8854/A Bit of British Business

A Bit of British Business
Date of Scene:	28 November 2021
Location:	Chief Carter's Office: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Martin and Jonathan update Peggy on the vast amount of trouble they've been getting up to lately.
Cast of Characters:	Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims, Peggy Carter

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Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin had filed a report on the situation concerning the 0-8-4: 083. Jon had given the Chief an equally cryptic report on the fact that John Constantine, a known commodity in the area of New York, had been replaced by a doppleganger for an unspecified period of time. It was only natural that the pair of them had been called to the Chief's office for any measure of further debriefing that the woman needed concerning both matters

    Still, while he likes the Chief well enough and trusts her with his life. She was still rather intimidating, being a living legend nearing the century mark with the looks of someone who is his peer. He shifts uncomfortably as he nears the door to her office and gives Jon a look he hopes is confident. "It will be fine. She just might need some more information. Both reports were rather serious in their subject matter after all. Right?" He hopes his voice didn't give away his nerves as much as he thinks they did.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I should probably tell her about this business with death maybe being broken or death gods still having issues or... whatever's going on, anyhow. And of course there's the business with the ravens." They've been busy, is the point. Jon frowns as they approach the office; he's never really comfortable talking to his bosses, but he'll just have to swallow that and carry on.

    At least his arm isn't still in a sling.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Come in!" Peggy calls gently, as the security camera alerts her that they've approached the front of her office door. It's unlocked, as it normally is during working hours. Even if most people don't work on the weekends, she's spent this one catching up on thing while her husband has been out of town on a mission. She is a bit more casual for the time of evening and day of the week, her suit jacket off and over the back of her chair. From the height of her when she stands, she's probably not in her high heels either. She has a pot of ginger tea half drank on her desk and her hair is pulled back instead of it's careful vintage waves.

"Agent Blackwood, Agent Sims... come in. I've got hot water on for more tea, should you wish some. I'm glad you could take a bit of time out in your various jet setting. From... what I've heard, you've both been incredibly busy." She comments with a curiously arched brow.

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin enters and gives a cordial smile to the Chief. "Yes... things of late have been... well... hectic would be putting it lightly" he gives in response. "I apologize for the... extended nature of my report, were there more issues with it that you wished to discuss or...."

    He glances at Jon, wondering if their call had been for him instead and Martin, as his psudo-chaperone was there by formality. "I mean... unless..." His nerves are getting the better of him and he tugs at the collar of his light blue shirt, grateful for the fact that he didn't wear a tie today--some allowances had to be given for a Sunday, after all.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon never wears ties. Not ever, unless he's absolutely forced to and there's just no way around it without some kind of major faux pax. He'd very nearly take a demotion first--and let's /not/ examine the internal reasons for that too closely, hmm? So he looks fairly everyday in his suit and button down, though he fiddles with his cuffs a moment as they step in.

    "Nature of the beast, from what I can tell, Chief Carter," he replies. He carries himself a bit differently than he did a month ago when they'd first met, a little more confident or a little less hunched. Maybe both. "If an Archivist /isn't/ busy, it seems we find ways to be so." He glances to Martin and then back. "Tea would be lovely, thank you."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"There is ginger made, it's rather strong, just a warning, or we can do something black if you need the energy." Peggy offers to them both, apparently having sworn off her usual preference of gunpowder black, though there is still a tin of it sitting on her cart. She takes one more pour from the pot, so her cup is refreshed before she pours out the rest, should one of them want it.

She then gently motions them into the chairs across her desk, "Sit, sit. Goodness, both of you look like you have been called to the Headmistress' office. I simply wanted to touch base to see any progress that has been made from those two rather... Long reports, and see if you have a plan for getting that 084 out of Zatanna's hands, considering the risks there." Peggy will go about making them whichever tea they want.

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin perks at the offer for ginger tea, "Oh, ginger is lovely, thank you" he says as he takes a seat. Perhaps the offer for good tea is enough to calm his nerves with the woman in charge and then he sighs his mouth forming into a tight line. "No progress, unfortunately ma'am. I am hoping next time I see her *or* Mr. Drake in a setting that allows for such discussion that we can find an amicable result in retreival and containment once again."

    He is quite put out by the fact that despite his original containment on the nature of 0-8-4: 083, the woman he agreed to trust the matter with decided that revealing it's purpose and placement had been absolutely normal and perfectly fine. "Hopefully we can get a list of those who constitute a breach of containment..." he sighs again. "I would rather not have to administer amnestics to the entire Eastern Seaboard of the United States..." The causalness with which he says such a daunting task is downright depressing.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon makes a bit of a face at 'Headmistress' Office' and prudently decides /not/ to point out how often he /was/ called there for things like smoking on school grounds. Instead, as he sits down, he says, "I have a list, and thus far it's... four people long. Four too many, by my count, but..." He shakes his head. "Tim wasn't happy when I told him about it, either, but with everything /else/ that's been going on, it's been hard to find the time. I honestly think she just... intended to bring in help, and wasn't thinking about the potential consquences." He sighs. "Ginger would be wonderful, yes, thank you."

    Then he looks at Martin for a moment, then back to Peggy. "There's... potentially worse than that going on," he notes. "Have you heard about the ravens disappearing from the Tower?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
The rest of the ginger tea is poured out into a mug for Martin and one for Jonathan. True to her word, it's sharp and biting with just a hint of honey sweetness to it, but this is a tea that is made to be medicinal as much as anything else. Perhaps odd that Peggy's chosen to drink it now. She doesn't sound to have a cold at all. She then fully settles down into har chair, a frown tugging at her lips, "Agent Blackwood, with the... report you gave, I don't think this is something you should simply wait for the next time you see someone. You need to make an appointment with one or both of them as immediately as possible and get that matter contained. You are worried about it being contaminating, are you not? Every hour you waste are others that could be influenced..." Peggy's voice is stern, but only with professional coaching, not disappointment. Not yet.

And then Jonathan comments about worse. She blinks as he clarifies. She may have been in the US quite a long time now, but Peggy is still British to her core. "...W-what? What about the ravens? I'd say that is a silly old myth but... I think we know very few things are silly myths in our world."

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin had just taken a sip when the stern professional coaching comes through. "Oh... of course. Yes, Chief Carter... I... apologize. It's more a matter of the setting not adding to the contamination. I will see to it that I insist on a private meeting." He swallows and takes another sip. It's really quite nice despite the somewhat medicinal state of it. He does give the woman a curious look though before he adds in regard to her speculation.

    "It is far from myth, Chief and... well..." He nods to Jon, letting the man take point on the audio report of this matter, he is the more aware of the mystical nature of the matter after all.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "It's not a myth," Jon states firmly and quite bluntly. "Few of those things are, I've been finding. There are six ravens left, and they're mystically bound together, and to the Ravenmaster, by spells at least a thousand years old. We were called along with a group of others--Martin and I called in a /dream/--to come investigate. That's where we were last night, gathering information and touring the grounds." He sighs. "We're still working through the data, researching... it could be anything from dragons to faeries to aliens to, well, I've heard hints there was some kind of problem with the Morrigan a few months ago when the Underworld was in turmoil. Maybe it's that." He does seem a /lot/ less skittish about it all than he had a month ago. Maybe he's been getting more sleep.

    He eyes Peggy as he finally takes a sip of the tea, curiously. He smiles--he likes ginger tea--but there's still that speculative air as he considers the woman.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Oh hell..." Peggy breathes out, as the deeper bit of information on the Ravens is given. She leans back in her desk chair, dragging one free hand down her face as she debates just how deep SHIELD should be in about this. She then reaches for her tea, letting the familiar scent and warm mug simply nurse between her fingertips. "Well, if you both were called to this matter, then I suppose it's another mission in your laps. But, if you need more... Back up, I would not mind taking a trip to the old country. It's been a very long time and I won't see my home falling because I wasn't willing to put more agents in the field. Whatever you need, much like the 084, ask. I'll get you the resources.

"Her head tilts in question about the underworld, brows furrowing as she gazes between them, "And how much should I be concerned over this underworld matter? Have you spoken at all with Dr. Foster about it? I believe she had some... vague idea of the issues." Peggy is quite pointedly ignoring that speculative stare from Jonathan, to the point that she might be avoiding his eyes while she focuses on the work at hand.

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin blinks as the Chief offers herself as backup. "Oh... I... well, having you along for future matters would..." he seems taken aback by the sudden offer. "I mean... I don't think either of us would be..." he looks at Jon, bewilderment plain on his face.

    He tries to allow Jon to give his own feelings on the matter as well as the situation concerning death's broken state by taking another long sip of the tea, ignoring the strong bite of the ginger within. It's nothing compared to being offered a chance to work directly with Chief Carter!

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon blinks at Martin for a moment, raising his eyebrows. Then he laughs softly. "Oh... I think you flustered him, Chief. Have you gotten her autograph yet?" He's teasing. Gently.

    Maybe because he doesn't want to think about the other business.

    He sighs, then. "I didn't know Dr. Foster knew anything about that whole business," he says. "I..." He rubs at his temple. "The, ahh, demonic version of Constantine I reported on? It gave me a statement, about a trip to the Underworld. Between that and the statements it gave my grandmother... well, I have a decent list of people that I'm contacting about going back down there." He says it quite as if it's a foregone conclusion. He's going to the Underworld, and that's that. "Commander May was on there, actually, along with the Sorceror Supreme, but I haven't had a chance to make an appointment with the former and I don't know the latter."

    He frowns, thoughtfully. "As for how much you should be worried...? I'm not certain. Something's still broken, there's still some kind of problem with the gods of death, but I'm not even entirely clear on what the problem was to begin with, so..."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A slow brow arches towards Martin, though the smile that follows it is both amused and a touch pleased. "When I took the job of Chief after returning from cryofreeze, I took it on the one stipulation that it didn't chain me to a desk 100 percent of the time. I'm an excellent Director and Chief. I might be an even better agent. I miss being in the field and if there is a way I can help with the clearly overwhelming amount of work that has fallen into your laps, I will. So yes, hopefully, we will be able to work in the field together sometime soon as well." She grins to the man before hiding that slightly self satisifed look behind a good sip of her tea.

Then she's looking back to the Archivist, her smile falling as she considers the bits and pieces she's heard about the underworld. "I could be wrong, but I think Dr. Foster was, at least... slightly affected by it. I would like more *information*, if nothing else. It sounds like that isn't priority right now, as strange as it sounds, but keep me updated. And... Constantine -- he... He's himself again? You are certain?" There is an odd bit of concern there. A fondness of him that Peggy doesn't show for many. Are they actually... Friends??

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin gives Jon a look. He isn't *that* far gone on the Peggy Carter fanclub wagon... close, but not quite. He sips more of his tea and then frown at the implication that this death situation *isn't* a priority. The fact that Dr. Foster is involved is news... and perhaps at least one avenue that he can take before they get too far afield with the business with the ravens. He knows Jon is terrified of the entire matter, despite his confidence.

    He arches a brow as he catches the fondness, does Constantine know literally everyone? The connections that man has made boggles Martin, especially since he himself is one of them.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon nods. "I'm gathering information, for now. I'm not going to plunge on down into the lands of the dead without as much research as I can reasonably muster. I'm sure we'll be glad to have you along for that or any other mission, Chief." He sips his tea.

    "Constantine... is himself again, yes," he says quietly. "The demon's still at large, but he's... back to normal." A smirk. "As normal as he ever is. He's been dealing with the fallout of a demon living his life for the past few months There's an issue in Hell's Kitchen that I've offered to help Agent Pezzini look into, actually, a series of likely supernatural murders, so I imagine he'll be busy enough shortly." He sighs heavily. It never rains but it pours.

    "I think, besides that and Nilaa... you were sending in a report about that, right, Martin?" He laughs softly. "We really /have/ been busy. Oh! And I made contact with a costumed vigilante group in Gotham. One of them, ahh, saved me from imprisonment in Arkham the other night."

    He stops, suddenly, pulls off his glasses, pinches the bridge of his nose. "Did my grandmother get up to this much or am I just making up for lost time? Saying it all like this it sounds /ridiculous./"

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg stares hard at Jon as he rambles out about being imprisoned in Arkham, her eyes going a little wide. "...Jonathan Sims. You were imprisoned and didn't put THAT in a report? Bloody hell." She shakes her head, staring back at Martin with a mix of expasperation and slight amusement, "I'd ask if he's always like this again, but now I know the answer. How is your heart, Martin? How do you manage this amount of coronaries that I'm certain he gives you, hm?" Peggy shakes her head slowly once more, still a little in awe over it all.

"Your grandmother was... busy. Not *this* busy. It does seem you are making up for lost time. I recommend trying to slow down when you can. We can reassign some priorities, if it's becoming too much. I'll see who else can look into the underworld. Let Sara take more of the research on that other case. Stop. Take a breath, on occasion. Or you will burn yourself out. Both of you."

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin shrugs a shoulder at the Chief's concern. "I... think I am earning back some of my own medicine with his involvement in all this, Cheif" he says, giving Jon a fond smile.

    "And..." the smile drops a bit. "I don't think he *can* burn out Chief. The Archivist--as I understand it--is supposed to record and get involved with anything it can and... I have accepted my place at his side. We'll be alright, Chief..." he says, looking back at the woman. "Better activity than boredom and idleness, right?" he asks, looking more chipper than he has any right to be given the amount of danger involved in all their activities.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "It was only fifteen hours," Jon says, looking guilty. "And I was fine! It was a trap, for one of those costumed vigilantes. They sprung the trap, it was all connected to my old boss, back when I used to work there... I'd thought of it as a personal matter." Yes, being imprisoned in Arkham for /fifteen hours/ is personal. Sure. "I will... remember to send in a report, should it happen again." At least he didn't say 'next time' as if that was a foregone conclusion.

    He sighs. "Martin's right, in his way. The Underworld business... I /have/ to go down there. It was driving me a bit 'round the bend, actually, until I got it sorted out what I was looking for. The Bayt al-Hikmah." His tone has gone reverent. "The House of Wisdom. The final resting place of the Great Library of Baghdad, one of the finest institutes of learning in history, now the place where all lost knowledge is kept, where every unknown secret is hidden. The gods want me to go there, so... I will go, when the time is right."

    He hesitates, then adds, "I... wanted to thank you, actually, Chief, for taking a chance on me. I'm pacing myself better than I was before--I'm actually /sleeping/--and training's been going well despite a few bumps." The fact of his broken arm was in the medical record, though it's not even in a sling and that was only a couple of weeks ago. "I'm only consulting with Pezzini on the case. My focus right now is the 084s and the Tower business, but Martin's right--if I don't have anything to do I'll /find/ something to do. That's why I wound up in Arkham--I went down a stupid research rabbit hole and got someone's attention. Better that whatever's keeping me busy is important and halfway official."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Listening to all this gets a thoughtful, quiet look from Peggy. She doesn't response at first, processing how earnest they both seem about things. It makes her swallow back her initial worry and, finally, she gives them a quiet nod. "Well then, I'm... glad. I've trusted Martin as an excellent agent for a while now and his recommendation is proving to have turned out quite well. You clearly both make a good team, care about the organization, and the world. That's all I can ask of anyone... I mean, sleeping, eating, and keeping up your certs aside." Peggy's smile goes a little wry and teasing with that last little bit.

"Keep the reports coming. If there is a time you need another set of expert hands, tell me. I'll do everything I can to be there myself, or get the right agent for the job. Truth is... I miss going into the field, and I should do so while I can... while things are quiet here, you know. I'm just collecting mold behind this desk."

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin smiles and nods. "Of course, Chief" he replies, the smile turning more into a beam with her emphasized suggestion of joining them in the field. "We're nothing if not thorough in our processes. The information on Nilaa might be a bit... far fetched, but I will endeavor to couch it in as much sense as I can manage."

    He is rather proud of his reports and the praise from the Chief on the detail in them was enough to keep them coming. He looks at Jon for a moment and asks, "Further thoughts?" he wants to make sure that Jon manages to cover all the bases this time around.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon actually sits there for a long moment, thinking. Making sure he hasn't missed anything. "None that come to mind," he says finally. "If you like, I could write my firm view as a mental health professional that you should get out in the field for the sake of your sanity, before--"

    He stops, and his cheeks darken. "I, ahh. Well. I mean... ahem. That is. You know. Before, ahh... anything /changes/ in your life." He shakes his head and stares into his cup. "Oh, good one, Jon," he mutters.

Peggy Carter has posed:
While Peggy was just about to dismiss them both, Jon's last statement is enough to make her double take. The smile on her face is a little too forcibly neutral and trying to be confused, but she's not a good liar to a therapist. Not when it's about something that she doesn't really care to lie about. And watching Jon stumbling over his own words gets a quiet, throaty laugh from her. "...And just what would change in my life, Dr. Sims? I mean, I would appreciate recommendations to get into the field, but I think I can rather handle myself about the matter."

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin is no telepath and he blinks at Jon and then at the Chief. Clearly *something* was up, but just what that something was isn't readily apparent to his own eyes. "Umm... am I missing something?" he asks, still looking between the pair.

    The glint in his eye makes it clear that he's sniffing out a mystery and getting very intrigued by the very thought of it. There is an almost feral aspect to his detective-leaning mind.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Well, nothing that... I mean..." Jon rubs at his face. "I'm sorry," he says. "I... presume you were keeping it quiet, it's just quite... well... I hate to say you /glow/ because that's terribly cliche, but you /do/, and between that and the ginger tea..."

    He shakes his head. "I'm certainly not implying... whatever changes you may or may not make are up to you, of course. But, ahh, congratulations are in order, I believe."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The Chief stares patiently at Jonathan, waiting for the man to spill whatever he's been thinking. She looks more amused than anything, but Martin's question gets a slight clearing of her throat. She looks down into the mug of nearly finished ginger tea and asks with lofted brows, "Is it really that obvious? Yes, we'd been planning on keeping things quiet... For the first few months, at least. You know how these things go." Or maybe they don't, but it makes sense to Peggy.

Her eyes then focus on Martin, just in case he didn't pick up on the implication. "Daniel and I are... expecting. I somehow suspect Jonathan is exagerating the glowing part, but I would rather like to get into the field before things become too uncomfortable to do so." Then it's back to Jonathan, "And thank you. For the congratulations. Do be certain to keep your lips shut, though, for the moment?"

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin's eyes go wide. "Oh my god!" he says with a gasp. "Oh... congratulations!" he exclaims, blushing and looking truly, genuinely happy. He looks at his teacup and the pieces fall into place.

    "I... I had no idea... for what it's worth..." he gives Jon a look of mock annoyance. "He cheats, I swear." He smiles then and nods at her insistence on discretion. "Oh, of course. Not a word. It's not ours to tell and..." he adds, "we'll certainly see if we can find a way to get you out into the field before... well..." he gestures at his own stomach. "You know..."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I do not /cheat/," Jon gripes, then frowns. "Well. Perhaps I do, but it's not... on /purpose/. I just see things, I can't help it."

    He smiles to Peggy. "Oh, yes, certainly we'll keep mum." Is that a pun? That might be a pun. "Though I suspect Martin will start knitting tiny jumpers regardless." He eyes his husband, fondly, though there's an undercurrent of sadness in his tone. "Pass on our best wishes to your husband as well? It's... well, I adopted Martin's daughter, but it's... a wonderful experience. We really do wish you the best."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Martin's genuine happiness for her brings a softer, but somehow more earnest smile to Peggy's features. It's the sort of smile that draws slight lines in around her eyes, wider and more real than she shows almost anyone. Whether this was a surprise or not, the older woman seems happy to celebrate with a FEW trusted people that know. "Thank you... both of you. Truly. It... I... It's a long story and was a bit of a surprise. But not a poor one. And I hope you both get to take a break and meet Daniel soon. I know he'd love to have you over for dinner."

The comment about jumpers and the edge of sadness behind Jon's tone gets a slightly curious look from her. "Jumpers won't go amiss. And I will pass along the best wishes. Daniel... he didn't get a chance to do this the first time around. I'm glad he's going to have the opportunity now. I mean it about dinner. When matters are settled in London, you make room for us, yes? Otherwise, you are both dismissed." Peggy still isn't good at talking about her self at length. Even if the conversation is ending on a nice note.