5677/Morning Suspicions

Morning Suspicions
Date of Scene:	22 March 2021
Location:	Carter-Sousa Home - Long Island
Synopsis:	1951, Peggy wakes up sick and they realize that messing around like teenagers might just have consequences, even to a happily married couple. Or maybe it's poisoining? Who knows with SHIELD!
Cast of Characters:	Peggy Carter, Daniel Sousa

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Peggy Carter has posed:
Since SHIELD started, other than her stint in the hospital, Peggy hasn't taken a single sick day. In fact, she even ends up working most weekends. But it's Friday, she's been feeling somewhat off all week, work is actually a bit slow, and this is the worst she's felt yet. When their morning alarm goes off, instead of her normal trying to prod him awake, she just gives a low groan and rolls over onto her other side, trying to curl away from the ringing. "...oh bugger off..." she groans out to it quietly.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel stirs at the sound of the alarm clock, yawning before he notices a distinct lack of prodding going on. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes Daniel remarks as he blinks against the morning light. "Hey, good morning," he says his voice still rough with sleep. He sits up, shirtless, glancing down at Peggy as she rolls over in bed grumbling at the alarm clock. "You know it doesn't shut up even if you yell at it," he tells her with a wry smile as he leans over to kiss her cheek. "Still feeling sick?" he asks her, after all he'd had a ring side seat to her feeling off all week and pushing herself through it. "Want me to get you something?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
Another unhappy little groan escapes her lips, especially as he quips about it not shutting up even when she yells. Drowsily, and not moving much from her curl on her side in bed, she reaches an unhappy hand over and smacks twice at the alarm before managing to both shut it up and knock it off the bedside table. It was quiet, at least. "...deserved it." She mutters at the thing, still not getting up.

She's not feverish to the touch, but actually maybe a bit cool and clammy. The sort of faint, cool sweat that comes with nausea in the worst of ways. "...what did we *eat* last week? This is awful..." She admits to him quietly, barely moving from the bed otherwise.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"I bet," Daniel says of the justice of the alarm clock's fate, that wry smile still on his lips. That cold clamminess though is hard to miss. "Oof you're not feeling so hot, Peg," he remarks pulling back from the kiss on the cheek. "Nothing out of the ordinary," he says thinking back over what they had. "Just stuff at home," cooked by him, he doesn't add though it is a factor in whether it'd make them sick or not. "Take out from Quons, one night, and a couple sandwiches from the automat the night we had to pull an all nighter at the office," he says smiling faintly at that particular memory. "You didn't let Howard make you eat oysters or something?" he asks, sitting up a bit more now, pushing himself back so he sat resting against the headboard looking down at Peggy with concern. "Want me to call ahead and let Phillips know you're not coming in today?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
When he sits up fully but stays in bed next to her, she rolls over instead and lets her head come to rest against his thigh instead of her pillow. He was warm and he still smelled good -- like home and his familiar musk. Better smelling than the faint echo of the laundry detergent still left on the pillow case, which only added to the nausea this morning. She curls one arm around his leg, settling in there and taking a few slow, even breaths as she considers the week.

"No...no oysters with Howard. There hasn't been time. And maybe it was the automat... We've shared all the same meals, otherwise..." Peggy considers just how bad her beloved automat could betray her. The place has *never* had off food before, that's why they still go there after all this time. She gives another sigh against him, eyes pressing closed. "And no, no...Don't call Phillips. I can get up in... a minute. I should go in."

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel's skepticism was written all over ^his face when it came to Peggy's claims she didn't need to call in sick. "Okay then if you're doing that well get out of bed," he says with a shake of his head. Not that he wanted to let go of him, he rather liked her snuggling to him like that, but if that was the cost of proving his point so be it.

"No clue," he says of the cause. "But if you're not better by tomorrow I'm taking you by medical for them to have a look," he tells her, after all it wasn't like their enemies were above using poison.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I will... I will in five minutes. I promise. We can still make it in before too late. Just need to let the worst of this...pass." Peggy mutters into his lap. She's so rarely this pathetic, or really this clingy, as independent as wives get. But right now the warm comfort of his lap and familiar scent of his skin was about the only thing she wanted, so she let herself indulge a few moments longer.

His comment about sending her to medical tomorrow gets another little groan and a shake of her head in as firm a refusal as she can give in this position. It sends her messy brown curls across her face -- she wasn't even feeling quite well enough last night to pin up her hair as she usually does. "No, god no...if you tell medical they'll just think I'm pregnant and end up killing some poor rabbit..."

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"Technically Peg you're the boss, so there's no too late unless you say so," Daniel teases her gently, "They'll just think we're late because we were up all night working, or doing other thing," he says with a smile. Even so he was definitely worried about her, not pinning her hair, the way she was clinging to him like that, it was all off from Peggy's usual demeanor. "Yep, definitely medical," he decides before she mentions the P word. "Wait, what?" he asks. "You don't think you could be..." he asks finding his heart suddenly in his throat. They'd slipped a couple of times lately, when passion had ovewhelmed common sense in the heat of the moment, but no, it couldn't be that. "I mean yeah, there were those times but we've been good about it all the other times." As if that made a difference, though now, on this side of things he's willing to grab whatever straws he can.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...Daniel, I rather don't think babies much care that you were so good most of the time. Life finds a way." But even as she admits that, her heart in her throat, Peggy's eyes go a little more wide. She's dead quiet for a few heartbeats, the pad of her thumb running along the edge of his boxers on his good leg, contemplating the real possibility and timing of this all.

"Goodness. I... hadn't thought that at first, but that will be the first think they think. And ask. And suspect. Especially with a few....Slips." She then finally tries to push herself up into sitting, so she can look into his eyes and they can maybe time some of this out. But sitting is no better an idea than it was a few moments ago and she sinks almost immediately back down to his lap with a vaguely green look in her expression.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"I know, I know?" he Dainel admits running his hand through his sleep rumpled hair. "It was just a couple of times?" which is exactly what every guy in his unit who knocked up someone overseas had said.... He lets his head thump back against the headboard for a moment, trying to give himself a few moments to gather his thoughts so he could stop thinking like some dumb teenager or horny GI. "They probably will but we should probably get it checked out just in-" then Peggy tries to sit up and Daniel reaches out to try to catch her as she slumps forward looking green around the gills. "Easy Peg, nice and slow," he tells her calmly before asking, "You need me to get you to the trashcan?" Walking her to the bathroom might be beyond the both of them at this moment with her stomach and his leg.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Settling back again, now slightly more against his hip and stomach, she just takes a few shallow breaths and does her best to swallow back that nausea. "Mm...no... It'll pass." She insists. She hopes. "Just moved too fast..." She admits, the edge of her voice raspy soft enough that she's probably on the edge of being convinced that she should take the day off. Pregnant, poisoned, or bad automat sandwich -- no matter what it is, she's not all that functional right now.

Her arm stretches out, wrapping around the opposite side of his waist, so she is properly curled against him now. She's quiet for several heartbeats, just considering this all... How fast things could happen. How much they both did want one in the future. How likely their 'slips' are the right timing. "...when was that night after the movies... two weeks now? Three?"

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel shifts to let her curl morer comfortably beside her, and when she does, he gently draws his fingers gently along her spine, letting her rest and gather herself a little after the bout of nausea. "Alright, let me know if that changes," he tells her softly and with a touch of distraction, his thoughts on the other matter almost entirely.

Her question has him pause a moment his fingers stopping midway up her back, "Two weeks and a few days?" he says. "But there's also that night we closed out the case where that senatorial aide was selling secrets to Leviathan." When their own little celebration at the office got out of hand. "What was that three weeks ago? Four?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Oh hell... I almost forgot about that night." Peggy confesses, still curled up quite firmly against hin but as they trace back over the weeks, this is feeling more and more likely. "...either of those means... I'd probably start feeling matters right... about now. At least, from what I know of the timing of things. It's not a matter I have extensively...studied," She admits, not entirely able to hide the nerves behind her voice. The more real this possiility did seem, the more terrifying it was as well.

"Maybe it's just the automat. Really. We were there very late. They don't always change those sandwiches out..."

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"Yeah, I don't know too much about how all that works either, other than well?you know," Daniel admits spreading his hands at that last bit. There's nerves apparent in his own voice too, for once he seems not to be that pillar of calm that was so often his role in these situations, he seemed just as much lost at sea as Peggy.

His hand moves from Peggy's back to stroke her hair again, "Let's hope," he says, happily throwing the automat under the bus if it meant a hope it wasn't the other thing, at least not yet. "Whatever happens though, we'll figure it out."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The feeling of his hand in her hair helps. It soothes some of that uncomfortable headache that dwells at the base of her skull, accompanying the fact she keeps trying to fight off being sick instead of giving into the nausea and hoping it will pass. She's always been too stubborn. She lets her body melt a bit more against his, half crawling into his chest the way she's curled up there.

She can hear the faintly too-quick beat of his heart and feel the tension through his shoulders even as he's trying to comfort her. "...Are you...alright?" She asks softly, starting to run her fingertips up and down the side of his ribs. She's trying to give some sort of reassuring touch in turn.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel is more than happy to let her curl up against him like that despite his protesting about calling into the office, it was just too comfortable and Peggy looked like she needed it, hell /he/ needed it.

Peggy's question draws him out of his thoughts, his dark eyes glancing down to Peggy while he considers the question. "I'm not sure," he answers honestly. "I want this, you know that, just didn't think it would be this soon that's all, it's taking some time to wrap my head around it." He does lean into that touch though, taking comfort from it and his fingers return to her hair stroking and toying with it in turn.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A tired laugh escapes her lips as she considers those words, but Peggy turns her head and presses a quiet, reassuring kiss to his sternum before she returns her clammy cheek to resting there. "...I don't know that it'd be any less... terrifying, if this happened five months or five years from now. It's... poor timing, yes. SHIELD still needs us too much. But we said the same thing about the wedding, right? When are we ever going to find the time for these things short of just making it?"

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel finds himself laughing too despite his fears, or maybe just to release them. "Yeah, you're not wrong," he says of the whole thing not getting any less terrifying the more time passes. "Guess we just have to embrace it and figure out things as we go," he says before adding with a wry smile. "I mean it's worked for our cases, right?"

His voice still contains threads of uncertainty in it, "We'll figure out how to manage at SHIELD, take it step by step and off-load any work we can't do ourselves to the people we trust, we built a good team, we should take advantage of it."

Peggy Carter has posed:
While Peggy is trying to relax into the idea and she does talk a good game, she's still a somewhat stuck in the fear of it all as well. And she can hear the uncertainty in his voice. She doesn't say anything for a few heartbeats, tightening her arm against his waist. Especially as another wave of that nausea finally hits. Moving isn't the wisest idea either.

"...Oh hell." She finally groans and then she's launching herself off of him, over the opposite side of the bed to grab at the trash can beneath her desk. She just makes it and it's not pretty. His insistence that she take the day off might be gaining traction with every passing moment. "...this had better *not* be the case. I'm not doing this for *months*. I can't." She breathes out over the trash can.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel for his part is just trying to focus on what he can manage, how to deal with SHIELD while Peggy is dealing with pregnancy, anything but the idea that they would be responsible for shaping an entire human being.

Daniel's quick to respond when Peggy throws herself towards the garbage can to vomit, he moves with her trying to keep her hair out of the way as he strokes her back.

When she's done he hops out of bed and takes the trashcan to the bathroom to empty it before bringing it and a cool washcloth back to the bedroom handing over the can first, before laying down beside Peggy and offering the cloth to wipe her brow and mouth.. "I hope not too," he says, though he wasn't sure if it was going to be that way for months or not, pregnancy? Very much not his area of expertise. "We should definitely talk to medical, get whatever help we can," he suggests. "I mean if it's what wer think it is," there was a small and ever shrinking hope however it was just a bad sandwich.

Peggy Carter has posed:
By the time he's returned, she's curled on her side in the bed again. The washcloth helps some, pulling away the sticky sweat from her skin and helping that clammy, sweaty feeling escape her body some. Peggy curls a bit more against his touch, evening her breath and letting the discussion of medical finally win the day. "Fine... fine. Call Phillips and make some excuses. Not about this. He... No one can know until we *definitely* known. Maybe not even then. Not for a while. Everyone treats you differently after that, you know... Just keep it quiet, and see if we can get a private meeting with medical this afternoon. And if we have ginger tea downstairs that... helps sometimes. Or mint." Peggy's voice is half muffled in the pillow she's drowning herself, but it must be miserable for her letting him take full control of the morning. She never asks for this much help.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel takes his time making sure Peggy is cared for before he kisses her cheek and rises from the bed to make the call. "No problem, I'll tell them we're both feeling sick and get Phillips to send a probie out with anything urgent we need to review," then he's slipping downstairs to make the call and brew some tea, returning a short time later with the tea sitting on Peggy's side of the bed to give it to her. "All set, let Phillips know we're both not coming in, didn't say why and we can sort out things with medical later on." Setting the tea down beside the bed he leans over to steal a kiss. "So, we'll get this sorted out, but for now we get to enjoy a day to ourselves," he says as he moves back to his side of the bed and snuggles in beside her.