InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Baby got back!"

but seriously there will be flying cars (_stark_) wrote,
@ 2014-08-17 23:17:00

Entry tags:

howard stark, peggy carter, test thread

Pre-Fondue Test Thread (Mid First Avenger, after Steve jumps)
All right, so things were not going precisely according to plan. That was okay. Or, it would be, so long as the plane continued to have wings and an engine. It was absolutely true what Peggy had said -- Howard was the "best civilian pilot around," but, unlike non-civilian pilots, his training hadn't been particularly thorough in the area of "dodging other planes' bullets." But they were still in the air! For now. So that was good.

"Is he clear?" he called back to Peggy, grunting softly as he turned the plane up to avoid an incoming missile. "Because if he is I highly recommend closing that damn door and strapping in. It's gonna be a little choppy for a while."

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margaretc
2014-08-19 02:45 am UTC (link)

Peggy only just managed to suppress the urge to roll her eyes when Howard called her Maggie, largely thanks to the fact that the plane's erratic flight path had her clinging on to the safety belt. Howard was undeniably a genius, dedicated to the cause, and had charm in spades, but there were times she longed to smack him upside the head. Her breath caught as a missile shook the cockpit. If the plane were a person, it would be groaning in pain by now. There was a moment of blessed silence and she exhaled sharply and offered a silent thanks to sturdy engineering. Which was quite likely also thanks in part to the pilot.

Her eyebrow arched when he turned in his seat to face her, her expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Only Howard. "Oh? Is there something wr---" her quip was interrupted by a very sudden and very loud repetitive warning buzz. She closed her eyes as she listened to the deep, droning alarm. "Please tell me that's not what I think it is." Maybe the allies had devised a 'congratulations, you're out of danger!' alarm. One that sounded like the ominous prelude to a neatly typed condolence letter.

And maybe pigs had finally learned how to fly.

She counted to three in her head and opened her eyes as the alarm continued unabated. "What do you need me to do?" she asked briskly as she unbuckled her safety straps and rose to her feet, one hand still hooked around a strap to maintain her balance in case of sudden nose dive.

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_stark_
2014-08-19 03:06 am UTC (link)

Howard had been half-expecting the warning bells, but he still swore under his breath when they started up. Fortunately, Maggie was genuinely the best person he knew to handle a crisis, and she was immediately up and out of her seat, volunteering her services. Which was exactly what he needed. No fuss, no panic. It was a shame that every woman couldn't be as useful.

He made sure the plane was flying straight and then unfastened his own seat belt. "I need you to fly the plane while I go fix it." He rummaged around under the seat and slipped out a sleek, standard-issue tool box. He moved away from the seat, allowing her to take his place. "I'll be back."

He headed to where the engine was sputtering in its tiny room, and only once he was there did it occur to him that perhaps he should've asked if Maggie knew what she was doing. He pushed the thought from his head quickly, though. Of course she did. She was trained in everything. Basic piloting had to be on the list.

Opening the engine, Howard fiddled around with the tools, pushing wires around until he found the damaged coil. He pursed his lips. They'd hit the cooling system, as he suspect. But maybe if he could reroute the intercooler...

A few precious minutes ticked by as he tinkered, but the alarm soon abated. "You good?" he yelled back to her as he struggled to hold the cable in place.

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margaretc
2014-08-20 12:07 am UTC (link)

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?"

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_stark_
2014-08-20 12:25 am UTC (link)

"Just keep smiling, Maggie!" Howard called. Despite the danger, the tiniest of smirks lingered on his lips. She was not smiling, Howard was sure, but that was beside the point. Chin up would've been a more efficient way to make the same statement, but it wouldn't have been nearly as funny. (It would likely be slightly less funny if Maggie was within striking distance, but fortunately, she had a plane to fly.)

He grunted softly, squinting a little as he maneuvered the cable into the makeshift connector he'd made to unite them. He watched it intently for a few seconds, his shoulders bunched and breath shallow, until the engine's clunking changed to a quieter whirr. Not perfect, he could tell, but sufficient. It'd get them back to land. Of course, when Steve called them back they'd need another plane, but that was easy. He'd radio for a new one as soon as they touched ground. First things first, though.

Replacing the engine cover, Howard moved to the front of the plane, wiping his palms together to signify that he'd completed the task. "Piece of cake," he said coolly. He gestured to the copilot's seat. "Now. Shall we adjourn to Lausanne?"

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margaretc
2014-08-20 01:13 am UTC (link)

Howard had an incredible talent for instilling a deep well of annoyance in her even when she was otherwise occupied. 'Keep smiling, Maggie!' Men. Honestly. He was incorrigible. She rolled her eyes as she listened to him rustle around behind her, and after a few moments, the plane's engine quieted. From angry and asthmatic to - well, perhaps slumbering asthmatic. But still an improvement, all things considered. When he joined her in the cockpit, she cast him an amused look with a quirked eyebrow. "You've worked up quite a sweat for a piece of cake." She paused for a beat and a slight grin curled the corners of her lips. "Good work, Stark."

From there, it was a comparatively simple task of landing the plane at the air field and consigning it to the hands of the SSR mechanics. They had fondue to eat - a promise was a promise, after all - and she had a behind-enemy-lines mission to occupy her mind. There were the requisite reports to deliver, but as it hadn't technically been a sanctioned mission, the reports could probably stand to be delayed.

Once ensconced in the restaurant, Peggy found that she couldn't quite shift her gears into a lower drive. Perhaps it was the hour, or the lingering adrenaline. Most likely it was the silent 'come pick us up' signal slipped into the pocket of the uniform she still had on. She realized suddenly that she had been completely ignoring Howard and jerked her attention back to the table. "My apologies. It's been a hell of a night."

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_stark_
2014-08-20 01:26 am UTC (link)

Yes, Howard was incorrigible and this was, in his mind, one of his best and most redeeming qualities. He was pretty great, after all. And she even gave him a compliment! So that was a win.

Just after they'd landed, Howard did radio for another plane -- the fastest and most easily maneuverable on the market -- and told it to meet them in Switzerland. Meanwhile, there was fondue, which, Howard was pretty sure, tasted even better after a near-death experience. Not that they'd ever actually been close to dying, of course. They'd totally handled it.

But he noticed that Maggie hadn't really relaxed. Not that he blamed her, really. They still had a job to do. But, since this was a rare opportunity for relative silence, he decided to broach a subject he'd been curious about for a while. "Sure has."

He twisted his fork so the cheese wrapped around the bread in a neat little pocket and said, "So. You and the star-spangled man with a plan, huh?" he shot her an impish grin. "Can't say I'm surprised. You seemed pretty sweet on him even before I gave him all those muscles."

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margaretc
2014-08-20 01:41 am UTC (link)

Well. That had hardly been the topic she'd expected him to broach. Incorrigible to the core. She pursed her lips as she surveyed Howard for a moment. "He's an exemplary soldier and a genuinely good man to boot. We're lucky to have him on our side." It was true: Steve Rogers had a knack for strategy and leadership that it took others a lifetime to learn. Coupled with the sort of selflessness and bravery that allowed someone to blindly fling themselves on top of what they believed was a live grenade. You could turn the tides of a war with an influence like that in the currents.

She was well aware of what her response sounded like: a carefully penned and practiced line. But it was true enough, in its own way. They were entrenched in a war that had them chasing down rogue nazi scientists that experimented on unwilling prisoners for fun. Preserving freedom and rescuing the people that had been harmed by HYDRA were the top priority. Everything else would wait. "How are the designs coming along?" she queried as she carefully used the two tined fork to dip a chunk of bread into the pot of molten cheese. Granted, she wasn't entirely sure what designs she was asking after, but it didn't matter. It was Howard. He had designs for something.

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_stark_
2014-08-20 02:07 am UTC (link)

Howard rolled his eyes dramatically and shook his head at her. To be fair, his motives for asking the questions weren't exactly pure. Generally, he made it a point to avoid any personal drama that might distract him from his work, but this was different. Maggie's relationship with Captain America (or lack of one) could potentially have real bearing on how the super-soldier conducted himself, and that could potentially be problematic.

And, on a completely unrelated note, he wasn't a hundred percent sure he wanted his favorite partner-in-espionage to date one of his science projects, no matter how well he embodied the truth, justice, and the American way. The whole thing just sounded... messy.

Indeed, the fact that she was pointedly avoiding the topic suggested that it was messy. Just as messy as the cheese that dripped from their forks. He chewed thoughtfully, an then completely ignored her attempt to change the subject. "He obviously likes you. No man gets that squirrely over fondue unless he likes a girl."

Just for a second, the shadow passed over Howard's face, hardening the laugh lines around his mouth into something closer to sadness, doubt. "And when we were injecting him, you were pretty quick to run out into the lab when you thought something was going wrong." His eyes were sharp. "That was dangerous. You know better than that."

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margaretc
2014-08-20 02:44 am UTC (link)

Peggy struggled to stifle a groan and the urge to pin Howard's sleeve to the table top with her fondue fork. It was touch and go war inside her head for a few seconds, but her posture remained still. Though still wasn't exactly the word for it. Coiled with suppressed, simmering energy as she allowed him to tick through all of his points. A long silence fell after he finished speaking and she set down her fondue fork, then picked up her glass of water and took a sip of it. "Is it my professionalism as an agent, or my capability as a woman to perform my duties that you're questioning, Howard? Have you had this discussion with Captain Rogers?"

She leaned back in her seat, though it did nothing to loosen the coiled spring of energy that held her together. It was a touchy subject, on more than one level. Field agent training was difficult enough, but when you had to hurdle your way through 'just a dame in a skirt' labels every step of the way, well. It had to be something you really believed in to go the distance. "I'm here to help stop HYDRA. Everything else is irrelevant." Perhaps things were complicated, but was there anything about the past several months that wasn't? Complications could wait. They had bigger fish to fry. "I'd have done the same for anyone in that situation." That was what you did as an agent: throw yourself towards danger and divert it. Had she been worried about Steve? Of course. Would she have done anything differently had it been someone else strapped into Howard's mystery machine? No. Maybe she wouldn't have shouted down from the viewing galley, but the end result would have been the same. Head shot to one of the HYDRA operatives that had infiltrated the operation.

There was probably more that she could say. Like the fact that she was reasonably certain that Steve had thought 'fondue' was some kind of exotic sexual maneuver. He was utterly clueless, which she was beginning to suspect was a trait all men shared. "Does that cover it?"

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_stark_
2014-08-20 03:14 am UTC (link)

Howard blew out a long breath. Of course she jumped straight to that. He was a man, right, so that meant that he automatically had to be treating her like a dumb broad. Even though she wasn't and he didn't and she should know that by now, dammit. It hurt him a little -- just a little -- that she didn't.

He set down his fork with a touch more force than he had intended. "This has nothing to do with you as a woman and everything to do with him as a man." He held up a hand. "It's not you I'm worried about, Peggy." He used her real name for once, indicating that he was serious. "You said it yourself. He's a good man. Too good, maybe. He jumped off a plane under enemy fire and that's just for his friend." He looked at her hard. "Imagine what a man like that would do for the woman he loves."

He didn't hold her gaze for long, immediately distracting himself with spearing another piece of bread. "Anyway. Just be careful all right?"

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margaretc
2014-08-20 03:39 am UTC (link)

Peggy was not about to admit that Howard might have a point there. Instead she glanced away and lifted her napkin to dab it at the corner of her lips, then refolded it to set back down in her lap. She looked back up to meet his eyes and cleared her throat. "Don't forget that he loves his country. That comes first." She picked up her fork as well once he'd speared another piece of bread and occupied herself for a moment with raveling an obscene amount of cheese around the bread she'd picked.

"I'm always careful," she responded, and a grin curved her lips again for a moment. That was not strictly true. She did tend to go haring off into danger with her gun drawn. Or when she let her fists do the talking. Or, on one memorable occasion, an aerosol can of insecticide, a lighter, and her nylons. But she was careful when it counted. And there had never been a moment when it counted more. There were more important things happening in the world than these particular 'what if's.'

It felt as if the silence was on the verge of becoming uncomfortable. She got along well with Howard, but they didn't typically delve into such serious, personal topics. She couldn't remember the last time he called her Peggy. All red flags that it was a perfect time to change the topic. "So, is it just that you don't have any designs in the works?"

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_stark_
2014-08-20 04:03 am UTC (link)

And with that, a smile sparked back onto Howard's mouth, prompted by the sheer amount of cheese she'd managed to fit on one little cube of bread. "Careful enough to know when to accept dangerous, unauthorized missions, anyway," he said lightly.

He dipped his bread into the cheese and idly tried to beat her record, his eyes glazing over just a little when he thought of his favorite design. "Please. I'm designing a dream." He breathed a soft, pleased sigh. "After this war is over, I'm going to save the goddamn world. You watch. Peace for years. Decades!" He grinned. "It'll be great. And that's coming from the guy selling the guns."

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margaretc
2014-08-21 12:26 am UTC (link)

Peggy couldn't help but grin when Howard lightly commented about taking on dangerous, unauthorized missions. She did her level best to be an exemplary officer for the SSR, and though it hadn't technically been an official mission, it was absolutely a worthy cause. She would catch some flack from her supervising officer, no doubt, but flack wasn't enough to stop her from doing what was right.

She regarded Howard with amusement as an unfocused, dopey look came across his face. It was the sort of look one typically associated with men looking at freshly baked pastries. Or women. And here was Howard, lusting after world peace. She wouldn't have been surprised if he started drooling. "And how do you plan to save the goddamn world, Stark?"

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_stark_
2014-08-21 04:12 am UTC (link)

Howard chewed his bread as he cued up a quick elevator speech in his head, his eyes already sparkling. Setting his fork down, he spread his hands apart, palms out, and brought them apart in a rainbow arc. "Picture for me if you will," he said, "a world in which everyone has access to an equal amount of cheap, clean energy. No quibbling over resources. No slave labor. Stability." His smile grew. "That world can exist. It can. Maybe not soon, but Maggie..." he shook his head. "There's something I'm working on. A generator. I haven't worked out all the kinks just yet, but once I figure out how to power it well enough, it's going to work."

He lifted his chin, dreamy. "And it's going to save the world. Maybe not in twenty years. Maybe not even in my lifetime. But someday, Maggie. Someday not too far away." He reached for his fork, expression snapping back into humor. "But first the Nazis. One thing at a time."

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