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Peggy Carter (margaretc) wrote,

Peggy had been in her share of tight spots over the years. But there was something about getting shot at behind enemy lines in the dead of night with a civilian pilot (even a damn excellent one) that had a way of making a girl's stomach tie itself up in knots. Or at least that's what she told herself as she stood frozen in the plane's open doorway, watching as Captain Rogers' parachute rapidly disappear into the darkness below them. She had no doubts that he would rescue the members of the 107th once he hit the ground. Her concern was for the possibility of his parachute being ripped to shreds before he got there.

"He's clear," she called back, and her knotted stomach lurched when Howard swung the nose of the plane up. She reached out and heaved the door closed, then threw the bolt back into place. She didn't dare let out a sigh of relief - not yet - not with the plane bobbing and darting its way though enemy fire. The floor swayed beneath her as she picked her way carefully across the plane and deposited herself into a seat, her hands moving automatically to tether her in place with straps and buckles. "Tell you what, Stark - get us on the ground safely and fondue's on me."