"If this is some cruel conception of your mind, Howard, I will never forgive you." She scolds sternly. Some of his experiments were quite realistic so naturally, Carter employs airs of suspicion. Her next threat goes dormant under the influence of Howard's words to Rogers.
"You KNEW?!!!" She scowls sharply at Tony. He would pay for keeping THIS secret.
How many times has Carter revisited Steve's file? With yearning oaken orbs consuming every grace of his black and white picture, the one taken pre-serum? Before her now, with astonishing clarity, is her hearts most cherished desire. Within seconds ardent devotion returns, threading itself into her heartbeat. Crickey O'Reilly, Peggy was every bit as entranced by him as she had always been.
"And you, Steve? You were just going to show back up and never utter a solitary word?!" A soft note of betrayal lingers in the undercurrent of her tone.
"What plan was that?" Peg counters, eyes turning directly towards Howard from Steve. "To ambush me in a dark alleyway behind the Automat?" Alluding to Howard's latest stunt when introducing her to Edwin Jarvis. "You do know, I could have accidentally KILLED your butler, right?" Jarvis had gotten off lucky with jokes about being concussed.
She is grateful for the promise of privacy. The 'fondueing' commentary while amusing only earned Howard another scowl. Really? For all that money and creative genius of Stark's, he still resorted to employing painfully adolescent lexicon. Though the implication is one that turns her porcelain cheeks crimson.
The butterflies return, flitting indelicately up every vertebra of her spine as Steve, her Steve, approaches. Her own oaken orbs become swollen with unshed oceans. Concealing the more vulnerable emotions had become her second nature after years of practice. And yet, with Steve Rogers standing but a breath away, the facade begins to crumble, as if under the influence of an earthquake. It starts with a tremble in her painted lips and fragments into fathomless depths of her dark eyes. "I thought my instructions were quite clear, soldier..." She feels a sob building under her words as her quivering hand reaches out to cup his jaw. "I expressly told you not to be late." Long lashes cascade downwards to hide a few stubborn tears that trickled downwards. "Do you happen to have any idea what time it is?"
Her thumb delicately traces the wonderfully warm curve of his cheekbone. It's so vibrant, so alive. This was greater than the fantasies and the nightmares that kept her awake. His excuse is deemed acceptable. She could understand the delay far more easily now. "And?" Her eyes flash upwards with hopeful expectations. Replaced is the far too personal emotion. It is superseded by a business like flare, even if it is still tinged with emotion. "What did you discover? Has it any effect so far?"
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