5732/1951: Just Another Mission

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1951: Just Another Mission
Date of Scene: 26 March 2021
Location: Carter-Sousa Home - Long Island
Synopsis: Peggy and Daniel have breakfast and discuss a mission that in no way end badly. It's always the good days that getcha.
Cast of Characters: Peggy Carter, Daniel Sousa

Peggy Carter has posed:
Saturday. This was supposed to be their time. It generally *was* there time in the way that Peggy let him spoil her with late breakfast, they lay in bed as long as they liked, and the office knew to call only in case of emergencies. She's still not the steadiest in the mornings, but the worst of the morning sickness has been wearing off over the last week or so. It means it's the first Saturday she's dimly waking up to not feeling vaguely ill, and debating the merits of what's the use of laying around in bed if one is just going to feel sick?

She gives a little, happy sound, reaching over to his side of the bed to see if he's still there or up with breakfast already. She's not quiet awake, but she doesn't need to rush today.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel is the consummate early riser so it is no real surprise his side of the bed is empty when Peggy checks it. Though the distant sounds from the direction of the kitchen explains well what he's up to, which is made all the more clear when the door to the bedroom opens a short time later with Daniel, doing his best to shoulder it open while carrying a tray with French toast with the usual fixings and a cup of tea for Peggy and coffee for him. All of which seem to be on the verge of spilling until he finally make it to the bed and sits letting go of the cane and steadying the tray on his lap. Looking over his shoulder at Peggy he smiles, "Morning, up for breakfast?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
When she rolls over to find him gone, she does see the stack of files he went to bed reading last night. He took half, she took half. He also insisted that they go to sleep before she got to read his half, mainly because she was falling asleep reading her's and wouldn't admit it. But now she sees them, and there's something itching in the back of her head. Something she's been missing about the cargo reports coming in out of Russia. Instead of cuddling his pillow, she's stolen his pile of work now and is sitting up in bed, reading.

"You know, you *could* have asked for help, darling. These files would keep a minute longer. But yes, I'm starving." She confesses, leaving the file she was reading open on her bedside table now, but her faintly round stomach gives a little grumble at the scent of food and tea. She was raveous, especially for his cooking.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"Where's the fun in that?" Daniel asks with a smile. "I thought you liked living dangerously," he counters with a wry smile before he leans over to steal a kiss before shifting over to put down a plate of french toast and Peggy's cup of tea on the bedside table. As he settles back to where he was he eyes the file Peggy had been reading. "Stealing from my pile?" he asks her, getting up again and moving his plate and coffee to his side of the table clearing some of the files away so there's room to set it down. "See anything interesting?" The french toast does smell good, mixed with a bit of vanilla and cinnamon to add flavour besides what could be added with the berries and whipped cream on the side.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Yes, but not with my tea!" Peggy banters to his comment about living dangerously, though he's getting a wide smile to follow, since he *did* manage to make it to the bed without spilling anything. She then leans up into that kiss, following his lips a little longer as he pulls away. It's the most energy she's had in the morning in what feels like ages.

She gathers up her tea and plate, resting it in her lap against the lower edge of that little bump. She can eat and work. "Just a few files. I had a hint about something and had to check it. And *no* my eyes weren't going cross last night. Four of those manifests are completely identical. Down to customs officers names and container weights. So, either it's only one ship... or someone is hiding a whole lot of something."

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel grins, "Well your tea made it safe, don't worry, food too," he says before he's very much distracted by that kiss, smiling as he pulls away. "You're having a good morning it seems," he remarks seeming pleased by that. "You were definitely due," he says, nose wrinkling at the memory of some of the rougher mornings.

Once he's settled on his side of the bed, coffee in hand he looks over Peggy's shoulder at the file, "Wouldn't say such a thing," he says of her eyes going crossed reading files the night before. "Just think it loudly, but that's my limit," he teases before frowning at the manifest, it definitely supported Peggy's theory. "And they seemed to be counting on nobody checking, or nobody caring too much to notice."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"And since no one has complained about missing ships at the Brooklyn Shipyards, they must all be present." Peggy flips back a few more pages, to the top of the reports. "Definitely all different ships. And only three are even Russian, this one's coming in from Morocco. What in hells is going on. And which is the only real manifest?" Peggy asks softly, more thinking out loud than suspecting he's going to have the answer.

She sinks to the side in their bed, so her hip is resting against his as they both stretch out on propped up pillows with their food. They've long ago abandoned polite habits of no eating in the bedroom, or coffee table, or really anywhere. This was their house and they'd be comfortable in it. "Mm... and yes. You've rather outdone yourself this morning, haven't you? Feeling optimistic about my ability to eat today, hm?" She juggles french toast and faked files like a pro.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel's brow furrows at the problem with the ships. "Yeah, there's definitely something going on there," he agrees taking a sip of his coffee, before he eyes her across the rim of the cup. "Thinking of going and checking it out?" he asks suspecting he knows the answer already.

Though he's not so worried he can't offer a joking reply to her question, nodding, "Well it seemed like a win-win proposition, either you were having a good morning, or I'd get twice the french toast," he smiles. "Guess I'm going to have to settle for just my share though," he says with mock disappointment, that doesn't hide at all how pleased he was to see her doing better.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Nearly done with her first piece, Peggy gives him as innocent eyes as she possibly can. "Or you could... slightly... share your share." She grins, mostly teasing. Then over the last few bites of her own portion, she frowns while chewing, rereading the same file she was going over before. "I think so. I can get some initial intel, photos, see when they are shipping out. It might be nothing, or we might need to get a weekend crew together so we don't miss them leaving port. But no reason to call people in when we don't know anything for sure. Let them enjoy their weekends. I'll get dressed, go down there. We can split up the ships if we want to save time. Or make a date of it. Or you can stay home and have dinner ready when I get back."

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel smiles as she jokingly angles for some of his food too. Cutting his piece in half he lifts half with his fork and deposits it on Peggy's plate. "Only because you're eating for two," he teases back, eyes going down to Peggy's belly. "How is your passenger doing today anyhow?" he asks before he goes back to business.

"I'll come with," he says. "I'll make some bifanas to take with us though," he says, the Portugese pork sandwiches with their tangy sauce, that his grandmother taught him to make. "Good stakeout food as long as you don't like your suit that much."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Now you're just spoiling me. Extra french toast and bifanas? We might have to work every Saturday at this rate." She teases him lightly, but does not complain about the food. She even sets the files down closer to his lap so she can focus on diving into the extra bit he's given her. The question of her 'passenger' gets a wry smile as she looks down to her stomach, "Cooperating, for once, if my appetite is anything. And making most of my slacks less than comfortable. But that's all a good sign. I... suppose we're going to need to tell people soon. We work in an office of spies. This is not going to be...Hideable much longer."

Peggy was trying to ignore how many people she thought suspected already. She thought she was doing her best to hide matters but her shape had clearly changed, even if she's not all that round yet.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"Husbands privilege," Daniel says of spoiling her, as he leans over to kiss her cheek before he puts a little whipped cream on his remaining bit of french toast and digs in.

"Yeah," he admits of people in the office. "My money is on Chen knowing, she seems to have a knack for that, and there's a reason I have Rose checking over some things on the west coast," he says before looking down to cut another piece of the toast for himself. "Well, that and surf season," he adds. See?! He wasn't entirely selfishly shuffling staff to cover their secret. "Howard either knows or has his head too wrapped up in his latest invention, or his latest lady friend to put two and two together, he was bugging me the other day about how I must be a good cook since this the first time he's seen you put on weight since he's known you."

Peggy Carter has posed:
That gets a deep groan from her, eyes rolling to the ceiling, "Oh hell. If Howard's noticed, everyone's noticed. I didn't think it was quite so... Obvious." Peggy asks, looking up and tilting her head to the side so she can see into the mirror in her little vanity. She's not really at the right angle for any of it, but the expression on her face is obstinent. "Put on weight. Howard! I'm practically the same as the day he met me!" She huffs. And then dives back into her second piece of french toast. So maybe she has gotten a little puffy around the edges. It's a good sign.

Then she forces herself back to the files with a little sigh. "As tempting as it is to spend all day in bed, we should go. Keep an eye on things, see what we can find. I'd like to get aboard at least one of them if we can figure out their guard schedule. Any thoughts as to which one we should start with?"

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"Possibly," Daniel says of everyone knowing, grinning a little into his coffee at Peggy's indignation. Though if Howard noticed the odds were good the others did too, though none of them had said anything besides Howard at least in Daniel's hearing, which wasn't much proof of anything. "And for the record you still look amazing, but then I'm bias," he says with a smile before he turns his attention to the files. "That one from Morroco looks promising," he says before stuffing in a couple more bites of toast and a gulp of coffee things were likely going to start rolling sooner than later. "But we should move in quick and maybe we can get this other one too before it weighs anchor."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Two more bites and her plate's entirely cleaned. Peggy still has tea left, but she can work through that while getting dressed. She gives a little sigh of being put upon as he says they should move quick, then leans up to kiss him one last time before extricating herself from the sheets. "Yes, yes... move fast and maybe we'll be back by dinner. Perhaps even a movie tonight. A proper date. It's been ages." She smiles wide to him, feeling energetic and unnauseated for once was a whole new world, and this is the best mood she's been in for ages.

How quickly things can change...

She slips over to her dresser, searching her loosest set of working slacks and a comfortable, dark sweater. "We'll shower after, god knows you know what I smell like. No worse being stuck in a car with me than stuck in a bed." And she disappears to brush her teeth. Off to work for both of them.