7280/Early Morning Tea

Early Morning Tea
Date of Scene:	09 August 2021
Location:	Lounge - Playground
Synopsis:	Peggy joins May for breakfast, where the empath tries to explain just what life is like in her head these days.
Cast of Characters:	Peggy Carter, Melinda May

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Peggy Carter has posed:
Early morning. Peggy knows Melinda is up -- the woman's nearly always up at five am training or working out. Peggy's a little later, but restless and ready to work since her miraculous recovery and then the little 'vacation' back to New York. She's got a small bag in hand, peeking through the hallways for where Melinda might be -- not the gym. Not the rec room. Lounge it is. Peggy's not quite dressed for the day herself, opting for her comfortable black satin robe and hair still pinned up. It's tea time before she can think of being proper.

Melinda May has posed:
Indeed, May has been up since 5am. She's had time to shower since then, and has changed out of her workout wear, into her more usual black trousers and dark blouse. Her hair is still damp as she sets her mug on a counter. The kettle is on, and steam is starting to rise from its mouth. It won't be very long before it starts to whistle.

She senses Peggy's approach and automatically moves to pull down a second mug. Some things are guaranteed. And if Peggy is up and moving now, tea is definitely in order.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A slightly warmer smile crosses Peggy's lips as she steps into the room and sees May. It only grows as the other woman pulls down that mug. With most of the base still sleeping, there are few emotions to muddy the waters, and Peg's affection for the woman is clear on the air. A touch of excitement. The warmth that comes from realizing that May just automatically gets her a second cup. They're all lovely emotions, for once.

She steps closer and sets down the little bag in front of her. "Thought I might find you here. How was the morning spar?" She asks casually.

Melinda May has posed:
"Good," May replies, turning to give her friend a small smile. "Quiet, today. No one else was there." Which means it was less a spar and more as close to meditation as she gets, going through tai chi katas. "You seem quite well this morning." Translation: There's no angst or grief in Peggy's emotional aura, this morning. It's notable.

She glances down at the bag, a brow arching faintly. "Did you have a good time in New York?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
There is still a faint trace of it, the quiet, empty echo in the corner of her mind, but this morning Peggy isn't letting it overwhelm her. She's not dwelling. She's figured out some energy and focus on better things. A slightly warmer smile cuts across her unpainted lips, "I am... well as I've been in ages. Physically, at least. Back to work. The trip to New York was... nice. Recentering. Brought you some things..." She nods towards the bag.

Inside is a tin of the excellent imported green tea that Quon's often uses, and some of their fresh milk bread carefully saran wrapped in hopes to keep it for the whole drive home. It's still moist enough that she must have gotten it just last evening.

Melinda May has posed:
That faint echo is nothing compared to what it was. It allows May to relax more than she has in Peggy's presence in quite some time. Between Phil's recent injury and thwarting HYDRA's attempt to create their own real world Cambridge Incident, she's certainly felt a certain amount of pressure lately. Not to the same degree as just after the Framework, however. Some of that is draining just because of the passage of time.

Nevertheless, brow still arched, she carefully opens the bag. A more fully delighted smile touches her lips as she sees both the tea and the bread. "Ah," she says, "a taste of home." So to speak, anyway. Quon's is a close to a home as she has, these days. Outside of the base, anyway. "Thank you." Her smile is warm, but she is interrupted by the insistent call of the kettle as it whistles its readiness.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Of course. We'll have to take you back with us next time but... it was good to have a weekend with Daniel. Even if I am curious why Coulson bought us those tickets, it was... Quite generous of him." Peggy admits, something in her secret agent's sixth sense still slightly pinging off the matter, but she can't figure out why. And she does trust the man, so she tries to shake it off.

"Have *you* managed any time off since... everything?" She's now taking time to look Melinda up and down, that care in her gaze flickering through with gentle worry as well.

Melinda May has posed:
May cants her head faintly at the news Coulson procured the tickets that kept Peggy and Daniel away for so many days. "It was," she agrees. There's a faintly thoughtful tone behind the statement, but it yeilds nothing she can put her finger on.

It's also quickly replaced by a deadpan look and a snirk at the follow-up question. She doesn't even bother answering it.

Since they got out of the Framework, she's had no time she could actually afford to take off. She could outline exactly everything that's happened since they returned from the Sphere -- from the assassination attempt that nearly succeeded, through the Triskelion raid, right up to the recent attack on Park St. But really? There's little point. All those things sidelined almost everyone else, leaving May to carry a lot of the day-to-day stuff on her own.

Okay, yes. Phil did help. But she's got quiet concerns about him, too, right now. So... ye-ah. Time off. Whatever.

Peggy Carter has posed:
As May prepares the tea, Peggy sets out a small plate with the milk bread and a few other pieces of fruit from the fridge. Almost a breakfast for them. She lets the silence hang between them for a too-long moment before they both finally come to the little sitting area. Her head tilts in quiet concern.

"So, Melinda, are you going to tell me what all that on your mind, because it's clearly going a mile a minute right now. Share. We can talk it through. Is it about... Phil, possibly? How is he holding up?"

Melinda May has posed:
May sits opposite her friend, setting Peggy's cup down before her and taking her own in both hands in front of her. "Given the circumstances, he's doing as well as can be expected," she says. "I imagine Fitz will give him a new hand before too much longer, but still." As for the rest of her concerns about Phil... those are things she's supposed to direct to Fury. Classified, apparently. Highly, highly classified.

For the first time in a long time, all these operational secrets -- all these things being kept from each other, from friends and teammates they know and trust -- is starting to wear on her.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The look from Peggy is a long one. She might not be an empath, but she knows people. She especially knows May. Hell, part of her feels like she knows the woman for over a decade now, not just a year. She frowns a bit more, pushing the plate of food across the table as she studies her eyes.

"I'd say you can tell me anything but... maybe you can't. That being said, I am queen of this castle. Level 9. I've been through it all. If you can talk to *anyone*, I'm as close as you get. And I'm listening. Eat something. Tell me what you can... will..."

Melinda May has posed:
May snirks softly again, but does take a moment to enjoy the milk bread. It puts a slightly wistful smile on her face, but an enjoyable one nonetheless. Unfortunately, it doesn't last all that long. "There's a lot I'm not allowed to say, Peggy," she sighs. "Fury's orders. But, when it comes to Phil... we were partners for a long time. I know how he reacts to things. I'm just worried. Losing a hand is a lot." On top of everything else.

She doesn't go into just how non-stop things have been for her since the Framework. It's SHIELD. And she's Level 8, now. Non-stop is rather de rigur. The fact that everyone else has been effectively sidelined to one degree or another in the time since they returned from the Sphere is both a blessing and a curse. Keeping busy keeps her from dwelling. But keeping busy also gives her no time to process.

Thus, when they went after HYDRA on Park Street, she used the rage staff to match Gayle Trueshot... and won with definite prejudice.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peggy scoops up her own tea, curling her legs up onto the couch and letting the mug remain nursed between her fingertips as it steams. She's eager to drink it soon, the sort to drink tea the moment it won't burn her lips, but she's not quite there yet. The commentary about things with Fury makes her frown. Peggy doesn't like knowing things. "...looks like I'll have to talk to Fury." She mutters quietly.

She then buries any other commentary in her tea. She doesn't need to put that frustration on May, but there's part of her that quite misses being Director. She's used to knowing everything. "...and I read the report about the fight with Trueshot. How are you...holding up? I mean, I'll sit here and try to drag every last inch of weight and exhaustion out of your mind, or... you can just talk to me, you know?"

Melinda May has posed:
May can feel Peggy's quiet spike of frustration and passing irritation. She lets a wry smile tug at her lips. At least, she's not really alone in all that. "It's going around," she comments dryly. God knows, it's been driving Phil as much as anyone -- a need to know, and Fury blocking the way. It seems to be a habit the one-eyed man has gotten really good at.

In the end, though, she shakes her head, breathing in the warm steam of her tea. It's nearly drinkable. Not quite yet. "I'm not much of a talker, Peg. You know that." She purses her lips faintly, considering a better answer, nonetheless. "I'm handling things," she concludes. "We were never going to take Trueshot in peacefully. Maybe I didn't need to use the staff, but I learned the hard way--" The Framework is *definitely the hard way-- "that the only way I can go toe-to-toe with as many superhumans as HYDRA was fielding that day is with that staff in my hand. Right or wrong, it was a tactical decision." And not one she intends to repeat often, though she's sure it will end up being repeated at some point. "It's not something I recommend, generally." There really is a reason she's one of the few people who can weild it without losing their heads. And her Inhuman ability has very little to do with it.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A nod of quiet agreement comes in response to the tactical decision part. Peggy agrees, it seems. "I don't blame you and... you're one of the few people who can use the damned thing and not lose yourself to it. I don't want you pulling it out every mission but... we can't keep pulling our shots with HYDRA. We get the chance to take them out, we take it with as much force as necessary. Even more, really. So we know that we'll take the win. We can't risk more losses." Peggy's not exactly a cold woman, but this situation with HYDRA has made her colder. Darker. More willing to do some ugly things for the win. She's only ever hated Nazis in her life and HYDRA is the worst of them.

"But... you put the staff back down. How's your head? I'll admit I don't quite know how... bad the thing is. Only that it isn't pleasant and I trust you with it."

Melinda May has posed:
May has no problem with taking out HYDRA in a very, very permanent fashion. She'll back Peggy 100% on that. Sometimes, you have to make the hard call. After what felt like decades under HYDRA's rule, she has no illusions about what it will take to take them out.

Nevertheless, she inhales a deep breath and exhales it very slowly. "I don't advise you ever find out," she tells Peggy. "Whatever you felt when you held onto my doppleganger's version of it likely told you all you need to know about it." And now, of course, they know why that version of May had weird empathic powers. It's remarkable how the pieces keep falling together -- one timeline's small variations against another's.

She carefully sips her tea, now. It's still almost too hot, and the green tea hasn't quite steeped as fully as she'd like. But she appreciates the burn. It's no whiskey, but it's bracing in its own way. "I got very, very drunk afterward," she admits. "It was bad enough before the Framework. Since then..." She gives a mild shrug, as if it's really not as big a deal as they both know it is.

"It is what it is. We'll handle it. We always do."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Since then, it's worse. I know it is what it is, Melinda... that doesn't mean it's not utterly fucked up. It doesn't mean you're not hurting. I... I know maybe you don't... trust me. Maybe we're not as close as I think, or remember, because god, all that's still mixed up in my head and heart. But I care about you. Part of me named my first *child* after you. And... I'd do it again. Here. Now. So, if you want to scream, or vent, or just ask me to go down stairs so you can beat up a living person for a while... Just say. But shutting off? It does no one any good. Yourself or me. I just sit here... worrying. Wondering, if I could do more. Not just for one of my agents. For my *friend*."

That little speech is about as empassioned as the often reserved Brit lets herself be, but Peggy clearly means every words. She loves Melinda that much and, more than that, she's been that worried. She knows she checked out, was sick in a way she never could have planned. Now, she's back and trying to pick up pieces she's worried are too small to glue back together. So, she watches Melinda with worried dark eyes, her tea forgotten for the moment.

Melinda May has posed:
Melinda frowns, now, her brows pulling together in a tight knot. "Before the Framework, I trusted you implictly," she tells her friend. "Inside the Framework, I wasn't *allowed* to trust you. Not if I wanted to keep all of us alive." She shakes her head. "The tightrope I walked for *years*--" Because they both know it was years, even if it wasn't real-- "was all about trying to figure out when to stop you from going so far they'd kill you. I knew I could trust you to be exactly who you are right now. And that you couldn't afford to trust *me* because of that."

Privately, she's sure that is what helped make Peggy so soft in there... her interference and manipulation to keep them from attracting the Doctor's attention for so long. Right up until she managed to attract that attention herself, instead.

"I don't know what to tell you, Peggy." She reaches for her tea. "I am angry. I have been angry for a very long time. That's not going to change. Having these new... abilities... hasn't changed that. It just means deal with a lot more of it than I did before. Because everyone else is angry, too." She meets her friend's eyes. "But I know how to handle anger, Peggy. I've been dealing with it for a very long time." It's the softer, gentler things she doesn't know how to handle. Grief. Sorrow. Joy. Love. "The staff simply has a lot more material to work with now, than it did before. My brain tells me we spent some 15 years inside that box, instead of a simple month of days."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Well, we aren't *in* there any more. We're back out here. You're allowed to trust me again, for what that is worth." Peggy murmurs, softer than before. She's keeping her own emotions in quiet check for Melinda's sake as much as anything. The only thing she's letting herself feel spilling through is that gentle trust and warm affection for her friend -- feelings she has for very few people, but absolutely holds for Melinda May.

"And that means anger is... easy. But you're feeling things other than anger. Joy. Grief. Sadness... Pain. Being overwhelmed by those has to be a hell of a lot harder than rage. Especially not being your own. This...isn't just about the anger."

Peggy gives a faint nod in agreement about the time spent in the Framework, finally picking up her own tea to nurse it between her hands. She takes a sip of it to gently help her own thoughts organize. Finally, she just echoes, "Oh...I know. I...remember all those 15 years too."

Melinda May has posed:
May sighs, setting her cup down. "I *do* trust you, Peggy," she says. Her lips press together tightly. She grimaces. "It's *me* I don't trust." She rakes a hand through her hair, trying to decide what to say, what not to say -- really, what to admit aloud, what to keep buried inside. Andrew was right. She really sucks at emotions.

She doesn't *like* opening up. She has always guarded her inner life as private. Personal. No one else's business. This is why she prefers hitting things. Touchy-feely doesn't do it for her.

But it's Peggy doing the asking. Only Phil is closer. They're both family. "Sometimes, I don't know where I stop and everyone else begins. I've learned to identify people by their emotional signature -- I can tell you the core of almost anyone's personality, just based on their usual emotions. It's... weird." She's not sure she likes it. It's an invasion of privacy. Theirs *and* hers.

She breeches that privacy regardless. "Underwood is all curiosity and amusement, with a small, deep core of anger, frustration, and pain. Daniel is bewildered... or *was*... before the Framework. So, I think that's really just because he's a man out of time. Otherwise, he's confident, determined, and stalwart, but with a deep core of regret and longing." She gives her friend a wry, almost apologetic smile. "*You* are fierce, driven, and unyielding... and so full of guilt and anger, I suspect you drown in it as much as I do my own."

She picks up her tea and holds the mug against her lips without sipping before she says, "I could go on... Bobbi. Jemma. Daisy. Phil..." But she won't.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peggy listens in silence, giving Melinda all the room to open up and some patience, even if it takes time. Her brows furrow a bit more as she hears the woman lay out how she can get to the core of people's personalities, especially when she's able to call Peggy out quite so keenly about it. A bittersweet smile paints itself across her mouth. She hides it behind another sip of tea.

When May finally falls into silence, Peg almost reaches a hand out, wanting to touch her, to give that sort of steadiness that comes with human contact. But then she pauses. Her frown comes a bit deeper. "God. I don't even know if I can touch you without flooding you with... *muck* from my own head, things you don't need. But... hell. Melinda. It sounds rather like hell. We... we need to get you somehow to inhibit it, control it better, for your own sake as much as anything. And I know you hate time off, but maybe a day or two each week to go somewhere far and alone. To decompress from everyone."

Melinda May has posed:
May exhales softly. "Things go wrong when I take time off," she notes. Whether it's here at work or wherever it is she goes when she's got leisure time, it's a trend she's noticed. That's not to say, however, that she wouldn't take the time, if she felt she could. It's hard to do so, though, when everyone else is out of commission. Now that Peggy's back... maybe.

"But, that's the thing." She reaches out to lay a hand briefly atop Peggy's. There's a half second hesitation before she does, but she does nonetheless. "It doesn't matter if you touch me or don't. I'll feel it, anyway. Everyone walks around with all these secrets -- what they're really feeling inside." She releases Peggy's hand, oddly comforted by the overwhelming desire Peggy has to comfort her. "I can't tell you *why* most people feel the way they do. I can only make educated guesses based on what I know of them personally, human nature, and the situations I'm already familar with. I don't read minds. Just emotions." A beat. "With friends and family... my accuracy is a whole lot better." Makes sense, really.

"I walk into a building and, if you asked me to, I can probably tell you how many people are in it and where they are. I have to think about it, but... I can do it." She swallows more tea, trying to explain the changes she's experienced since Afterlife. "I can tell you their general disposition, but not why they feel that way. Is the security guard grumpy because his wife kicked him out? Or because he knows we're going to hassle him for surveillance footage? Or because he ate something that disagreed with him at lunch? I don't know. It's... not nearly as useful as people think."

That said, it's still a useful tool for a profiler as experienced as she is.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The fact that May willingly reaches out to touch her brings a small wash of warmth from her. It's a mix of feeling honored and trusted, but also genuine affection for the woman. And a little bit of having missed her. She's close with Melinda in ways she didn't expect, but have grown somehow deeper for the Framework as well. She sets her tea down and reaches her other hand out for just a heartbeat, wrapping it overtop of May's with a softer smile.

"Well, then, I'll be glad we can still do this, even for just a little bit. I know you wouldn't want anyone seeing and thinking you've gotten soft." Peggy teases her gently, giving that hand a squeeze before Melinda pulls back. She then returns to sipping her tea, that of more interest than the sweets. She's still waking up, despite the heaviness of the conversation.
    Well, that's... not complete mind reading, but still useful gifts for someone in our... Field. We just have to make certain they don't drive you to insanity. So, I'm back now. I'm one hundred perfect. I can hold down the fort while you take a day off each week. Or, however else you figure you can give your brain a rest. Whatever you need, we'll make it happen. Alright?"

Melinda May has posed:
May nods, giving a small smile, mostly at the warmth she senses from her friend. There's a certain reassurance to it. "I'd like to see Phil back on his feet first," she admits. "But I also... I want to take a couple of days and go to Nepal." Afterlife. Where a lot of her nightmare began. Hell, she didn't know it at the time, but even in Bahrain, Afterlife loomed large in the background.

"HYDRA destroyed the place. I doubt there's anything more there to see. I just... I want to go look, anyway." And it has the advantage of being extremely remote and isolated. Depopulated.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A gentle nod comes in return, "Of course. As soon as you're comfortable going leave granted. I mean, unless we find a few active HYDRA installations to attack right that moment. But I have a feeling you can take a few days. See how Phil is doing, let me know. Take a Quinjet and go." Peggy clearly has no doubts or hesitations about this. She trusts May that much. Even if the ride is of a personal nature. "We can count it down as recon, or something. At least you can go in style."

With that permission given, and the thought that May might actually take a few days, Peggy's a touch more relaxed with her concern. It's not all gone, but it's not pressing, deep worry. She takes one last sip of her tea, finishing it off with a little glare to the cup. "That...generally means it's shower time here. Or gym. Then shower. I still never quite managed to get back to military time after the war was over." She smiles a bit more. "All those years Daniel and I were married -- are... married -- and he has to drag me out of bed every damn morning."

Melinda May has posed:
May gives a small smile at that. "And yet, here you sit. I'd offer to get you up to train with me at 5am, but I don't think anyone would thank me for it." No one wants to make the boss grumpy.

She pushes up from the table, though, figuring it's best to let Peggy go. Nevertheless, she pauses, one hand on the back of her chair, the other wrapped around her mug. "The Framework wasn't real, Peggy," she comments sadly, "but the emotions were. Everyone seems to think the fact it was a simulation means it doesn't count. But it does. We're all carrying that. Not just me."

Peggy Carter has posed:
As May says that, Peggy stop sin her own motions of getting up. She is silent for several long heartbeats, looking down to her empty mug before finally drawing dark eyes up to her friend's. "I... I know. But that doesn't make it easier. If I say they weren't... real. I never had those little girls... We never went through those fights -- they were just code -- maybe... Maybe some day it will be easier to let go. But... I know, Melinda. I'm sorry it happened. I... wish I had better words." Her expression is bittersweet there. The grief isn't quite so sharp and completely overwhelming as it was after they first came out, but it's still there. It probably always will be.

Melinda May has posed:
Probably. Even for Melinda, the edge has worn off a little. But her business-as-usual is all about hitting things. This talking stuff... isn't comfortable. Not even with family. "There aren't any," she agrees. "I just... need someone to understand that there's more to it than intel stolen on both sides."

She picks up her mug and returns it to the sink, rinsing it and putting it in the small dishwasher to be run later. "Thanks for breakfast."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Of course. Enjoy the tea. Next time we go to the house, let me know if you want me to pick up anything else at Quons for you." Peggy offers gently, not even able to imagine how overwhelming New York City must be for the woman nowadays, but she's not going to ask her to go in, just in case. With that gentle offer, Peggy turns on the ball of her foot and heads back down the hall to change for the day. The work carries on.