Chapter Text
One thing that Sousa had been absolutely sure of, the first night after he’d been fixed with his prosthetic, was that he would never dance again. His movements had been laboured and awkward, and he’d been sure that he’d never again have the grace and the easiness on his feet that were required for dancing.
He’d been right about that part. His movements were still laboured and awkward, and the necessity of the crutch made grace next to impossible. But on the matter of dancing he’d never been more wrong.
As he and Peggy spun around the living room now, caught up in a giddy swirl of booze and brass, Sousa didn’t know how he had ever thought he couldn’t dance. There was still nothing graceful in his movements. He tripped as much as he skipped, and Peggy had to carry most of his weight. Yet dancing had never seemed easier. With Peggy to hold him up, he almost felt he could fly.
“It’s impossible to get any work done with you two makin’ all that noise,” Thompson complained. He was sprawled on the couch, papers spread across the table in front of him and a glass of bourbon in his hand.
“You’ve done enough work for one night,” Sousa informed him. “Come on, Jack, get your ass off that couch before it grows roots and come dance with us.”
Thompson sighed. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of paperwork I’ve got as chief,” he said, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know how Dooley did it.”
“I well believe the amount of paperwork you have, dear,” Peggy informed him, lifting Sousa’s arm so she could spin herself. “We’ve been hearing about it non-stop. But that’s hardly a reason for you not to join us.”
“Just ‘cause Dooley didn’t have time for dancing, doesn’t mean you can’t,” Sousa said, laughing as Peggy twirled into him and almost sent the pair of them tumbling to the ground. “And I could use the extra support.”
“You work too hard, Jack,” said Peggy, catching Sousa and pulling him upright again.
“I want to be as good as he was,” Thompson said, downing the whiskey in his glass. “Dooley was the best chief the SSR ever could’ve had. Those are some big shoes to fill.”
“It’s a good thing you have some mighty big feet then, soldier,” said Peggy. She held out her hand to him. “You’re doing a splendid job. But you’ll hardly be able to keep it up if you run yourself into the ground.”
“I gotta finish this report.”
“It’s just a dance, Jack,” said Sousa. “The report can wait for a dance.”
“You’ve been dating us for several months now, Chief Thompson,” said Peggy. “And you haven’t once given us a dance. That is simply unacceptable.” She impatiently waved the hand she was still holding out to him. “Get over here this instant.”
Thompson hesitated for a moment longer, then shook his head at the pair of them, not quite managing to hide the smile that crept onto his face. “Fine,” he said. He pushed himself up off the couch and moved around the table towards them.
Peggy and Sousa cheered. “An admirable decision, chief,” Sousa said, reaching out and grabbing Thompson’s tie so he could tug him closer. “One of the best you’ve made.”
“I’m beginnin’ to regret the decision I made about datin’ the two of you,” Thompson said, letting the pair of them pull him into their arms.
“Please,” Peggy scoffed. “It was never a choice. We’re irresistible.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Thompson said. He grabbed the two of them suddenly and twirled them around, almost sending them falling backwards into the table.
Peggy threw her head back with laughter, and the smile Thompson gave her in response lit up his entire face. Sousa was suddenly struck with how happy he was – how happy these two idiots he’d decided to spend the rest of his life with made him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever laughed harder than he did in that moment, awkwardly spinning and stumbling around the room them, and he was absolutely certain he had never danced better.
The music slowed, and so did their dance, until they were doing little more than holding each other and swaying in time to the gentle rhythm. Sousa took the opportunity to pull Peggy and Thompson into deep kisses, reveling in the heat of their breath and the warmth of their bodies. And though the blustering wind outside swept a chill around the city, the three people dancing in that living room had never felt warmer, feeling nothing but the arms around them, seeing nothing but each other, and tasting nothing on their tongues but whiskey and lipstick.