3186/What They've Done with the Place

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What They've Done with the Place
Date of Scene: 31 August 2020
Location: Swordfish Bar (SHIELD)
Synopsis: Phil and Peggy meet at an old, favourite place. They manage introductions before commiserating over the weight of command, and what SHIELD has become. At least the beer is good.
Cast of Characters: Phil Coulson, Peggy Carter




Phil Coulson has posed:
Late afternoon and the Swordfish Bar is relatively quiet, with some people present. Having had to do an errand in town, Phil Coulson is now seated at the bar, reading through a few things. Knowing him, it's probably job related, not some light entertainment. There's a beer in front of him, which he once in a while takes a sip from, although most of his attention is on his reading, expression thoughtful.

Peggy Carter has posed:
How they managed to hide from her that the old base had been turned into a *bar*? Who knows. Probably the fact it simply didn't come up until she asked about giving it as a contact to someone. So, bereft of field work until her arm is free of that pesky sling, Peggy Carter decides to go check out an old haunt. Password given, there's no issue getting in, but she's walking slow through the little foyer area, staring at brickwork and some old photos on the wall. A few of which she's in. She pauses for just a moment at a picture of Howard, then shakes off whatever thought she had, her steps a bit more focused as she makes her way into the bar area.

She looks exactly like her old self. Today is a deep burgundy dress of a more 1940s cut but some modern material. The boat neck is wide enough to reveal the fading purples and greens of that bruising around her shoulder and her right arm is in a soft, dark blue sling. Black, squat-heeled pumps click quietly on the floor as she crosses further into the room, murmuring more to herself than anyone, "...What have they *done* with this place." But then she's settling in at the bar, giving an idle nod to the field director she's yet to meet. "...Least they can do is have a proper pint on tap, hopefully?" Even her accent is dead on, all clipped and British business, though she's trying to be lighter, discussing pints.

Phil Coulson has posed:
Hearing the words, Coulson looks up from his reading, offering a bit of a smile. "Hope you like what they did with it," he offers, before he shrugs a bit at the part about the pints. "Of course, that would depend on what a person thinks is a proper pint," he replies, rather lightly.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Whatneys or Smithwick, but I'll settle for a Bass..." Peggy admits flatly, giving the bartender hopeful eyes. Bass it is. "It'll do." She then turns to study her bar-companion a bit closer, not having properly met him but the face was familiar enough she's certain she's seen him in a file somewhere. It kicks in a heartbeat later. "...Director Coulson. Ah. I wondered when I might finally have the pleasure." Now that she's realized who he is, he's far more intriguing than the beer or what they've done with the place. "As for the old base... I can't say it's what I'd have done but... It's good to have a place to go. I guess I'm glad they didn't sell it."

Phil Coulson has posed:
Smiling as he takes a sip from his own beer, Coulson puts away his reading for now. Nodding at the last of the words spoken. "It's very good to have a place to go, especially one such as this." After a few moments, he gestures to the paperwork. "Those things have kept me busy for a while, I fear," he adds.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...it's alright. The entire agency shouldn't revolve around a single director alone. Lessons... we all learned previously. I hope you managed something... Enjoyable... Despite all that?" Peg motions to the papers, even though her dark eyes linger just a bit too long on them. Old habits of an old spy, not going to just let information she could possibly glean lay fallow.

Phil Coulson has posed:
Phil Coulson nods a bit thoughtfully as he hears that. "They say that wisdom is learning from such lessons," he offers, before he glances to the papers again, nodding. "Aside from having some other things I needed to take care of, that's one of the reasons I'm here now. It was a much needed change of scenery." A brief grin, "And, of course, if I didn't show myself here, someone might think I would have been buried by the paperwork, right?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
The brunette's smile softens a bit more, something heavy weight of understanding behind those eyes. She's been in his position before, probably a dozen times over. She knows that look. She knows that exhaustion, and sometimes the need to just get out. Finally, she shifts her body weight enough she's fully facing him so she can offer her left hand, though it's a bit awkward for the shake. "I'm certain this is unnecessary. You've read my file, I've read yours... But it's still polite. Margaret Carter. Forgive the off hand. Steve is practicing his best disappointed pup look when I don't wear the thing."

Phil Coulson has posed:
Phil Coulson doesn't seem to worry much about the awkwardness of the off-handed handshake, as he shakes the hand. "Phil Coulson," he introduces himself, for the sake of the politeness. "Don't worry about the off hand shake." There's a brief pause as he hears that last part. "Disappointed pup look? Is that like the 'you're in trouble' look?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
Turning back to her beer after the brief shake, Peggy's ever matte-red painted lips poise into just a bit of an amused smirk. "As close as he gets with me. Normally, I'm the one giving the 'You're in trouble' look. He and Barnes together again, I can't believe they haven't gotten into *more* messes. I suppose the world has gotten a bit wider and the bombs less... Personal." That is to say, a bomb kills several thousand, not just a few dozen, and they are dropped by planes. She takes a long sip of her pint at that thought.

Phil Coulson has posed:
Phil Coulson nods again as he listens, while taking a sip from his own beer. "Ah. Hope you don't have to give him that look too often," he offers, before he adds, "Less personal in one way, but on the other hand, some of the intentions behind the bombs seem to be rather personal at times."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Silence hangs in the air for a few heartbeats, Peggy's eyes staring mainly ahead, lost in some other time. Other thoughts. Her good hand remains around her beer, nursing the dark ale as the pad of her thumb draws errant lines in the condensation on the glass. If there was any doubt previously that the is the actual Peggy Carter, that look alone would do much to remove it. It makes her look decades older than her dark hair and relatively unlined features. It's the weight of someone who has considered murdering thousands, and just how personal those things can be. "...Yes. You're... not wrong in that. Though they should always be personal. Now more than ever."

Phil Coulson has posed:
Phil Coulson stays silent as well, taking the time to take another sip of his beer. There's a slow nod at her words, although he doesn't say anything for now.

Peggy Carter has posed:
After a handful of time which is a strangely almost companionable silence, either Director-emeritus nor current field director the sort to fill the space with unnecessary words, Peggy takes a deeper drink of her beer. Then she tilts her eyes slightly at him, not boring down on him with her gaze, but something a bit more, almost gentle. "...Do you think we managed it. SHIELD? What... we hoped it'd be, all those years ago?"

Phil Coulson has posed:
That question makes Coulson look a bit thoughtful. "I think so," he replies after a few moments. "Including the strength of being able to change and adapt to how the world has been changing." There's a thoughtful sip of his beer, before he adds, "What do you think?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg sets her beer down quietly, studying his face in that slightly unnerving way profilers have, but her expression remains more thoughtful. It was a good question, reasons she asked it. She didn't expect it back. "...I... Hope so. Only been thawed out myself what...Three months now? The higher ups still don't entirely trust that it's me and I don't blame them. So...back to field work I go. But...what SHIELD has become? I can't entirely say. I can just hope. And keep doing the good work."

Phil Coulson has posed:
"I don't think I could ever understand how it is must feel, that thawing out," Coulson replies, excpression a bit thoughtful. "Must feel like coming to a new world, in some ways." There's a smile offered at the last part. "That's all a person can do, keeping on hoping and doing the good work," he offers.

Peggy Carter has posed:
That answer gets another smile from her, almost all the way to her eyes. Peggy stretches her beer over to his and clinks the glass gently, "Here's to that. A bit easier when you're in the field, I'll say. Much more simple to know who the enemies are when they're staring down a gun at you. I...can't say that I envy any of you in command, nowadays. But you've got my support, at least."

Phil Coulson has posed:
"That's good," Coulson replies, before he adds, "That it's a bit easier when you're in the field, that is." A brief pause, before he smiles, "Having your support means quite a bit," he offers.

Peggy Carter has posed:
That makes her give a little snerk of a laugh, some skepticism behind her clipped voice. "Mm...I'm not quite certain of higher up agrees, but...I'll take your word for it. I suspect I'm a thorn in the side that would be far easier to just make disappear. People don't like when their pasts come to haunt them." Peggy states thoughtfully, mulling over his reaction as she watches him across the rim of her beer.

Phil Coulson has posed:
Phil Coulson considers those words a bit thoughtfully, before he nods slowly. "That is probably very true," he offers. There's another pause, before he adds, "I suppose it's one of those 'work hard to prove them wrong' situation?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
When he affirms her suspicions, Peg arches a single, just slightly surprised brow. It's interesting alone, to see. Him not perfectly toeing the line. Finally, though, she just chuckles to herself and finishes off her beer. A ten is slide across the bar from her purse, for the beer and some generous tip. Ways you can tell she's old fashioned -- she still uses cash. Or maybe it's the habit of a spy. Nothing to trace. "Director Coulson... I think the summation of my entire career could very neatly be 'Work hard to prove them wrong.'"

Phil Coulson has posed:
But was it an affirmation of how the higher up feels, or the more general part about people not liking it when their pasts come to haunt them? Who knows. Draining the last of his own beer, Coulson smiles as he nods again. "Which I think you have succeeded with time and again. While that statement surely would be a part of the summation, I'm quite certain it would include much more than just that particular statement." Another smile is offered.

Peggy Carter has posed:
With that, Peggy stands, her smile coming a bit more gentle towards him, "Now you're just flattering me, Director Coulson. But it does an old lady's heart good. Anyway... I should report back in eventually. I'm sure there's a bit of paperwork somewhere that needs doing. I...look forward to working with you in the future." And with that, she gives him a little, sharp salute, and turns smartly on the ball of her foot to move back to those old, familiar doors and back into the brightness of modern Manhattan.