8520/Good Mornings are Overrated

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Good Mornings are Overrated
Date of Scene: 02 November 2021
Location: Food Court: Triskelion
Synopsis: May and Peggy share a late breakfast and a catch up over uneaten muffings. May gives Peggy some proper advice and they make a dinner date.
Cast of Characters: Peggy Carter, Melinda May




Peggy Carter has posed:
It was technically after breakfast hours. Peggy came in late this morning (after leaving early on Friday) and spent the first hour hovering over tea in her office trying to push through the vague nausea and exhaustion that she'd been feeling the last several days. Eventually, she knew food was needed. After the crowds are gone, she's brought herself down to the food court and is standing at the all day station, staring at the food like someone looking over a shelf of rotting produce. She does not look thrilled.

She's still got a mug of tea in her hands, a strong ginger scent coming from it instead of her normal gunpowder. She must have brought it down from her office, there isn't fancy tea like this at the foot court.

Melinda May has posed:
May has been at the Triskelion for hours. She's really not fond of the load of paperwork included in this whole Commander gig. Her days, lately, have mostly been her 5am workout, 7am training classes, and then grab some sort of breakfast after 9am when she retreats back to her office to review assignments and reports.

So the fact she actually coinicides with Peggy in the commissary is actually quite something. She puts a bag of green tea she brought from her own stash into a mug and pours some hot water over it from one of the kettles off to one side. "The muffins don't suck," she tells her friend, drawing alongside her. "I don't recommend the coissants, though. And the bagels are pretty much picked over by now."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A slight wrinkle comes to Peggy's nose at the recommendation of any food, but hearing May's voice makes her smile. She turns dark eyes over towards her friend, definitely looking a little tired around the edges herself, but aren't they all these days? "None of it sounds... appetizing, I'll admit. Better than rations, I suppose, but not by much. Maybe it's just a tea morning." She grumbles into her mug, taking another deep sip of the familiar ginger flavor. That is relaxing, at least.

"Good to see you, though... early lunch?" She knows May's hours and that this is remarkably late for her being in for breakfast. She can only assume.

Melinda May has posed:
Ginger, May knows, is also very good for settling upset stomachs. And isn't a flavour Peggy is prone to most mornings. She doesn't say anything about it, however. No reason to. They all have days like that.

"No. Late breakfast," she admits. "I suppose more of a 'coffee break', now." For all that she's drinking tea. She reaches for one of the muffins and sets it on a small plate. "I likely won't get lunch, now, until after two."

She shrugs. "They're cycling through cadets this week. I'm still tasked with reviewing their combat readiness and recommending improvements." A beat. "Honestly? I think they just want me to put the fear of God in them before they graduate."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Oh god. It is that week, isn't it? I... Hell. I feel like it was just summer." Peggy drags her free hand down her face, trying to shake the exhaustion free, but it's not really happening. She then reaches out and scoops up a muffin for herself, nodding towards one of the corner tables. "Care to sit and take five minutes to breathe? You can tell me all about them, or I can tell you about one of the next crop I'm sending. Just got him in as a recruit. He's a good man... husband is already with SHIELD, so, there's all those complications, but I'm not one to throw stones." Peggy half grins.

Melinda May has posed:
May smiles at the offer to sit. She gestures for Peggy to lead the way and follows her to the table. As she slides into her seat, she gives a mild shrug.

"There's not really a lot to say about this morning's batch." she says mildly. "They're green. Cocky. And have some seriously strange ideas about what being a field agent is all about. But that's normal. Half of them will flunk my course. Of the rest, a handful will excel and the rest will hang on by the skin of their teeth. The only difference between the lot of them come graduation will be the ones that didn't flunk will get to brag 'the Cavalry' passed them, while the others will bitch and moan about what an uncompromising, out-of-touch hardass I am." Sound like the voice of experience? She actually manages not to growl the hated callsign, though the distaste is still on her lips.

"Tell me about your fellow. What's his deal? Who's his husband?" Among other details.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A husky, quiet laugh escapes her lips as May lays out the current class. Peg gives a slight tilt of her head in understanding, "For what it's worth, nothing has much changed about that since the 50s. I remember so many of our first classes. Especially teaching them... They don't seem to understand we're hard on them because we care. The only way to start nailing it home and it still doesn't always get through..." Peggy sighs, some strange wistfulness behind the tone. She misses the teaching, as much of a headache as it was.

"Ah. Jonathan Sims. He's Blackwood's husband, if you remember the man. As agents go, he's quiet, but mostly effective. Sims is... well, I knew his grandmother. They have a strange family... Inheritence. A large Archive of strange things in the world. Something I always thought should be under SHIELD's perview, and now it will be. Sims himself is... nervous. Very raw. But a therapist, something we could use on staff instead of calling... out of house," She knows better than to say the name around May, "and doesn't shy away from hard things. I think he'll manage after some of the shine is rubbed off."

Melinda May has posed:
"Sounds like a WAND project to me," May says. A large archive of strange things? WAND or the 084 vault. Either way... May's first instinct is to back far, far away from it. As carefully as she can.

She arches a brow slightly at the oblique reference to Andrew. True, she doesn't particularly like to dwell on him, but the careful tapdance on eggshells isn't... really necessary.

"How nervous?" she asks, eventually. "You said you thought he was a good candidate."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"More like the 084s, but I'll handle it. I just want to make certain it's safely under OUR protection and not floating out in the world. I'd assign Dr. Foster to it, but she's already got her hands full. No matter, it's not a worry for *your* plate. Just some history on the man." Peggy settles in a bit deeper to the seat, trying to properly relax even if her body won't let her. She takes a few picks of the muffin, little bits between her fingertips and then her lips, as if crumbs might awaken her appetite. It's not much helping.

"I think he *will* be a good agent. Possibly not a field agent, but good for all of SHIELD. Having a therapist on staff would help, and he's not one who is going to blink at strange things. Goodness, once he's trained up, I suspect he'll best fit in WAND Himself. Nerves are... Well, we'll see if we can break him of them or not. He feels young, if that makes sense? Even if he's not."

Melinda May has posed:
May understands the impression, yes. She chuckles softly. "There are days *I* feel young to you," she notes. Despite the fact Peggy now looks only half Melinda's age.

She watches her friend pick at her muffin as she tears chunks off her own to enjoy. "You're really not hungry, huh?" Her head cants faintly. "You feeling okay?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
A momentary, deep laugh escapes Peggy's throat as May mentions sometimes feeling young to her, "Yes! Sometimes... But not exactly. Not *young* young. He feels pratically a child. I know he's not, but... Goodness. I know it is cliche` to say they keep making them younger, but it feels that way." Peggy smirks, opting for her tea instead of that partially picked at muffin in front of her. Tea is a comfort.

Then May actually asks her about it. The drop of her eyes gives her away almost immediately -- she's feeling awful. But she presses a more confident smile across her lips, picks her head up, and meets her friend's gaze again. "Not... quite. A passing stomach bug, I'm certain. Nothing bad enough to keep me home."

Melinda May has posed:
Peggy does remember May is an empath, right? Her brow arches again as she takes a sip of her own tea. She studies the woman a moment, but then -- again -- just lets it go.

When did May become so zen, anyway?

In truth, in this case, it's more that Melinda is giving her friend some space. It may very well be just a stomach bug. How is she to know? It doesn't stop her from being concerned. "Well," she says finally, "If it lasts more than just a few days, I suggest you go chat with Jemma."

Peggy Carter has posed:
There is a very strange mix of emotions from Peggy about this stomach bug. Guilt. Denial. Hope. Suspicion. All of it mixed together with a heavy edge of exhaustion and stubborn determination to push through and simply work. She does hold May's gaze, brow slightly arched, waiting to see if the woman dares call her on it.

But then things are being easily swept aside. Peggy blinks once, dipping her head in quiet agreement to the suggestion of Jemma. "Daniel said the same thing. And... I... suppose I should. But she's busy and this isn't a great crisis. I will if matters don't resolve in a few days. I promise."

Melinda May has posed:
See... it's that weird combination of hope and suspicion that gets to May. Guilt? That's just Peggy being Peggy. Denial? Yeah. Same deal. She's always willing something not to be true. Melinda has learned this. But hope and suspicion together? On top of the others? That tells the old spy volumes. And given everything -- her own history, the Framework, the fact Peggy is playing it close to the chest...

May takes another sip of her tea, standing by her decision not to push. Except on one point: "See that you do. Preventative medicine works best if you actually follow through with it when there *isn't* a crisis. That's why they call it *preventative*."

Peggy Carter has posed:
There is one moment where Peggy might just be able to see it behind May's eyes, the fact the woman has already put some pieces together. Her own gaze narrows questioningly, but she shakes it off and looks back down to her tea to finish what is left in the mug with a good sip. Instead, May is getting a firm smirk from her friend.

"Yes, Commander. Absolutely, Commander. How could I have forgotten?" She asks with a little wink and a grin to follow it up. She's not being terse about it. She really is amused. And the care behind May's statements brings an extra warmth from her that might feel quite nice over what bits of empathy the woman keeps in play. "In truth... I've missed you. You should come by the house soon. We'll get Quon's. Just... relax a little, now that the world isn't actively trying to kill us?"

Melinda May has posed:
Melinda watches the questions play over Peggy's face and the watches her push it away. Her lips twitch slighly, pulling faintly to one side. But then her friend is taking the mickey out of her and she chuckles. "See that you don't," she chides, all in the same mein as her friend

"I've missed you, too," she admits. "I've just had a lot on my plate. Phil's... up to his usual. So, I've been keeping an eye on him." There's fondness in her tone as she says it. Less administrative concern, more the experience of an old friend. "I'd be happy to come by the house sometime. Though, one of these days, we should get out to Quon's for an actual evening. Wendy was asking me how you were doing, now that things are settled. I told her you were busy as ever. She assumes that means you're happy."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Oh... well, maybe some night this week? As soon as this bug passes. Unless the world starts coming down on us again, I think we can both get out of here at a reasonable hour some night, hmm? Thursday, perhaps? And I promise, if this hasn't passed, I'll see Jemma before then." She means it too, but by the look on her features, May is accurate about how busy she's been.

"But...until then, we both have work, I'm certain. And staring at this muffin isn't helping at all." Peggy folds what is left up in the wrapper, willing to take it to her office at least. She then unfolds from the table with a long stretch. "Thank you for taking breakfast with me. The company...Helped."

Melinda May has posed:
Melinda rises to her feet, her muffin gone but some of her tea still left. "Anytime," she says. She means it, too.

But they're in the middle of the commissary, so she won't give Peggy a hug. It wouldn't do either of their reputations any good. "Thursday sounds good. We'll make it a surprise for her." Because,that way, if they cancel, Wendy won't be disappointed.

She gives her friend a gentler look, adding finally. "Take care of yourself, Peggy." But the chief's right. There's work waiting for them both.