4406/A Bottle of Whiskey Later

A Bottle of Whiskey Later
Date of Scene:	14 December 2020
Location:	Peggy's Apartment, NYC 1948
Synopsis:	May and Carter share a drink in 1948 and adjust to the reality that a thing like a Time Phone exists. And that anything they do now could seriously change the future.
Cast of Characters:	Melinda May, Peggy Carter
Tinyplot:	Times That Bind

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Melinda May has posed:
It's the end of the day after the night before. Given the revelations at the site of the anomaly, thanks to Fitz's wonderful Time Phone, both May and Carter needed a bit of time to process individually. And, then, of course, the day was exceptionally busy. The site remained secure, yes, but more agents were put to work taking more readings for the eggheads back at at the telco building. Just in case.

Given the lack of satellites in this time, however, May didn't expect there to be much in the way of progress. She checked in with SHIELD at 0900, as she said she would. She checked in again at 2100. They're still working on ideas.

Now, she sits by a wide fireplace in the parlour of the estate Howard Stark has given to Peggy for her use. There's an as-yet-unopened bottle of whiskey beside her on a tray with two tumblers. She hasn't broken into it, yet. But as she stares at the fire... she's considering it seriously.

Thinking herself alone, she murmurs softly, "I'm getting too old for this shit."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The day has been *filled*. Peggy felt like she was running around enough she practically did a marathon between coordinating all the different departments, trying to get Howard to look over things, getting several others a few versions of Howard's sensors so they can start looking for other taychon readings, and generally trying to keep the time phone under wraps. She also didn't really well sleep the night before, so she's feeling it.

But the day ended with a much needed shower and only now is she coming out of the back hallway, her hair wrapped up in a soft towel and a warm, lined satin robe across her hourglass frame. She looks over to May then down to the whiskey, a knowing smile crossing her lips. "We are over due that drink. And I'd say we're both getting too old for it but... I feel like I'm setting myself up for failure, there."

Melinda May has posed:
May scoffs audibly. She does the math in her head. "You're what?" she asks, "Twenty-seven? I'm 58, Carter." A smirk crosses her lips. "This might be the one time in my life I get to call you 'kid'." Her brown eyes gleam some at that.

Nevertheless, she leans forward and twists open the bottle, before pouring a couple of fingers worth into each tumbler. Setting the bottle down, she passes one of the glasses over to her young friend. "Here. You're right. We're overdue for that drink." A beat. She regards the other woman seriously. "So. How are you handling this? Me? This is kind of another day at the office, believe it or not... I don't know if it ever got this crazy for you, though, before now."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The much younger woman does a double take as she realizes her compatriot is twice her age. "58? Hell... you look like you could be my sister. I mean, other than the Chinese thing." Peggy smirks, no deception in her tone there. She's definitely shocked at the age of the woman who has been strangely thrown into her work lap.

She then crosses over and settles down into the chair nearest May, reaching over for the glass of whiskey that the woman has poured her and raising it in May's direction for a casual toast. "Well... to aging well." Peggy offers with a single clink of glass and then she takes a deep, savoring sip of the stuff.

The question of how she's taking it makes her smirk rather deeper. She sinks back into her chair, tucking her les up beneath her body. "...I watched them turn a man who weighed not even 100 lbs into Captain America... and have been working at Howard Stark's side for nearly five years now. This should not be a surprise. Hearing my own voice was... Discomforting. But this is a day in the office."

Melinda May has posed:
Perhaps, discovering the youthful-looking May is, in fact, pushing sixty, gives Peggy an excuse to believe it's possible she could make it to 100 and not be as old as that seems. May doesn't bother, at this given moment, to explain the ins and outs of it all. She also swallows the knowledge that Steve Rogers is alive and well in her time. Instead, she raises her glass and joins that toast with a laugh. "Aging well," she echoes. And she smirks again. "Kid." Only then, does she swallow.

Though she's starting to feel her age, tonight.

She let's the silence linger for a few moments before she says thoughtfully, "I don't think it will break the future for me to tell you that weird stuff is SHIELD's bread and butter. But, I know it must be a special kind of weird to hear your own voice from the future. If it makes you feel any better, I can tell you from experience, you and I make one helluva team. And you've got family. We both do. Sure, maybe we're still fighting, but... if you wanted to retire, you'd be retired. Trust me." A beat. "We both would."

A chuckle escapes her lips. "It's still too much fun to terrorize the probies."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Yes, I suppose, retirement does seem like a rather awful word. I think the plan, for all of us, really, has been to retire in a coffin. Just the lifestyle, as morbid as that sounds." But the tone in Peggy's voice is pride about that, not misery. She takes another decent sip of the whiskey and settles into the chair's corner a little deeper, getting tucked in for a long haul of an evening.

"Family?...God. I have a thousand things I'd like to ask and know I can ask none of them. I should not even acknowledge I heard her voice, or that Howard has progeny. We are *not* telling him that..." Peggy shoots Melinda a rather firm look concerning that matter. "The less he knows other than what we are looking for? The better."

Melinda May has posed:
May acknoweldges that with a knowing rise of her brows and a nod. "Nooo," she agrees. "Mustn't feed the beast." As it is, she knows they're both going to go nuts over the time phone. They won't be able to hide that. Nor, likely, the rest of her equipment, unless she really does deep six it before then.

"I wish I could tell you things. I really do. But... I have no doubt, once I'm home again, we'll be able to sit at the Swordfish or McSorely's and have that conversation."

She cants her head some. Her expression turns pensive for a moment before she says directly, "The fact is, though, you did hear it. And that's the only reason I can say this: You'd be doing yourself a great service if you would entrust me with a vial of your blood to take forward with me. I know that must have seemed a strange request, but... think about it, will you?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...my blood? But I'm... no one. I'm nothing, at least, right now. I don't know what I do to cheat the future, but there's nothing special in this blood at this moment. And I've already told them Steve's blood was destroyed in the last mess with Leviathan, so I promise you, I didn't let the SSR get ahold of that nowadays and I'm not letting SHIELD touch it in the future either. So, if this is some... strange scheme to get me accustomed to giving up blood, it won't work."

Peg really does not seem to understandw hy someone could want her blood, nor does she think herself special in any way. She knows she's not enhanced, nor will her blood help any of reality in the future. "...but I do look forward to meeting at the Swordfish. I can't say I go there much now but.. I've heard several agents speak well of it."

Melinda May has posed:
May shakes her head. "No. This has nothing to do with Captain Roger's blood. We don't need his blood." And if they did, they'd just ask him. She doesn't say that. That is not something she's allowed to tell.

It's really hard not to, though.

"This is all about you, and no one else." She squints some at the fire, trying to decide what to say and how to say it. She takes a swallow of her whiskey and exhales. "I don't know all the details," she admits presently. "I do know that when I was still a young agent something happened and they put you into cryostasis as a result. They were trying to save your life. You had developed some sort of genetic anomaly." She grimaces and shrugs. "I'm no egghead. I hit things. That's my job. But I know enough to know that a vial of your blood as it is now -- before whatever it was that happened, happens -- will allow our doctors to fix it. You've had gene therapy already. That's why they woke you up, and why you were so adamant about keeping cryostasis as a last resort for me." Something she appreciates, actually. "It's experience, talking."

"As far as I know, the therapy has worked. It's good. It's holding. But this? A vial of your unaltered blood would make it possible for them to do a complete reset for you. No risk of relapse."

She glances at the young woman who looks so much like the woman she calls friend. There's hardly any difference at all. "Morse might not like it, but I won't force you. I will say, though: I think it's a really good idea."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The young woman listens quietly, a trace of doubt through her eyes through the beginning but, slowly, most of it falls away into a somewhat uncomfortable acceptance. "...I... cannot imagine making the choice to do something like that to myself. I cannot imagine *why* they would do it to me. I'm just another agent. But..." Peggy shakes her head a moment later, "No matter. Giving blood is easy enough and you have proven yourself earnest and capable. If this is some Leviathan plot?" A smirk pulls at her now unpainted lips, "They win. They are too good. I am duped."

Melinda May has posed:
May has to laugh at how the agent gives in. She shakes her head. "I will note," she says in her own defence -- not quite primly, because her eyes are too warm for that, "that you didn't hear yourself protest in the future when Agent Morse brought the idea up. So, we could interpret that as future consent." Just sayin'.

But she seems to relax. Still, she eyes the woman. "Peggy Carter," she says, "you are not now, nor will you ever be, just another agent. I wish I could tell you why. But... just... trust me. You were the woman I wanted to impress more than anyone else, when I first entered SHIELD. And one of the things you taught us is to never waste a life, never kill needlessly, and never leave an agent behind."

A strange pensive sorrow comes into her eyes when she says that last bit. And, perhaps, a glimmer of surprise and personal understanding. "It's a message I took to heart, I guess," she says softly.

With a snirk, she pulls herself away from the visions of Bahrain that dance behind her eyes. "Damn, you're good, Carter. You really do give as good as you get."

Peggy Carter has posed:
There's things Peggy is missing here, she can tell that much. Her head tilts slightly, studying the older woman deeper as she's doing her best to piece together some of the puzzle she knows May can't really describe. Her expression's doubt softens, just a bit, and she takes it all in stride, giving the smallest of nods. "Well... thosea re things I try to make certain everyone I work with knows, no matter the mission. If we can't make those priorities, we don't deserve to be agents." SSR or SHIELD, Peggy hasn't really changed on those things in decades.

"And...I was not trying to *give* anything. Even if you you were listening and heard something you needed to hear. I'm... curious about you. About everything, really. If you want to talk, we have plenty of whiskey and I doubt sleep is coming easily soon. The door is open. I trust you to change the names enough I won't completely muck up the future."

Melinda May has posed:
May shakes her head. "I honestly don't know what I can say and what I can't. You didn't remember any of this when we walked onto the Roxxon site together. Or, at least, you didn't say anything about it, if you did." She finds it hard to believe Peggy wouldn't have tried to stop it from happening, if she'd remembered it.

"For all either of us knows, you may not remember most of this at all, in the future. I don't know. I don't know if it's because I've already completely mucked up the future and we're making fresh memories for you or if it's because you're virtually a centenarian and so you've forgotten more than I'll ever know. Maybe whatever is happening in 2020 will jog your memory then. I just don't know."

It seems to be her favourite phrase of late. She's beginning to hate it.

"It doesn't matter. I'm a SHIELD agent, Carter. I've had to make some hard choices in my career, that's all. We both have. I simply realized you've had more of an influence on some of my decisions than I thought." A beat. "It's not a bad thing."

Even if she hates the name it gave her.

Peggy Carter has posed:
That gives Peggy a few heartbeats of pause before a quiet, warm feeling just settles into her chest. She smiles softer to the woman, not totally able to keep the pride out of her eyes. "Well, whether I remember it or not, or it was actually *my* doing... or not -- because, more likely, it's YOU who did it all. You'd have done that whether I said things or didn't. You're a good agent and a good woman. I didn't change that. But... whether I did or not, I'm honored to serve with you. Both then and now." Peggy still talks more like a soldier these days than she does in the future, but her words are completely honest. It's not a thing she says lightly.

With that, she raises her glass to the other woman and knocks back the whole rest of the whiskey, the happy burn down her throat fully settling her smile into place. "And we will get you home. Even if it is that damned cryofreeze chamber. We... I've got good people. We can put one together with your people's help. I promise. We're getting you back one way or another."

Melinda May has posed:
May liftes her glass and knocks back her own final mouthful. But when she swallows, she says, "Yeah, I hope so. But let's be clear about something, Agent. You actually *need* to survive to make it to 2020. I don't."

Because Peggy has big things to do in the future. For all May knows... this may be her last mission.

"But, sure," she grins. "It's all my fault. I'll take that." Yeah, right. May knows her friend Peggy won't let go of that blame. This youngster? Probably not, either.

They'll doubtlessly argue about it later. At the brownstone. Over a bottle of Haig.

Peggy Carter has posed:
It looks like Peggy is a bit skeptical about the comment of needing to survive to 2020, but she doesn't fight it. "Yes. I am alive then and should remain as such. But you are a member of this team and you need to get back home. So there's no accepting other solutions, period. Dot." Peggy says it in the tone of a woman who is quite accustomed to giving orders that will be followed. She's not going to let an argument pass, even if it might be an impossibility to know. She's not going into a mission accepting death.

"And it's not your fault... That is very much not what I meant and you know it. A Leviathan agent decided to destroy that plant, even if my presence there... Prompted him to do so. That is neither of our faults. It's simply our job to fix it, and we shall."

Melinda May has posed:
May nods to that. "To that end... What can you tell me about HYDRA in this time? My partners have always been better with history than I am. I was attacked by seven HYDRA agents when I left the SSR that first night. I've held some suspicion that Miss Underwood arranged it, but I don't know if Leviathan and HYDRA are in bed together in this era or not. Of if she simply took advantage of an opportunity that presented itself."

She pauses a moment, eyes that bottle, and pours herself another couple of fingers. She sets the bottle down between them. "If Underwood didn't have anything to do with their attack, that means HYDRA knows I'm connected to the anomaly. And I'm *sure* HYDRA will be gunning for it in the future."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"HYDRA have been... quiet, since the war. Our destruction and arrest of many of their highest chain of command were a massive blow to their operation. Of course, they are still present. You cut off one head and they say two more appear. I think they are scrambling to get their heads together, but being in cohort with Leviathan would not surprise me in the least. Especially with Dottie Underwood as a puppet of their's..." That news about HYDRA is making her frown quite deeply. She is surprised by it and none too comfortable to hear. She leans forward with her glass, nodding for May to pour her more.

"As for what I can tell you, our focus is mainly on cleaning up their messes. Recovering 0-8-4s where they are still present. Cleaning up old labs. It has been a... a labor of love, but a labor. They left a lot of loose ends for us and messes when they were destoyed." Ahh, the optimisim of not knowing how badly deep the roots go.

Melinda May has posed:
Not so massive a blow, May suspects. She's seen them disappear after a high profile strike time and time again. Only to resurface months later stronger and fiercer than ever. "Yeah, well... I don't know what sort of 0-8-4's you have these days, but I'm betting that anomaly qualifies as a pretty big one." As, likely, does she. Time displaced woman with advanced arms and armour? Hell, yeah.

"I wouldn't discount them. A seven-man squad is a lot of resources to throw at one woman. And I don't see how they would know who I was or what I could do. Underwood certainly didn't know."

Peggy Carter has posed:
There's several moments of silence from Peggy as she looks down into the glass in her hands. It's still mostly full, but it's like she's contemplating how quickly she can drink it. Or should drink it, at least. She wants to with haste. "...I dislike admitting this, but I did not know there were 7 HYDRA agents left in New York, much less on a functional unit. We have not seem them operating in those numbers since Red Skull was destroyed. It's... not good news."

The discomforted look in Peggy's eyes is one of a woman who is now having to reevaluate all her own intelligence and revise a few plans. Her work load just doubled. "I don't suppose you managed to tie up any of those agents in a basement in Chinatown somewhere?"

Melinda May has posed:
May shakes her head. "No. But I suspect the precinct that covers Chinatown is all over the scene. It was at a warehouse on the outskirts of Chinatown. Dottie killed four of them. I disabled three more. They may still be in custody."

She swallows some of her refilled whiskey. She doesn't intend to get smashed, by any means, but she's not shy about imbibing, tonight. She hasn't actually had a good drink since she got to this time. "If they could field seven, there must be more." Her lips purse. She considers the investigation they were running out of the Brownstone in Brooklyn in 2020. "There are definitely more," she says.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...there are a few HYDRA scientists who have recieved... Pardons... from the US government. They are officially Americans now, working on the space program, among other things. I've put in several stern objections but, as usual, no one is listening. I know I just need to fight it more. Where we see one, there are going to be a dozen in the shadows." Peggy looks like she wants to curse. Or hit things, or maybe just scream and get drunk. She doesn't do any of those things, but the news of those agents has cast a distinctly uncomfortable pale over her features.

She takes another long pull from her whiskey. "...How are you certain they were HYDRA?"

Melinda May has posed:
"Operation Paperclip," May sighs. "Yeah. I know." Her face schools a little more neutrally. She's used to not having to hide things from Peggy. But how badly will she screw things up if she pushes Paperclip now. Or how much could it help? She chuffs out a frustrated breath of air. "Paperclip is what it is. You need to deal with it however you see fit. I can't comment more on it than that."

She considers the question, instead. "But the agents that attacked me? Well... German guns, German accents, German shoes. Bad taste in ties and poor quality suits. A preference for blond, blue-eyed, broadshouldered types, and a focus on the SSR. You can tell me they're Nazis, if you want, and I'll give you the benefit of the doubt but... I'm sorry, Carter. The problem of Hydra isn't going away any time soon."

Hence why SHIELD is still fighting.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...If you know the name, clearly the Project has... a long legacy. Truman's bloody, selfish head up his ass about the whole damn thing. Half the reason I accepted the transfer to the US permanently. Just to keep eyes on these pencilheads." Peggy's just tipsy enough that her British cursing is coming out and her voice almost has a bit of a growl behind it. She really is that pissed about the whole thing, especially now as she realizes that May knows. It's strong enough and goes on long enough to make that much impact in history.

"And yes, those sound much like HYDRA. I'll go to the precinct in the morning and, if we're lucky, they'll still have one in custody we can question. I'd put good money on Dottie found a way to clean up the others before they could talk about anything. Or they've offed themselves by now. Cyanide in the teeth seems very popular with the lingering HYDRA operatives who get caught."

Melinda May has posed:
May's heard the rant before. It doesn't faze her. She rather agrees with it, if the wry pull to her lips is any indication. "Yeah. Cyanide's pretty popular," she admits. "Some of their other methods are a lot less pleasant for all of us."

She nods, however, to Peggy's assessment of Underwood. "If they have police connections at all, too, they may have already been sprung, if they're not dead. A good lawyer, the right connections... I don't know how well developed Hydra's connections are here." She knows what she'd look for in 2020. It would dismay Peggy to know, no doubt.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The younger woman runs one hand down the side of her face, exhaling a deep, quiet sort of groan about it all. She looks ten years older for these few moments, a lot closer to current Peggy, though it will pass. She slumps deeper in the seat behind her and nods, "First thing in the morning... get there before morning shift, probably. Means I should stop with this whiskey and go to bed."

Melinda May has posed:
"You and me, both," May concedes. She looks at the liquid left in her glass and tosses it back. The glass sets back on the tray with a soft thump. "I'd like to come with you, if you don't think I'd be a liability." She's tired of sitting around in offices or at home. Besides... the SSR agents don't quite know what to do about her. Connors avoids her.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The woman is quiet for a few moments, staring at May over the last gulp of things left in her glass. She seems uncertain about taking the woman in, a slow sigh escaping. "...I would like to bring you but... " Then she catches herself, thinking better of it. "It's the chinatown precinct. They are maybe more likely to listen to you, I know they have a few Chinese boys in the force. Anywhere else and... you'd be a liability. But there... Sure, Let's go. Which means sleep, now."

Melinda May has posed:
May nods to that and gives her a grateful smile. It suits her better to be doing something. "Bed now," she agrees. She pulls herself to her feet, straightening. "Thank you, Carter." She moves to gather up the glasses to take them to the kitchen and wash them. It's not like Jarvis lives here, after all. "See you in the morning."

Peggy Carter has posed:
As the woman claims the glasses, her smile softens a bit. "Team player too. Better be careful, if they decide to cryo you, I might steal you for a few missions before playing sleeping beauty." Peggy winks to the woman and then turns to head off down the hall, just enough booze in her blood that sleep might be easier than usual these days.