Moments


The Sousa Scare


"Jack, is something wrong?" Peggy asked as she peered around the corner of her row of lockers.

Jack stopped fiddling with whatever he was fiddling with in his locker to reply shortly, "No. Why?"

There was something both defensive and guilty in the way he was holding himself, (tense and shifty-eyed some might say), that rang alarm bells.

"Oh, I don't know," she replied casually, as she finished zipping up her dress so that she could modestly square off with him. "Maybe, it is because you are dawdling in here instead of going to your morning case briefing." Oh how, he loved to flaunt his leadership skills for any and all to see. Something had to be wrong.

He scowled before firmly shutting his locker door and then admitting, "I don't like it."

"You don't like what?" She asked as patiently as she could muster. When he waved at her outfit – a la frumpy secretary, large bifocals and all – she let out a soft, "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'," he grunted unhappily. Not that he was displeased with her outfit per se, but more for what it represented - her plan to go undercover with Daniel today.

They had gotten word that one of the Chameleon-Maker clients was in L.A. and shopping for a feasible private eye, and so Daniel was going to pose as one and their C.I. was going to refer the client to him.

She paused to listen for potential eavesdroppers. When she could detect no one, she relaxed her posture some and asked, "Is it that you think it is too dangerous and a bad plan? Or that I am going undercover with Daniel? Because it is not like I am going as his wife, you know, just his receptionist, and not even the tempting 'sweet young thing' kind."

He laughed softly (with true amusement) at that last bit, before admitting with equal softness, "It doesn't matter how you are dressed. You are always tempting to me."

Jack reveled in her embarrassed blush, smirking at her for a moment, and then more seriously, he stated, "It's not a bad plan, and it has no more risks than usual, I suppose. It's just…" After a moment's hesitation as he struggled to find words, he admitted, "Aside from the fact that you are going to practically be his Gal Friday - just for today mind you, it's the fact that I am not going to be there with you."

She opened her mouth to comment, but had to shut it again as he hastened to explain, "Not that I don't trust you, or Daniel. I just don't like the fact that I am not going to be there to watch your back."

Again, she opened her mouth to say something – she wasn't sure what. 'I will be careful'? or 'I will try to come back to you'?, neither sounded very comforting. But then he had to go and ruin the moment by smirking roguishly at her and asserting:

"It's a very pretty backside after all."

She rolled her eyes and huffed, "Go and do your briefing, Agent Thompson."

"Yes, dear."

~A~

Later that evening…

"Peggy, you need to stop beating yourself up."

He had come up from Samberly's lab to find Peggy barking orders at her team left and right, running them frantic as she tried to find any lead as to where Daniel had disappeared to.

She and Daniel had apparently spent the whole day at their faux private detective office dealing with prospective clients of potential cheating spouses, none of whom were the elusive 'Scarlet Camara' former Red Room instructor and Hydra spy. So Daniel had sent her home, while he finished closing up shop for the night. Peggy had come back when she realized that she had grabbed his set of keys and not hers to find the office in shambles from what looked like a scuffle and drops of blood on the carpet.

In reply to his comment, Peggy scowled at him and snapped with a dismissive wave to their make-shift gym, "So while Daniel is out there – kidnapped by a known sadist – I am to beat up on dummies or spar with you instead?"

"If it helps you blow off steam and not bite off any more of your team's heads, then, yes," he replied calmly, for once not rising to the bait of her condescension.

Some of the fire went out of her at his words, and with a few steps, she was in his space, leaning on him with her dark head tucked into the crook of his shoulder. As soon as his arms were wrapped comfortingly around her, she confessed in a near broken whisper, "I just don't want to have to tell her – Violet – that he is not going to come home."

"We're doing everything we can to bring him home, Peg," he attempted to sooth. It only took him a few seconds after he felt her stiffen in his arms at those words to realize why that was the wrong thing to say.

So he hastily (but still in quiet, calming tones) added, "I know this has got to remind of you Rogers, but, Marge, this is nothing like that. For one, Captain America didn't need a prosthetic leg."

Peggy lifted her head off his shoulder to lean back and peer quizzically at him, "How does that help?"

He shrugged, "I am told that his prosthetic leg is an excellent hiding place for the egghead's experimental tracking device, a lot like Stark's beacon."

She put one hand on his chest to push herself completely away from him, as she accused, "You mean to tell me that Samberly has a tracking device on Daniel? That he can switch on remotely?"

He nodded warily, and before the word 'yes' left his mouth, she was whirling around and charging straight for the door back to the bullpen.

From over her shoulder, he could hear her ask exasperatedly, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I was giving them time to set it up without you breathing down their necks," he muttered under his breath, as he trailed after her.

"I heard that!"

~A~

A few days later…

Daniel quietly watched Peggy leave his hospital room, before turning to Rose (whom Peggy had practically ordered to be his guard dog) and asking bemusedly, "So how bad was she?"

He asked this partly because he could tell by the grilling that he had just received that Peggy was still upset that he had been kidnapped on her watch.

The Hydra spy had been tracking down a P.I. whom she knew had pictures of her that would blow her operation, and their overly-helpful C.I. had purposefully misinformed her that Daniel was the one she was searching for, which had then resulted in him being taken to be tortured for the location of the roll of film. She hadn't gotten too far in her 'session' before the cavalry had arrived, but far enough that he needed a few days inpatient to recover. And even though he was relatively healthy and Scarlet was in custody, Peggy was on the hunt for the true P.I. and whatever information he had about her operation.

He also asked this, because if this was how she was now, he could all too well imagine how she had been while he was missing.

After a moment's consideration, Rose shrugged her shoulders, "Eh, somewhat worse than when Mr. Stark or Dr. Wilkes went missing but not as bad as when Jack was shot."

Upon seeing his self-satisfied smirk that he outranked those two at least in Peggy's affections, she proceeded to burst his bubble by observing, "I don't know if the difference between Jack and you is because you were merely missing and he was shot or Thompson is a better buffer between the troops and War-path Peggy than you ever were."

Not really taking offense that Jack knows how to better manage Peggy than he does, but not being able to resist (pain-killers really help one's sense of humor), he reasoned, "If it's the last, it's probably because he knew that for every angst-ridden tongue-lashing he got, there would a kiss later to make it better."

She snorted, "Too true."

And then as Violet swept into the room to give him yet another I'm-so-happy-you're-alive kiss, he could hear Rose mutter, "Speaking of…"

~A~

Later, as Jack was walking Peggy to her door, he asked impishly, "So, Marge, is it going to cost me my goodnight kiss, if I say 'I told you so'? Ya know, for Danny-boy being found alive and all?"

Peggy reached over and punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for?" he whined, while rubbing his now bruising limb, as that was no love-tap.

"Well, I'm not going to deprive myself for your stupidity and tactlessness, now am I?" she replied curtly.

For once, he wisely kept his mouth shut, and stored this useful bit of info for later use.

He also made sure that his Marge did not end the evening feeling at all deprived.