Ace out

Idiom – to out manoeuvre someone, to avoid or evade something narrowly.

(mimicking the ambiguous Agent Carter style of episode titles is hard)

When Peggy walked into the bullpen the next morning she was surprised to find the majority of the office, Dooley included, crowded around Thompson's desk, craning their necks to look at a sheaf of paper. Jack was leaning casually against the front, facing the elevator, and arguing with Agent Yauch.

"No, no, not a chance in hell," Thompson said sternly to the junior Agent. "I get Ava Gardner, you can have Ginger Rogers," he said nonsensically, in a tone that brooked no refusal.

"Hey, as long as I get Lana Turner I'm happy," Sousa said mildly from his other side, tilting his head to get a better look at the paper over Jack's shoulder.

Even Chief Dooley had a small smile on his weathered and lined face. "I am seriously considering heading back into the field," he drawled, shaking his head slightly and looking highly amused by the proceedings.

"What are you doing?" Peggy asked curiously, shifting the stack of files that she held in her arms as she approached the desk.

Jack glanced up at her and held up the papers. "Stark's butler dropped off our new list of potential suspects," he explained as she put the files she held down on his desk, the other Agents automatically making a hole for her. "People who Stark has entertained at that residence in recent months, and it's …" he looked back down at the carefully typed list and grinned boyishly, "... extensive."

"Extensive and a gift from God," Agent Krezminsky said; he was over at his station, pulling on his jacket and using the back of his coffee spoon to check his carefully combed hair. He turned towards them and grinned in an extremely self-satisfied manner. "Now, if you fellas will excuse me ... I'm gonna go question Vivian Leigh to see if she's working for the Russians."

"No, you're not," Peggy said simply without looking up from the list; she had taken it from Jack and was now bent over his desk, using a pen she had grabbed to cross out various high profile names. "A large number of these women are well known actresses, socialites, and models, they can all be discounted," she told them, running a thick line through Clark Gable's name as she worked her way down.

There were loud noises of displeasure from the other agents and she looked coolly up at them all. "Brannis and Demidov were both officially dead, do any of you seriously think that Katherine Hepburn broke into Howard Stark's vault to steal highly volatile and dangerous weapons?" she asked pointedly, unimpressed with their juvenile camaraderie when this was meant to be a serious investigation. She shook her head and returned to the list. "Concern yourself with the unknown elements, there are still plenty of people to look in to."

"But … Vivian Leigh," Krezminsky said pleadingly, sounding like she had kicked his puppy.

"Alright, fun's over," Chief Dooley finally interjected, asserting his authority and gesturing for them all to get back to work. "Carter's right, there are still plenty of women for you to question," he added to Krezminsky as he passed him on his way back to his office.

Krezminsky was scowling deeply as he pulled his jacket off once more, tossing it over the back of his chair. "You are such a kill joy," Peggy heard him mutter under his breath, but did not deign to reply.

The rest of the Agent's slowly dispersed, leaving just Jack and Peggy at his station; she continued to work her way through the list of names. "I suppose we better keep looking for the remaining weapons," he said, still leaning against the front of his desk with his arms were folded over his shirt and tilting his head to look down at her progress. "The Tesseract still our priority?"

"Yes. The fact that it wasn't among the cache means it has already been sold, but until we hear back from Howard we have no leads," she replied, a small amount of frustration at their lack of knowledge leaking into her voice. Without looking up, she tapped the pen she had stolen from his desk on the stack of files she had been carrying, having stopped by the records room on her way up to the bullpen. "Until then, we can look into New York fences that it might have sold through and practical applications of the device to try to deduce what the buyer wants it for. I've already picked up all of the old war files pertaining to both the Tesseract and all HYDRA weapons," she said, knowing that as far as leads went it was thin at best.

Jack nodded his understanding and unfolded his arms. "Let's get started," he said, picking up the first file to look through.

Several days later they were still no closer to finding the Tesseract.

Jack glanced at the pin-board of information that they had set up in the corner beside his desk as he entered the bullpen; it was obscenely early in the morning, with no one in the office except for the Chief. It wasn't unusual for Jack to come in early. He suffered from nightmares and insomnia after the war and, when he had jerked awake at four that morning covered in a cold sweat, instantly decided that he would rather be in the office doing something productive than lying there staring up at his ceiling.

"You been working all night on the Stark case?" Jack asked as he approached; based on his loosened tie and rolled up sleeves, it looked like the Chief hadn't even gone home the night before.

"I got somethin' on our dead Russians," Dooley said, handing him a file. "We just got this, the official report on the Battle of Finnow."

Jack opened it and immediately frowned, creasing his brow. "Great, only things missing are words," he said dryly as he flicked through, since almost the entire thing had been heavily redacted. Well, in some ways the lack of words was even more telling than the original contents; clearly someone high up in the government was involved in a cover up of some kind. He clenched his jaw, remembering what Carter had said about how this whole thing was bigger than just Stark – dammit, he was starting to hate it when she was right.

Chief Dooley, it turned out, was on his way over to Germany to question a Nazi possibly involved in the Battle of Finnow and was leaving Jack in charge. Seeing this as a chance to prove himself, he shook the older man's hand as he left, determined to have something of worth to show him on his return.

Left alone in the bullpen, he sat on his desk with his morning coffee and steepled his fingers under his chin, staring at the board of information he and Peggy had put together. It was covered in old scientific readouts, wartime photographs, schematics of confiscated HYDRA weapons, profiles of who could be interested as a buyer, and the known New York fences that Brannis would have had to go through to sell the device. That was where they had hit something of a road-block – when he and Carter had gone to speak to the fences they had found either corpses or empty buildings, with signs that belongings had been hastily packed before fleeing. Fingerprints at the scene had and ballistics matching the bullet used to kill Raymond had put Demidov as the culprit, no doubt a sloppy and careless attempt to make sure no one could follow his trail on his hunt for Brannis.

The Bureau of Identification had got back to them with the fingerprints from Stark's vault, identifying them as belonging to Leet Brannis, and Chief had reluctantly agreed that Stark wasn't involved in the break in – but he was still in contempt of Congress, accused of selling weapons, and a fugitive from justice, so Peggy's friend wasn't in the clear yet.

He was quick to give out assignments when the rest of the team arrived later that morning. Many were still working on the list that Mr Jarvis had dropped off, which was still extensive even after being edited down by Carter, but with little luck they might strike gold and find their culprit. He was tempted to make them all work overtime, just to see some results, but rationalised that extra hours would lead to ragged tempers, fraying nerves, and lack of proper concentration.

It was approaching eight in the evening and many of the team had gone home for the night. Jack was still in the Chief's office and drinking his seventh cup of coffee, having worked over a fourteen hour day, when Carter appeared in the doorway, knocking lightly and making him glance up at her. She was wearing a dark green cotton dress with a deep v-neck and had re-applied her red lipstick at some point in the afternoon. "Fancy a drink?" she offered, casting a smile his way and making him blink in surprise. "We could celebrate your promotion."

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth – or rather, question Peggy Carter's motives when she was asking him out – Jack decided to call it a day and left the files he was working on in a tidy pile on the large desk. "Sure, Carter," he drawled, picking up his hat and jacket.

He glanced at her as they headed towards the elevator; he had scarcely spoken to her all day, occupied with the running of the office, and she had been left to her own devices to work on the case. With him as something of an ally at her back she seemed to have grown more confident – well no, that wasn't quite true, she had always been confident, but now she seemed more determined to do proper work instead of allowing the filing and food runs to be foisted off on her. He had heard a slight altercation in the middle of the day when Krezminsky and Yauch had tried to send her out for lunches and she had point blank refused, scarcely even looking up from where she was working on the financial records they had seized from one of the deceased fences, and one of the girls on the switchboard had been sent out instead.

He pulled on his jacket once they were standing on the curb outside. "I know a nice joint a few blocks away," he offered, wondering if she liked swing music.

She looked at him, evidently surprised. "Did you actually think – ?" she started to say with mild incredulity, then cut herself off with a slightly awkward smile. "Another time, perhaps," she hedged. He frowned in confusion – then a sleek black car pulled up on the curb in front of them, driven by Mr Jarvis, and Peggy opened the door for herself before he could even get out of the car. "For now, there is someone that you said you wanted to meet," she finished pointedly, and he realised belatedly that what he'd thought was a date was actually him being taken to see Howard Stark.

While the rest of the office was marching to Thompson's drum and running about working on the long list of names delivered by Stark's butler in the Chief's absence, Daniel Sousa had taken the day off to catch two trains down to DC. He had still not heard anything further from the Bureau of Identification regarding the blonde in Raymond's club and, not having the patience to wait for a reply if he sent them another letter, decided to go in person in an attempt to get to the bottom of this.

To say that the Bureau was surprised to see him would be an understatement, citing that the case had been closed at his request. The file containing the fingerprints and their correspondence was produced with impressive efficiency and Daniel was astonished to discover a forgery.

The letter was impressive in its duplicity; it was written on SSR headed stationary, citing a reference number before explaining that no further steps were to be taken, and had a fair facsimile of his signature at the bottom.

It could only mean one thing: someone at the SSR itself had sabotaged his case in an attempt to protect the blonde.

The revelation was a troubling one since there was no way to narrow down the suspects – fingerprints were a no-go, the letter would have been handled by dozens, if not hundreds of people since leaving his desk. The reference number for the case could have been easily found on the folder containing the photographs from the club and his signature was scattered around various files in the office. The letter itself had been sitting on his desk for half the night and most of the morning before being taken out with the morning post and, with the office excited over the list that Stark's butler had dropped off, anyone could have switched them with ease.

And, with the Chief away and Thompson in charge, he didn't know who he could trust.

Howard was being smuggled into the county in a train carriage; thanks to one Mr Mink, a corporate smuggler, he had sailed into Nova Scotia where immigration security wasn't as tight and then travelled down the coast to New York. They were meeting the train in a large, industrial depot on the edge of the city. Peggy was looking forward to the meeting, eager to get more information on the Tesseract and start making progress on the case, but she was wary of what Howard's reaction to Jack's presence would be.

Thompson had been sporting a deep scowl in the back seat the whole drive out of the city, clearly peeved about something, though had perked up a little when the two of them had dealt with Mink's minions. They were little more than muscle fry, no doubt mainly used as an intimidation tactic, and were easily dealt with. Leaving Thompson to truss up the men and scout the perimeter for anyone else, Peggy went to meet Jarvis.

They found Howard in a shipping container that had been luxuriously decorated, complete with a pool table, mini-bar, and record player. Howard was in the middle of a game against himself and was very pleased to see them, brushing aside her concerns about Mink's reliability with a nonchalant air.

"Right, we're clear -" Thompson said as he approached the open door of the container – only to cut himself off as Howard picked up one of the snooker balls and threw it straight at his head. Thompson caught the ball easily, dropped it instantly to the floor, and had his gun trained on Howard before he could even blink.

"Don't," Peggy said quickly, stepping between the two of them before the situation could escalate any further since Howard had another ball ready in his hand. He turned his wide eyes to Peggy, clearly wondering what on earth was going on. "Howard, this is Agent Jack Thompson; Thompson, Howard Stark," she said reluctantly by way of introduction, waving a hand between the two of them.

Howard's expression turned from shock to utter exasperation when he heard the honorific Agent. "Jesus, Peg," he said, a note of anger simmering in his voice.

Thompson slowly lowered his gun and stepped into the carriage, looking around at the luxurious amenities with disgust. "Remind me to crack down on smuggling once this case is solved," he said with a sneer, looking tense and highly unimpressed.

"Who the hell is this?" Howard wanted to know, still not having released the cue ball he held defensively.

"He is one of my colleagues at the SSR," Peggy explained, wishing that she'd had time to brief Howard on Jack's involvement before their meeting. "He has been helping me with your case." "You bought someone else in on this? Without telling me?" Howard pressed, his anger visibly growing.

"I didn't have much choice in the matter," she replied, somewhat cattily. "Thompson discovered my activities and, once I explained myself, elected to help me with the case instead of reporting me – for which I am grateful," she added, glancing at him and knowing full well that he could have seen her fired, or even arrested, if he had made her involvement known to the SSR instead of joining her.

"You're welcome," Thompson replied tightly without looking at her, still scowling at Howard with his gun lowered.

Howard frowned, staring at Jack in turn. "Thompson …" he said slowly, thinking hard. "You're the guy who signed the order to ground my planes and freeze my bank accounts," he said bitterly, and Jack simply smirked in response. Howard shrugged. "Not that it did you much good, I've got dozens of dummy ones -"

"Oh, don't worry, we've been cracking down on them too," Thompson said with a nasty smile as he slowly returned his gun to the holster beneath his jacket.

"Mr Thompson has proved useful in the recovery of several of your items, as well as linking Mr Brannis to the break in," Mr Jarvis put in smoothly, evidently trying to diffuse the tense situation somewhat.

"Agent," Jack corrected him for the second time in a stony voice, casting the butler an unimpressed frown as well.

Howard looked between Thompson and Peggy once more, then huffed loudly. "Guess finding a man wasn't all that hard after all, was it Peg?" he said snidely, picking up his bag and slinging it over one shoulder.

"Howard," Peggy said warningly, growing incensed in turn at the obvious implication in his words.

Jack's scowl deepened, evidently picking up on to her tone. "What's that supposed to mean?" he wanted to know.

"I'm just saying, you're meant to be helping me, Peggy," Howard said with the defensive and wounded air of one who believes himself to be a victim, ignoring Thompson.

"Oh, stop being childish, I am helping you," she snapped back as Howard came out from behind the pool table and the four of them left the shipping container.

"Like she said, she didn't exactly have a lot of choice in the matter, pal," Jack reminded him as well in a distinctly unfriendly tone as they walked along the platform in the direction of the car, backing her up – they were all practically talking over each other, their tempers fraying, and she got the impression that it would only be a matter of time before someone (most likely Howard) snapped and lashed out.

"I wasn't talking to you," Howard shot back bluntly, scarcely sparing Jack another glance. "I left Jarvis behind to assist you. You're meant to be clearing my name, not playing detective with tall, blond, and scowling here," he said bitingly, then spread his hands defensively, the implication that she had involved Thompson due to some kind of romance or flirtation clear in his voice. "I'm not one to point fingers, but clearly you got a type -"

Surprisingly, it was Jack that lost his temper first – he seized Howard by the front of his shirt and shoved him towards the edge of the platform, so that he was held half over the edge with his feet scrabbling for purchase and the material of his shirt clenched in Jack's fist.

"Thompson," Peggy said sharply, though Howard's last comment had left her close to physically demonstrating her displeasure as well, implying that there was something going on between her an Jack and the reference to him being her 'type'. The fall to the tracks, which wouldn't be being used at this time of night, was only a few feet, but the sensation of empty space behind him was enough for Howard's expression to turn from scorn to alarm.

"You know what would have happened if I had gone straight to the Chief?" Jack demanded, his height making him tower over Howard's slightly smaller frame. "I have solid evidence linking her to a truck-full of your stolen explosives, powerful enough to level a city block," he hissed. "She would have been bought in and instantly charged with theft, possession of explosive materials, aiding and abetting a traitor, and probably treason herself, and I'm sure you know damn-well the penalty for such crimes."

"Thompson," she said sternly once more, while Mr Jarvis hovered to one side, obviously torn between protecting his boss and not wanting to get involved in a physical altercation.

Jack glared silently for a good few seconds, then slowly released his grip on Howard's shirt.

Howard, still looking slightly disconcerted as he found his balance once more, smoothed down the lines of his clothes. "This was from Saville Row," he muttered resentfully, worried about the creases.

Thompson stepped threateningly towards him once more, his face set into a deep scowl, but he was stopped by Peggy's hand on his chest. "This is neither the time nor the place," she scolded them both. "Howard, stop antagonising him, Jack I did not bring you along for you to lose your temper."

There was a pause, then Howard huffed and sighed deeply as they continued to walk. "You definitely trust him?" he asked resignedly as if Jack wasn't there.

Peggy hesitated, then nodded, surprising herself a little as she realised how much she did, indeed, trust Jack "I do, and he has been very helpful with your case and recovering the weapons," she reiterated once again, then finally took the opportunity to ask what had been eating away at her since Mr Jarvis had handed her the inventory list. "Speaking of which, I want to know why you have the Tesseract," she demanded, the tone of her voice changing as she fixed him with a piercing stare.

Howard faltered at this sudden interrogation, then seemed to steel himself. "Had," he corrected, stalling for time.

"That device is dangerous," Peggy said, anger seeping into her voice once more. She had to admit that it wasn't just that the device was dangerous that bothered her, it was the fact that it had gone down with the Valkyrie, with Steve, and Howard had reclaimed it without telling her.

"I know that it's dangerous, that's why I had it in my vault," he argued back, still looking uncomfortable with the conversation.

"You should have turned it over to the SSR," she said firmly, the disapproval evident in her tone.

Howard visibly bristled at that. "Why?" he asked petulantly. "I found it."

"That was the source of HYDRA's power, it was not yours to claim," Peggy snapped back.

"It wasn't about that," Howard said, shaking his head.

"Then what was it about?" she pressed, growing annoyed at his prevaricating.

There was another brief pause, then Howard sighed again, looking dejected. "… The government wanted my help on the Manhattan Project – the A-Bomb, that's my legacy," he said bitterly as they walked, suddenly sounding less like the drawling, sarcastic playboy she was used to. "But you know as well as I do that the A-Bomb is nothing compared to the potential power within the Tesseract. That thing could wipe out the planet," he said, looking at her intently with wide eyes. He shrugged slightly. "After Finnow I cut ties with the government, I knew -"

"Finnow?" Jack interrupted sharply.

Howard glanced at him and frowned slightly. "Does that mean something to you?" he wanted to know.

Thompson looked pointedly at Peggy. "The Battle of Finnow was where Brannis and Demidov supposedly died the first time," he explained, and she realised that this battle, whatever had happened, was quite possibly the root cause of everything that had followed.

Stark shook his head. "It wasn't a battle, it was a massacre," he said heavily. "General McGuinnes dropped a gas that I had been working on atop of the town -"

It was Peggy's turn to interrupt. "You designed a poison gas, Howard?" she asked incredulously.

"Not intentionally," he replied defensively, then went on to explain how the gas, the Midnight Oil, had been intended as a stimulant to keep soldiers awake – only it had enhanced the symptoms of sleep deprivation, causing insatiable violence and madness. The people of Finnow had torn each other apart long before a single soldier even set foot in the town. "After that I wasn't going to hand the Tesseract over to the US government," Howard added, finishing his tale.

There was another silence as they digested the horror story.

"Do you know where the Tesseract is now?" Jack asked as they walked, his brow creased into a frown ad his tone all business.

"I've been looking overseas looking for it and, as far as I can tell, it's in Norway," Howard explained, his tone almost friendly compared to earlier. "It was bought by one Osov Morken, a collector of rare antiquities."

"So he isn't trying to weaponise it?" Peggy asked, relieved by this news.

"I don't think he knows what he's got, but he paid through the nose for it on the black market – some rubbish about Odin, you know, the same stuff the Red Skull was into," Howard told them. "He is something of a hermit. I haven't been able to pin down a location or a residence for him, but -" he said, lifting a finger temptingly before continuing, "- there is a gala for a museum opening in Oslo next week," he said in a highly satisfied voice. "Considering that Morken was the main curator and contributor for Norse artifacts, I'd say that pins down his location for a night, wouldn't you?"

Peggy and Jack glanced at each other – it wasn't ideal, but it was still the best lead they'd had.

"I'll look into it," she promised.

"I was hoping you would say that," Howard drawled as they left the platform and started to make their way to the empty parking lot. "I'm pretty recognisable, even in Europe ..." There was a pause, then he added, "You know, the Tesseract wasn't the only dangerous item in my vault."

"Yeah, let's not forget the poison gases, chemical explosives, and bone breaking devices," Jack muttered just loud enough to hear, rolling his eyes slightly.

"I need to know what you've recovered," Howard continued as if the other man had not spoken. Thompson reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, the inventory they had made of the recovered items. Howard took it and scanned it – then his eyes flashed and he tapped agitatedly on the paper. "This one, Item 9, I need it," he said urgently.

Peggy frowned. "I'm not turning these items over to you to be stolen again, Howard."

Howard grimaced, but pressed forward with his request. "Everything else is containable - casualties, while not exactly minimal, wouldn't be extensive," he explained in a somewhat sheepish tone at what his inventions were capable of. "But Item 9 is an EMP. It has enough power to short out a city - and not just for a few hours," he explained – and then there it was, the smallest twitch of his lip. It was such a small movement that she scarcely caught it, but she had played poker with Howard and the Commando's enough times in the war to know his tells – and, for some reason, Howard was lying about the device. "It would completely decimate the circuits and transmitters. If they push that button New York could be plunged back into the dark ages for years."

"What makes you think they will push the button?" she asked, frowning even more deeply at the deception; she couldn't help but wonder what the device actually did and why Howard wanted it back so badly that he was willing to lie to her.

"There is only one button and no other way into the device," he explained dryly, sticking his hands in his pockets as they approached the surreptitiously parked car. "They don't even know what it does, so trust me when I say that sooner or later some idiot is going to push the button." He gave her a winning smile. "Which is where you come in."

"So not only are we hiding a fugitive, you want us to steal from the SSR?" Jack guessed, matching Peggy scowl for scowl. He shook his head at her, his brow creased with lines. "This is getting too deep, I said that I would help you -"

"I thought you said you trusted this guy," Howard interrupted, giving her an incredulous look as Jarvis opened the car door for him.

"I do trust him," Peggy reiterated as she opened the passenger side door herself. "But you cannot deny that you are putting us in an awkward position here, Howard."

"Don't think of it as stealing," Howard cajoled, pulling a spherical metal device from his bag as he sat down and casually tossing it into the other hand. "This is a mock-up of the device," he said, holding it up for her. "So think of it as a subtle exchange that saves the city."

Peggy bit the inside of her cheek, facing forward out of the front window as Mr Jarvis walked around to the drivers' side door. "I'll think about it," she hedged, knowing full well that she would look into the device if only to discover what Howard was hiding and why he was lying to her.

"Carter -" Jack interrupted, leaning forwards to speak to her, the disapproval clear in his voice.

"I said I would think about it," she repeated firmly, cutting him off and inviting no further conversation as the car started.

"So, how are you two rubbing along?" Howard asked, breaking the silence as they approached the centre of the city; he was reclining in the back seat, seemingly purposefully ignoring Thompson, who was sat moodily beside him. "Peggy tried any of Ana's goulash yet? Peggy, does Jarvis know you can do 107 one-armed push-ups?"

That caught Jack's attention from where he was scowling out of the window – though in his defence Howard's long legs were taking up most of the legroom in the back of the car since he was hunkered down to avoid being seen. "You can do 107 one-armed push-ups?" he repeated incredulously, sounding like he didn't believe it.

"No," Peggy admitted with a small smile. "I could do perhaps a two dozen more than that, but I stopped because I had already won the bet since Sargent Barnes gave up at – stop the car," she said suddenly, cutting herself off midway through the story as she spotted a familiar figure up ahead.

Jarvis pulled smoothly up beside the curb and Jack leant forward to look out of the front window. "Yauch," he said, recognising the young agent.

"And Agent Henry," Peggy pointed out, nodding to the man waiting for the bus.

Howard hunkered down even further in his seat. "I thought you said you linked Brannis to the break in, why are they still hunting me?" he wanted to know.

"You're still in contempt of Congress and a fugitive from justice, Howard," Peggy shot back, irked that he hadn't grasped the situation despite their argument earlier.

He nodded at Jack. "But he's here, I thought …" he said, then trailed off.

"Think again, pal," Jack drawled, then jerked his chin at Jarvis. "Take a left," he ordered, and Jarvis quickly shifted gear to obey.

"The SSR may accept that you did not stage the break in on your vault, but you are still accused of selling weapons to the enemies of the United States," Peggy reminded Howard as they drove around the block. "Jack is helping me because I told him the full story, but I couldn't very well waltz into the office and tell them that you are innocent simply because you told me so."

Howard looked chagrined. "How did they find that building though? It's under a dummy corporation."

"And another dummy corporation owns the lease," Mr Jarvis added, apparently unnerved by the SSR's efficiency.

Thompson smirked, looking rather self-satisfied. "Told you we were cracking down on them," he said smugly.

"Son of a bitch," Howard said, sounding reluctantly impressed. He glanced around, his eyes flitting to the buildings they were driving past. "Well, where can I hide?"

There was a silence, then Peggy looked pointedly over her shoulder at Jack, raising one brow.

"No," he said firmly, in a tone that brooked no refusal.

"Well, I can't exactly take him back to the Griffith," she pointed out mildly.

Howard leant forward, evidently less worried about being seen now that they were clear of the Agents. "You're living at the Griffith?" Howard interjected interestedly.

"Why the hell not?" Jack wanted to know, ignoring the man beside him.

"How's Miriam?" Howard added, both of them practically speaking over the other.

"Ten o'clock curfew, no men above the first floor," Peggy rattled off with a small smile, grateful, for once, for the strict regulations she lived under.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Your hotel is ridiculous," he muttered, leaning back in his seat.

"That hotel is a New York institution," Howard told him defensively. "I have many fond memories of -"

"How many residences do you have in New York?" Jack interrupted, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"Not sure, ten or eleven, I think," Howard replied, blinking.

"Eleven, sir," Jarvis supplied helpfully from the drivers' seat.

Jack sighed. "We've only uncovered nine," he admitted, then started to list the addresses from memory.

"Jarvis, the Grand Street residence," Howard ordered once he had finished and they took a right towards the Lincoln Tunnel. He sighed deeply. "I hate New Jersey," he added petulantly.

"Miss Carter, would you like me to drop you at the Griffith?" Mr Jarvis offered genially as they drove.

"Yes, though around the block will be fine," Peggy replied, knowing that she would have to sneak in through one of the tunnels in the cellar since it was approaching the early hours of the morning.

"Thought you said you had a ten o'clock curfew," Jack said questioningly from the back seat, checking his watch.

"That won't be a problem," she replied, casting a sly smile back at him. He raised one eyebrow, evidently intrigued by her tone. She turned to face out of the front window once more, her tone smug. "I successfully infiltrated Castle Kaufmann during the war, so trust me when I say the Griffith poses little challenge."

They dropped Peggy off round the block from her hotel and Jack clenched his jaw as she left, feeling mildly uncomfortable to be left alone with Stark's butler and the man himself. Stark had been something of a shock to him. He had expected the dapper, sarcastic playboy he had seen in the newsreels, and he didn't disappoint there, but there was also an underlying self-deprecation and seriousness beneath the surface when he had spoken about the Tesseract and Finnow that he hadn't expected.

Jack clenched his jaw, thinking of the heavily redacted file Dooley had shown him that morning – if the Tesseract was as dangerous as the files and scientific readouts they had managed to scrape together claimed, then it was probably a damn good thing that Stark hadn't handed it over to the government.

Stark's friendship with Peggy was also something of a surprise, though in hindsight it shouldn't have been since she spoke of him so warmly. He was used to people treating Peggy as, well, a woman, not believing her capable of doing a man's work; Stark may have flirted a little with her in an affectionate way that didn't seem entirely serious, but he had treated her as an equal even when they had been arguing heatedly. The two of them were clearly close, despite their differences in personality.

"Where to, Agent Thompson?" Mr Jarvis asked and Jack rattle off his address, which was only half a dozen blocks away, in response.

"You know," Stark said lazily, slouched low in his seat once more and looking curiously at Jack. "I've been trying to figure out what you get out of this."

Jack kept his gaze out of the window beside him, not particularly interested in engaging in further conversation – he had already threatened the man once this evening due to his caviller attitude regarding the risk Peggy had taken for him. "I crack this case and the position of Chief is in the bag," he said with bland honesty.

"And I'm sure that's a big part of it," Stark acknowledged. "You strike me as a pretty selfish guy – we could probably even be good friends, you and I, were circumstances different," he added in a drawling voice. "But you got another motive," he continued, watching him carefully. "Brunette, penchant for red lipstick, legs long enough to get a man's mind thinking about what they would be like wrapped around -"

"You shut your damn mouth," Jack snapped furiously, whipping his head around to glare at him.

Stark chuckled. "I was right then," he said, looking pleased. He nodded once, craning his neck to peek out of his own window from where he was hunkered down. "Good to know."

Jack frowned deeply. "Good to know?" he repeated questioningly.

"If you were doing this just for the glory of cracking the case, I'd be worried," Stark told him simply. "You could turn me over and still get a hefty amount of recognition."

"Don't tempt me," Jack muttered, still trying to wrap his mind around how, exactly, he had found himself in this position.

"But you're doing this to impress Peggy – or partly to impress her," he corrected as Thompson glowered out of the window once more. "Throwing her oldest friend in the clink isn't exactly the best way to go about wooing a woman." Stark grinned widely at Jack's frowning expression and nodded once more, returning his gaze to his own window. "So yeah, that's good to know."

Next up – our heroes are off to Norway to investigate the Tesseract …

(So things will really start deviating from the original after the next chapter!)

Big thank you to #CravingHoneydukes for proofing for me, and thank you all for your reviews – keep 'em coming and let me know what you all want to see in coming chapters! :D