Summary: On Valentine's Day, Peggy Carter solves a murder, exposes a fake curse, and absolutely does not appreciate being teased about how affectionate she's feeling. Four months pregnant and wildly out of sorts, she spends the day dodging her husband's touch, right up until she very much doesn't. Mystery, miscommunication, and married makeout in the middle of the city.
Valentine’s Day begins in the hush before dawn, when the world feels paused and unobserved.
Peggy wakes first.
The apartment is dim and blue-gray, the radiator ticking softly, the air still carrying the faintest trace of Daniel’s aftershave from the night before. She lies still for a moment, feeling the gentle, steady weight of his arm draped over her waist. His hand rests just below the curve of her stomach, almost unconsciously protective, even in sleep.
Four months.
It still startles her.
She shifts carefully, rolling toward him instead of away, and presses her body flush to his. Not just a casual nudge, she fits herself to him deliberately. One thigh hooks over his hip. Her palm slides beneath the cotton of his undershirt, skimming warm skin.
Daniel inhales sharply but doesn’t wake fully.
Peggy buries her face in his neck and breathes him in.
For weeks she has felt… displaced. Her body not entirely hers. Sensations unpredictable. Hunnger one moment, revulsion the next. Desire flickering and vanishing before she can grasp it.
But this morning—
She feels anchored.
She feels wanting.
Daniel stirs. “Mm,” he murmurs. “This is either a trap or I’ve done something spectacularly right.”
She huffs a quiet laugh and presses closer.
He rolls onto his back, blinking up at her. The sight of her above him, hair loose, cheeks faintly flushed from sleep, shirt slipping off one shoulder, makes something warm and immediate bloom in his chest.
“Well,” he says softly, brushing his thumb along her hip, “happy Valentine’s Day to me.”
Normally, teasing her like that would earn him a wicked smile. A spark in her eyes. Peggy loves escalation. Loves the tension of being challenged.
Today, the spark falters.
She freezes just slightly.
Daniel feels it immediately.
Her hand stills against his ribs. The faintest sheen appears in her eyes, not tears yet, but something dangerously close.
“I—“ she starts, then stops.
Embarrassment floods her face, deep and sudden. It’s as if he’s caught her in something vulnerable.
He sits up quickly. “Peg?”
“I’m fine,” she says too fast.
She slides away from him.
The space where she had been feels abruptly cold.
Daniel’s teasing smile fades. He reaches for her wrist gently.
She pulls back, not violently, but instinctively.
And then she’s standing, shoulders squared, composure restored with military precision.
“We have a case,” she says evenly. “We should prepare.”
Daniel watches her disappear into the bathroom and feels, with sinking clarity, that he has misjudged something fragile.
The mansion looks like it was built for melodrama.
High iron gates. Ivy crawling up stone walls. Windows tall and watchful. The kind of house that expects thunderclaps.
The victim, an eccentric collector of “cursed” artifacts, was found beneath a shattered chandelier in the west wing library. Blunt force trauma, officially.
Unofficially?
A curse.
The mansion is absurd.
When Peggy and Daniel step inside, they find Jack Thompson standing beneath an ornate portrait, arms crossed, wearing an expression that suggests he would rather be anywhere else.
Beside him stands Agent Aurelia Vale.
She is impossible to ignore.
Copper-gold hair pulled into a loose twist that’s already escaping. A stack of annotated case files tucked under one arm. Spectacles she removes only to gesture emphatically with them. Her eyes are bright with curiosity and barely concealed impatience.
“You’re late,” she announces briskly, though it’s obvious she’s been pacing. “I’ve cross-referenced the estate’s historical records and there have been three prior ‘incidents’ involving sudden falls. None fatal. All theatrically timed.”
Thompson sighs. “She’s been like this since six a.m.”
Peggy arches a brow. “Agent Vale.”
“Director.” Aurelia straightens instantly, then leans in conspiratorially. “If this is a staged curse, it’s either deeply elaborate or insultingly obvious.”
Daniel hides a smile.
The lock mechanism hidden behind a false bookshelf is as ornate as the rest of the house. Five rotating letters.
They try combinations.
Vale rattles off possibilities based on Victorian symbolism and marital folklore.
Peggy studies the etchings framing the lock, intertwined hands, veils, roses.
“BRIDE,” she says quietly.
The lock clicks open.
Vale gasps in delight. “Oh, that’s romantic and deeply manipulative.”
Peggy straightens. “If Daniel and I weren’t already married, I’d assume this entire affair was a proposal stunt.”
Daniel’s lips twitch.
He steps closer to her instinctively—
She shifts away.
It’s subtle. But not subtle enough.
Throughout the rest of the investigation, it happens again and again. His hand at her back, she stiffens. Their shoulders brushing in narrow corridors, she retreats.
Daniel tells himself it’s nothing.
But something has changed since dawn.
Peggy works like a woman possessed, faster than the others, sharper than usual, irritation flaring when Vale takes a few seconds too long to reach a conclusion.
“Director,” Vale says breathlessly at one point, eyes shining, “you realize this is all structured like a gothic romance—“
“It’s structured like a fraud,” Peggy snaps, then softens only marginally. “Focus.”
Thompson’s surprise dinner resercation derails their private plans.
Peggy smiles politely, but Daniel sees the flicker of disappointment.
The drive is cramped.
Vale chatters in the backseat about architectural symbolism. Thompson complains about cursed upholstery.
Peggy sits beside Daniel, very quiet.
Then—
Her hand slides onto his thigh.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Daniel nearly misses a turn.
He glances sideways. Her gaze is fixed ahead, expression neutral, but her fingers curl, pressing lightly, thumb stroking once along the seams of his trousers.
Heat floods him instantly.
In the mirror, Vale is mid-lecture about Gothic heroines reclaiming agency.
The restaurant is refined and utterly incompatible with pregnancy.
The scent of butter and wine turns Peggy’s stomach.
Vale enthusiastically recommends dishes. Thompson insists she needs protein.
Daniel leans in, lowering his voice. “They can make you something simple. Toast. Soup.”
“I am not infirm,” Peggy murmurs.
“No,” he says gently. “You’re pregnant.”
The distinction softens her.
But when Thompson presses a plate toward her and Vale insists she “just try one bite,” Peggy’s patience evaporates.
Daniel cuts in smoothly. “Gentlemen. And Vale. My wife is capable of determining her own appetite.”
Vale blinks, then nods quickly. “Of course. Bodily autonomy. Absolutely.”
Thompson mutters something about being helpful.
Peggy exhales.
Daniel says mildly, “Besides, Thompson, the last time you advised anyone on food, you recommended bourbon as hydration.”
Vale snorts. Peggy laughs.
Really laughs.
It loosens something.
But beneath the relief, a different tension builds, low, coiling, persistent.
By the time they leave, Peggy feels overheated in her dress. Restrained. Hyperaware of her skin.
And when Thompson and Vale finally catch another ride—
She turns on Daniel the moment they’re inside the car.
Her hands fist in his lapels.
She pushes him back against the seat and kisses him hard.
Not tentative. Not playful.
Hungry.
Daniel’s hands come up immediately, sliding along her waist, pulling her closer. The curve of her stomach presses between them, and the sensation makes something in him melt.
She kisses him deeper. Slower. Her teeth graze his lower lip. Her breath turns uneven.
“Peg,” he murmurs, already unsteady.
Her hand slides down his chest, over his abdomen, lower—
He catches her wrist gently.
“We are in the middle of the city,” he says, voice rough.
“I don’t care.”
“I do.” His forehead rests against hers. “Because I want to finish this properly.”
Summary: When Jack ropes Daniel into eavesdropping on the telephone ladies' breakroom, they both might hear a lot more than they'd bargained for.
Word Count: 2,387
Category: Fluff, Humor
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
Daniel's POV
I sighed as I shuffled the papers in my hands, mentally running through the million things I had to do today. Peggy, Jack, and I had managed to stop Leviathan from leveling New York City and destroying Howard Stark, but that didn't mean the last six months since then had been any more relaxed. If anything, it had gotten busier than ever before.
There had even been talk of opening another branch of the agency in LA, which was a whole other insane possibility fluttering around in my mind. It was enough to distract me to the point that I didn't notice Thompson, half-hidden by the entryway to the agency, until I ran into him.
"Thompson? What the hell are you-?"
"Sh!"
He raised his finger to his lips and glared at me. I glared back.
"Why are you-"
"Sousa! Shut up and listen," he hissed, jerking his head towards a grate in the wall. I frowned and made a demanding "what?" gesture, but he just nodded towards the grate again. I sighed, so long-suffering it wasn't even funny, but shuffled closer.
"This better be good," I grumbled. Jack just waved his hand at me.
Through the grate, I could hear voices talking and giggling loudly. It sounded like all the ladies who sat outside the entrance to the agency, guarding the door and keeping up the front that this was a phone company, talking together like they were in the break room. I paused, curious enough to entertain Thompson's nonsense for another ten seconds.
"-saying is, there's a definite ranking of all the guys in this office. And yours ain't it."
The girls dissolved into another fit of giggles, and I scowled. I grabbed Thompson's arm and yanked him away from the grate, out of earshot.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I demanded, keeping my voice low just in case. "You're eavesdropping on coworkers in their breakroom? Instead of working? You're the Chief!"
"I don't know if you caught it, Sousa, but they're talking about us. Specifically which one of us they'd most want to date. I'd call that research and intelligence work for future opportunities."
Jack gave me a smirk as he drifted back towards the vent. I scowled and followed to drag him away and make him do his damned job, but froze when I heard the ladies welcoming our newest addition to the agency, the second female agent in SSR history. She'd been here a little over five months, had become instant best friends with Peggy Carter, and had me head over heels within a week of knowing her.
And apparently she'd just walked into the breakroom.
Jack gave me a knowing smirk and raised an eyebrow, and I glared right back. But I couldn't quite manage to drag myself away either, no matter how much my brain told me I should.
****************
Y/N's POV
"You came at the perfect time!"
I pulled a snack out of the fridge and looked suspiciously at Mary, one of the switch operators who worked outside the SSR. In the short time I'd been here, I'd gotten to know her and Rose pretty well, since they mostly alternated shifts for our main door guard. Rose and I had quickly bonded over our mutual feminism and desire for independence; Mary and I had bonded through being troublemakers, and I had a feeling I was about to see some more of that.
"Why?" I asked, drifting halfway to the door now that I had secured my snack. Mary smiled.
"We were just talking about the boys in the office. We have a few different opinions about who would make the best boyfriends and husbands, and since you know them all so well... I mean, I can't think of anyone else with a better reason to chime in."
I scoffed. "Nice try Mary, but no way am I engaging in this conversation. See you all later!"
The rest of the women in the room booed playfully, but I didn't turn around as I reached the door. Mary, however, knew me well enough to figure out how to stop me in my tracks.
"Well, I guess that means Jack Thompson is the definitive winner!"
I narrowed my eyes and stared at the door in front of me, hand on the half-turned doorknob. I'd come so close to avoiding this nonsense, and it still wasn't too late for me to take the exit. I scowled and scrunched my nose, then turned around to squint at all my coworkers looking back at me.
"Be completely honest, I'll be able to tell if you're lying," I started, still only half-turned away from the door. "How many of you would put Jack Thompson at the top of your 'SSR's Most Eligible Bachelor' list?"
A few hands shot into the air, followed by a few more tentative hands that must've heard the disgust in my tone. All in all, about half the room had their hands up for him. I sighed, long and heavy.
"And the other runners up were...?"
A few people called out names of other men in the office, most of whom were barely better (or definitely worse) than Jack. I looked up at the ceiling and shook my head.
"You all have terrible taste in men."
Half the room, Mary included, started laughing, and the other half looked offended. I shook my head and turned to leave again, but Mary stopped me again before I could go.
"Who would you choose then, if not Thompson? You can't criticize our taste without giving us some insight into your process."
Her grin stretched across her entire face as she stared at me, waiting for me to take the bait. Her hand had been the first in the air for Thompson, but I could tell she genuinely wanted to debate me more than she wanted to defend him.
I sighed.
"Fine. But I'm going to make this quick and then I'm gonna go do my job, because I have a ton of stuff to do today," I said, finally stepping away from the door to stand in the middle of the room. Everyone stared at me, leaning forward in their seats a little, Mary most of all. "...I can't believe I'm about to engage in this."
Mary scoffed and I rolled my eyes, but then took a deep breath and dove in. What the hell, right?
"Okay, first of all, let me clarify: I can understand, from a surface level, why you might pick Thompson. He's handsome, and if you didn't spend much time with him, I can see why you'd think he might make a good partner. Honestly, in the five months I've known him, I've even seen a few glimmers of hope that there might be a heart of gold underneath all that arrogance, posturing, and chauvinism. However. In terms of best guy in the office to have as a partner? He does not even come close to touching Daniel Sousa."
A few people raised their eyebrows, half leaning forward and half leaning back and crossing their arms. I ignored them all (especially Mary, who beamed at me), and continued.
"Listen. Sousa is... kind of ridiculously attractive. He's handsome, with the warmest brown eyes you've ever seen in your entire life... and he's super strong. I've seen him one-handed lift a bunch of different things the other agents struggled with using their whole bodies. He looks incredible in a sweater vest, to say nothing of suits and non-sweater vest clothes."
I saw considering nods around the room as people took in my words. I paused and took a deep breath, then continued.
"More than all of that, though... Daniel is kind. He's strong in his morals and his character, not just physically. He's got a great sense of humor, and his jokes don't rest on being a mean, close-minded jackass. And, above anything else, he respects me. He respects Peggy. He treats us as equals. I don't know about you guys, but... that means everything to me. And finding a man who's kind, smart, strong, handsome, and will treat me as an equal partner? Come on. Daniel's got it all."
I hadn't been paying a lot of attention to the expressions of everyone else around the room while I was talking, but now I focused back in to see the majority looking thoughtful. I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious, and started backing towards the door.
"Uh, anyway... long way of saying I'd put Daniel at the top of my list."
Mary grinned at me as I continued heading for the door, then pushed out of her chair and called out to the whole room.
"Hear that? Sousa's off limits, these two are going to be dating in the next month if we have anything to say about it."
"MARY!"
****************
Daniel's POV
Jack and I stood in the hallway, stunned into silence as we stared into space. My brain had been telling me to stop listening a while ago, but I'd been shocked enough that my body had refused to listen. Now, my heart was telling me I was on the verge of a cardiac arrest.
"You go get him, girl!" Mary's voice continued through the vents. Then, with determination and glee dripping from her words, "I'm staying after Thompson. I'm gonna fix him."
I heard some light-hearted laughter, and then a door shutting. In a few seconds, the girl who'd just poured her heart out to me without realizing it would be coming into the office, a few feet from Jack and I's stupid hiding place.
"You look like you're about to puke," said Jack, a beaming grin on his face. I scowled.
"Why don't you? You just got called a couple pretty bad things."
"What? Like 'attractive'? All I was hearing were positives." He grinned at me, then sobered slightly before slapping me on the shoulder and taking a few steps away. "Don't psych yourself out on this one though, Sousa. She's a catch, and she's clearly in love with you. If you don't take a shot, I might have to."
I scoffed and shook my head. I knew Jack didn't really mean that; it was his own, terrible way of trying to be supportive.
I sighed and tried to brace myself as I walked over to the entrance to the SSR. Thompson was wrong about many, many, many things, but he was right about this: I needed to take my shot.
****************
Y/N's POV
"Holy- Daniel!" I nearly dropped the snack I'd taken a detour to retrieve as I cleared the SSR doors and came face to face with Daniel, especially since I'd just poured my heart out about him to a bunch of our coworkers. "You scared the hell out of me!"
"Uh... sorry," he said, shifting his weight around a little and running a hand through his hair. He looked almost as comfortable as I felt.
"Is, uh, is everything okay?"
"Yeah. Well, sort of. I just..." He cleared his throat, then jerked his eyes away from the floor and the wall to meet mine. "I need to tell you something, and then I need to ask you something."
"...Okay?"
"First, I... I heard what you said in the breakroom. About me. And about Jack, which was fun too, but... It feels important that you know I heard the stuff you said about me."
My heart stopped in my chest, and I blinked a few times as black spots danced at the very edges of my vision. I was going to kill Mary.
"Uh..."
"Before you say anything, I'm sorry," he said, holding up a hand. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just... I let Thompson suck me into something I should've known better about. I'm sorry."
"It's fine, Daniel," I said, a little breathless as my legs finally started working to move me past him. I could not deal with this a second longer. "Don't worry about it, I'll... I have to go-"
"Wait!" he cried. He put one hand on my arm to stop me, then quickly dropped it when I turned back to look at him. I watched him take a deep breath, my heart hammering a thousand times even though it only took a few seconds, then he continued. "Look, I know I might've lost a few points in your book for the eavesdropping, which is fair, but... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't head over heels for you too. Have been since the first few days you got to the agency. You're smart and strong and funny and... God, listen to me."
He looked down and shook his head, and I noticed a slight blush rising up his neck and cheeks. Slowly, my heart dropped back to a normal rhythm, and I started to smile.
"Okay, what I'm trying to say is... I feel the same way about you that you do about me," he said, finally looking up at me again. "And if you'd still be interested... I'd love to take you out to dinner sometime."
I beamed at him, unable to stop the smile completely overtaking my face. I looked down, and when I looked up again, Daniel's stare was still on me, a smile hopefully flickering in and out of place.
"Daniel, I'd love that," I finally said.
"You would?"
"Yeah. I really, really like you, eavesdropping and all."
He huffed a laugh, the shaky smile turning into full-on beaming.
"Great! How's tomorrow night sound?"
"Sounds perfect."
"Good. I'll pick you up at eight." He started to back away, so both of us could get to the mountain of work we had to tackle at some point today, then stopped. "If that works for you, that is?"
I smiled. "That absolutely works for me."
"Alright, great! I'll see you then. And, uh, around the office, I guess."
"I'll see you around the office."
We shared another set of dorky, ridiculous smiles as we backed away from each other, going to do our separate tasks for at least part of the day. Thank God Thompson wasn't around to see either of us.
At some point, he and the rest of our coworkers would probably catch on to the two of us dating, unless the first date somehow went so horribly there wasn't a second. But I'd meant every word I'd said to the rest of our coworkers about Daniel. And if a little eavesdropping had led to him asking me out, I couldn't bring myself to be too upset about any of it.
can we just talk about the fact that sousa saw daisy and went “i’m following her”.
he didn’t know her. he had no context. he didn’t even know she has powers. and yet he immediately imprinted on her like a duckling. like “yup this one is the safe one i like this one.”
and the best part? it was believable. because i, like sousa, would follow daisy anywhere with absolutely NO context.
and then there’s daisy, who hasn’t given herself the metaphorical time of day in years because she’s so caught up in the insanity her friends experience on a daily basis that she doesn’t even particularly process that The New Guy is following her around until episode 9 when she has to get stuck in a time loop.
say what you want about this show, but that whole plot line was excellent. a very subtle not-so-subtle way of reminding daisy that she’s fucking awesome.
