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Peggy Carter (margaretc) wrote,

As Howard started to unbuckle his seatbelt, she moved up to join him in the cockpit. "On it." There was no need for chatter or fretting. Howard was a skilled mechanic, and she knew her way around a flight deck. She had her tenure in the SAS to thank for that. Once he had cleared the seat, Peggy slid into place and hastily fastened the safety belt. Her hands curled comfortably around the steering wheel, her rigid posture the only indicator that she was under stress.

Her attention narrowed into a pinpoint, focused on the task at hand. Check fight path, ensure sky is clear of enemy planes, eye the gages and levels. The sound of the droning alarm faded, boxed away in the back of her mind. She inhaled slowly, held her breath for a second, and then let it issue out in one long, quiet sigh. Like a valve siphoning off excess pressure. The comfortable rhythm of piloting consumed her attention while Howard tinkered for those few minutes. She never would have considered the interior of a bomber plane to be quiet, but the sudden absence of alarms made it feel practically cathedral. Thank God. She took a moment to twist in the seat and saw him huddled over the exposed engine, apparently trying to connect a cable.

"I'm good. Our flight path is clear," she shouted back as she swiveled around to pay attention to the controls. The other planes had fallen far enough behind that they were no longer a threat. Their biggest concern was now making sure they stayed aloft until they wanted to touch down. The situation would be even more considerably improved once she could be sure that Howard hadn't just severed the wire that powered the alarms to buy him time to think in peace. "You need anything?"