Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As Peggy continued to take dictation, she desperately tried to stifle a yawn.

It would not do to insult the Russian ambassador, no matter how monotonous the man’s voice.

“Запланируйте встречу с мэром как можно скорее.”

Peggy nodded and forced her eyes open as she made a note to schedule a meeting with the Mayor as soon as possible.

A few more instructions, and she was summarily dismissed, just in time to nearly crack her jaw with a yawn in the hallway.

Honestly, it might be covert ops but so much of this job was just boring.

She briefly wondered if she should have accepted that job at the SSR office in New York, but given the way the agents she’d interviewed with had acted, in New York she would have actually been a secretary rather than just undercover as one.

Six of one, the irritated voice in Peggy’s head muttered as she typed up her notes from the meeting and scheduled the necessary follow ups.

Several hours later, Peggy, or Katya Kuznetzova as she was known in the Soviet Embassy in San Francisco, punched out, and began the long walk back to Little Russia. She could have taken a streetcar, but she enjoyed the exercise and fresh air after being cooped up in the office all day and it gave her time to think.

Specifically it gave her time to think about getting out.

She’d been undercover for well over six months now, and so far she’d uncovered exactly nothing. And, frankly, it was frustrating as hell. To go from making a difference in the war, to making tea for diplomats was bracing, but she wouldn’t have minded it as a means to an end. She was just doubting there was an end.

It’s not that she hadn’t gathered intel — she played the part well enough that people confided in her almost without realizing it — it was that the intel she gathered was no use to her. She wasn’t there for trade secrets or information about high ranking minister’s mistresses. She was there for one reason and one reason only: Leviathan.

And so far she’d come up empty.

Peggy sighed and turned into an alley off Geary Boulevard, making her way to the second floor apartment she’d been living in during this assignment. She let herself in, locked the door, and shed her persona, putting Katya away and becoming Peggy once more.

She made some tea for herself and kicked off her shoes, then checked her watch.

Twenty minutes until contact.

Peggy finished her cuppa and then walked over to the stack of linens she kept by the wall, ostensibly because she had no linen cabinet.

In actuality because they served a purpose.

Peggy’s apartment shared a wall with a music shop one street over, the top floor of which held small, soundproof practice rooms. By drilling through the wall, she had created a small hole that allowed her to communicate with the person in the adjoining room, and twice a week her handler, a man code named Calgary, would rent the practice room to meet with her, to debrief and discuss. It was a frankly ingenious solution that allowed ongoing, two-way communication without the risk of blowing her cover.

It also meant that the soundproof wall wasn’t, and intermittently during the week Peggy was subjected to a range of instruments from a range of talents.

Hence the pile of linens.

She moved them aside and used them as a makeshift chair, making herself comfortable and waiting for the code.

At precisely 7:02pm it came.

“The complexity of psychology...” a voice began on the other side of the wall.

Peggy frowned. That wasn’t Calgary. The password was correct, but not the voice. Hesitantly she finished the phrase.

“Is really quite prosaic in its nobility.”

There was a pause from the other side.

“That is a terrible code,” the voice complained.

Peggy clicked her jaw in irritation. “Well I didn’t write it,” she informed him, before realizing how unimportant a correction that was.

“Good,” he replied, then chuckled. “A point in your favor.”

“I wasn’t aware this was a competition,” she snapped, done with this odd small talk. “And you’re not Calgary.”

“No,” he agreed. “Calgary… well the short answer is he’s out on medical leave.”

“Is he alright?” Peggy asked, suddenly worried. She hadn’t known the man except for these brief encounters, but he’d seemed competent, if dull, and she hated to think of any agent suffering.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine, or so I’ve been told. Truthfully it’s a bit above my pay-grade.”

“Is that so?” Peggy asked as she continued to be unimpressed. “Then how did you come to be his replacement?”

The man chuckled and Peggy shifted in her seat. It was a nice laugh, which for some reason made her uncomfortable. “Honestly? A lack of agents who speak Russian, I think.”

“And you do?”

“Да,” he replied.

“Good,” she said. “You won’t stand out in the neighborhood.”

“That’s the idea. Also, I think we should change our meeting schedule. How about Monday and Thursday?”

“Yes, good thinking. But since you’re here now, shall I debrief?”

“Shoot,” he said, then chuckled again. “Not… not literally though.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “No. Alright, well the Ambassador is meeting with the Mayor next week, though I doubt it has anything to do with Leviathan. And I did manage to plant a bug in the break room. Alpha November Tango protocol. The SSR can begin listening in immediately, though I imagine it will be a lot of chatter about missing lunches and the like.” She paused, allowing him to finish taking any notes. “Do you have anything for me?”

“No, just the update on Calgary. You can call me Helicon by the way. And your code name is Peony, right?”

“Yes. Alright, well if that’s done, have a good evening Helicon.”

“Wait, what? That’s it?”

“I have nothing else to report, do you?”

“No, but I got the practice room for an hour. What am I supposed to do until then?”

“Practice the piano I suppose. Or sit in silence. Your choice.”

“Is that what Calgary did?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, I wasn’t his secretary.”

“Alright, alright. Point taken. Goodnight Peony.”

“Goodnight Helicon.”

---------------------

“...and a visit from the French Ambassador next week. I think that’s all.” Peggy rattled off the last of her updates and waited for the man on the other side of the wall to finish talking notes. “Have you anything for me?”

“Yeah, does the name Red Room mean anything to you?”

Peggy paused, racking her memory for any mention of the phrase. “No. Should it?”

“Not sure. I was doing some background research and I came across a redacted mention of it I was able to unredact. Seemed important.”

“I’ll keep an ear out,” Peggy assured him. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, what’s an 11 letter phrase for ‘sensible paraglider heading this way eventually’?”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s an — ”

“I heard you the first time,” Peggy interrupted crossly. “I’m just not sure what this has to do with my assignment.”

“Nothing. I just brought a crossword puzzle with me this time. Since you refuse to speak to me and I’m not interested in taking up the piano.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “Are you so very bored with this assignment, Helicon, that you needed to bring entertainment?”

“It’s a small, soundproof room with nothing in it but a piano and my thoughts. Forgive me for wanting a little distraction until my hour is up and I can leave without suspicion.”

“You’re an agent, you should be able to handle being uncomfortable and alone,” Peggy reminded him.

“Sure, but just because I can, doesn’t mean I have to, especially if there’s an alternative. Something you might remember.”

Peggy bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve been undercover, alone, for almost eight months with no one to talk to who actually knows who you are except your handler who you won’t even give 30 minutes to for conversation. Which is your choice, of course, if that’s what you want, but I don’t think it is.”

“And what do I want?” Peggy demanded.

“Honestly, I have no idea. And I’m not trying to pry. I’m just saying, badly as it turns out, that I’m here, for another half hour, if you want to talk about the weather or the Dodgers or the rising cost of flour.”

Peggy bit her lip. He wasn’t wrong, per se, it was lonely work. And despite herself she did seem to like the man. They’d been meeting for weeks now and he was unfailingly polite and funny and smart. She just… she couldn’t be seen as anything less than utterly professional. And discussion of any personal nature always felt unprofessional.

“It’s not vital to the mission,” she said instead, with less conviction than she’d intended.

He sighed. “Well life isn’t only the mission. You know what you are?”

She paused. “Down to earth.”

Helicon snorted. “That’s one way of putting it.”

Peggy shook her head, though of course he couldn’t see her. “No, it’s… an 11 letter phrase for ‘sensible paraglider heading this way eventually’. Down. To. Earth.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised, which she found oddly pleasing. “So it is. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight Helicon.”

“Goodnight Peony.”

---------------------

“Vasili Dassaiev is going to be in Los Angeles next week!”

Peggy hadn’t even waited to remove her shoes or coat, and frankly she had to keep herself from shouting the words, she was so excited about the development.

“Seriously? That… do you know where?”

“I’m working on that. But I know he arrives next Thursday by private plane. I’ll try to get more information before our next meeting.”

“Oh, wow, Leviathan’s number two on US soil. That’s… that’s big. I gotta — ” He broke off with a sigh. “I gotta cool my heels here for another 59 minutes until I can leave without raising suspicions.”

She heard a metal clang and a murmured curse from the other side of the wall.

“Are you alright, Helicon?”

“Yeah. I’m just anxious to get going.” He chuckled, that soft, slightly cheeky laugh she so enjoyed despite herself. “I guess now I know how you feel.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, finally removing her shoes.

“Eager to get rid of me,” he explained and she frowned.

“I’m not…” She sighed. “That’s not an accurate description of the situation.”

“No?”

“No. I’m just…” She slid down against the wall, and leaned her head back on it. “How… how did you learn Russian?”

“Sorry?”

“It’s a question.” A question that could both be seen as personal and professional and Peggy was quite proud of herself for the solution.

“Europe,” he replied finally. “I, uh, I had a lot of time on my hands.”

“You didn’t serve?”

“No, I did. I was, uh… I was injured. Pretty bad. Decided to learn a useful skill while I recovered. And I always had an ear for language.”

“Really?” Peggy was impressed. Russian had not been easy for her to learn, even with a native grandmother. “If that’s the case I’m surprised you’re not somewhere undercover yourself.”

“I said I had an ear for it. Can’t write it to save my life. Which, you know in this line of work, it just might. Plus I’m… memorable.”

Peggy grinned in spite of herself. “Far too handsome for undercover work, is that it? Jawline too strong? Eyes too warm and wise?”

“Something like that.” His voice was full of humor and she could almost feel him grinning back. “So how’d you get into this?”

“This assignment? The language component, same as you.”

“No, this. This line of work. Unusual for a woman, in my experience.”

Peggy clucked her tongue in annoyance. “I think perhaps your experience and your imagination are both lacking, Helicon, because we’re actually quite adept at espionage.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t. Just that I hadn’t had the pleasure. Look maybe we just got off on the wrong foot here.” He paused for a moment. “That would have been hilarious, by the way, if you could see me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she told him, though of course she’d put two and two together. The long recovery and the joke… he was making an effort to share. Perhaps she could too. “My brother.”

“What?”

“My brother is how I got in this line of work. He… he didn’t come back from the war, so I sort of took his place. Turned out I had a knack for it, so I just kept with it.”

“I’m sorry. About your brother I mean. Not the other… not that you kept with it.”

“Thank you.”

They were both quiet for a minute before he huffed out a laugh. “You know what this reminds me of? Pyramus and Thisbe. You know the, uh, the play within a play from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Do you know it?”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “I’m British; Shakespeare is practically in my DNA. How do you know it?”

There was a pause and she could practically hear him rolling his eyes back. “We got schools in New York too, ya know.”

“Do you? From the agents I interviewed with there I couldn’t be sure.”

“Oh yeah? I put in a little time with the New York SSR myself. Who’d you meet with?”

“An Agent Krzeminski?”

“Ah. Yeah. No, I can see why the school thing shocked you. What a grade A jackass, excuse my French.”

“Yes, he didn’t impress me so much as convince me to take this assignment instead.”

“Well then… I guess he’s not so bad.”

“Oh he is,” Peggy assured him and the man laughed, then clucked his tongue.

“Alright, I think it’s been long enough. I can claim a headache and leave a little early. Gotta get set up for LA. See ya Thursday Peony.”

“See you then Helicon.”

Peggy was surprised, when he left, to realize she was looking forward to it.

Chapter Text

“No really! He mixed up his days and wound up sending his mistress and his wife to the theatre together.”

“No!”

“Hand to god. But the kicker is, they got along so well, they both left him.”

Peggy snorted out her tea, her laugh bubbling out with it. “Serves him right, the philanderer. How on earth did you hear about this?”

“I still got friends in New York. What, uh, what about you?”

Peggy closed her eyes for a moment and put down her tea. Leaning back against the wall she let out a long breath. “No. No friends in New York. I did… but he’s gone now.”

The man on the other side of the wall was quiet for a second.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied finally. “Were you close?”

“We were. Or we would have been, if we’d had time, I think. What about… what about you? Anyone special back home? Family?”

“My dad’s back there. And I got a, uh, a sister.”

“Are you close?”

“My dad and I are.” Silence. “My sister… we don’t see eye on eye on some stuff. It’s been a while.”

“You should write to her,” Peggy said without thinking, then mentally scolded herself; really this was getting too personal.

“I dunno…” He sounded more unsure of himself than she’d ever heard him before and it made her strangely sad. Sadder than she had any right to feel for a stranger, certainly. “Maybe. Not sure she’d welcome it. It’s been… it’s been a long time.”

Peggy bit her lip before clearing her throat. In for a penny…

“Take it from a sister who would give anything to get a letter from her brother — she will.”

He was quiet again, but Peggy didn’t press. She was just quiet for a moment with him, the two of them lost in their separate but tangled thoughts. Silent… until he wasn’t.

“Oh, shoot! It’s been an hour, I gotta go.”

Peggy looked with surprise at her watch to realize he was right. “Oh. Yes. Well good luck, Agent.”

“Goodnight Peony.”

---------------------

“And suddenly, I was alone. I had nowhere to turn. And it dawned on me that I was going to have to face this all by myself. And the door opened and Headmaster Portley walked in to find me wearing a bandit mask in the middle of his bedroom, my hands filled with his wife's knickers and his most expensive bottle of brandy.”

“Brandy? Why brandy”

Peggy turned her head in surprise, although of course it was only the wall she saw. “That’s what you took from the story?”

“I’m just curious. It’s like the cranky old lady of liquors.”

“It’s classy. Which, I’m sure, is why you never developed a taste.”

“Yeah, that must be it.” He chuckled and Peggy did the same, taking a sip of her whisky as she did. “So what did your friends do?” he asked.

“Escaped. And afterwards I was the school hero.”

“I’ll just bet you were. So it’s always been this way, huh?”

“What way?”

“You. Working alone.”

Peggy shrugged despite the wasted effort of the unseen gesture. “I know I can rely on myself. It’s harder to rely on others. This… simplifies things.”

“You could try, you know. It might even prove useful.”

“With what, my tendency towards a life of crime?”

“With your tendency towards being a hero.”

Peggy took another sip and smiled in appreciation of both the drink and the sentiment. “I’m not a hero. I'm just trying to make a difference.”

“Well I think you’re pretty heroic. I, uh, I heard back from my sister.”

Peggy sat up straighter. “Did you? How did… how are you?”

“Fine. Good. Mostly platitudes, but it was… it was good to hear from her. I’m gonna call next week. It’s her birthday and… yeah so I wanted to say thank you. For the shove.”

“A lady never shoves, Helicon. But I’m glad my... delicate nudge worked out. Truly.” Peggy lifted her glass to finish her drink and in so doing noticed the time. “Oh! It’s past 8. You need to go.”

“No, I, uh...” He was stammering, which she found oddly endearing, even if she did rather wish he’d get to the point. “I actually booked the practice room for a second hour tonight. Thought I might finally take up the piano,” he joked. When she didn’t respond right away he rushed on. “No, but, you know, in case you had any further intel, or — ”

“Yes, yes of course.” Peggy smiled and poured herself another drink. “So about your terrible taste in alcohol…”

---------------------

“The complexity of psychology...”

“Is really quite prosaic in its nobility. Hello Helicon.”

“Hiya Peony. How’s tricks?”

“Oh I think you’re going to like tricks very much indeed, Agent. Hold on, I have something for you.”

Peggy rolled up the paper she was holding as tight as she could to fit through the hole. “I found something out about that Red Room you mentioned. Not much, just a possible location. Coordinates are in the Marjina Horka Forest in Belarus.” She pushed the paper through and waited for his response. When it came, it was incredulous.

“This is sheet music.”

“Of course. I coded it. Simple shift cipher, but it should do in case you get stopped.”

“Oh, you are... you are good.”

Peggy rolled her eyes and smiled. “It pains me that you’re only now realizing that.”

“No, I knew it before. This is just some next level spy craft.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I certainly hope it gets me somewhere. I’m beginning to think one day you’ll be running the joint and I’m hoping to stay on your good side.”

“Well in that case, I hope you’ll heed my warning — be careful. No one actually says the name Red Room, but the tones I hear when they talk around it… whatever this is, it’s very, very dangerous.”

“I’ll pass that along. Make sure the brass actually listens too. Thank you, for this.”

“That’s my job, Agent.”

“That it is. Anything else?” he asked.

“Yes,” she told him, making herself comfortable. “What’s a six-letter-word for ‘together at the airport’?”

There was a pause for a minute as he thought about it.

“United.”

“Ah. Yes. Thank you.”

---------------------

Peggy tapped her foot impatiently, looking at her watch for the third time in as many minutes. 7:01. He was late. And of all the nights…

“The complexity of psy —”

“Viktor Uvarov is here!” Peggy interrupted without remorse or, for once, concern for protocol.

“What? How — ”

“I intercepted some correspondence.”

“Do you have any more details?” he asked.

“He’s at a hotel downtown. He’ll be there for at least another couple hours.”

“How long have you known about this?”

“I came straight here when I found out.”

He paused for a moment, probably analyzing their options. “Wow. Okay, well let me get on the horn to — ”

“No.”

“No?”

“No assault. We can’t. They’ll be looking out for that, we’ll never get close.”

“What… what’s your plan?”

“Show up, arrest him.”

“Peony, you need backup! You can’t just arrest the head of Leviathan on your own. That’s… that’s suicide!”

Peggy crossed her arms in annoyance. “It’s not. He’s not expecting me.”

“Or he absolutely is. What correspondence was this anyway? What if they’re on to you?”

“He’s here, Helicon, I know it. This is our best chance of catching him.”

“Wait, just wait, okay? Let me — ”

“What? Let you call it in and send in a tactical team he’ll see a mile off? That’s not a good plan and besides which we don’t have time. I’ve already wasted enough of it here. I just thought…” she trailed off, suddenly afraid of revealing too much.

“What?” he demanded as her silence stretched out.

“I thought I owed you the courtesy of an update.”

“Right now the only courtesy you’re offering me is that I might have a head start when it comes to investigating your not-so-mysterious disappearance!”

“That’s — ” Peggy took a deep breath. “It will be fine. If anything, they’ll be expecting a full assault. One person — one woman — can get in.”

“I’m not worried about you getting in, I’m worried about you getting out. This could easily be a trap. You’ve been bringing us big stuff lately, maybe they’ve figured out they have a mole.”

“All the more reason to arrest him now, when we have a chance!”

He was quiet for a moment, though she didn’t know if it was because he was angry or just formulating a plan. When he spoke, though, he sounded neither. He just sounded resigned. And, if she was being honest, sad.

“I’m not going to change your mind, am I?”

“No. Leviathan needs to be stopped.”

“Then be careful, Agent.”

“Oh, suddenly I’m ‘Agent’ and not Peony? My, you must be cross.” She played it off as a joke, but it had stung all the same.

“No, but if this… if this goes badly I don’t want the last thing I say to you to be a lie.”

Peggy sucked in a breath, overwhelmed by his words. She wished she had time to offer him a response, but she didn’t. Time was on neither of their sides. She picked up her gear and turned to leave. As she reached the door she paused, suddenly at war with herself.

This was against protocol. Unprofessional. Sentimental.

“Peggy. My name is Peggy.”

“Ok then, Peggy, I am asking you — I am asking you — please, tell me where you’re going. If you give me your coordinates, I can help.”

“What did you say?”

“I asked you to tell me where you’re going.”

… Give me your coordinates, I’ll find you a safe landing site.

She shook off the memory. No. Absolutely not. Things were simplest this way. She couldn’t trust anyone but herself.

… Please, don’t do this. We have time. We can work it out.

Unless, just this once, she could.

“The Cornell Hotel de France.”

And then she was gone.

---------------------

It had been a good plan. A solid plan. She believed this, even as she bandaged her wrist in a dingy motel room off Lombard Street.

Good enough that she’d gotten some incredibly valuable intel before she’d been caught.

But he had been right, they were on to her.

Or, not her specifically, but somebody. Enough that they were looking for an attack on Uvarov. And weren’t interested in questioning her when they found her.

The hired henchman had had a gun trained on her, absolutely prepared to shoot, when the room’s overhead light had been blown to pieces, the result of a sniper across the street. She’d used the ensuing darkness and confusion to her advantage and escaped — barely — but her cover was blown. She was burnt and now she’d have to leave town. She would write up the mission brief tonight, leave it at a drop site, be gone by morning.

Never speak to Helicon again.

Which, she realized as she finished with her wrist and allowed herself to feel achingly sad about that fact, also meant she would never have a chance to thank him for taking the shot.

---------------------

Shortly after the incident with Uvarov, the Soviet Consulate in San Francisco closed, and Peggy was sent on a series of missions which took her all over the world — good practice, she later realized, for her newest endeavor.

S.H.I.E.L.D.

The organization itself was still in the early stages, but established enough that they were going to be working with the SSR for a bit to help with the transition. Peggy was assigned as the liaison to the West Coast Office. She arrived early on a Monday morning and waited in the Chief’s office as instructed by the extraordinarily competent redhead who clearly handled the office’s security.

The Chief arrived right on time, 9am on the dot, a crutch under his left arm and a file in his right hand.

“Good morning,” he greeted and Peggy felt all the blood drain from her face at once. It couldn’t be… could it?

“Margaret Carter, right? Looks like we’re going to be working together for a while. And I have to say after reading your file — the part that wasn’t redacted anyway — I am very much looking forward to it.”

She was staring at him, she knew she was, but she couldn't seem to help it. He looked nothing and everything like she’d imagined. Strong jawline. Warm eyes.

Far too handsome for undercover work.

In response to her obvious gawking, he gave her a sort of funny look, something halfway between bemused and self conscious. “Did I miss some shaving cream or something?” he asked, half in jest.

“No,” she finally croaked out. “No. And it’s Peggy. Peggy Carter.”

A dozen expressions flit across his face before he could help it, before he schooled himself into something resembling passive professionalism.

“Of course. Peggy. So,” his voice cracked just a touch but they both ignored it, “so nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Chief.”

“Right.” He nodded at the door. “Sorta new. Just got the assignment a few months ago.”

“Of course,” she replied, like an idiot. Really, Carter, get it together.

“So anyway,” he gestured to a small room next door. “That’s your office. If you need any help setting up, just ask Rose. She can direct you where to go.”

Peggy nodded. She stood up, still in a daze, and made her way to her new office. It had been cleaned out for her, but she didn’t pay it much mind. She was too busy wondering what he was thinking, if he even wanted her there given how they’d ended — or didn’t.

But she was a professional, so she pushed the worry down, and barely gave it any mind as she met the staff and began setting up joint task force parameters and didn’t get a chance to speak to him in private again for the rest of the day.

In the evening, though, the worry returned with a vengeance. She spent most of the night wondering if this was a bad idea.

But in the morning, there were peonies on her desk.

And the card was signed “Daniel.”

---------------------

She found him in his office a few minutes later, and smiled at him. When he smiled back, she silently cursed the months she’d wasted with a barrier between them and idly reprimanded herself for not just knocking down the wall back in Little Russia — that smile would have absolutely been worth the security deposit.

“I seem to have had some help decorating my office,” she said in mock annoyance, though she couldn’t seem to tamp down her grin.

“Yeah, well, for some reason they made me think of you,” he replied without apology. He looked down for a moment before looking up again and meeting her eye. “Uh, hey, I was gonna... grab a drink.”

Peggy looked at him in surprise. “Right at this moment? It's 9:00 in the morning.”

“No, no,” he chucked, that soft, slightly cheeky laugh she had missed so much. “After I clock out.”

“Oh.”

“Want to, uh, join me?”

“Do you know what, Daniel? I very much would.”

They began seeing each other officially a few weeks later, and the ease they’d had talking through a music shop divider only became easier once the walls — metaphorical and literal — came down.

Still, they rarely spoke of their time in San Francisco, though she did get him piano lessons for Christmas. And once, when they were planning a mission that required a sniper and he’d suggested Martinez, she’d given him a knowing look and suggested he do it instead.

“That shot you made in San Francisco, Daniel, with the light bulb — that was the best I’ve ever seen. It saved… it saved the whole operation.”

It was the first time she’d acknowledged the act out loud, and what it had meant to her. His reaction, though, surprised her. He looked... chagrined?

“Peg... I was aiming for the guy.”

She stared at him for a moment, incredulous, before bursting into laughter.

She laughed a lot with him.

He gave her peonies at least once a week.

And every morning they did the crossword puzzle together.