[ peggy's on her stomach -- ankles crossed in the air, and her own communicator angled against a pillow. she scowls at the announcement in question, as though she'd already been dreading steve's inevitable verdict on the matter. ]
We're not late to anything. Such pomp and circumstance is hardly a requisite of any relationship.
[ she turns her head, settling her chin against her palm. ]
[ she pushes her communicator aside and pins her attention wholly on him. ]
Ten months? [ a bit of mental math. ] You're counting from the moment you turned up in the Fleet.
[ cheeky bastard. now and again, she uncovers new depths to his sentimentality. this one, however, catches her off-guard. not the party so much as his clear-cut decision on dating the conception of this relationship. ]
[ as easy and as naturally as that. he doesn't seem to think much of it, it just makes sense. he's been quietly counting for ten months now, after all. they're not the kind of people who celebrate each month separately but in only two months it'll be a year and that's rather important, isn't it? ]
Put like that -- [ ten months ] -- it almost sounds impressive.
[ certainly, it's the longest steady relationship she's ever had. there might have been a betting pool back in bletchley over how long it would take fred to pop the question, but engagements all moved so quickly during wartime. ]
Still. There's no need for any announcements. Late or otherwise.
It's very impressive. You've been putting up with me for a while now, almost a year, really.
[ he closes the book, puts his communicator on top of it. ]
You know how they do it these days? they change their status on their online profile - Facebook. It's supposed to be a very big deal, they change it from 'single' to 'in relationship' and include the other person's profile.
It sounds absurd. [ her armour is out in fullest force, it seems. there's something she's guarding. protecting. and with most people, she can shoo them off with a bit of serrated attitude and a glare.
but steve's never been easily deterred. ]
Do they hold parties for that, as well? Changing a few zeros to ones on a screen? [ programming and computer references are (slowly) becoming more natural to her. ]
Mon-El said on his planet it's tradition. But - no, they don't. They hold house-warming parties when they move in together and engagements and weddings but.
[ he tries to think back and shakes his head. ]
Never really heard of any party celebrating dating.
Thank God. [ she, too, shakes her head. customary or not, the thought of being so central to a party's attention (once again) makes her uncomfortable. ] I can't stomach those things. All the bunting and the champagne glasses and the endless chit-chat with near-strangers.
[ at least at work she's compensated for her lies and facades. ]
[ peggy hadn't been talking about the fleet. but, of course, steve wasn't privy to that distinction -- only she had been, deep in her mind and remembering the smell of the grass and the sound of the band. peggy sighs away her concession, pulls her fingers through her hair, and tells him what he wants to hear. ]
It's a lovely story. [ well. sort of what he wants to hear. ] And if they're both happy with that sort of exuberance? All the power to them.
For her sake, I hope it did. [ go well. but peggy's gut reaction is an indignant horror. then again, she's never been one for surprises. so rarely are they as sweet as intended. ] But I wouldn't blame her for getting her hackles up. As gestures go, it's rather indelicate.
Announcing a fledgling relationship is miles away from announcing just about any other milestone.
[ he nods, tries not to chuckle. indelicate is certainly an appropriate adjective. ]
But I guess it isn't different than the status change. These things seem to be more public lately. They don't really announce weddings and engagements on the newspapers anymore, I guess that's something, too.
I've come 'round to the notion than an ideally lived life should come with having one's name printed in the papers only twice: under birth announcements, and then under the obituaries. Everything else is information that other people never need.
[ she watches him -- loving, and familiar -- and decides that although he has no right or claim on her secrets, she still might owe him a better understanding of her stance. ] Those two things are certainties, at least. With everything else, you also run the risk of looking like a fool if it does stick. Engagements break all the time.
[ and safe; but then, love tosses those two things out the window at times. ]
I guess it's human nature though. You may know something can end, engagements or marriages but at the time, you still wanna celebrate since it means a lot, you forget the risk.
I don't think I can. Anymore. [ -- forget the risk.
peggy turns just so. a fresh angle allows her to curl her fingers around the curve of his wrist, drawing his hand down to the mattress and prying away the communicator. it's a distraction, really. ]
I was engaged, once. During the war. Things ended poorly. [ ... ] So there's a newspaper announcement and a party I wish I could take back.
[ he watches her for a moment and then settles down, takes her hand in his, the tip of his thumb following the lines on her palm. Perhaps it's because of their history, that his mind goes a very certain way when it concludes what happened, and his concern multiplies, at once. ]
Oh, Steve. [ she tilts her head with a sudden recognition of his sympathy -- and his goodwill along with it. it's sweet of him to worry, really. and she never expected anything less of his reaction. ] No. Nothing like that. Quite the opposite.
[ except, of course, for michael. and she knows his name will be brought up in time. but that's a tragedy steve's already been told; he doesn't need to learn it all over again. ]
He never went. [ ... ] He served with the Home Office. Never had to leave his desk, I suspect, outside of officers' luncheons.
[ but peggy went, he completes the sentence silently. peggy went overseas to do much more than office work and steve doesn't ask, doesn't pry into the details of an unhappy memory, simply assumes it wasn't received very well, that a clash was created between a man who favored desk-work and luncheons and a woman who wanted to do more. ]
No, never. I joined SOE, and then SSR. And then -- [ she met steve, and everything else had crumbled away aside from her work and her duty. peggy clears her throat and shakes her head and she knows she doesn't need to finish the sentence. he'll understand. ]
He and I wanted very different things. I'm certain he found himself a much better match.
It's just as well, really. I can't argue with the path it set me on -- and to think I turned down the first offer for field work. I'm damned lucky they gave me a second chance.
[ to take risks. to find adventure. to make good on michael's recommendation, considering her last conversation with him had been an argument. ]
I think about that second chance and then I think about your collection of 4Fs. Both of us very nearly never went to war.
I guess that's just it, isn't it? sometime seizing these chances, weird as they are is what people need to do. You did important things in the war, you made a difference in many people's lives. You made it count exactly because of the risk.
[ it's a relaxed sort of conversation. in the end, her previous engagement is accepted without a single blink. peggy has lived a life before him and will leave a damn exciting life after him and he knows how to be grateful for each detail she allows him to know. ]
Without you, I might have been nothing more than propaganda material. You've taken a risk that day, too. Never told you how much I appreciated it.
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concern and a bit of scolding safely out of the way, however, and steve is finally beginning to see the humor in all of that. ]
You know, taking this into account, we're late with our announcement.
[ really late considering he's currently sitting on the bed he's sharing with her book in one hand, communicator in another. ]
Not to mention the party.
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We're not late to anything. Such pomp and circumstance is hardly a requisite of any relationship.
[ she turns her head, settling her chin against her palm. ]
Don't go getting ideas.
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[ but it's mostly said half as a joke and half because the official number does make him more than a little happy. ]
You know ours can be in writing -
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Ten months? [ a bit of mental math. ] You're counting from the moment you turned up in the Fleet.
[ cheeky bastard. now and again, she uncovers new depths to his sentimentality. this one, however, catches her off-guard. not the party so much as his clear-cut decision on dating the conception of this relationship. ]
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[ as easy and as naturally as that. he doesn't seem to think much of it, it just makes sense. he's been quietly counting for ten months now, after all. they're not the kind of people who celebrate each month separately but in only two months it'll be a year and that's rather important, isn't it? ]
Just always made sense to count this way.
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[ certainly, it's the longest steady relationship she's ever had. there might have been a betting pool back in bletchley over how long it would take fred to pop the question, but engagements all moved so quickly during wartime. ]
Still. There's no need for any announcements. Late or otherwise.
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[ he closes the book, puts his communicator on top of it. ]
You know how they do it these days? they change their status on their online profile - Facebook. It's supposed to be a very big deal, they change it from 'single' to 'in relationship' and include the other person's profile.
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but steve's never been easily deterred. ]
Do they hold parties for that, as well? Changing a few zeros to ones on a screen? [ programming and computer references are (slowly) becoming more natural to her. ]
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[ he tries to think back and shakes his head. ]
Never really heard of any party celebrating dating.
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[ at least at work she's compensated for her lies and facades. ]
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[ with the network and the ships, it's amazing he hasn't met mon-el up until now. ]
Or champange. Still - I guess it's nice she has someone who's so excited about being with her, she deserves that.
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It's a lovely story. [ well. sort of what he wants to hear. ] And if they're both happy with that sort of exuberance? All the power to them.
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[ and he cringes a bit since it's obvious kara isn't the happiest with this turn of events. ]
They're from the same world, but I don't think they're exactly from the same background. He seems genuine. I'll ask her if it went well later on.
[ give her a bit of time to extinguish this particular fire. ]
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Announcing a fledgling relationship is miles away from announcing just about any other milestone.
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[ he nods, tries not to chuckle. indelicate is certainly an appropriate adjective. ]
But I guess it isn't different than the status change. These things seem to be more public lately. They don't really announce weddings and engagements on the newspapers anymore, I guess that's something, too.
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[ she watches him -- loving, and familiar -- and decides that although he has no right or claim on her secrets, she still might owe him a better understanding of her stance. ] Those two things are certainties, at least. With everything else, you also run the risk of looking like a fool if it does stick. Engagements break all the time.
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[ and safe; but then, love tosses those two things out the window at times. ]
I guess it's human nature though. You may know something can end, engagements or marriages but at the time, you still wanna celebrate since it means a lot, you forget the risk.
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peggy turns just so. a fresh angle allows her to curl her fingers around the curve of his wrist, drawing his hand down to the mattress and prying away the communicator. it's a distraction, really. ]
I was engaged, once. During the war. Things ended poorly. [ ... ] So there's a newspaper announcement and a party I wish I could take back.
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He never came back from the front-lines?
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[ except, of course, for michael. and she knows his name will be brought up in time. but that's a tragedy steve's already been told; he doesn't need to learn it all over again. ]
He never went. [ ... ] He served with the Home Office. Never had to leave his desk, I suspect, outside of officers' luncheons.
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Have you seen him? afterwards?
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He and I wanted very different things. I'm certain he found himself a much better match.
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[ but in the end, that hardly matters. he keeps his hold on her hand as he shifts, lying on his side, crossing over some distance. ]
It's a bad fallout. Can't say I know what that's like. I guess in a way, I've always knew what finding the right partner feels like.
[ finding and losing and finding once more and yet, his first love was Peggy and Peggy always felt right. ]
But you're still one of the biggest risk-takers I know and you're still the best girl I've ever met, bad fallouts or not.
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[ to take risks. to find adventure. to make good on michael's recommendation, considering her last conversation with him had been an argument. ]
I think about that second chance and then I think about your collection of 4Fs. Both of us very nearly never went to war.
[ the odds had been so slim. and yet! ]
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[ it's a relaxed sort of conversation. in the end, her previous engagement is accepted without a single blink. peggy has lived a life before him and will leave a damn exciting life after him and he knows how to be grateful for each detail she allows him to know. ]
Without you, I might have been nothing more than propaganda material. You've taken a risk that day, too. Never told you how much I appreciated it.
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