It's a little hinky, sure, but it's finally coming out onto 'paper', and thank god I'm not alone with it in my head anymore! yes, it's not particularly canon this chapter. No…I don't care if you don't like it.
She was there before him in the morning, her hair set neatly, no longer tumbling over her shoulders like it had been the night before. She was still pale, but it only served to highlight the bright red of her lips, that color that had haunted him until 2am, driving him to finish a bottle of Tennessee's finest and consider starting a second. When sleep had come, eventually, it had been restless, filled with dreams and the memory of those soft, kissable lips; the way she'd felt beneath his hand, the way she'd instinctively moved closer to him, how she'd closed her eyes, pleased.
He didn't know why he expected anything to be different that day, but god, he felt like something had changed. He tried to catch her eye during their brief, but it seemed as if she was pointedly ignoring him. After she'd done it twice more that day, his ego was more than a little bruised, and he was struggling to focus. At five, he slipped his jacket on and made to walk by her desk without so much as a "See ya".
"Agent Thompson?" The crisp, clipped English made his heart stop, as well as his steps, "Carter?" He didn't turn, his pride making him stand, back to her, feigning disinterest. "I…..have a nice evening." When he looked over his shoulder, she was looking down at her paperwork, finished with him, a touch of frustration obvious in the way she was silently drumming against the desk with her right hand. He nodded, "Same to you", and walked out.
Three days. Three long, hard, watching the seconds tick by kinda days, Jack suffered through. In the brief room, Sousa cornered him, "What did you do to her?" "Carter?" "You see another woman in our midst Thompson?" Jack turned, frowning, "Get out Sousa. You don't know what you're talking about." "I know somebody's making her feel like she's all wrong for whatever it is in her head." "It ain't me, alright? Maybe she's just mooning over Captain Amazing or something." "Say something. You think nobody's noticed the way you're avoiding her?" Sousa sighed, "Jack…even I thought things had changed…after Europe….maybe you two had worked out whatever it was that had you at each other's throats all day, every day. But now…." He shrugged, "Forget it."
Before Sousa could leave, Jack had called after him, "Sousa?" Daniel stopped, "Yeah?" "She really that cut up over whatever it is?" "If it isn't you, why do you care?" Daniel's words almost dripped venom, but Jack didn't take the bait, "Forget it then. I never asked." Daniel spoke quietly as he left, "If it is you, you better talk to her before she hangs you out to dry."
Peggy? Hang him up? She wasn't that petty….was she? He stewed on it all afternoon, before stopping by her desk at 7, holding a file he'd drop on his way out, "Hey sweetheart, got any plans tonight?" She looked at him like she wanted to wipe him from her shoe, "Flattery won't get you anywhere Agent Thompson, especially if it's because you'd like me to file that for you so you can go flirt with a girl at a bar." Here usually warm brown eyes were tinged with resentment, and he realized then that Sousa was right. Maybe he shoulda been the bigger man earlier, and his mouth was ahead of him before he could use his brain, "There's only one girl I wanna flirt with at a bar, and she's giving me the idea I'm barking up the wrong tree right now."
Peggy sat up a little straighter, and Jack recognized the look that said she was about to unleash, so he jumped in, his voice as nice as he could make it, "Marge…..I…that came out wrong. Im gonna go for a drink. Just me. I'd like to go with just you." When she didn't say anything straight away, he began to rattle off more, "I've been a real jerk this week…and whatever the misunderstanding was….I'm trying here, okay? I don't just go around buying flowers and…..well….I don't just kiss girls like that. Not…..not when I…." "Not when you what Agent Thompson? Consider your response carefully, I may be, against my better judgement, about to say yes." Jack was dumbstruck, reaching to help her slide into her coat as she came around the front of her desk. She smiled at him, "Well? Are we going or have you changed your mind?"
He felt more at ease in the bar, two glasses down each, and they were laughing a little, smiling a lot, and Peggy was opening up to him. Out of the blue, she looked him in the eye, "Did you mean to kiss me?" He nodded, finishing what was in his glass, and standing to get another. "Jack…don't. Stay….please." he glanced once at the bar, and then shrugged his jacket on, "Come on. It's late, and it's a school night. I oughta get you home." "Jack Thompson, it's a Friday evening." She eyeballed him as she swallowed the dregs in her glass, "Don't make a pretty girl drink alone."
Around midnight, Peggy let a small yawn escape, and Jack reached for her hand, "Come on….we should get going. You should be in bed." Peggy was a little drunk, actually, if Jack cared to admit it, so was he, seasoned alcoholic or not, and she giggled, "Jack….i'm not going to bed with you." Before he could say anything, she whispered, "Not yet." She blushed the color of her lipstick then, and giggled as they stepped into the alleyway, "Goodness me, you'll have to agree to ignore anything that comes from my lips just now."
Jack stopped then, pushing her against the wall and pressing his lips against hers, their bodies mere millimeters apart as one hand came to rest on her cheek. She leant into his palm, surprising him when her tongue sought out his, her hands reaching around his neck, pulling him closer to her. A tiny, kitten like mewl escaped from her as their lips separated for a moment, and then Jack pulled his face away, kissing her forehead, "We should definitely get you home darling." "You're no fun." She playfully pouted, and he kissed her playfully, a glint in his eye, "Oh, I can be as much fun as you like, but you're drunk, and I'm not a taking advantage kinda guy." She smiled, taking his arm as they began to walk again, "You can sleep in the guest….oh. Bugger." She stopped still, "You can't sleep in the guest room. Angie's in there." Jack laughed at the look of genuine surprise on her face, and then kissed her hair as he wrapped an arm across her shoulder, "Come on Carter. It's past little girls' bedtimes." "I'm hardly a little girl Thompson." "Oh, I can see that, don't you worry." She stopped again, tugging him to her by the hand, reaching up and kissing him, hard, nipping at his lip, "Don't treat me like one then."
When Jarvis opened the door to check what the disturbance was, he was surprised to find Peggy and Jack locked in a warm embrace. Peggy was pressed up against the door, almost falling through with Jack not far behind, "Oh, do watch out Miss Carter, I've just waxed the floor." He looked at Jack, "Agent Thompson. Leading young Margaret down the garden path?" Peggy flushed, "I suppose I should get inside." Jack stood there like a dolt, until the door was almost closed, "Night sweetheart. Get some rest."
One of them might as well, he figured, cause it sure as hell wasn't going to be him.
Little did he know, deep inside the safe confines of her bedroom at Stark's, a certain young woman was crying; deep, heaving sobs that she didn't know how to stop.