Peggy Carter (hisbestgal) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-02-20 22:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, peggy carter, steve rogers (captain america) |
Who: Peggy Carter and Steve Rogers
What: First meeting
Where: Peggy's apartment building, which is also Steve's.
When: February 7th
Rating: G
Status: Complete
With all the changes at work Peggy had lapsed with her chores at home and she was currently staring dejectedly at a massive pile of laundry. With a frustrated sigh she acknowledged the fact that she was going to have to work on this sooner rather than later. So, she grabbed the handles of her laundry basket and started to make her way out of her apartment to go down to the laundry room in the building. But she quickly remembered that she may need something to keep herself busy, so she quickly went back to her room to grab her phone, a book, and her iPod. After throwing them into the basket she grabbed her keys and exited the building.
Once it was locked she held tightly as she wandered down the hallway. She didn’t have far to go since she was on the third floor, but it was still obnoxious to carry something this heavy down all the stairs. After a moment of adjustment she rested the basket slightly on her hip as she took the steps slowly before making it to the lobby. After that it was just one more flight, but unfortunately she let her mind wander and missed the last step. Her basket stayed in her hands as she fell on her ass and slid down the last couple steps. “Bloody hell,” she shouted before muttering a string of profanities under her breath.
“You, okay? That looked like it hurt.”
Steve had seen the woman peripherally as he’d crossed the lobby. He’d been debating taking the elevator--he only lived on the third floor, after all--which was why he’d glanced at the stairs just in time to see her slip and fall.
Decision made, he’d crossed, his tone sympathetic and concerned as he regarded her.
“Hopefully the only thing bruised is my pride,” she quipped with a scowl as she tossed her laundry basket out in front of her onto the floor. A hand reached down to lightly rub her hip and used her other hand to grip the handrail and pull herself up to a standing position. Yeah, she was most likely going to be feeling this in the morning.
She hadn’t acknowledged the man who asked the question in her moment of pain, so now she lifted her eyes to look up at him. And was immediately startled. He looked just like Steve. So much like Steve, but it couldn’t be Steve. Steve was just a part of her shared dreaming with other people and didn’t exist in this world….right?
Steve smiled, sympathetically. “No judgment here. I’ve been known to take a fall or two in my time.”
He glanced around them. “And really, no one else saw, other than the doorman, and Dennis won’t tell anyone, will you Dennis?” He raised his voice at the end so Dennis heard him.
“Didn’t see nothing, Mr. Rogers,” Dennis replied, dutifully, sounding bored.
Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “How many times do I have to ask you to call me Steve, Dennis? Mr. Rogers is a guy on TV. Wears a lot of sweaters. Not that there’s anything wrong with sweaters, but Southern California in February is not exactly sweater weather.”
Bloody hell. It was Steve Rogers. She didn’t expect him to show up in this place despite meeting many of his Avengers friends and she certainly didn’t expect him to be in her apartment building. Was this actually happening right now? She honestly wasn’t sure what to think about it this because he didn’t look like he did in the dreams, beginning and end, but he looked like a normal guy.
“Mr. Rogers?” Peggy asked in a slight daze as she continued to rub her hip because she certainly wasn’t going to rub anywhere else with him watching her, “And I’m glad I can rely on the two of you to keep my secret.” She wanted so badly to say something about her dreams, but it was obviously clear that he had no idea who she was.
Steve smiled again. “Please--even Dennis calls me Steve,” he teased, and then picked up her basket. She seemed distracted, and he was beginning to get concerned. “You were headed downstairs, right? Maybe we should take these back up. You seem a little...out of it. You didn’t hit your head, did you?”
“No, no. I meant, I have no idea who Mr. Rogers is. I mean, obviously it’s your name, but I’m not sure what he has to do with sweaters…” she was starting to ramble and then when he mentioned her seeming out of it she realized that she needed to snap to attention and stop acting like a complete loon. She would give him a completely wrong impression about herself and that wasn’t something she wanted.
“Downstairs, yes, sorry. And no, I didn’t hit my head. I’m still just a little shaken up from falling, it completely took me by surprise. And don’t worry, I can take a seat down in the laundry room and be okay,” Peggy explained to him as she reached a hand up to brush some hair out of her face, “But thank you for grabbing that for me. I’m Peggy, Peggy Carter.”
It was a lot to process, but Steve smiled, sorting through all that. Now that she was focused on him, she seemed more with it. “Not a problem, Peggy. Let’s head down okay? And I’ll explain who Mr. Rogers is and what the deal is with the sweaters, though frankly I’m appalled that he hasn’t crossed the pond.”
“Well, it may have to do with you not calling it a jumper,” Peggy pointed out with a playful smile. There was a large part of her that wanted to push him against the wall and completely interrogate him about if he knew anything about her and was lying about everything. But the Steve Rogers from her dreams would never lie to her, so that was all she really had to go off of right now. But he certainly wasn’t the Steve from her Dreams and she had to make sure she approached with caution.
“This is America, ma’am,” Steve teased, in reply, starting slowly back down the stairs, just ahead of Peggy. “All due respect to the Brits. And I think technically it’s a cardigan.”
“Therein lies the problem,” Peggy quickly countered with a laugh as she reached out to hold onto the handrail as they made their way down the stairs. The last thing she wanted to do was to fall again, “And I’ll take your word for that one since I have not seen Mr Rogers for myself.”
“That’s a tragedy. Seriously. You’ve had a deprived childhood, Peggy,” Steve insisted. He hadn’t actually been to the laundry room downstairs yet, but thankfully, it was clearly labelled and brightly lit. “I’m sure it’s on YouTube, if you’re curious. But--long story short--Mr. Rogers was probably the nicest man in the world, and he had a children’s show on PBS that was iconic, and growing up as Steve Rogers, well--there were a lot of jokes.”
“Don’t worry, we had our own shows across the pond,” She pointed out with a bit of a smirk as they made it into the laundry room and she fished out some quarters from her pocket for a machine, “And it sounds lovely. I’ll have to check him out on YouTube sometime. And is it really that bad to be compared to him if he’s the nicest man in the world?”
Steve snorted as he set down her basket on the table. “Let’s just say that description doesn’t really apply to me,” he joked. “I’m from New York. We don’t really do ‘nice’.”
It took a large amount of willpower for Peggy to stop from comparing him to his dream version and say that he was basically the Mr. Rogers of the 1940’s, although a little more spunky than the older man. Peggy moved beside him as she began to pull out her clothing to put in the washer, “Says the man that just carried my laundry basket after I injured myself.”
Steve managed to look slightly sheepish. “Yeah, well. You looked like you could use some help. You’re sure you’re okay?” he added, shifting the conversation off of himself.
“Yes, love,” she answered him with a smile as she finished throwing her darks into one washer and then proceeded to throw her whites into the other, “Just a little thrown off by falling down the stairs. I tend to be a little more agile than that.”
Satisfied, Steve nodded and then jerked his thumb towards the stairs. “Alright. I’m going to go, then, if you’re sure.”
There was a part of Peggy that wanted to make him stay just to talk to him for a longer period of time and get a feel for him, but that wasn’t her place to do it. Besides, she needed to figure out what was going on in her mind. She gave him a smile and a nod, “Okay. Thank you so much for bringing my basket down. I appreciate it, Mr. Rogers.”
The corner of his mouth twitched and he laughed, shook his head a little. “Just Steve,” he insisted. “I’ve carried your laundry. I think we’re past formalities, don’t you, Peggy?”
“Perhaps you’re right,” she commented with a small smile as she poured detergent into the washers and deposited her money, “I’ll make sure not to call you that unless you’re wearing a sweater. But again, thank you. Have a lovely rest of your day.”
“You too,” Steve replied, and flashed her a brief smile before heading upstairs, musing that while it wasn’t New York, but the OC couldn’t be too bad, if all the neighbors were like her.