Tuesday Emerson (atta_girl) wrote in districtmarvel, @ 2015-12-29 17:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | peggy carter, steve rogers |
who: Peggy & Steve
where: Steve's place in 8
when: Post the infamous threesome debacle at Clint's party
what: The world's most awkward second date Dinner, apologies, and frank conversation.
They were never going to get this right.
No, that wasn't a generous thought. It wasn't optimistic. It wasn't even necessary, because really, they'd only begun calling this a relationship instead of a friendship loaded with what had apparently been years of mutual longing and limited risk-taking. Their first date had been quite lovely, all things told, and they'd managed that even after that little... hiccup with the aphrodisiac and the poor choices on both side, and of course they could come back from this. This wasn't even an actual indiscretion. This was rumor. Gossip. It was another story to be tittered over during cocktail parties and whispered about behind whatever might be the accessory du jour.
Peggy was betting fans. She'd seen a few make a splash at Clint's party, apparently a fashionable way to pretend to be hot in the middle of a simulated desert theme (even if it hadn't been hot, but rather perfectly climate controlled in the way all of Those Parties were), and... none of this mattered.
Still, it kept her occupied during the trip out to 8, where she'd agreed to meet Steve well before this latest disaster. They were going to keep this date because Peggy didn't give up because something got difficult or complicated, and while Steve was possibly the most difficult man she'd ever met- before he'd even been a man at all, still a boy adjusting to the length of his limbs and a last unexpected growth spurt, all stubborn eyes and the jut of his chin that she could see when she closed her eyes because it never failed that he'd make that face every time a camera was pointed his way- he was also worth the trouble. He'd always been worth the trouble, and they were going to talk about this.
It could go on the list of discussions Peggy hadn't expected to have, and wasn't sure how to broach. So you're not-really-but-purportedly-sleeping with two other people, and how to handle that little wrinkle in a relationship they were trying to keep quiet for other reasons entirely. Peggy was becoming wearied of keeping so many secrets when all they did were hurt the reputations of people she loved.
She was also getting heartily sick of apologies, but that was another issue; related, but not the same.
Steve was subdued at the door, just as bruised as advertised, and more capable than she would've guessed in a kitchen. Peggy sat, observing (supervising), fingers toying with the drink he'd provided without having to be asked. Some manners stuck. Not the important ones, clearly, but she'd accomplished something in all of those lessons that sometimes felt useless.
"It smells good," she remarked, wincing internally at how inane it sounded. Aside from soft greetings and quick hugs, discussion had mostly focused on her trip. It had been fine, of course. It always was. "If it tastes as good as it smells, I'll be very impressed." She paused, wry smile audible in her voice even as it tugged at her lips. "I'll also promise to stay out of the kitchen and concede it to you."