Chapter Text
"There is more to this than you know." Peggy told the man in front of her, pointing a gun right at her chest. In all the possible scenarios that Peggy had thought up, and she had thought of many, she needed to be prepared, where she was caught helping Stark, very few of them included Sousa. Even fewer included him pointing a gun at her chest and looking more than ready to shoot her if he had to.
"Oh really? What is there to know Carter? You have been helping Stark this entire time! And Spider Raymond..."
"I did not kill Raymond!" Peggy was glaring at Sousa who was glaring right back.
"How am I supposed to believe that Peggy? How? You were seen going up to his office, no one saw anyone else going up there, so how..."
"I heard someone coming! Thompson! I heard commotion downstairs and believed, correctly, that Thompson was coming, and so I ran! I slipped out. Raymond was unconscious but breathing when I left that office Sousa!"
"So someone magically slipped past everyone else, into the office, and shot him without anyone seeing them? How is that possible?"
"Oh Thompson made it very possible!" Peggy was seething now. "I left, the commotion Thompson caused had everyone's eyes on the floor and no one guarding the door to the office. It is very possible Sousa." Peggy was noticing, with a feeling of triumph, that Sousa's confidence in his conviction was starting to waver a bit. She saw the look in his eyes change, and his gun dropped for a second before going back up.
"Why should I believe you?"
"Why shouldn't you believe me?" Peggy carefully started walking towards him, hands up, stopping for a moment when his grip on the gun tightened.
"Stark is a traitor." Sousa commented, but his confidence was dropping slowly and Peggy could tell.
"No, he is not. Stark is many, many things, but he is not a traitor. He would never sell to an enemy. The others, they see what they want to see about Stark. They weren't around him during the war, they weren't up there with him when he flew as a civilian to help out, they didn't see him in the lab." Peggy tried not to let her voice waver. "They weren't in the room when Mr. Rogers went down and we heard it happening. They didn't see how he looked after. No one saw what the war did to him."
"He..."
"He was shaken by the experience, deeply. He lost a good friend, many good friends, during the war. Stark is and is not the person people think he is. He can be irresponsible, a complete ass, selfish, and egotistical, but Stark is not a traitor."
"People..."
"Again, only see what they want. No one bothers to learn more about Stark, get to know him better, because no one cares. They see what they want to see because they want a fallback, they want someone, someone famous, to point at and say 'Oh of course he did that, it's him!', without even stopping to think that they are genuinely hurting someone who doesn't deserve a lot of what is being said about them." Sousa, no longer glaring nor pointing the gun at her, still appeared tense. He was looking at her, a cool, calculating expression on his face, and trying, she had no doubt, to decide whether or not he should believe her.
"Fine." Peggy let out a breath she had no idea she'd been holding, and Sousa put his gun back into it's holster. "If Stark isn't the main issue here, who is?"
"Leviathan." Peggy could hear the others coming, getting closer. She was resisting the urge to bolt, but it was getting more and more difficult. "It's a Russian organization."
"Okay." Sousa nodded at her. "Alright. Fine, I believe you."
"Good." Peggy felt a smile surge up and didn't stop it. "Good. I'm glad."
"You better run, Thompson's getting close." Sousa said after a few seconds.
"What about you?" Sousa frowned and looked around, sighing, he took his gun back out of it's holster.
"I'm going to shoot off a couple of bullets into the sky, and you are going to knock me unconscious." Sousa said this as if he were prepping a grocery list, which caused Peggy to raise an eyebrow at him. "Come on Carter, you know this is the only way to do this so you can escape and my ass won't get arrested for aiding a fugitive. I'm no good to you locked up. "
"No good to me?" Peggy frowned, but walked over to him none the less, deciding where and how to hit him so she didn't cause too much damage.
"Of course. How can I help you out if I'm in lock up? It just isn't practical." Sousa smiled at her for the first time that day. "Don't die out there Carter. You have a lot of explaining to do."
"Sous...Daniel, if I wasn't wearing lipstick right now I would kiss you on the cheek." Sousa rolled his eyes and Peggy felt another smile coming. "See you later?"
"See you later...Peggy." And in a flash, two shots were fired from Sousa's gun, Peggy knocked him out and ran, and when Thompson and his men finally found the alcove they had been in, the only thing he found was an unconscious Sousa.
Later on, after hours of 'searching' for Peggy, Sousa was walking home and saw the diner Peggy had told him about once. He shrugged and walked inside, sitting at the counter. To his surprise, Angie Martinelli walked over to him and set a cup, then poured coffee into it, before handing him a menu and smiling at him.
"Hey there Mr. Agent Man." Martinelli's eyes were bright and a bit teasing, all the anger and resentment he was so sure she had felt for him was not present.
"Hello Ms. Martinelli." Sousa greeted. Martinelli rolled her eyes.
"Come on, call me Angie. Any friend of Peggy's is a friend of mine. Thank you by the way, for getting me out of there." Earlier that night Sousa had marched (Well, limp marched.) into the interrogation room where Thompson had been interrogating her and told him to back off, she was useless. Martinelli had glared at him earlier, taking her purse and smacking him in the chest with it as she walked out.
"No problem. I'm sorry for calling you useless. I didn't mea..."
"Oh I know. Peggy told me you were a good guy, and I trust her. Even with all this weird stuff going on." Another diner was calling her over, but before leaving she added "Open up the menu, find something you like. I can't comp the whole thing but the coffee is on me. Have as much as you like. In fact I'd like to chat with you. Peggy said you were alright, and I agree. I have a feeling we'll be friends."
"You spoke to her then?"
"Yeah, a couple hours ago on the phone. She's fine." Not waiting for a reply, Martinelli walked off to deal with the other diner and Sousa turned back to the menu in front of him. When he did, a small envelope with his name on it. He picked it up, opened it, and took out a note that appeared to be from Peggy.
Dear Sousa,
I know what you might be thinking. No, I didn't go back to the hotel. Believe it or not this note was prewritten. I knew...well, suspected, that one day it would be necessary. And while I couldn't be entirely sure, I had a feeling I could convince you of the truth of the matter. I left the note hidden in Angie Martinelli's room. I will probably call from a safe distance and have her bring it to you, that is, unless...but the darker possibility is not going to happen, I won't let it.
Sousa, I know you will have so many questions and rightly so. I know you probably feel hurt, and are wondering if I was only nice to you to gain you as an ally and nothing more in this crazy happening. That is not true. Yes, having you as an ally is nice, but I wasn't acting as such just for that. For one thing, I was being a decent human being, unlike Thompson and the rest. For another, I am genuinely fond of you Sousa. You have a strong moral compass and you didn't let your experience in the war ruin you or your personality. You are a good man and a good agent, and I hope that someday, you and I will be able to sit down and chat, not on the run, and get to know each other better. I'm probably on the run, if you're reading this, but someday, you and me, maybe a nice coffee shop. Or dinner. I haven't decided yet. Take care Sousa.
Sincerely,
Peggy Carter
P.S. Angie Martinelli is a good person as well, and I would highly advise striking up a friendship with her.
Sousa folded the note back up, stuck it in the envelope, and put the envelope in a coat pocket. Martinelli returned and gave him another smile.
"So, did you pick something out Mr. Agent Man?" she had her pen and pad poised, eying him.
" Yeah, uh... the Night Owl Special looks rather appetizing. I think I'll take that. And when you have the time I'd love to...talk." Martinelli's smile got wider and she nodded.
"Sounds good. You and I will be good friends Mr. Agent Man, I know it."
Yes, he believed they would be as well.