Agent Carter. Jack isn't found in time at the end of S2.
It had been a perfect day. One of the few perfect days Peggy could ever remember having. After those moments in Danielâs office (those glorious moments) they had both done something they almost never did: theyâd taken the rest of the day off.
They went to the beach. Peggy took off her shoes and curled her stockinged toes in the sand. They sat on a bench and talked for hours, and then they went and had a late lunch and talked some more, and finally, sunburned and delighted, they went back to Danielâs house as sunset purpled the sky.
She was sitting in Danielâs kitchen with her hands curled around a cup of tea, Daniel unwrapping the butcher paper from steaks theyâd bought in the way home, laughing and bantering back and forth while Peggy thought I could spend another day like this; I could spend the rest of my life like this â when Danielâs telephone rang.
They looked at each other, and Daniel smiled slightly. âGotta be important, to call me at home when I said I didnât want to be disturbed.â
âWould you like me to get it?â
âNah. You can get these started.â
She was heating the broiler when she heard Daniel say in an odd voice, from the kitchen doorway, âPeggy?â
She looked around, startled.
âI think ââ He took a breath. âPut those in the icebox. We have to go.â
âDottie,â Peggy said instantly. âWhitney.â She looked at Danielâs face, saw the pallor and the stillness. âWhat?â
âThompson,â he said.
*
The hotel was quiet when they got there. The main activity had been earlier, a few hours ago in the afternoon, while they were walking on the beach and she was curling her toes through the sand. But Peggy tried not to think about that.
It wasnât as if there was anything she could have done, she told herself. The coronerâs report, which they had picked up before coming over and sheâd read in Danielâs car, had said heâd been shot in the chest. It had taken him about an hour to bleed out. But they hadnât known. Couldnât have known. He had been unconscious the whole time, the report said, or at least he didnât appear to have moved. It wasnât that heâd suffered, not much anyway âŠ
âI thought he was on a plane,â she said quietly, as she unlocked the door with the key the manager had given them.
âWe all did,â Daniel said. He, like Peggy, paused for a moment and then stepped with exquisite care over the bloodstain in front of the door. The room had already been searched by the local police and then the SSR; Jackâs things were currently at the SSR office. Going through them would be the next step, but Peggy wasnât quite there yet.
She looked out the window, down at the headlights on the boulevard below. The worst thing was, this wasnât even the first time sheâd done this. A year ago sheâd been investigating the death of a different supervisor â at least Jack hadnât actually died in front of her â
âPeggy,â Daniel said softly, and his hand was on her arm, pressing. âDo you ââ
âIâm all right,â she said, pulling away. There were things to do. People to interview. A shooter to find.
She hadnât let Dooleyâs killers escape justice. And she wasnât going to let this pass unavenged, either.
About the rest of it, she just ⊠tried not to think. Tried not to think about You owe me a bourbon and How about collecting the dinner orders? and Youâre a good man, Jack, I know that âŠ
âPeggy?â
âIâm fine,â she said, squaring her shoulders. âYou take that side of the room, Iâll take this one.â
It was simply another case. She knew how to do this.
But oh. She was tired of losing people.
