ɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ

[uprightness]

STEVE ROGERS;

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[mucked]

Back then -- [ she alludes to when they'd first known each other. during the war, during the howling commandos, during everything that had gone unsaid and undone and unexpressed. ] I never pinned you as the domestic type. Tidying cupboards and labeling jars.

[ her tea's gone lukewarm by now. all the same, she takes a sip. ]

[uprightness]

[ he laughs, drops his gaze to his palms; the gesture is almost shy. she's not wrong, of course. in fact, her assessment is entirely correct. still - ]

Never figured I'll have to keep things tidy on a spaceship.

[ back then. it's so rare that they talk about these days that steve worries it might have to do with the glitch. ]

There wasn't that much to do. can't do much about dreams.

[ especially with her asleep. ]

[mucked]

You didn't have any, did you?

[ she imagines he mustn't have. this conversation would have gone differently -- his notes, too, would have been different. she flicks through the few pages, always impressed with the thorough nature of his work. even when thoroughness wasn't exactly merited. ]

Dreams, I mean.

[ even if he can't ask her questions, she can ask some of him. ]

[uprightness]

No.

[ he shakes his head, reclaiming his place by her side and looking at the notes. ]

Not a one.

[ his dreams have never been pleasant but they haven't been this odd, either. a small mercy, really. ]

one of bucky's crew did, Wrath.

[mucked]

[ bucky. peggy's not proud of how it takes a moment to readjust to the memories about barnes as they slot into place. oh, yes, bucky. alive and himself and then she remembers howard and... ]

-- Did any of ours?

[ ours. their crew. she's quick to claim them, no matter the state of her memories. her throat clears; she's avoiding one topic in favour of another. ]

[uprightness]

Not that I know of. If they did, they haven't been speaking about it.

[ though he's not proud to admit he wasn't the most accessible to them during the week. his mood wasn't good and he's taken to being reclusive, as he usually does when something goes amiss in a way that doesn't endanger lives. ]

[mucked]

They're not all the most talkative lot -- [ she says with a waggle of her head, neither a shake nor a nod but some sort of non-committal gesture caught between the two. peggy brushes dog hair off the bedspread with a sigh and...

and, well, she thinks about the least talkative of the lot. the one who'd guarded her bedside the last time she'd been knocked out like this. ]

What about Max? Has he caused you any trouble?

[ she imagines the rest might listen to steve in her absence. max, however, is something of a particular case. ]

[uprightness]

No, nothing really. Haven't seen him today but.

[ he shakes his head. ]

No trouble, no.

[ he fears she might be able to spell out the truth. he's been good at the technical side of maintaining her position, minding the network, doing reports, making sure they're well-stocked before they left the planet.

engaging with people, however, hasn't been his strongest suit. ]

[mucked]

-- He's not been in here?

[ there's the augment again, working its dark magic. steve hadn't asked a question, but when peggy asks hers there's a hint of confession to be found in the words. it isn't that she's disappointed max hasn't been around -- but rather that she finds his absence troubling. has he been out, again, getting himself into scraps?

or perhaps it's steve that's the change in the equation. last time, there'd been no captain america to darken the doorstep with worry. last time, the room had been her room and not their room. so peggy shakes her head, holds up a hand before he can answer the question, and asks a different one instead. ]

What about you? You alright?

[ the question she should have asked from the outset but whose answer she suspects she already knows. ]

[uprightness]

[ he frowns, watching something play behind her eyes, watching her ask a question and dropping it. evidently confused, he almost forgets that she asked him another question altogether. it dawns on him a heartbeat later and he shakes his head, tries to shake the confusion with it. ]

I'm fine, yeah.

[mucked]

Fine.

[ she repeats the word -- underlining, perhaps, its barely-there veneer of sincerity. ]

One week, hm? So I pray you only managed to cause a third of the strife I did while you were out for three.

[uprightness]

I don't think I could have caused much of anything.

[ it's hard to when one avoids interactions at all costs. he assumes their crew knows he's been avoiding them but then again, avoidance has yet to cause strife. ]

I kept busy. It's been fine.

[mucked]

I don't see any dents in our walls.

[ though, admittedly, she's yet to leave the room. ]

Well done.

[uprightness]

No, no dents.

[ oh hell. she will see her punching bag. it just now dawns on him that despite hermione and bucky's help in putting it together again, she'll see it and then -

he doesn't hurry to accept the praise; he clears his throat and manages a smile. ]

no dents anywhere, for that matter.

[ well it was never a dent. more of a tear, really. ]

[mucked]

...How many jars got smashed?

[ 'got' smashed. ]

[uprightness]

--- None.

[ but he does scoot just a bit backwards and away from her. ]

I didn't smash any jars.

[mucked]

[ -- oh, she sees that scooting. peggy frowns. ]

Alright. [ no jars. ] What did you smash?

[uprightness]

-- Nothing.

[ it's not really a lie. he didn't smash it. if he just sticks to her choice of vocabulary, it's all going to be fine. ]

I didn't smash anything.

[mucked]

[ oh, something is up. and she might be the one glitched to tell the truth, but she turns a merciless curiosity onto him. ]

You do realize I'm trained in interrogation, yes? [ and she can recognize a dodge when she sees one. ] Thoroughly. I've cracked better liars than you, darling.

[ and, just like that, she eases back into what's become habit. darling. ]

[uprightness]

I'm well aware.

[ and he's such a terrible liar. well. there's only one thing to do when one knows they're faced with a determined brilliant woman whose punching bag they've wronged. ]

--- well. that in mind, I'll be back.

[ later. much later. look at him backing away ]

I should probably go check on romanoff. she was supposed to be here, always is.

[ natasha can come and go during the night, too but it's a good excuse as any. ]

[mucked]

[ no.

peggy's just woken up, she's been met with a strange dog, she's got truth dribbling out her ears, and he thinks he can just leave? but it's nearly endearing the way she reaches out and grabs him by his arm -- hauling him back within her immediate personal space with as much conviction and dismay as she might have similarly banished him with. ]

She can wait.

[uprightness]

[ it all would have been terribly attractive if he weren't so concerned about the whole thing. he makes to leave, she pulls him back and they end up nose to nose, steve worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. ]

----- okay but. just - try to remember, it's been put together again. it's even better than it used to be, really.

[mucked]

[ they're so close she can almost feel heat radiating off of him. they're so close she needs to shift her focus between his eyes. the very air seems to crackle; all the softer edges have been sharpened to points, ground and honed by just a few days 'back home.' ]

And what's been put back together again, exactly?

[ she fears the worst. to his (or her?) credit, the punching bag is nowhere near her thoughts. ]

[uprightness]

-- well.

[ there's no point beating about the bush, it might just anger her further. ]

as I couldn't really leave the ship [ out of duty, of course ] I might have took a shot at your punching bag.

[ look at him scooting back ]

but it's okay now. since, see, bucky and I collected sand off the beach and then Hermione transfigured more out of stuff from the garden and I patched it up and it's fine now. it's just as it used to be.

[mucked]

[ he scoots; she pulls. peggy doesn't so much as lighten a fraction of her grip on his arm, hauling him bodily back into place the very moment he tries to pull away. it's a futile sort of gesture. if steve wanted free, he'd already be it. ]

A shot. [ she breathes in. goddammit, he hit her bag and he split the damn thing. didn't he? this is precisely what she'd been worried about and why she'd cautioned him away from doing anything with it. ] You couldn't leave the ship? Oh, don't you dare blame this on my coma.

[ she gave him, like, two rules. and he's managed to break both of them. ]