5335/Beer O'Clock

Beer O'Clock
Date of Scene:	24 February 2021
Location:	Brooklyn Safe House
Synopsis:	Peggy catches up Hunter on the plans for hunting Hydra and discuss other things as well.
Cast of Characters:	Lance Hunter, Peggy Carter

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Lance Hunter has posed:
The business Hunter had been called away on was detaining Davis' doppleganger, which turned into a chase across New York that kept Hunter busy until three in the morning. Heading back to his place for some much needed rest, he fires off a text to Peggy before heading to bed:: Hunter >> Raincheck on beer, same spot tomorrow?

The next day after dark Hunter appears at the safe house as planned knocking twice then stepping through the door. "It's just me, hoping some of that beer survived Yo-Yo and May."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A text came back uncomfortably quick for the late hour 'You got it. Home by 8 pm.' And, sure enough, Peggy is fairly fresh walked into the safehouse barely a few minutes earlier. She's still in her work clothes -- that is, a wide collared plaid jacket and matching wide legged pants which look more at home in the 40s than nowadays, but everything old is new again. She looks up sharply at the knock, still a touch paranoid, but then she sees the younger man's face.

"Some of us don't make beer a second meal so...Yes. There's plenty left over. And even a bottle of Smithwicks if you're missing home. Have you eaten?" Peggy asks, as she bustles into the kitchen to claim some left overs from the fridge and, of course, the beer.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Somehow that Peggy would be up that late doesn't surprise Hunter in the slightest, he fires back before turning in: >> Will be there. Also there's this thing called sleep I think you might want to try it sometime, Then he's off, for once taking his own advice.

The next day at the safehouse Hunter is there pretty much in the clothes he was wearing the day before, clearly Bobbi being on an extended mission means he's more comfortable letting his inner slob out. "I'd love a Smithwicks, and I could murder some of that Chinese if you have it about," he says surveying Peggy's spartan surroundings. "Add a bit of Liverpool FC gear and we could have the same decorator, he remarks.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The comment about the decorator gets him a good smirk, "Oh, sod off... You know a lady needs to properly cheer for Manchester United. I prefer to back winners, anyway." She tosses him a grin through the kitchen archway. "Besides, this place isn't...exactly mine. An old friend owns it and we've both been swapping out safe house use until it needs burned. Probably not much longer, considering matters... So, no reason to decorate."

She's about as good a cook as one would expect, which means she's popping a few of the chinese take out containers into the microwave so she can serve him a dinner that is pretending to be hot, at least. She pulls out two of the Smithwicks, popping the tops off before handing him one casually. "Everything go alright last evening?"

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter laughs, "So, it's worse than you let on then, not HYDRA just a Man U fan," he says. "And since when is it winning if you have to buy your way there!" he grouses before giving a nod to the situation. "Handy," he says of the trade before taking the beer with a "Cheers," and a salute with the bottle before taking a swing. "Yeah, Davis' doppleganger showed up, had to chase him around the city before we caught up to him, bloody mess all around, which reminds me, me and Bobs' are still around too, they go by Babs and Lancelot if you can believe it..." he says with a smirk. "Proof positive they're evil."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A little huff of the sort that says she is NOT dignifying his football feelings with a response comes, but that is that. She leans one hip in the archway of the kitchen, waiting for the microwave to scream as she watches him in the room. Peggy still doesn't know Lance all that well, other than his file. She's building the profile in her head, his physical habits, nervous tells, even any old injuries he favors. It's all a little puzzle piece of who Lance Hunter is and she only has half the picture.

"Lancelot and...Babs? Oh god. Yeah. It might sound cruel, but we probably should put them out of their misery." Her nose wrinkles, not thrilled to hear there are more out there, but she files it away for future headaches. "We didn't get.. a wide amount last night. Narrowed down the possible list of who in SHIELD is giving QuinJet plans to Vogel and HYDRA, but none have come up on the data cross referencing yet."

Lance Hunter has posed:
Laughing again Hunter seems to take that huff as a victory for Liverpool as he drinks his beer seemingly unaware of being watched for the moment or wanting it to appear that way. As he moves to the window to take a look outside, it;s clear by how he walks his jump from the moving car hadn't healed up fully yet, same for his shoulder which he rolls a little tentatively now and then. But the biggest sign that's there to see is he's a bit of a fidgeter, as he fiddles with his bottle and anything else in reach before, drilling in the army must have been hell. He smiles into his beer about the names. "Right? Shame though, seemed alright before they broke my nose and tried to kill my favourite barman," he says with a shake of his head.

Before getting back to the business at hand. "That's got to be quite a list," he says about the plans. "Glad to hear I didn't miss any fun though." It's an easy guess the down and dirty of investigation is probably not where Hunter shines as an agent. "So what's the next step?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
Those little details, especially the fidgeting, are noted and filed away for later. Just as she's about to say something, the microwave goes and she straightens a bit. "Dinner's on." She teases. At least in her old age she's maintained a sense of humor, even if there is a hard, distanced edge to it all. She puts on a good show of being warm and relaxed on the surface, but lets little else crack through.

She goes to scoop up the left over General Tso's, chow mein, and fried rice from last evening, carrying them all out on a tray with some chopsticks and utensils. This is not a fancy dinner, but they'd make do. Once settled back into the room, she's right back to work. "We found a strange calendar invite from him for a meeting in a few days in Vatican City. All it said was 'Paraguay Hardening MIll'...which is less than comforting a meeting title. So a few of us are going to sneak off to Italy and see what we can get through survellience."

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter smiles at the joke and makes his way over to the kitchen, "Lend a hand?" he asks, setting down his beer. It seems a genuine offer which tracks with what the man's shown so far, fairly open, even if there's the occasional glimmer of shrewdness in his eyes, or care to how he moves that speaks of there being more to Hunter than just SHIELD's own blabbermouth. "Paraguay Hardening Mill?" he repeats with a frown. "As a meeting? Sure HYDRA's not getting into knock-off Viagra to fuel their schemes?" he asks with a bit of a smirk, before getting a bit more serious. "Yeah, rather unpleasant name for a meeting though," he says. "I've got friends in the Italian police I could run the name by but I'm guessing we don't want to tip our hand about knowing anything about it."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I mean, if you can get any and every bit of dirt on Vogel and his company possible, that'd be helpful. Right now, the only bit I have is that he's selling to HYDRA, but that doesn't mean he really knows who they are or what they are doing. I... feel like he does. This all feels...off. I trust my instincts. But I need more than a few receipts and an old spy's instincts, you know?" Peggy asks. She nods for him to get down some plates if he doesn't want to be eating right out of containers, but that's the only help she takes. She's clearly a woman who is just used to managing everything firmly on her own, dinner dishes included.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter gets down the plates with a nod and considers the rest leaning against the counter as he does. "I can definitely ask around about Vogel in Italy and back home," he says. "The lads at Legoland, " then nickname for MI6 HQ in the new millennium with it's modern blocky design. "Keep a close eye on people selling military tech, especially if it's better than what we;ve got back home," he says, which definitely applied to the quinjets. "Got a few blackmarket contacts too but they're definitely HYDRA so game to give them a ring but only if you think it won't tip off Vogel."

Peggy Carter has posed:
When she hears that he has black market contacts, Peggy gives him a double look, that momentary wariness coming back but whatever she sees seems to reassure her weekend read on him was accurate. She gives a slow breath out and a small nod. "We'll...hold onto those aces for the moment. They might be worth it down the line but... no reason to tip our hand yet."

Peggy then settles in across from him, scooping up a bit of fried rice and chicken onto whatever plate he's pulled down. She doesn't love eating, but she does it with the military efficency of someone who knows this is necessary to surviving life. An annoying necessity.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Raising his hands at the double look, he says, "Easy there, part of the job isn't it, the guy in question used to work for my old outfit, corrupt bunch of buggers they were, kept in touch after he decided to start Hailing HYDRA, know your enemy and all that, plus the man absolutely cannot hold his liquor, a few pints and a few shots he's happy to tell you what..." he frowns as he comes up dry on a name. "Whoever's running HYDRA these days had for breakfast."

Hunter doles his own food out with the flipside of the soldier's approach, with the enthusiasm of a man who knows his odds are decent that he'll retire in a coffin, piling his plate high and digging in with gusto.

After his first couple of bites have been swallowed he says, "Anyhow, I'll hold off reaching out to my mate then, and I suppose pack to go Italy?" he ventures.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peggy is watching him more than her dinner, especially as he gives the explanation as to how he's managed to keep friends with someone in the enemy's organization. She doesn't seem completely put off, but there's just a wariness of a woman who lives her life cloaked in paranoia more than nearly anything else. She finally takes a slow bite of her chicken, half sinking into the couch without ever really letting her spine relax.

"I'm going separate. Taking a few days off. I've got decades of unused vacation days, figured I'd take some as the weather is breaking, you know. I think May and Rodgriguez are going on a separate mission to Rome... you can either figure a good excuse aboard with them, or make your own way over. The last thing we want is SHIELD realizing half a dozen agents are going to Vatican City for whatever this is. We'll save your... Mate... as a last resort."

Lance Hunter has posed:
If Hunter notes the watchful look he doesn't show it, blissfully stuffing his face nodding at their travel plans as he digs out his phone and checks something on the net. "Think I'll take my own way there, thinking May might not appreciate twelve hours in a Quinjet with me.," he says. "Looks like there's a game in Naples worth checking out, I'll make my way over and set up my return flight for out of Rome, Brit goes to Europe to watch football is hardly going to ping the company radar."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A little laugh escapes her lips at the thought, "No, I suppose not. Especially if you are actually a football fan. But hell, who has the time?" But then, Peggy probably hasn't lived anywhere near Europe in over half a century. She just doesn't *get* it. Though, her response is more so one of a woman who has lost the time or care for any hobbies. She live, breathes, eats, and loses herself in SHIELD and nothing but SHIELD. Which probably means this HYDRA mess is cutting deep, whether she shows it or not. Instead, she just takes a longer gulp of her beer.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"To the bone," Hunter says of being a fan. "The trick is to make time, but that's easier to say when you're a level four with very few responsibilities and a girlfriend away on mission and not a level 6 who's trying to save SHIELD in her spare time," he observes wryly. "Bobs would never forgive me if I didn't ask how you're carrying all that, been in an organization that got eaten from the inside like this before, it's not a wonderful time and I barely cared, can't imagine what all this must be like for you."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The comment about how she's carrying all of it gets silence for a few moments. Peggy's shoulders remain just a bit stiff, but she stares at him over her beer, keeping that shield of emotions ever so carefully in place. She finally gives him the slightest shoulder shrug, letting a breath through her nose as she sets down her beer and changes it out for a bit more food. "It is what it is. I have a job to do and I will do it. That's all that matters."

Lance Hunter has posed:
That icy reserve is familiar, after all he came up in the British army, this is not the first time he's brushed against it. "Understood ma'am," he says falling into those old habits. "But if I can make a suggestion, try to find a little time for something else, clears the head. Bobs gets that way too, totally focused on the job, blinders firmly in place, it's not until she breaks away for awhile, even a few minutes that she starts making progress on whatever she's working on again. Probably helps with the sanity as well, but hard to tell with Bobs these days," he says with a bit of a smirk to show he's /mostly/ joking about that part.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A slightly bittersweet smirk crosses her lips and dark eyes flicker down, away from him. "Taking some time off is probably how they got into SHIELD in the first place, far too many years ago. Besides. I have some... casual pursuits, when I really need. It's enough." The tone of casual pursuits is edging on the same way the boys at the bar talk about one night stands, she's just trying to be a bit more proper about it. No one else needs to know about her unwise decisions in the bedroom area.

She clears her throat quietly, shaking off the thoughts, "Right now, SHIELD needs me here... *and* to be a full time senior agent on official missions. It is rather a full time job."

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter's brow raises almost to his hairline with that revelations about casual pursuits, impressive with how short he keeps his hair. "Well that's one way to blow off some steam," he allows, before his curiosity gets the better of him. "Anyone I know?" he asks before raising his hand and saying, "Forget I asked."

Though the raised brow and the smirk that goes with it never fully vanishes even as he gets back to the topic at hand. "So you're not entirely without a hobby, good to know, as long as you're taking time for yourself it's a good thing, if you ask me," he says still painfully curious because holy hell how much does he want to be able to tell Bobs about this when she gets back! He does however change the subject, "Must be a thing with your generation and making time for things, Cap was having the same issues last time I talked to him." Which was also the first time if he's being entirely honest.]

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg looks just on the edge of saying something but then she catches herself. It is a far wiser thing to just keep her lips sealed about, even if there is the most faint heat to her cheeks that wasn't there before. Whatever the answer is, it's probably more than a bit of a scandal. She clears her throat instead, food entirely settled aside so she can lean over and open a second beer. This is definitely a two beer conversation now.

"Steve has... a bit more of an excuse. When he disappeared, we were still in the thick of the war. At that point you really don't have a life outside of it all. Sleeping on convoys, sharing the last damn cigarette in the pack for a day and a half straight... Two weeks out in Russia not even certain if you're anywhere near the border. There isn't really life outside of war. Not...that kind of war. Things have changed now but..." Peggy shrugs slightly with her beer. "We started SHIELD. HYDRA never disappeared. The war didn't really end... "

Lance Hunter has posed:
The sainted mother of SHIELD is actually blushing about the guy she's hooking up with, or well person, whatever era she's from it's still 2021.Hunter downs his beer and goes for a second himself. "Painfully curious but I'm just going to keep my mouth shut for a change," he tells her before chuckling and shaking his head.

"Makes sense," Hunter says of Steve. "I mean even with the two or three little wars we're involved in back home when I served, it's one thing after another, before too long you're wondering where the time went," he says. "The details get lost along the way unless you make time for them. But that was just a few years, both of you have been fighting this war since forever," he says with a look of sympathy and an earnest salute with his beer, one soldier to another.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Pretty much. It's...of no matter. I keep fighting them in hopes that others will not need to. For now? It's fought with pouring through enough of those files to find the needle in the haystack." Peggy nods towards the stack of yellowing old files, and then the three other unmarked tablets and the laptop, nothing hooked to the internet which makes old fashion data analysis entirely more of a pain, but far less likely for them to be discovered.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter looks over the files and lets out a low whistle, "Bloody hell, I think I like the idea of fighting HYDRA with guns better than that mess," he says. "So, from all the research you've done, how screwed are we really? How many do we think are double agents or is the problem we don't know."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A long gulp of her beer is taken and then she pulls one of the tablets into her lap to start with the slightly quicker, but still heavy, data analysis she was doing before. A sigh escapes her lips at the question. "The honest problem is we don't know. There's probably at least...one person high up enough at SHIELD to have access to classified QuinJet plans that knows what they are doing -- either loyal to HYDRA or being blackmailed by them because they've got innocent family or loved ones at risk. If there are lower level people loyal to HYDRA... I hope not. I could be wrong. But we simply don't know how deep or long it goes right now other than it *is* deep and that means..." Peggy motions to the coffe table with a smirk, "All this happens off site. Away from SHIELD phones and bugs... juggled around our regular duties."

Lance Hunter has posed:
"Pretend I didn't pay too much attention to the classes at the Academy not about shooting, punching or seducing marks and tell me again what level they'd have to be to get those plans?" he asks trying to get a scope on the number of candidates they're dealing with. "And makes sense the right agents in the right spots and they can do a lot of damage even if the agents aren't high up the chain," he says taking another long pull of his beer. "As for the extra work you've got for yourself here, I'm pretty good if you need a lead run down or a trigger pulled. But you need some brains to help on this side too, I know best way to keep a thing secret is to limit the circle, but like with the other team, us having the right people in the right spots makes all the difference too. Already suggested Bobbi, but going to toss out Fitz's name too. I know, he doesn't look like the sort we need, but trust me he's got balls and brains to spare, you should have seen him when we were undercover."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A slight shrug comes in turn as Peggy considers exactly what level might have those. She's generally been too high to even worry about such things but now the fine print seems important details. "Six, probably... Seven would easily have them. So, it's still someone in deep and it's not a thing that just gets leaked." There's edge os anger, genuine anger, behind the tone of Peggy's voice. She hides it as well as any Brit would, general calm and serene compared to the rest of the world, but he might see it as a fellow Brit.

The commentary about help gets a faint tilt of her head, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as Fitz is considered, "And... you can trust him? You're absolutely sure, without one hesitation in your heart, he's one of ours?"

Lance Hunter has posed:
Lance makes a face, "Guess it couldn't be easy like... level 8 , there's enough level six and sevens around to still make it a needle in a haystack," he says, "Bloody hate it when the enemy actually knows what they're doing..."

He does catch that edge to her tone the anger. "We're still going to find the bastards though. Just need to figure out how, shame we can't reliably count on finding things like those plans, otherwise I'd say try the classic feed a bunch of different people different versions of the same thing and see what comes out the other side."

"As for Fitz, there's no hesitation. "Fitz is one of ours, 100," there's no need to say he'd stake his life on it because after all he was by vouching for him.

Peggy Carter has posed:
There is still a moment of wariness from her. After all, she trusted all the original agents she worked with and clearly there was some rot in the core she missed, so how does she trust people she barely knows. "I wish we could figure a better way of...testing people. What May and I did was...effective, but..." She shivers, just faintly, still feeling dirty from it. "I'd rather never do it again if I can help. But short of catching someone truly off guard... or knowing them soul deep, how do we really ever...know?"

She then sighs, knocking back the rest of her second beer before waving it off quietly. "You don't need to hear a paranoid old woman going on about this. I shall figure it out. Get yourself to Italy, keep your burner close, and we'll go from there."

Lance Hunter has posed:
"Good bloody question," Hunter says about loyalty. "Can't argue with your method though, just wish you and may had locked the bloody doors," he says with a bit of a shake of his head and rubbing his shoulder. "But seriously, Fitz and Bobs 100% our people."

He finishes his beer off along with Peg setting it down on the table. "Right," he says standing up. "Thanks for the beer and the food." He grabs the last dumpling off his plate and stuffs it in his mouth swallowing before he says. "See you over there," he says with a nod before he heads on out the door.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I'll... consider reaching out to him quietly, then. We could use the help." With that, Peggy gives him a softer, though still business like smile. She stands to see him to the door, ever polite like that. "Be safe out there, Hunter." She echoes after him, letting him out and pausing a moment to look down the hall, being certain his way is clear, before she shuts the door and secures the locks once more. Alone with her paperwork again.

Lance Hunter has posed:
The smile is returned and he goes with her to the door. "Likewise," he says with a final nod before he's gone down the hallway, already making plans for the trip ahead.