[ this is thin ice. peggy had made a life for herself -- a viable philosophy, of sorts -- in ignoring what others thought. their opinions didn't (and shouldn't) matter. and indeed she still did not care what ray palmer thought of her, agent peggy carter of the ssr and of 1947.
but suddenly (inexplicably, to her) it matters what he thought of that other version. it's a by-product of her first proper mind-altering event: it's blurred a line and made it harder to separate the parts of her that bleed too easily into that other personality. she'd been happier, maybe, but her days had felt so meaningless.
she smiled more; she achieved less. ]
I don't. [ she exhales. ] Only -- only you're the one suggesting my problem is in how I see that version of me. The second problem built atop the first problem is that how I see 'her' isn't exactly unbiased. Nowhere near.
[ nor will his be, of course, but it's a damn shot nearer to it than her own checklist of complaints. ]
but suddenly (inexplicably, to her) it matters what he thought of that other version. it's a by-product of her first proper mind-altering event: it's blurred a line and made it harder to separate the parts of her that bleed too easily into that other personality. she'd been happier, maybe, but her days had felt so meaningless.
she smiled more; she achieved less. ]
I don't. [ she exhales. ] Only -- only you're the one suggesting my problem is in how I see that version of me. The second problem built atop the first problem is that how I see 'her' isn't exactly unbiased. Nowhere near.
[ nor will his be, of course, but it's a damn shot nearer to it than her own checklist of complaints. ]
I know that I'm real, and that my life was spent on the Waverider.
How real are these other lives? Are they possibilities or simply fabrications?
( she asks because she doesn't know. she has nothing to judge it against, no similar experience or other point of reference )
How real are these other lives? Are they possibilities or simply fabrications?
( she asks because she doesn't know. she has nothing to judge it against, no similar experience or other point of reference )
[ she's grateful, at least, that he words it as though it's his problem. he's the one who finds it difficult to scrub those associations from the record, so to speak, and divorce them utterly from who they should be with one another. still, it makes her worry just a little about whether that's a common stumbling block -- still, her thoughts drift to rip. and her expression sours.
but only for a second. it passes quickly enough. and in its wake she's left to confront the substance of what ray suggests. he cares -- a care unwanted and (peggy believes) undeserved. as he says: he doesn't really know her. ]
The bit with the tie was ridiculous, yes. [ she hems and haws her way through the remainder of her reaction -- temper still present, but cooled down to embers. hers, it seems, was a flash in the pan. ] But I'll confess that tying a tie is one of the small number of talents I actually share with that version. School uniform to army uniform -- [ she waggles the fingers on one hand. ] Might as well be muscle memory.
[ -- which isn't important, really. what's important is that he mentioned not knowing her, she owes him an answer to his earlier question still, and this is a step towards it. temper or no temper. not that it's a big step, really, because all the hints were already there. the year, the war, winston bloody churchill. it should be no surprise that she served in some capacity.
peggy hasn't yet decided whether that capacity will be aired today or not. ]
but only for a second. it passes quickly enough. and in its wake she's left to confront the substance of what ray suggests. he cares -- a care unwanted and (peggy believes) undeserved. as he says: he doesn't really know her. ]
The bit with the tie was ridiculous, yes. [ she hems and haws her way through the remainder of her reaction -- temper still present, but cooled down to embers. hers, it seems, was a flash in the pan. ] But I'll confess that tying a tie is one of the small number of talents I actually share with that version. School uniform to army uniform -- [ she waggles the fingers on one hand. ] Might as well be muscle memory.
[ -- which isn't important, really. what's important is that he mentioned not knowing her, she owes him an answer to his earlier question still, and this is a step towards it. temper or no temper. not that it's a big step, really, because all the hints were already there. the year, the war, winston bloody churchill. it should be no surprise that she served in some capacity.
peggy hasn't yet decided whether that capacity will be aired today or not. ]
I can believe it.
[ whether 'it' is his incompatibility with discipline or the percentage-jump in mister hunter's frustration, she won't plainly say. both are valid enough. truth is, peggy hasn't been coping so well with authority these last two years. during the war, it had been different. dreadful as it was, circumstances had offered her every chance and opportunity to prove herself. again, and again, and again.
afterwards? well -- coffee carafes and lunch orders. filing and answering phones. all necessary bits and bobs of any organization's continues existence, yes, but so far from her wheelhouse. she'd been selfish in trying to shoulder her way back into danger, perhaps. desperate to recapture old conviction, if not old glory. ]
It was either enlist or stay home. At the time, the choice was -- well. I won't say it was easy. But neither was it difficult.
[ and the thing about discipline is that it's rather easy to stomach when you're the one drilling recruits. or delving behind enemy lines under low-supervision and high-disguise. discipline never chafed her, really, until after the war. she'd had a fine role model in her defiance. ]
And it certainly wasn't the sort of thing I envisioned for myself, either. [ a bob of her head, alluding to some common ground. by all rights, she shouldn't have lasted very long either. ] Wasn't really the done thing, you realize.
[ women in the field. ]
[ whether 'it' is his incompatibility with discipline or the percentage-jump in mister hunter's frustration, she won't plainly say. both are valid enough. truth is, peggy hasn't been coping so well with authority these last two years. during the war, it had been different. dreadful as it was, circumstances had offered her every chance and opportunity to prove herself. again, and again, and again.
afterwards? well -- coffee carafes and lunch orders. filing and answering phones. all necessary bits and bobs of any organization's continues existence, yes, but so far from her wheelhouse. she'd been selfish in trying to shoulder her way back into danger, perhaps. desperate to recapture old conviction, if not old glory. ]
It was either enlist or stay home. At the time, the choice was -- well. I won't say it was easy. But neither was it difficult.
[ and the thing about discipline is that it's rather easy to stomach when you're the one drilling recruits. or delving behind enemy lines under low-supervision and high-disguise. discipline never chafed her, really, until after the war. she'd had a fine role model in her defiance. ]
And it certainly wasn't the sort of thing I envisioned for myself, either. [ a bob of her head, alluding to some common ground. by all rights, she shouldn't have lasted very long either. ] Wasn't really the done thing, you realize.
[ women in the field. ]
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