ɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ

[uprightness]

STEVE ROGERS;

video | text | voice | action

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[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. ]

[uprightness]

I never said - I'm not blaming it on - I'm blaming it on the damned Atroma. I wasn't going to leave for any reason especially not -

[ that. but this is a much too heated debate on account of one punching bag. ]

I told you, it's fixed. we fixed it. it's just fine.

[mucked]

Once it's split, it's split. [ she shakes her head. ] That's a point of vulnerability now, no matter what sort of patch job you managed.

[uprightness]

Yes, I suppose it must be. If you go ahead and hit it right there repeatedly for a long period of time it might yet tear again.

[ now he feel the need to pace, if only to keep from anymore dry sarcasm. he rises, goes back to his drawer, busies himself with sorting notepads and pencils. ]

[mucked]

Oh, good, well at least if it tears again I've got a replacement what can be hit repeatedly for another long period once it's wrecked.

[ did she just threaten to punch captain america? damn straight she did. and without a wince or a note of hesitation. you're the replacement, steve. you are. ]

[uprightness]

Well, if it makes you feel better, you could go ahead and give it your best shot whenever you feel the urge.

[ is he line-facing her? he absolutely is. ]

[mucked]

Don't tempt me.

[ or do. who knows, it might be exactly what she needs. ]

[uprightness]

Go ahead. Just mind your fingers. you don't really ever take on that thing with gloves.

[ and unlike her punching bag, hitting him might break her knuckles. ]

[mucked]

Alright. [ she squares up and sets the tea aside. will she ever manage to finish it? likely not. she's got a better mission in mind, now. ] Get over here. Stand up straight and tall like I know you can.

[ -- she slips into a demanding, commanding tone of voice without so much as thinking about it. ]

[uprightness]

You can't get up and walk over to punch me? really?

[ it almost makes him smile but if it'll get her to forgive him for tearing her punching bag, he'll put down the pencils and walk over. ]

alright, go ahead. do your worst.

[mucked]

My worst?

[ her fists do come up -- boxing-style, as brawling and gutter-appropriate as ever. the scene is ridiculous, frankly. she's still in her pajamas; her hair is a mess.

but no hit is thrown. not yet. ]

[uprightness]

your worst, yeah.

[ he affirms. heaven help, he just stands there and gestures at her to go on with it. ]

go ahead.

[mucked]

Belly, face, it's all on the table?

[ -- is she hesitating? maybe. truth it, it's simply not the same if the shot is free and he's offering up with no real opposition in play. she likes to tussle with him not at him. ]