9074/After Dinner...

After Dinner...
Date of Scene:	14 December 2021
Location:	Apartment 4D - Blooming Lotus Trading Co. Building
Synopsis:	May and Peggy share an emotional, honest conversation over some floral tea in May's apartment. Peggy asks her an important question.
Cast of Characters:	Melinda May, Peggy Carter

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Melinda May has posed:
May unlocks the door to the apartment and palms a sensor hidden just inside the door to disarm the alarm. "C'mon in," she tells Peggy with a smile. She steps in toward the kitchen. "Tea?" she asks. "I'd offer something stronger, but..." Yeah. That's not happening. "I picked up a blend that's supposed to taste like icewine. I haven't tried it yet. It smells more fruity to me than anything else. So, if you'd prefer the usual black or green, that's fine."

There is a nod to Christmas in the livingroom -- generally seen in the form of a small tabletop tree that's taken up about a quarter of the table at the end of the couch. That is, however, about the only nod to the holiday she's put out.

At least it's something.

Peggy Carter has posed:
When May offered a bit more time together and coming back to her apartment, Peggy was pleasantly surprised. Without work overwhelming both of them and running off on dangerous, hair brained missioned, Peggy almost feels like they haven't spent as much time together. So, feeling that gentle exhaustion or not, she eagerly agreed to coming back. "The ice wine tea sounds... like an adventure, at least. I'm up for a try. At worst, we make a second pot. And yes, as much as I'd like to take you up on something stronger..." Peggy gives a bit of an accepting shrug. She knows the rules. Nowadays better than they did the last time she did this.

Dark eyes flicker around the room, the sight of the table top tree drawing a warmer smile across her lips. "Oh hell, you're more ready for the holiday than I am already..." Peggy confesses as she steps the rest of the way into the room and pulls off her wool coat to hang up near the door.

Melinda May has posed:
Melinda runs the water to fill the kettle, then plugs it in. This apartment doesn't come with gas. So, it's an electric kettle. She pulls down a couple of mugs and sets them out, along with two fine mesh teabags filled with the fragrant blend. Maybe it's not a looseleaf strainer, but the mesh indicates it's not a cheap, massmarket blend, either. She does have standards.

As the water slowly begins to heat, she comes out into the living room. It's only a few steps between the two, anyway. She'll hear the kettle when it's ready, regardless. "I bought it on a whim at the grocery store last weekend," she admits. "It was at the end of an aisle and came with both the lights and the decorations."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"It's sweet. God... I know Daniel and I *had* a tree in that basement. Somewhere. If our prisoner or the moths haven't entirely destroyed it. I should try to find the energy to get the thing out... " Peggy admits to herself with a tired smirk. Good ideas, she doesn't seem to have much faith that she'll actually find the energy to do it.

She then politely slips out of her high heels, not wanting to track the city all over May's apartment, before she heads over to the couch to settle in and tuck her legs beneath her. She's looking just a bit softer nowadays than she did before, part of it having put back on the last bits of weight lost in the Framework, part probably other circumstances. "If you felt like coming over and helping us haul the thing out, you'd be welcome, you know? Or just for dinner. Or simply to get out of the city."

Melinda May has posed:
"You and Daniel had what is now an antique tree that's been in a basement for half a century," Melinda replies, moving the tray off that storage chest to pull out a fluffy, cream-coloured, knit throw -- which she promptly tosses to land in Peggy's lap. There's already a red one with a nubby, faux-sheepskin underside on her chair, so she just closes up the chest again. "You really should consider splurging on something new. They're on sale, right now."

There's a fondness in her tone, regardless. A gentle ribbing. "Your antique decorations will look lovely on it, I'm sure." Yes. Definitely teasing, now. Even so, she nods. "I could do that. Just let me know when." Like any of them have time? Perhaps they can sacrifice next Friday's dinner for it. May will bring the Chinese food to them.

She, however, has not regained much in the way of softness. Her body is all lean lines and fighting form. Only her face shows much in the way of softness -- and that's purely because of the natural softening of age.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The commentary about her tree brings a mock affronted look to Peggy's features, her back straightening and shoulders squaring even as she does take that blanket and drapes it across her legs. "I have a family *heirloom* that's been sitting in a basement storage closet for half a century, thank you very much! We bought that in 1952 and it barely got a chance to do it's job! No reason to put it out to pasture NOW!" Peggy insists, clearly half teasing, but now she's got the idea under her skin. Chances are she's going to try and drag the thing out this week.

"Let's... if you are up to coming to the house next week, you can bring the chinese there, and I'll have pulled the tree out and made a end-of-tree-life decision by then. Either way, we can decorate. Spend the night. Daniel will cook breakfast. It...it'd be nice to have you. Really." Her tone softens a bit with that, a brush of earnest hope behind it. For all her care for Melinda, she wasn't all that good at *making* friends. She's still trying to figure out how to repair this one.

Melinda May has posed:
"I can do that," Melinda agrees. Really, it's not like Peggy has done anything to damage their friendship at all. Not purposely, certianly. Melinda simply has some things she needs to sort out for herself. A lot of tangled emotions that, thanks to her gifts, she can no longer ignore.

She gives her friend a smile, feeling that hope and the concern that underlies it, but pushing the emotions away for the simple reason they're not hers. "I'll bring the food," she tells her. "Spare Daniel cooking dinner." She may not stop at Quon's, since the Triskelion is up in Salem and Chinatown is nowhere near the route between there and Long Island. Doesn't matter. She knows what to look for and where the quality can be found. It's valuable information in her world.

Peggy Carter has posed:
While the emotions aren't her's, and Peggy is fairly good at keeping wild amounts of emotions off her very British face, May will probably feel the flush of warmth, relief, and quiet joy that comes in response to May agreeing to come for the night. For all they've been through, Peggy does treasure her company even OUTSIDE of the Triskelion. May isn't just an excellent Commander. She's the woman's best friend. "Excellent. And I'm sure Daniel will appreciate he night off. I've been working him over time between commuting back to the house, pickiness about food, and still keeping our day jobs."

Peg then settles back a bit deeper into the couch, relaxing beneath the warmth of that throw and letting herself drop all the pretenses of professionalism that she generally wears with agents. "How's your head, by the way? Managing the new... powers and the like? Has anything settled at all?"

Melinda May has posed:
"Are you telling me I'm going to have to find pickle ice cream for dessert? Because, really? I've never understood that craving." Of course, Melinda's never been pregnant, either. Not in reality.

But she remembers the Framework. The fetus she... lost.

As the kettle begins to boil, she returns to the kitchen to make the tea. It's not like it actually interrupts the conversation, insofar as she can still hear and be heard in such a small space. It does, however, conceal her face nicely. "Managing well enough," she replies. It's not a lie. She hasn't had any sort of strange episodes after all -- not at work, certainly. And she's living here in the middle of Chinatown where there are hundreds of people packed into the football field's worth of space around her small apartment. "I haven't gone crazy yet." Nor does she expect to. Not any more than she already is. Besides, she's very good at anger management... and turning it into emotional regulation.

She brings the tea out to her friend. "I'm fine, Peggy. Really."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A little groan escapes her lips at the pickle comment, "No, no, I'm not quite that bad off. Though pickles are delicious, I do not know that I'd put them in ice cream. Matcha, on the other hand, if we want green ice cream." Of course, now that she's said it, Peggy *is* rather craving that. The earthy, not too sweet flavor. "Mm. That might actually be an idea." She grins to the woman, following it with a little shrug. She can't entirely regulate what her stomach wants nowadays.

When the woman returns with the tea, her eyes flicker up, studying May's features just a bit longer. Peggy knows she's left a fair amount unsaid, and the concern behind her own gaze (not to mention that constant, gentle spill of emotions to the other woman) proves it. But Peggy doesn't push. "I... I know you're *fine*. Functional, at least. Good at your job. That's different from being *good* over all and I know... well, I know I can't fix it. I just wish I could... help. Somehow."

Melinda May has posed:
"Matcha," Melinda repeats, giving a small smile and moving to sit down in her usual spot. She draws the red throw over her knees and holds her mug on her lap, letting it continue to steep. It's quite fragrant with a hint of floral but definitely fruity -- not unlike the bouquet of a decent wine. "I'll see what I can do."

She shakes her head and pulls some hair away from her face. "The only thing that will help is time." A beat. A dry snirk. "Preferably without the jackbooted timecops." She remembers those, even if she doesn't remember much else beyond that fight on the space station with the Red Skull. "My abilities are... stronger than they were. More stable. But that means I pick up a lot more, too. I just need time to sort them out."

Peggy Carter has posed:
When May says that *time* will help, there is a flash of frustration from Peggy. Not at May, but at the stubborn flow of time and her own impatience. And something specific too. A spark of an idea and hope that is abruptly killed when May asks for time. Peggy takes a breath, trying to put it out of her head as she gives her friend a more quiet smile, her hands nursed around that warm mug of tea. The sweetness is a lot, but she doesn't seem put off by it. She just enjoys inhaling it, trying to let it relax her in her own frustrations.

"Well... time I can give you, but I can't promise *space*. I've missed you. You're my best friend and I'm tired of walking on egg shells around that. Life is moving on and I want you *in it*, not hiding away waiting for your brain to right itself. I know that's... selfish of me. But I'd rather be honest with you than sitting over here pretending I don't miss you."

Melinda May has posed:
"Then don't," Melinda says, perhaps surprisingly. But she's always been one to prefer a head-on approach. "I'm tired of you walking around on eggshells." She snirks softly. "You forget. I feel everything you're feeling. The kid gloves are driving me crazy. It's easier to stay away than it is to deal with that."

She sips her tea to allow her thoughts time to focus. The taste of the it, remarkably enough, isn't actually very sweet at all. The bouquet certainly is, but the taste itself is earthy and robust without being bitter. There's something about it that says it should lean toward being a chai, but it lacks the spice and sharpness of that flavouring.

"I'm tired, Peggy," she says finally, cup between her fingertips. "I feel old. I'm not ready to retire, but I need something to fight. Something that's not shuffling paper and building teams."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Well, fine. I won't." Peggy states flatly, just as relieved to be able to put away the delicate worry that she's been trying to manage. It's not good for either of them. She then takes a longer sip of the tea, surprise flickering through her emotions at how not-sweet it is, but that's a good think. She likes it more than she thought she would. She takes a second sip of it and then sets the mug down before shifting to face Melinda as fully as she can from her position on the couch.

"I...can't find trouble for you. I can give full permission for you to pick up the hunt against what is left of HYDRA more active. Get the last scraps of them. Put a team together and go. If that will make you happier, it needs done and I trust you to do it. But... I also want yout help otherwise. I..." Peggy takes a breath. She's just going to say it, even if she's been toying over this for weeks. "...Would you be this baby's godmother?"

Melinda May has posed:
Now *that* actually takes Melinda by surprise. It shouldn't. After all, she was Auntie to Peggy's children in the Framework. But it does, nonetheless. "I--" It brings back a flood of virtual memories, some good, many not so much. It also pulls on some of those wounds that have been opened over the past several weeks.

She closes her eyes for a moment, to push away so much of that, to dwell instead on Peggy's hope and relief, since they're far more palatable emotions to process. Pulling in a breath that allows her to focus, she finally gives a small nod, allowing an equally small smile to touch her lips. "Of course," she says, opening her eyes to look at her friend. "Of course, I will." It doesn't stop the flood of emotions she's going to have to deal with. But it's not a request she can easily deny.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg might not be an empath, but she is a profiler. She knows May. She can see that horrid mix of a thousand subtle, swallowed back emotions in the smallest microexpressions on her friend's features. Part of it breaks her heart. Peggy knew this would be a painful ask, even as Melinda told her to stop walking on eggshells. She was possibly not entirely prepared for just how painful.

"Now... if you want to take time to think about it, you can. I know I sprung this rather... quickly. And maybe I should have waited a few more months to be sure... Well. Maybe I should have waited. But I didn't. You asked that I stop walking on eggshells, so I have. It doesn't mean you need to answer immediately. And *no* is... acceptable too. If it's too much, I... I'll understand. But I wanted to ask you first. So, I did. I won't regret that."

Melinda May has posed:
"I don't want to say 'no'," Melinda tells her. Her voice is thick and she sets her cup aside so she doesn't spill it. "But a little more time would be good." She rises to her feet, tossing the throw aside, needing to move. But all that does is lead her to sit by Peggy's side, perching on the very edge of the couch cushion beside her.

"I'm thrilled for you and Daniel. Really. I am." She reaches out to lay a hand on Peggy's, which allows her to share some of her emotions in this moment. At the very least, it shares her honesty, the truth of her words, and the ache beneath them. She *is* pleased for Peggy and Daniel. That's no lie. But she's also in deep pain that the subtle ache she actually shares only hints at.

"I thought I put Bahrain behind me. Then there was Framework, and the baby I lost. The babies you lost. And we went through time. And I met a version of myself whose daughter was getting married. And then I literally went to Hell, where I had all of that heaped back on my head." Her dark eyes are glassy.

"I *want* to, Peggy. But you need to let me sit with it for a while, convince myself this isn't going to go horribly wrong, too... For all our sakes."

Peggy Carter has posed:
As May dares to let herself come sit next to Peggy, the older woman lets out a bit of the breath she'd been holding. Peggy doesn't reach for her tea again, but happily wraps her other hand overtop of May's, pressing her friend's palm between her own. Her emotions are a mix of love, respect, hope, and earnest understanding. When she says there is not pressure, she means it. Every last word she uttered was truth. She wants May to take the time she needs. The pad of her thumb rubs slowly up and down the back of Melinda's palm as she listens to those explanations.

"I... I know. I mean, I can't say that I know and understand *all* of it because I didn't go through what you did. But I've lost. I've... god, Melinda, I've held that hurt so close that it kept cutting me and if I didn't let go I'd still be bleeding. This might be... too fast. I know that. On every level too fast... But it's happened and I won't regret what little bits of happiness we can find in this life. Not after everything." Peggy squeezes her hand again. "But sit with it. Please. Do what you need. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere... the only thing I ask is you don't disappear either. Running from all of this is just going to make it worse for... for all of us."

Melinda May has posed:
May nods simply, a small, quick thing as she swallows down the emotions she doesn't want to spill out right now. Those things she's trying to keep from immobilizing her. Why they should all come out now -- so very many years after Bahrain was ever an issue -- she'll never know. But events have conspired against her, it seems.

It's no wonder she's tired.

She can't help, in the end, but give her friend a wry, self-mocking smile, with just a hint of reproach in it. "When I told you not to walk on eggshells, I didn't think you'd drop a bomb on me *quite* this quickly."

Peggy Carter has posed:
While May is fairly good at swallowing those emotions back, they're making skin contact. The pathway is open now. There's more bits and pieces that Peggy's picking up now, and Melinda is letting herself feel, than the woman has in years. "Hey. It's... it's alright to hurt. And be mad. And... mourn what might have been. It really is." Peggy insists quietly. And, while neither of them is exactly the hugging sort, sometimes it happens. Sometimes, when it really matters, that's what is needed. Unless May physically pulls away from her, Peggy tries to drag her down into a tight, close hug, both of them sprawled back on the couch, like they almost curl up together like that. If Melinda will dare let herself cry, Peggy's here. Holding on. Giving her space. Or if she breaks the hug, she can do that too. Peggy takes a moment to whisper into her hair, however, "You asked for full honesty. I... was honest. It's the least I can do for my best friend."

Melinda May has posed:
Melinda doesn't let herself cry, because once she starts she's not sure when she'll stop. "I know," she says, accepting the hug, nonetheless. "But that's why I need to fight something, Peggy." Aggression therapy. It's totally thing! Especially with Melinda May. Always has been.

At least this time she's not requesting a transfer to some backwater admin position and refusing to fight. She learned that lesson. (No, this time, she *wants* to fight.)

She eventually pulls from the hug, not being one to linger in that sort of thing -- neither of them really being the touchy-feely types. "I appreciate your honesty. I do." Also, it's not like Peggy asked her to do something *horrible*. Protecting a child *is* something Melinda will always willingly do. Above so many other things. "I'll be okay... Really." Once she's had a chance to hit things, of course.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg didn't expect the hug to last long, but she knows she's lucky, and trusted, that it was there at all. She gives Melinda's shoulders one last squeeze and then fully lets her go. She leans over to scoop up her tea once more, now that it's cool enough to easily drink, and takes a deep sip of the stuff while they both recompose themselves. She takes a slow, deep breath of the scent, centering her own emotions again as she considers her next words.

"I know you will be. And I know you need a fight. But you have to come home too, and help us put up that tree. And be a part of our lives as well. That... that's living as much as fighting is. You have to remember to do both." It's not an order, but it's close, coming from Peggy.

"But, for tonight, we'll finish this tea, have something sweet, and actually enjoy ourselves a bit before I drag myself all the way back to the island." She isn't going to push the hard talks further, not now. They can settle into more comfortable, idle conversation and perhaps some light planning against HYDRA. Their comfort talk.