5858/Ancestral Homecomings

Ancestral Homecomings
Date of Scene:	05 April 2021
Location:	Carter-Sousa Home - Long Island
Synopsis:	A comfortable Sunday morning in the Carter-Sousa household is disturbed by two surprises. An unexpected guest and a phone call to match. May lets Peggy know that Sharon's alive while Sharon stands in their kitchen, trying not to have a panic attack.
Cast of Characters:	Peggy Carter, Melinda May, Daniel Sousa, Sharon Carter

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Peggy Carter has posed:
Sunday morning on Long Island after an incredibly long, but incredibly fruitful week. Finding those moles was the end of an incredibly long road that Peggy never thought she'd see. It means she's actually letting themselves celebrate a bit. And with Daniel in the house, not all food needs to be take out. She got him all the things he'd need last night to do a full, nice breakfast. But she's also not missed how many of the agents have gently cleared out -- like they were giving the couple a second chance to build a bit of a life in this house. For this weekend? Peggy won't complain.

It's early enough she's still in her night robe -- a long satin thing in black with ridiculous pink flamingos on it. She's settled at the morning table, still half drowsy over a cup of tea but she's at least gotten up while he's cooking. Outside, the neighborhood is as idyllic as ever -- people mowing lawns, coming home from church, children playing in yards. It's all so normal it seems suspicious.

Melinda May has posed:
May is always up at 5am. She has been for years. Just because she's now bunking at the Playground, doesn't mean that's changed any. However, she's far more courteous about calling others, waiting until at least 9 on a Sunday morning before she risks disturbing their sleep. Consequently, it's a little after 9am that the burner phone she generally uses to contact Peggy begins to ring...

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel for his part is in honest to god striped pyjamas of the sort people used to wear to bed well, when he was last around, he's standing at the stove watching their french toast cook, while his coffee sits beside him within easy reach.

When the phone rings he moves towards the landline on the kitchen wall before he stops orients on the sound and turns Peggy's way. "I think that's yours," he says before heading back to cook breakfast.

Sharon Carter has posed:
Sharon wouldn't be considered the most 'Dangerous Spy in the World' if she didn't know where to find where Peggy and Daniel were staying. But then again, most agents who arrived at The Playground did make mention of Carter/Sousa after clearing out of the house, all Sharon had to do was ask where. And since sleep was for the week, Sharon spent most of her time in a Prius not too far away from the residence, watching the front door until the sun came up.

Seeing no activity, she finally steps out of the car, black bomber jacket and jeans on, pair of Nikes which were all too comfortable, hair in ponytail because it was easiest to do and.. quite frankly, looking like a battered housewife on the run.

To add to a slightly busy morning, Sharon steps up to the door, reaching over to ring the doorbell three times, adding a few knocks to go along with the ring. Why not!

Peggy Carter has posed:
The moment the phone rings, only faintly hearable from the other room, Peggy lets out a slow breath. "...I know that we don't really take days off, but bloody hell, couldn't we have a morning off?" Peggy breathes out slowly, giving a little groan as she abandons her tea and rolls up out of the table's chair. She isn't running for it. Frankly, if it was a big emergency, both their burners would be ringing, since she's got him one now. She leans up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "It's mine. I'll get it..."

And then the doorbell is ringing. A deeper frown crosses her lips, that more nerve wracking than her phone. She looks from him, towards the door, back to him, "I'll get the phone, you get the door. There's still a gun in the plant stand. Just... in case." There's a few front windows cracked open to let in the spring breeze, so Sharon might catch a clipped British accent from inside and those words if she's listening VERY closely. Peggy then double times back to her desk to pick up her burner.

"Carter speaking. Awful early on a Sunday... everything alright?"

Melinda May has posed:
"Peggy," May greets. "Yeah. Sorry for calling so early. I didn't think I'd be waking you. I just... figured I should check in." She's currently sitting in the room she commandeered for the night, watching digital breezes blow through a long-looping image of a tropical beach somewhere.

The image makes her snirk -- albeit silently -- and she pushes to her feet. "There've been some developments. And I thought you'd like to know that our new HQ is the Playground. We can transfer Vogel any time..."

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel frowns at the doorbell, one that's all the deeper for his service weapon being all the way back in his room. Grabbing a towel he pulls his pan off the burner, then trots to the bedroom gets his weapon and then makes to the door pulling on a robe and sticking the gun in its pocket. "One minute," he calls as he draws closer to the door and before opening it slowly. "Hi, can I help you?" he asks the strange woman he finds on their doorstep.

Sharon Carter has posed:
Sharon could hear; she even takes a little lean to attempt to peek through the window to see what she could. She straightens back up as she hears Daniel, nearly loosing her nerve going through the whole thing unannounced and unprompted.

"Shit." She mutters to herself, shifting her weight, hand lifting to rub at the bridge of her nose until the door was opened and..

..just like the pictures!

"I.." She starts, swallowing, her eyes slowly turning a shade pink as she fights back whatever emotion that was there. "..am coming in from the cold.. I know I'm late to the party." And it was a good thing she didn't give up her badge or leave it behind, but a quick show of metal by pulling away her jacket and covering it again hopes that her 'story' suffices.

Peggy Carter has posed:
There were dozens of agents still out there -- people who had been on assignments, who were just on different bases, some semi-retired, but it's not unheard of that another SHIELD agent only just now has heard that this place is a safe house. Peggy's not leaving the front room now, even if it's incredibly rude to show company her robe, those are habits of yesteryear. Right now, that robe covers far more than most dresses or suits and no one would give a damn other than the fact that Peggy, Daniel, and the house together all look like you've time traveled to the 1950s.

Peggy's standind a few feet back, watching Daniel and that woman at the door with narrowed, worried eyes even as she's on the phone with May. She's keeping her wording quite neutral, just in case someone is listening. "We could use the guest room downstairs, of course, but it's no rush to clear out our visitor. But that is good to know. I haven't been to the old offices in ages. I guess it's a week for nostalgia." Peggy admits with a little, too-warm laugh, trying to make the phone call sound like she's on with an old family friend, "And you didn't wake me. We were just making breakfast. You know that husband of mine, only competent cook in the house!"

Melinda May has posed:
"You've got company," May concludes, interpreting the odd laughter and choice of words. "Anyone I know?" She doubts it. Otherwise, there'd be no doublespeak.

"I can have a team there inside the hour. We've got quinjets again and it's a short hop between Starling and Long Island."

There's a beat. She adds. "And Fury wants me to take Garrett's job." Commander of the STRIKE teams. "I've got leeway."

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel nods when the woman flashes her badge, "Well better late than never," he says with a warm grin. "C'mon in and I'll throw on another couple of slices of french toast," he says stepping out of the way and letting her inside. "I'm Daniel, what do we call you Agent..." he prompts letting her go first into the front room as matter of practiced paranoia.

Sharon Carter has posed:
"13." Sharon offers up quickly. "Just call me thirteen." No last name, no first name, even though Carter is fairly common now a days. She smiles as she steps her way in, her brows lowering in a weird way as she studies the decor. It was.. cute, at least, but what really took her was the smell that was coming from the kitchen.

"This is.. different than what I imagined.." Sharon had to admit, spinning around and stopping as she sees Peggy on the phone. Her heart was bursting, she was in the same vicinity of legends and they were her grandparents. Her dad made them seem so..

"I'll just.." Sit in the kitchen. Pulling out a chair, she plops herself down, both elbows resting upon the table as she laces her fingers together, leg already bopping rather quickly. Nerves. She's getting 'nerves'. "So.. how.. is life? Any kids or..?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
Her head tilts a bit more, dark eyes flashing in concern at the badge, but it certainly looks like the real thing, even if this is an agent she doesn't know. Peggy is a little more wary than Daniel is, though she keeps a reserved smile on her strangely young looking features. She doesn't appear beyond her late 30s. A very young and healthy 40 at best. She's even almost caught up on sleep. She gives the woman a respectful little wave but remains on the phone.

"Yes. Someone rang the door just as you called. No one I recognize but she's got a membership badge to the local club, you know." Peggy's voice drops just a little, whispering the next bit as she doesn't entirely want the woman to know she's talking about her. "Blonde, slim, carries herself like an agent, looks like a soccer mom. Probably in her late 20s. Gave her name as 13." Which just makes Peggy frown more.

As for the question of kids, there's some interesting things around. An ancient bassinet in the corner of the living room which hasn't been moved yet, and there's definitely some black and white photos of a little baby on the wall, along with Peggy and Daniel holding the wrapped infant. But there's no photos of Michael older. Not in this house, at least. On the mantel is a glass jar full of spent bullets next to bronzed baby shoes. So, there was a baby in this house at one point.

Peggy ducks back into the kitchen, holding her hand over the receiver of the phone for a moment as she smiles to Sharon, "13, is it? You'll have to forgive me... the office on a Sunday. But, if you've just come back from the field, you know how it is. The Calvary calls, you pick up." Peggy then puts the phone back to her ear. She almost NEVER calls May that, but its a test for the woman at the breakfast table. Peggy's got sharp, shrewd eyes despite being in a vintage night robe and her hair still in pin curls.

Melinda May has posed:
May listens to the description Peggy gives -- and hears herself referred to as 'The Cavalry'. Her back stiffens a little, but she doesn't let Peggy know. Especially when she faintly hears the voice of the mysterious '13' through the line. "Does her face look like she's been in the ring with an abusive ex?" she asks, strangely enough. "And did you just say 13?"

Distantly, because May has pulled the phone away from her lips, an expletive can be heard. ("Jesus Christ, what the hell are you playing at, Carter?")

Then, more loudly through the line because she's brought her phone back to her lips, May says, "That would be the other development. It didn't occur to me until this morning that you'd have slept through most of it, but Agent 13 is the code name for one of our top field specialists who has been in deep cover in Russia for the last three years." There's an awkward pause as the senior agent tries to figure out how to break the news gently. Until she realizes she can't. She's the wrong person for that type of thing. "Her name is Sharon Carter, Peggy... She's... She's Michael's daughter."

May's sigh is deep, weary, and apologetic all rolled into one. She's an empath, now. Even through the phone lines, she can communicate more than one emotion at a time. It's a new talent. "It never occurred to me you wouldn't know. But if you don't recognize her, then..." It's a reasonable conclusion. "And she didn't know about you until I told her yesterday, so..."

Again that phone drops from her ear. ("Fuck.")

The phone comes back up. "I'm sorry."

Daniel Sousa has posed:
"One, but that was awhile ago," Daniel answers 13's question as he leads her inside. Daniel for his part looks no more than his late 30's as well, the limp and the cane giving away his injured left leg, dressed for a morning at home more than anything, though for a trained spy like Sharon, it's likely obvious he's armed. "Anyhow, want some coffee while I get something cooking for you?" he asks before glancing to Peggy to get her read on the situation as he heads to the coffee maker.

Sharon Carter has posed:
As Peggy addresses her, Sharon's head whips in her direction, which causes a ringing sensation that she ignores with a grin. A pained grin, one that looks almost as evil as it could, with her looking as she does. "Oh.. it's.. you're talking to May right now?" She doesn't say agent, she doesn't even use the proper honorifics, it was all casual in the way that Sharon said her name that made her internally scream.

Shit.

"Tell her I said hello." Please, don't.

Right now, Sharon was thinking of an exit plan, her leg was still bouncing rather erratically, fingers begin to knot into the other, she was -sure- that Peggy wasn't lying about speaking to May. SHIELD agents aren't liars.

"Actually, no thanks. I'm already rattled and coffee would just make it a bit worse. You mind if I go and get my bags from the car?" She pushes the chair back and rises, already stepping away with a gesture to the door.

"I'll be right back."

Sharon was definitely going to book it.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"It sure does. I'm about to offer her a steak to put on the thing." Peggy mutters into the phone, though she keeps a too-sunny side up smile on her face for the pair in the kitchen. It's not entirely fake -- just watching Daniel cook, even from a distance, is something that does make her smile. If Sharon sees nothing else, it's achingly obvious just how much the woman loves this man. Even if he'd been dead for 65 years.

Then that other news comes. Peggy goes dead silent for a few moments and, much to May's ears' discomfort, the burner phone slips out of her hands. It clatters loudly on the floor, probably drawing a fair amount of looks from the kitchen. She swallows back hard, scrambling to quickly pick it up, but those in the house can probably well see all the blood is gone out of her features. When she finally gets the phone to her face, she rasps out quietly, "N-no...no. They didn't inform me. And she says hello. I... " There's a thousand things she should say and a thousand and one more regrets she has, but all of them are stuck in her throat. "...I appreciate... the information, May. I should have...kept up on the file myself." Of her son, of course.

Then she hears Sharon's words. She knows that tension in her body, knows the look of someone who IS lying, or is scared enough to bolt, and Peggy frowns a bit deeper. May can probably hear her words over the phone as she speaks towards Sharon, "Sharon Carter... please, stay. I suppose I understand if you... hate us, but your grandfather is cooking breakfast and I... suspect we have a few things to discuss. Please. Stay." There. It's probably not the smoothest way to break it to Daniel, but everything was baidaid ripping awkward and Peggy couldn't let this woman run out of her life. Not seconds after she just found her.

Melinda May has posed:
May holds the phone away as it clatters, wincing deeply. "Shit..." she mutters. But as Peggy's voice eventually returns, she says, "Yeah. Well... Look, we'll talk about it later. You... go have breakfast with the kid. Tell her I said 'hi' and the offer for beer still stands."

She pauses just a moment, and then says, "'Bye, Peg." With that, she hangs up. It's... probably the best thing she can do.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
The sound of burner phone hitting the kitchen tile bring's Daniel's attention from refilling his coffee cup and sharply towards Peggy, his eyes full of concern, asking wordlessly, 'you okay?'

That's when Peggy drops the news on him of just who agent 13 is, he blinks, turning to take a second look at the woman, trying to find something familiar in her battered features.

The coffee pot is abandoned as he goes to the fridge and gets an icepack and a clean towel, wrapping the former in the latter before offering it to his? granddaughter. "Stick around, and if you need it, here," he says about the icepack, by slightly robotic way he presents the thing and speaks he's still trying to process it all.

Sharon Carter has posed:
Both hands raise disarmingly while she turns towards the door, her feet not fast enough to make it until she hears her name called. She stops, one hand slowly reaching out towards the doorknob, then pulling back to curl into a fist against her chest.

She remains quiet, both eyes squeezing shut, lips pursing tightly, her head shaking while she turns to give them both a pained expression. "I don't hate you.. either of you.." She quiets as Daniel offers up the ice pack, which she gladly takes. She was under orders to keep it iced, after all. "I just.." Her head shakes again. "..I just don't know you yet."

See! There was some hope! "I'm just.. really tired and I want to go home now."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"You are welcome to break-... fast." Peggy is calling over the phone, but May's already hanging up and then Peggy is on a dead line. She's left with silence there and the sight of her husband in his own little, robotic break down about it all. Even in shock, he's caring. His first thought was to go for an ice pack and that brings a faint smile flickering over her lips, even if she's still in a rather large amount of shock herself.

She carefully slips her cellphone into the pocket of her robe, stepping back into the kitchen and studying Sharon a bit closer with bittersweet, heartbroken, and incredibly protective, loving eyes. For the stern matron of SHIELD with the infamous calm, British reserves, she's got a torrent of emotion behind her gaze right now as she watches her grand daughter. "Not hating us... is a start. I understand why your father... feels the way he does. But your grandfather doesn't deserve any of it. He... he had no way to know. And I don't know you yet either. But... I want to. And I love you. No matter what, I love you." That seems achingly important to Peggy for her to say, and she gets it out. If the worst happens, if they never see each other again, Peggy said that. It matters.

Daniel Sousa has posed:
Daniel offers a sympathetic if slightly wry look, "Trust me with the week I've had I know how you feel," he offers Sharon. "And if you want to go, go, but I'd like to fix not knowing you, if it's not today, that's fine, but that offer's always going to stand," he says before he gives a nod of support to Peggy, knowing how much it means for her to say what she said.

Sharon Carter has posed:
Hesitation. Sharon squeezes the door as Peggy speaks, they both share the same sentiments but Sharon doesn't know how to voice that. She truly does love her grandparents, rather the idea of them, and never really thought otherwise.

If it weren't for them, she wouldn't be here.

"We.. I.." She grunts, letting out a breath of air as she tugs the door open. "I need to get back." She says finally, turning to give her grandparents a very odd look. They were.. young! At this point, her parents look a little bit older than they do now. One would argue genetics, and the Carter/Sousa family would laugh.

"I will see you two tomorrow. Okay?" Sharon doesn't wait for an answer, she was already out the door and speedwalking to the car so she could appropriately lose her shit in private. They were real!

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Of course. Be... safe." Peggy calls after Sharon. And then their front door is shut, the house empty once more, the scent of breakfast still heavy on the air but her appetite has gone for a ride. Hopefully it will return. Peggy lets out a slow, slightly shaking breath as she stares down at the carpet and drags one hand down across her face.

"...No one told me, Daniel... no one... Not Michael... not... another agent. And I didn't go... looking. Hell. She had to have been born after I... I went under. I just saw Michael was still alive and stopped looking. I... I didn't know." Her voice is full of apology and shock, more blame and mistakes just quietly mounting on her shoulders. "...but she doesn't hate us. Somehow."

Daniel Sousa has posed:
When Sharon departs Daniel finally drops into a seat. "I believe you," he says, before letting out a breath. "Grandparents," he says looking over at Peggy, with a bewildered look on his face. "Well that's definitely a shock and with the last couple of weeks we've had that's saying something."

He takes a sip of his coffee hand shaking just a little before he looks up and says, "Yeah, but then she's SHIELD so, that probably makes the difference," he reasons before he lifts his eyes in search of hers. "You okay?" he asks her.

Peggy Carter has posed:
As she catches sight of his shaking palm, she reaches one hand up to wrap over top of his and gives the most ginger, gentle squeeze. For as tough and stalwart as she is, with him, she can be incredibly gentle. Peggy leans up to kiss his temple softly, far better able to give reassurances in touch than she is words right now. Finally, she whispers, "...Not really. But you're here. She doesn't hate us. She's coming back tomorrow. It's... a chance. So. I will be. We all will be." She admits with a faint smile.

Then she's squeezing his hand again and gently trying to lead him back to the table, "Come on... I haven't had your Sunday breakfast in 65 years. We shouldn't let ot go to waste. Let's have one... normal thing, for a little while. I'm certain it won't remain that way." She gives him a little wink there, almost flirtatious, before they settle in to have their almost comfortable morning meal. A few files about the Playground are pulled up over french toast and coffee. Idle chatter about work over a comfortable meal suddenly makes it feel like six decades were barely six weeks.