uprightness | ɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ

[ it's one of the only things that truly frighten him, the day the atroma will decide their heartbreak is much more interesting than their romance and she'll be stolen away from him or he would be from her. what was once a thought about all that could be is now very vivid in his arms. steve knows that given a thought, he would fight every battle to stay by her side, to not part from her for a single now, not now when he has a clear idea of what they'll be missing.

he remembers burrowing into her, leaning against her in his old room, on his much smaller bed and how that alone had chased away tension and pain and heartbreak. he kisses her shoulder and nods. ]

it really does.

[ when everything else around them still manages to make her skin crawl (the atroma, the planets, the pinging back and forth between memories) it's him what remains a constant blessing between it all. as she'd said: it makes sense. snuggled here, with him. ]

Back in '47, it's -- shambolic. [ the ssr. her friendships. her relationships. ] It's easier here with you. I suppose I should feel ashamed of preferring space over home.

If you should, then so should I.

[ it's a predictable answer but one he's glad to finally out to words. steve's life has been a puzzle he's been trying to put together since 2012. it's all different, here, everything fall into just the right place. there are concerns and troubles - questioning thoughts that simply do not linger here. ]

i've been trying to recreate the concept of feeling at home since they pulled me out of the ice.

I never bothered. [ to recreate home. she left what was familiar and home-like behind. only... ]

No. That's not quite honest. I moved to New York, after all. [ and peggy had never put this to words before. not exactly. she wets her lips and leans her cheek against the top of his head. ] I can't say I landed there by accident, can I?

I joined SHIELD.

[ he offers, one bit in favor of another. he will tell her about that in years and years to come, for her but it makes all the difference telling her that now, too. ]

I know for a fact that wasn't accidental.

[ he didn't agree because of any argument fury had made; it was always just because of her, because it was her legacy he was helping to uphold.

in the end, it's why he took it apart, too. ]

[ now. there's a knot. peggy squirms a moment, evidently uncomfortable with this initial topic. she knows so little of shield except for what steve and his fellow once-avengers have shared with her. but, on top of that, she'd heard a great deal else from agent fitz.

peggy bites her bottom lip. she doesn't want to say it. and yet. ]

And apparently I named it SHIELD. [ peggy traces a shape -- shield-like -- on the back of his neck. ] Odd bit of sentimentality, that. Sounds unlike me.

It stands for something other than a shield.

[ but honestly, he never really gave it much thought. SHIELD was always just that and steve didn't think that there was any reason behind the name. he never asked peggy about it in their conversation, either. he wasn't sure she'd remember and he never wanted to upset her, either. ]

took me a while to memorize it, really.

[ it's a jest, of course. his memory was always sharp. ]</small.

Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division.

[ she recites it with care. peggy's known the words for near two years -- indeed, that's about as long as she's been in the fleet. her nose crinkles by the end.

and she admits: ] It's a mouthful. A clumsy mouthful. Even so, I'd wager good credits that you remembered it straight away. Cheeky bastard.

[ don't play pretend with her, steve rogers. ]

I'm telling you it took weeks and weeks.

[ he makes it sound so dramatic, as usual but it's a poor joke, seeing as he's still smiling through the complaint. He shifts, kisses her chin first, then her cheek. ]

What does the L stand for again?

[ oh she would love to come up with something witty and playful and false. but the augment glitch does its work, dragging a 'helpful' answer out of her: ] Logistics.

[ she growls, indignant, in the wake of it. a fine distraction is found in kissing his mouth a moment. brief. ]

Are we certain I did the naming? Can't we blame someone else?

Oh come on, it's not that bad.

[ his nose bumps against hers and if his kisses become a degree fiercer, if his fingers escape her own to travel up her side beneath the cotton of her shirt, it's surely to lift her mood. surely.

she's not going to let him get away with it but it's worth a try. ]

it's not like the Avengers is much better.

The 'Avengers' is awful. You should all feel ashamed of that one. So dramatic.

[ her hand curls against his bicep; she gives his arm a shove and shifts gears long enough to mutter a whispered: ] Oi, now, what's all this about?

[ oh she knows what all this is about. ]

It's Tony and Fury, I think. The Avengers Initiative, it's what they called it. the rest of us just went with it - ow.

[ it's a dry, huffy, humored complaint when she shoves at his arm. ]

what's what about?

[ it's a supposedly innocent question. at least he isn't trying to touch her again, not just yet. ]

[ evidently, she's got no interest in discussing fury or tony. her fingers stay tight on his arm -- but her thumb, at least, traces a gentle arc beneath his sleeve. ]

Your wandering hands.

[ she calls them what they are. ]

Just because you got away with it after you woke up from your slumber doesn't mean that history will repeat itself.

Dunno.

[ she's got a firm hold of one arm, the other does indeed wander, nudging her to trace the familiar line of her spine and once again, beneath her shirt. he hums, places a rather loving kiss against her jaw. ]

I remember a very wise woman saying 'everything is a precedent.'

[ look at him! wielding her own logic against her. her lip curls -- but not with any real derision. there's something charming in the way he plies the argument. not least of all because he's arguing in the first place. ]

Oh, I'm not so sure she was so wise in the end.

Very wise, the wisest person I know, really.

[ it's light and playful, same as his touch. it's barely there, really - fleeting and just a bit too soft. he knows better than aim for a firmer one too quickly, especially now, especially here. ]

It was a very good observation.

[ and he pushes her a bit for good measure, moving the palm that's still trapped in her hold upwards, he doesn't shake her hand, simply traps them both near her shoulder. ]

[ peggy doesn't know whether to clock him or kiss him -- the way he takes her words, said at a time when she could have lied all she wanted, and makes her eat them. peggy's fingers squirm against his hand as if she might somehow keep him stilled.

it seems her expressions must be honest, too, because she smiles. ]

It was a mediocre observation at best. But it suits you, just now, to say otherwise.

I never said it was mediocre, not once. you can't blame me for taking things out of perspective when I could have been thinking it was damn brilliant at the time, too.

[ but she's not wrong, it does work wonderfully for him now. it's convenient and easy and hell, it makes her smile. ]

it suited you at the time. might as well make it suit for me. only fair.

There's nothing fair about it.

[ she hisses, leaning in to nose against his cheek and maybe hide from his eyes (for once) as she feels true words bubble up the back of her tongue. ] I suspect you know exactly how fragile the 'rule' really is. Give it a shove and it'll crumble.

[ give her a shove and she'll crumble, she means. but she's never said so before -- always hiding behind a guise of self-control and easy denial. ]

I'll give it two shoves, then.

[ he says, as honest to a fault as her at the moment. if they have to discuss the rule, there isn't any part of him that's going to hide what he feels about it. unadulterated frustration mixed with annoyance and a note of long-suffering on top. ]

we should have thrown that one out the airlock months ago.

Months ago! Months ago, we hadn't even -- [ she pauses with an uptick of her brows. honesty at least sparing her from outright saying so.

well, if they're going to talk about this then she's resolved to talk about it with a level head and without his fingers playing siren's calls along her spine. she nudges him back onto his side of the bed. ]

As rules go, it has its uses. [ she huffs. annoyingly, just earlier this day, she'd unintentionally blabbed about the rule to natasha. ]

Oi -

[ he complains but moves nonetheless, shifting backwards onto his back with a sigh of great, horrible agony. she might as well have gone and hit him in the face again with how dramatic he is about it all. ]

It doesn't have any uses. Peggy, it's unnatural. It's not going to work for much longer. It's not working now. Can we just leave these things to common sense rather than rules?

[ but is he going to be any good with common sense? by the way he eyes her, that's not entirely clear. ]

Common sense!

[ there's a lot she could seize upon -- although unfortunately he makes good points with some of his arguments. but hands off, and with a bit of space between them, she can at least approach the topic with a modicum of objectivity.

she pillows her head on her arms, folding them behind her neck. ]

Since when have you had any common sense?

I have enough common sense to know this isn't going to work -- you have enough common sense to know this isn't going to work.

[ and steve doesn't do well with this distance between them. he shuffles closer, rests an arm around her middle. ]

we have to come up with something else. call it plan B, but the rule has to go.

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