6919/My Frienemy, My Responsibility, My Failures

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My Frienemy, My Responsibility, My Failures
Date of Scene: 13 July 2021
Location: Shooting Range/Armory - Playground
Synopsis: Peggy comes to make Dottie an intriguing offer, and catch up for old times' sake. A momentary agreement is struck.
Cast of Characters: Dottie Underwood, Peggy Carter




Dottie Underwood has posed:
They've let Dottie into the shooting range. Sloppy. If she were in charge, she wouldn't have let someone like herself out of a cell. They've given her a weapon too - an automatic pistol. Tsk tsk. Lucky for every single life in this facility all she has planned is a little target practice.

Her target set at the maximum distance, she dons the ear protection. And then, taking a breath, she fires. One shot after another, each trigger squeeze in time with her heartbeat. Until the clip is empty.

She brings the target forward. There's only one hole, square in the center of the chest. One mark, singular focus. Perfect.

She resets to repeat the exercise.

Peggy Carter has posed:
There have been many things on her desk to catch up with during the day. Too many reports, too long gone. But something in the back of her head kept bothering her -- Dottie Underwood. What happened to the woman while she was in freeze? Why was she out again? Possibly an abuse of her rank, but they gave it to her for a reason. Peggy finally digs into her old enemy? Friend? Equal? Well, into Dottie Underwood's file. And what she finds kindles a rather hot burning fire of temper in her chest. A bloody *schoolteacher*? Her mind rewritten? A hiss of displeasure escapes her teeth over her now abandoned tea and she stands abruptly. Paperwork can wait.

It doesn't take overly long to find the woman. Medical first, but she's been released. Then guest quarters. Finally, the shooting range. If Peggy had thought better, she probably should have started there. When she stalks into the room, Dottie might be able to recognize all the very subtle signs of anger just barely swallowed back under Peggy's features. But not at Dottie. At something else. Still, her cheeks are a bit flushed beneath those faint red circuitry lines left by the Framework and her breath comes just a bit fast. "I know what they did to you. When you are... done, we should talk." Peggy tries to say it loud enough that she can be heard over the ear protection. She doesn't dare come between Dottie and the target -- even if the woman is carrying an ICER pistol, it's a bad idea, but there is a lot on the brunette's mind.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
The target comes forward. A single hole to the head this time, the edges of bullet hole frayed slightly too wide, by the passage of so much ammunition. Dottie checks the clip, empty -- as it should be since she palmed the final bullet when she released the cartridge. Possibly unnecessary, but old habits settle her, especially here. She was never a girl guide, but she likes to be prepared.

She removes the ear protection and sets it on the ledge in front of her. She'd almost let the band settle around her neck, but had thought better of it. "Nice toys you have here, Peggy," she says, identifying the woman at her back without turning around, "Fancy, even on the run. Should I expect high tea at four?"

Her voice is light, even, almost teasing, but without the life of her usual viciousness.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The neurotoxin bullets are strange. Built with similiar casings but more hollow inside, the potent substance just waiting to touch skin, muscle, and flesh before taking it's near immediate effect. They feel just slightly lighter than regular bullets. It's what everyone around here carries in base. Getting a real gun around here? It's doable, but it takes a lot of levels of permission.

Peggy slightly smiles as the woman finally removes her ear protection, though it doesn't reach her eyes. Those dark eyes are still angry. Protective, betrayed, a wild mix of emotions she's very carefully swallowing back. "I... do also keep good tea here. This was my castle to run for a long time. I take care of my people." Except when they don't tell her what is going on. The thought alone makes her jaw tense once more.

"I... I know what they did to you. When I *wasn't* in charge." She sounds ready to curse.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dottie shrugs. "What did they do to me, then?"

She isn't completely sure herself, as the process she underwent is still shrouded in a haze of forgetting. But she poses it as a challenge to be met, a confirmation of truth, rather than a lack of knowledge. After everything, she still knows how to play the game.

And she has been a pawn or weapon of a government organization for her whole long life: the Red Room, Leviathan, HYDRA, SHIELD -- is there really any difference? What care has the gun of the hand that holds it?

Peggy Carter has posed:
"They took you away from yourself. And they did it without *my* permission. You have always been... Mine. Enemy. Sometimes ally. Challenge. Prisoner. I handled it, and you were somewhere *safe*, and they... decided that wasn't enough." Peggy is practically spitting mad about it all, but then, that's why she marched down here. "Not to mention, the whole bloody program is an anathma to everything this god damned organization stands for." That little rant done, she pauses. She forces herself to take a breath.

She then raises her eyes towards Dottie, expression going a touch more somber. It twists something in her to say this, but she feels it needs said, "I am... sorry. What they did to you wasn't... Right. It should have been my decision."

Dottie Underwood has posed:
There, creeping in at the corner of Dottie's mouth, is the beginning of a grin. That admission of possessiveness both stirs an excitement inside her and brings with it a soothing calm. The game has always been between the two of them, no matter board they played upon. Anticipation begins to mount again. Perhaps Peggy Carter hadn't lost herself completely to mewling children and the distraction of being a perfect housewife to that *man*, such a dreadfully boring stand-in for Captain America; perhaps the simulation hadn't ruined her after all.

The apology itself isn't important. Not to Dottie. Still she quips, "Oh Peg, you *do* care." And there's a little bit of that deadly sparkle back in her eye.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A slight roll of her eyes comes in turn, "I have been accused of many things in my life -- not caring is rarely among them. Yes. You are a highly dangerous weapon and a highly useful ally depending on which sea breeze you have decided to breathe in that morning. None of them understand that, truly. I *do*. And... doing what they did to you removes all usefulness you have. To yourself *and* to me." Peggy is still quite cross, though she realizes she may have slightly showed her hand too much here. How very personal this is, not just the job.

Her eyes flicker downwards with a slight purse of her lips. "It's simply not... Practical. And despite all of that, you've shown your... usefulness yet again. Thank you. It did not go... unnoticed, what you did in there." Peggy lets dark eyes life to meet Dottie's again.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"I have experienced true boredom, thanks to your Director." Dottie says. The epithet for her TAHITI experience seems ungrateful. But really what else could be expected of her? "Once was more than enough to last me the rest of my life." Her choice of words recalls her sentiment upon waking up outside the Framework. Her actions were a selfish charity. And any thanks or apologies fall flat. Boredom is the greatest enemy. "It didn't...stick. So," she gives a small shrug, "here I am."

The nonchalance is a betrayal of how rudderless Dottie has been since the final reprogramming fractured; her personhood eroded over the years -- first by HYDRA, when the collateral damage from her missions became too great, and then SHIELDs coup de grace, robbing her of even her long-honed training. Dottie Underwood beholden to no one, how unsettling. What is left in her life, but this other woman? Peggy Carter: her nemesis, her companion.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Silence lays between them for a long few heartbeats, Peggy studying the other woman with a strange mix of emotions. The familiarity of love there, but also wariness. Distrust. A caged, dangerous animal who she knows will eat her as quickly as rub against her in affection. But she understands that much. "I'm glad it didn't stick. But I'm sure... parts of it did. What HYDRA did to you for all those years? And the Red Room before that? I... *dislike* that SHIELD has been the pinnacle of just how much they mucked around in your head. No, it's not... normal. Your mind. Probably not even sane. But it is *yours*. The others should have ever changed that."

Peggy then breathes out slowly, trying to let go of some of her anger so she can think about the situation a bit more clearly. She dares to take two steps closer to Dottie, her high heels a quiet, clicking echo on the armory floor. "Now, you have choices. You can stay here. I will do my best to fix whatever they did to you. You won't be an Agent but a... consultant. Free to do your own work, but take special missions for myself as well. I believe we have a mutual enemy at the moment. We have done such work well together in the past." A coy smile crosses Peggy's ever-red lips. "Or... you can run. See who tries to kill you first. Put the pieces back together yourself and, likely, never see me again. The choice is yours."

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Work for SHIELD? Dottie can't think of that. But to work *with access* SHIELD, all its secrets at arms length, the closest she's ever been to understanding Peggy, closer than neighbors, certianly. And the two women's lives have been too entangled for too long to ever truly be separated. As if Dottie would have gone through all the trouble of finding Peggy, of pulling her back from nothingness, of even giving her back the husband Dottie had taken from her so many years ago, only to let the woman slip through her fingers now.

"Now, Peggy," Dottie coos in her false midwestern drawl, "that's not a choice, and you know it."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Both dark brows arch smoothly, her red lips pressing into a line as eyes roll to the ceiling for a moment, "That is absolutely a choice. One that might be easy to make, but it is a choice. I have control here again. You've already seen inside our hallowed halls of this Playground. If you are going to sell us out, you'd probably have done it already and will do it no matter what I offer." She smiles and levels her eyes in the woman's direction.

"I just think I have something far more interesting to put on the table than they do. And we have always made a highly effective... Partnership."

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"With an invitation like that, how could I possibly refuse?" She wants to be mocking, but cannot. Peggy Carter has always been her path back to herself. Whoever Dottie Underwood is must be someone they both value. Neither of them would be here otherwise.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg's eyes flicker to the side, staring at those targets beyond, and then down to the sheet with the quite perfect holes in them. And amused glimmer crosses her eyes as she mutters, "Generally your refusals are quite lethal. I'm glad I didn't get one. But... I shall leave you to your practice. We'll arrange a room for you here that can be your... Own... as you need." That is a promise of privacy as much as it is a scrap of offering Dottie to build some home. She knows that's a double edged sword. "It was lovely speaking, Dot. Glad we could reach an... Understanding."

And with that, Peggy turns on the ball of her foot, neatly walking towards the doors unless she is stopped. She trusts Dottie enough, at this moment, to turn her back to the woman. Perhaps a foolish mistake, but it's done. Only the click of her heels echoes behind her as a final goodbye.