[ On her end, nothing more than a sharp, sad exhale and a tight fist around the brooch he left behind. What does she say? I'm sorry isn't quite right and neither is a glib All right, then. So after a few seconds: ]
[ Not long after, he is, with JB in tow. One knock on the door, a pause, and three rapid taps in quick succession to alert her to his entry, and he pushes the door open. ]
[ She's doing dishes when he comes in, glancing over her shoulder to greet him and JB with a quirk of her lips. ]
JB is more well-behaved than many of the men I served with. I'm not worried. [ She's left the bed for now, not sure if she should strip the sheets or simply straighten them with military precision. ] Hello, Eggsy.
[ He crosses the room slowly, taking in the half-lived-in state with cursory glances. Unfinished. It fits with Percy being in stasis for god knows how long.
After a long moment, he comes up beside her and kisses her on the cheek. ]
Hey, Peg.
[ If they hugged, he doesn't think that he'd hold it together, so he moves to dry and store the finished dishes instead. ]
[ She leans over to receive the greeting, a reflex by now but the gesture is never any less touching for it. He knows, by now, that she is not an overly affectionate sort of person — not because she doesn't feel like it, because God, does she feel too much and too deeply. But with their friendship and partnership coming up on nearly a year now, some things have been well earned.
Which is why she knows when to give him an out, here. ]
I'd give you a hug, [ says the woman who Does Not Hug as a rule, ] but I'd hate to get your things all wet. [ On the countertop by the sink is the golden brooch of Olympia and after a few moments, she inclines her head to it. ] I'm not sure what to do with that.
[ She doesn't think he ever used it; seems a waste of a good spell. ]
[ JB sits near Eggsy's feet, obedient for the moment.
At the excuse over forgoing a hug, he smiles to himself, attention focused on the plates. ]
You should hold onto it. [ said simply. ] 'Least for a little while.
[ not keep it, when there's still a chance of his return in some form, but Eggsy isn't foolish or even an optimist. Peggy should have it. She deserved one, in the first place, and she won't misuse it. ]
[ She huffs out a breath at that. So much for suggesting he take it after spending his own shield at the Institute. But she also knows he'd press the issue if she disagreed so she simply nods. (Percy hadn't been pleased to learn she didn't get one, either. Seems fitting.) ]
It will be perfectly safe with me. [ The jewellery box that holds a few trinkets, some less mundane than others. ] We'll give it a few days. I know the odds aren't ideal, [ she says, knowing full well they've both lost more than a few friends over the past few months, ] but we can hope.
[ JB barks in reply, moving from his spot to nip at her heels. ]
That's all we can do. [ helpless yet a teensy bit hopeful. ]
[ At Peggy's acquiescence, relief softens his features. He hadn't expected it to be this easy (entangled as it is in things that are unfailingly messy). ]
We broke in, the least we can do is make it a little nicer than how we found it.
[ That's not what breaking in usually entails as both of them are well aware, but the mood feels so heavy in the air, she's doing her best to lighten it. This is a hard one to swallow; but John had been harder. Peggy can bottle up what she can and take it out for self-examination later, but right now her priority is Eggsy.
Seems like he takes these sort of things harder than most. (She remembers how he shut her out after Henry DeVere left.) She doesn't think any less of him for it. In fact, she wishes she were as open, sometimes. But that wasn't the done thing in her time, in her position, in her place in society. ]
He doesn't have to know we were ever here. [ She smiles briefly, bumping her shoulder gently to his. Familiar, familial. ] Our speciality.
[ He feels like people disappear as soon as they begin to know him well. He told James what he was, and he was gone within the month. Because of her powers, Jean figured it out — and then she was gone.
Percy now, too.
People die. People leave. That's true on any planet. ]
Mm. [ A hum of acknowledgment. Her gesture even makes his mouth wrinkle, nearly a smile. He leans back against the counter, hands curled on the edge. ] Our specialty on good days.
[ On bad days, students see him tilting at robots. ]
[ She almost laughs, but it sounds more like an exhale. ]
Most of our days are good, [ she points out gently. ] And I daresay our little adventure went better than expected, given that we're still here.
[ They could have been hauled in by the Guard or Evras or Cree himself for calling attention to his hidden agenda. And yet they've somehow, miraculously, remained under the radar — and have done for months. She puts away the last utensil and wipes her hands on a dish towel, studying him quietly. While she's aware this is a promise that's unfair of her to make because she cannot possibly keep it. So much of this is beyond their control. But she reaches over to rest her hand over his on the countertop and says: ]
I'm still here. And I'm not going anywhere — not if I can help it.
[ His gaze flickers down to their hands and then back to her face. He can tell she's worried in some capacity — trying to comfort him more than deal with anything herself.
You can't help it, he wants to say, but of course Peggy knows that. And it's a childish retort, anyway. No one can help it, not here, not on Earth. Not any more than his father, Harry, or his friends among the refugees.
Ultimately, he shrugs. He'd been foolish enough to say something similar to Bellamy and receive it in return. I don't know what I'd without you. "Good thing you don't have to find out." On the contrary, Eggsy would find out soon enough. ]
Me either. [ It's a small comfort, but that's all he feels capable of offering.
For a spy, he prefers not to lie, so he shifts, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before he walks away, toward Percy's bedroom. Then, casually tossed over his shoulder — ] I should invest in a fake mustache.
[ She's not one for empty promises, but that wasn't one when it comes down to it. Not if I can help it. It would never be her choice to leave behind anyone she cares about; no man left behind was something drilled into her for years. And while that was easier for soldiers than spies, the sentiment remains. (Once upon a time, in a bombed out London pub, she told Steve he wouldn't be alone in his fight. Not long after, when he pointed the nose of a plane towards the Arctic ice, she was with him until the line went dead. He wasn't alone.)
She watches Eggsy go, put in whatever distance he needs between them and the moment. The quip has her raising an eyebrow but she stays where she is, lest he feel that she's hovering. ]
I happen to think you'd look terrible in one, [ comes the equally casual reply. She's not wrong. ] Which may be a good enough reason to do it. May I ask why?
[ That makes him bark a laugh from the bedroom, and he peaks out behind the door-frame, chin tilted up and brows arched in challenge. ]
Worried my handsome face is too much otherwise? [ Yeah, right. 'Course he doesn't let the quip hang out for long. ] I went out in broad daylight on a job and put my face to it. My glasses. My suit. My hair.
[ Would a Kingsman handler have allowed that? Most of his practice missions were less covert, except for the honeypot, but even then he hadn't been worried about exposure.
He ducks back into the bedroom in search of spare sheets, but his voice carries into the hall. ]
This ain't London. [ A sea of people, from all over the country and the world, countless boys who look and sound like him. ] The world's too small.
[ She follows him into the bedroom when he carries on the conversation, her gait hardly carrying a trace of a limp now that she's had some time to recover. But she doesn't cross beyond the doorway, leaning against it instead with her arms crossed as she watches him fuss with the bed. ]
It is, [ she agrees. It's why she still goes out and about in her trademark 1940s style — the trademark is what she's after. So the second she does other work, all of that disappears and Peggy Carter with it, replaced by a nondescript native. But: ] Don't be so hard on yourself, Eggsy. We only ever accounted for me going undercover, not the pair of us. How were we supposed to know the entire assignment would go to hell in a hand basket?
[ She exhales. The thing is, she should have known. Account for every possible outcome. She's not green. But robots? ]
[ He finds half of what he's looking for: Sheets, no pillow cases. His stomach twists, another twinge at the loss of Percy. Figures a sixteen-year-old boy wouldn't have a perfectly sorted or filled apartment.
In fairness, the only reason Eggsy's flat is organised is because of his time in the military, and it's only well-equipped because of Harry. ]
We should have accounted for it. [ said neutrally. In a larger operation, someone would have considered the scenario where Eggsy faced witnessed or perhaps even was snapped by a robotic camera.
He only says we because she said it first. The part of him that is hard on himself thinks he alone is to blame for any exposure. Considering the manhunt and ban on supposed traitors like Rocket, he doesn't take the scenario lightly.
He sets the wrinkled sheets on the side table. ] And for severe injuries.
[ His mouth gives him away then, corners tipping downward. Her wound scared him. And without a doctor in the loop anymore, who could they turn to in the event of something worse? If the bullet had punctured her gut instead — without infrastructure, handlers, mentors and back-up, everything is harder. ]
[ She does catch the shift in his expression and her own mirrors it, almost unconsciously. But while he thinks of her, she's thinking of him — one man against two machines wielding blades, his agility the only thing saving him from being bloody impaled. Compared to that, being shot is nothing. (Then again, it's true; what would they have done if either of them suffered anything worse? Vital organs, arteries, bones. Eventually they'll need to loop someone in that can help them there, likely in other places too. Someone on the outside with their ear to the ground.)
Another breath, and then she — laughs, a little. Trying to ease the mood, the tension. It's not dismissive, it's almost self-deprecating, if she did that sort of thing. But the smile she wears is gentle. ]
It looked worse than it was. [ Peggy crosses to him, ostensibly to help. ] It wasn't the first time I've been shot, either; my third, in fact. [ But a grand total of four scars; the two in her shoulder were one unfortunate afternoon in enemy territory. ] And now my left and right legs match.
[ She ducks her head a little to catch his eye; all joking aside: ]
It's dangerous, what we do. But we wouldn't be in this business if we didn't think we could handle it.
[ Peggy Carter is tough. He doesn't doubt that. And for once, he's the one pressing, pushing at boundaries and fishing for serious answers, while she lightens the mood. He lifts the pillows off the bed, chucking them into a chair in the corner. Great aim, as ever, but it's a bit of a laddy move. Makes him more relaxed, trying to warm the mood, too. ]
We can handle it. [ He agrees with a nod and a particularly accurate toss. ]
But we need to loop someone in — [ His expression shifts, more apologetic. ] — not just Roxy. [ who he made the call to include, even if he and Peggy made it a near inevitability when they arrived at his flat visibly injured. ] We need a medic.
[ At the minimum. They'd be better off with more help and resources, but that's too ambitious for what they're up to presently. ]
[ Her smile flickers at that, goes a little more sad on the edges, even as she watches him tidy up a room in a way she certainly wouldn't. ]
We need John. [ It's the first time she's talked about him beyond informing others he'd gone back to stasis. That box she tucks everything away into rattles but doesn't burst open. ] Inconsiderate of him, taking a nap when we needed him most.
[ No, that's uncharitable. She sighs, sets a hand on her hip. ]
You're not wrong. A medic on call would be wise, especially if we're expected to take on more jobs like the last one. [ Which is likely, since Cree now knows they're capable of it. ] And I happen to know someone who is qualified. I'd trust her with my life. Only...
[ She looks over at him and she knows he'll be able to read her expression. Only she doesn't know who I am. Not really. Claire Fraser has known her for close to a year now and has never learned the truth. It's a hard conversation to have. ]
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[ And neither of them noticed. Not their fault, she knows, but the pang of guilt remains. ]
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found him.
[ Ghostly and suspended. Eggsy's curses echo across the stasis hall. ]
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Thank you for checking.
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[ You're welcome would feel wrong. ]
sometimes people wake up
[ not his people, though, and they're never the same when they do. ]
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Yes, that's true.
I suppose I should do a bit of washing up in here, in case he does.
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[ "need" said so she can easily dismiss him, if she wants. ]
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Yes, actually, if you wouldn't mind.
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[ Not long after, he is, with JB in tow. One knock on the door, a pause, and three rapid taps in quick succession to alert her to his entry, and he pushes the door open. ]
— and don't you make a mess, JB.
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JB is more well-behaved than many of the men I served with. I'm not worried. [ She's left the bed for now, not sure if she should strip the sheets or simply straighten them with military precision. ] Hello, Eggsy.
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After a long moment, he comes up beside her and kisses her on the cheek. ]
Hey, Peg.
[ If they hugged, he doesn't think that he'd hold it together, so he moves to dry and store the finished dishes instead. ]
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Which is why she knows when to give him an out, here. ]
I'd give you a hug, [ says the woman who Does Not Hug as a rule, ] but I'd hate to get your things all wet. [ On the countertop by the sink is the golden brooch of Olympia and after a few moments, she inclines her head to it. ] I'm not sure what to do with that.
[ She doesn't think he ever used it; seems a waste of a good spell. ]
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At the excuse over forgoing a hug, he smiles to himself, attention focused on the plates. ]
You should hold onto it. [ said simply. ] 'Least for a little while.
[ not keep it, when there's still a chance of his return in some form, but Eggsy isn't foolish or even an optimist. Peggy should have it. She deserved one, in the first place, and she won't misuse it. ]
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It will be perfectly safe with me. [ The jewellery box that holds a few trinkets, some less mundane than others. ] We'll give it a few days. I know the odds aren't ideal, [ she says, knowing full well they've both lost more than a few friends over the past few months, ] but we can hope.
Isn't that right, JB?
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That's all we can do. [ helpless yet a teensy bit hopeful. ]
[ At Peggy's acquiescence, relief softens his features. He hadn't expected it to be this easy (entangled as it is in things that are unfailingly messy). ]
He's lucky we ain't leaving shit to get moldy.
[ as if Eggsy hasn't done this before. ]
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[ That's not what breaking in usually entails as both of them are well aware, but the mood feels so heavy in the air, she's doing her best to lighten it. This is a hard one to swallow; but John had been harder. Peggy can bottle up what she can and take it out for self-examination later, but right now her priority is Eggsy.
Seems like he takes these sort of things harder than most. (She remembers how he shut her out after Henry DeVere left.) She doesn't think any less of him for it. In fact, she wishes she were as open, sometimes. But that wasn't the done thing in her time, in her position, in her place in society. ]
He doesn't have to know we were ever here. [ She smiles briefly, bumping her shoulder gently to his. Familiar, familial. ] Our speciality.
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Percy now, too.
People die. People leave. That's true on any planet. ]
Mm. [ A hum of acknowledgment. Her gesture even makes his mouth wrinkle, nearly a smile. He leans back against the counter, hands curled on the edge. ] Our specialty on good days.
[ On bad days, students see him tilting at robots. ]
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Most of our days are good, [ she points out gently. ] And I daresay our little adventure went better than expected, given that we're still here.
[ They could have been hauled in by the Guard or Evras or Cree himself for calling attention to his hidden agenda. And yet they've somehow, miraculously, remained under the radar — and have done for months. She puts away the last utensil and wipes her hands on a dish towel, studying him quietly. While she's aware this is a promise that's unfair of her to make because she cannot possibly keep it. So much of this is beyond their control. But she reaches over to rest her hand over his on the countertop and says: ]
I'm still here. And I'm not going anywhere — not if I can help it.
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You can't help it, he wants to say, but of course Peggy knows that. And it's a childish retort, anyway. No one can help it, not here, not on Earth. Not any more than his father, Harry, or his friends among the refugees.
Ultimately, he shrugs. He'd been foolish enough to say something similar to Bellamy and receive it in return. I don't know what I'd without you. "Good thing you don't have to find out." On the contrary, Eggsy would find out soon enough. ]
Me either. [ It's a small comfort, but that's all he feels capable of offering.
For a spy, he prefers not to lie, so he shifts, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before he walks away, toward Percy's bedroom. Then, casually tossed over his shoulder — ] I should invest in a fake mustache.
[ jokes!! but also not. ]
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She watches Eggsy go, put in whatever distance he needs between them and the moment. The quip has her raising an eyebrow but she stays where she is, lest he feel that she's hovering. ]
I happen to think you'd look terrible in one, [ comes the equally casual reply.
She's not wrong.] Which may be a good enough reason to do it. May I ask why?let me LIVE
Worried my handsome face is too much otherwise? [ Yeah, right. 'Course he doesn't let the quip hang out for long. ] I went out in broad daylight on a job and put my face to it. My glasses. My suit. My hair.
[ Would a Kingsman handler have allowed that? Most of his practice missions were less covert, except for the honeypot, but even then he hadn't been worried about exposure.
He ducks back into the bedroom in search of spare sheets, but his voice carries into the hall. ]
This ain't London. [ A sea of people, from all over the country and the world, countless boys who look and sound like him. ] The world's too small.
CAW CAW
It is, [ she agrees. It's why she still goes out and about in her trademark 1940s style — the trademark is what she's after. So the second she does other work, all of that disappears and Peggy Carter with it, replaced by a nondescript native. But: ] Don't be so hard on yourself, Eggsy. We only ever accounted for me going undercover, not the pair of us. How were we supposed to know the entire assignment would go to hell in a hand basket?
[ She exhales. The thing is, she should have known. Account for every possible outcome. She's not green. But robots? ]
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In fairness, the only reason Eggsy's flat is organised is because of his time in the military, and it's only well-equipped because of Harry. ]
We should have accounted for it. [ said neutrally. In a larger operation, someone would have considered the scenario where Eggsy faced witnessed or perhaps even was snapped by a robotic camera.
He only says we because she said it first. The part of him that is hard on himself thinks he alone is to blame for any exposure. Considering the manhunt and ban on supposed traitors like Rocket, he doesn't take the scenario lightly.
He sets the wrinkled sheets on the side table. ] And for severe injuries.
[ His mouth gives him away then, corners tipping downward. Her wound scared him. And without a doctor in the loop anymore, who could they turn to in the event of something worse? If the bullet had punctured her gut instead — without infrastructure, handlers, mentors and back-up, everything is harder. ]
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Another breath, and then she — laughs, a little. Trying to ease the mood, the tension. It's not dismissive, it's almost self-deprecating, if she did that sort of thing. But the smile she wears is gentle. ]
It looked worse than it was. [ Peggy crosses to him, ostensibly to help. ] It wasn't the first time I've been shot, either; my third, in fact. [ But a grand total of four scars; the two in her shoulder were one unfortunate afternoon in enemy territory. ] And now my left and right legs match.
[ She ducks her head a little to catch his eye; all joking aside: ]
It's dangerous, what we do. But we wouldn't be in this business if we didn't think we could handle it.
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We can handle it. [ He agrees with a nod and a particularly accurate toss. ]
But we need to loop someone in — [ His expression shifts, more apologetic. ] — not just Roxy. [ who he made the call to include, even if he and Peggy made it a near inevitability when they arrived at his flat visibly injured. ] We need a medic.
[ At the minimum. They'd be better off with more help and resources, but that's too ambitious for what they're up to presently. ]
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We need John. [ It's the first time she's talked about him beyond informing others he'd gone back to stasis. That box she tucks everything away into rattles but doesn't burst open. ] Inconsiderate of him, taking a nap when we needed him most.
[ No, that's uncharitable. She sighs, sets a hand on her hip. ]
You're not wrong. A medic on call would be wise, especially if we're expected to take on more jobs like the last one. [ Which is likely, since Cree now knows they're capable of it. ] And I happen to know someone who is qualified. I'd trust her with my life. Only...
[ She looks over at him and she knows he'll be able to read her expression. Only she doesn't know who I am. Not really. Claire Fraser has known her for close to a year now and has never learned the truth. It's a hard conversation to have. ]
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