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Date: 2016-12-31 12:27 am (UTC)
mucked: (☂ wake up bleary-eyed and sore)
From: [personal profile] mucked
[ she's a little late? oh, don't even get her started. but-- ]

Lehigh? Really? [ a cluck of her tongue. truth be told, she hadn't quite thought it had catalyzed quite so soon. she'd had her eye on him from the outset, certainly, but it had been her assignment to review and observe the candidates. had peggy been pressed to identify when she might've thought steve's feelings for her started? her answer would be the back of the ssr transport car.

to be surprised -- this far in -- invites a flutter into her stomach. ]
I'm not certain what that says about you.

[ let alone her. ]

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Date: 2016-12-31 12:34 am (UTC)
mucked: (☂ we saw you lying in the road)
From: [personal profile] mucked
There are more of us than you know. [ dry-like. she refuses to think there's anything special about her willingness to punch stupidity its guffawing mouth. ] Just follow the trail of Howard's dalliances. Plenty of those girls have strong hitting arms.

[ which, in the end, only proves that howard quite possibly suffers from the same masochistic affliction as poor steve rogers. ]

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Date: 2016-12-31 12:48 am (UTC)
mucked: (☂ you got a fast car)
From: [personal profile] mucked
Smart man. [ ... ] Smarter, still, if you surrendered here and now.

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Date: 2016-12-31 01:09 am (UTC)
mucked: (☂ to steal the jewels)
From: [personal profile] mucked
[ she smiles. almost shyly. it's as if the anticipation of their sparring match is considerably deepened by his refusal to back down -- however playfully suggested. peggy jams a thumb against the button that opens the shuttle bay doors. they part with a soft hiss. ]

Good. I think I would have been sorely disappointed if you had -- smart move or not.

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Date: 2016-12-31 01:26 am (UTC)
mucked: (☂ etherized upon a table)
From: [personal profile] mucked
I have no issues with fighting 'dirty' -- [ if only because she expects he'll not bring himself to get too underhanded in his tactics. in theory, he'd never have to. the only dispensation she might ask for is that he not knock her out cold. but she suspects he won't do that, either. ]

But I will say I'd rather not spend the next few weeks bedridden once again.

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Date: 2016-12-31 01:40 am (UTC)
mucked: (☂ deep asleep)
From: [personal profile] mucked
[ she begins by rolling up her sleeves. she's in trousers, today, instead of a skirt; that'll help. ]

I should have worn my lipstick, [ she teases. ] Could have cinched my victory back beneath the mistletoe.

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Date: 2016-12-31 01:58 am (UTC)
mucked: (☂ you have made)
From: [personal profile] mucked
Next time? [ she rolls her shoulders. by all accounts, she's utterly calm. ] Next time, when I apply a coat and then chase you around trying to steal a kiss while you try very hard not to be kissed? Oh. Yes. I'm sure you'll be aces at that. We'd both be so bloody dignified.

[ and then that calm breaks. peggy isn't a fighter with fine techniques like natasha. although such precision isn't outside of her wheelhouse, it simply also isn't her preferred mode. instead, she fights much like he fights. hard, gutter-worthy motions. the first punch thrown is to his gut while she tries to wrap her off-arm around his elbow. it's a bit of a throw-away tactic; she needs to feel his strength, first, and judge it for herself. ]

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Date: 2016-12-31 02:22 am (UTC)
mucked: (☂ a long long time ago)
From: [personal profile] mucked
[ -- a brief grunt (possibly a non-verbal shut up) punctuated her missed punch. peggy yanks hard on his arm, thrusting it back from his side. whatever misgivings he feels about hurting her, she clearly doesn't share them -- but only because she realizes it would take a monumental effort for her to inflict anything he couldn't simply soak.

his foot catches her ankle. she wobbles for a moment, but recovers. side-steps, still with her arm locked in his. cliched, perhaps, but she attempts to drive his elbow towards the middle of his back. ]

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Date: 2016-12-31 01:53 pm (UTC)
mucked: (☂ just our hands clasped tight)
From: [personal profile] mucked
[ considering her odds, peggy takes the hit. he shoves back into her sternum and there's a second grunt (exertion; not pain -- not precisely). paradoxically, her sigh is a happy one. she feels good about being challenged. feels even better about tightening her grip on his elbow. she's a bit winded, granted, but she's scrappy.

peggy shoves a foot between his calves and tries to snag his ankle. he tried to topple her backwards; she tries to topple him forwards. ]

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Date: 2016-12-31 02:31 pm (UTC)
mucked: (☂ oh no not me)
From: [personal profile] mucked
[ he easily gets his arm around her. a little too easily, maybe, though she counts on him assuming that it's always easy when trying to snag his arms around someone without superpowers. facing away from him -- pulled hard against his front -- she fills her lungs with air. ]

No? What's expected, then, of most people's girlfriends on a Christmas morning? [ sharp. sardonic, certainly. and a little suggestive, perhaps, as she quickly pivots at her waist and tries to toss him over her shoulder -- let his own weight throw him down, so to speak. ]

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Date: 2016-12-31 02:50 pm (UTC)
mucked: (☂ we saw you lying in the road)
From: [personal profile] mucked
[ she straightens -- lighter on her feet, now, than she is when merely striding through the starstruck's halls. for now, they're only testing each other's boundaries. he's been grappling and shoving and wrapping his arms around her but he hasn't been hitting. not really.

peggy comes at him again. right hook swinging. ]
The mistletoe's merely an excuse.

[ suggesting -- with a half-smile as she throws her punch -- that he's welcome to kiss her without it at any time. ]

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Date: 2016-12-31 03:38 pm (UTC)
mucked: (☂ fighting the jury in my head)
From: [personal profile] mucked
[ she drops her shoulder -- his punch catches her high. not so squarely in the joint, perhaps, but it still hurts like hell. a pained huff, but she's still on her feet. peggy uses the lingering momentum of forward movement to shove herself bodily against his chest. like a footballer, charging forward for the tackle.

all her tactics suggest one thing: she wants him on the ground. clearly, she suspects she'll have some advantage there that isn't afforded to her as long as steve still has his feet. ]

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