Work Text:
“Excuse me.”
Peggy couldn’t handle it anymore. Determinedly, she placed her napkin next to her plate, smiled at her date – a certainly rather forced smile, she was sure – and took off in the direction of the supply closet. She’d made a point of arriving fifteen minutes early, which gave her time to mentally map out the place and plan possible escape routes should her date take a particularly unpleasant course.
Unfortunately for her, the ladies’ bathrooms didn’t provide her with windows to jump out of, so the closet was the next best place for her to sit it out. Looking around to make sure none of the waiters noticed her entering this, strictly spoken, employee-exclusive area, she slipped through the door stealthily and sighed in relief as she closed it.
Her newfound joy was short-lived though, for when she turned around, she promptly stepped on something that suspiciously felt like a… foot?
“Ouch! For God’s sake! If you’re gonna intrude into my personal sanctuary, please at least watch where you’re going, lady!”
How dare he! I’m supposed to be alone in here! That’s the whole point!
As if the disappointment at finding her hiding place already occupied wasn’t enough, she was almost certain she recognized the voice. Not quite able to put the pieces together because of their chance meeting in these unusual circumstances, it took her brain a couple of beats to attribute the voice to Jack Thompson.
No. No. NOOOOOOOO!
It was safe to say that Peggy was close to not only screaming internally, but actually at the top of her lungs, as well. Only the thought of a waiter opening the supply closet to find two agents hiding together stopped her at the last second.
“Thompson?” she forced out.
“Carter, I don’t wanna interrupt what is surely a fascinating inner monologue but you’re kinda still standing on my foot.”
“Oh… excuse me.” She removed her foot, and looked at him cautiously. “Are you following me, Thompson?”
“Marge, contrary to popular belief, my every waking thought doesn’t revolve around you. I am on a date.” He paused, and mumbled, almost as an afterthought: “Granted, not a good one, hence… this.”
With her eyes still adjusting to the dark, she felt him move his hands rather than seeing it, but he got his message across, nevertheless.
“Well, my condolences”, she said gravely, “but I’m afraid I must ask you to vacate this room.”
“I don’t know if you’re familiar with the term first come first served, but that’s how this is going to work. Either you stay here with me, or you leave. There’s no way in hell I’m leaving this room anytime soon.”
His slightly panicky voice in the ending confirmed Peggy’s growing suspicion that the blonde girl sitting alone she had seen on her way over was his more or less lucky date. Barely able to suppress her laughter, she thought about the way she had been manicuring her nails with a knife.
“She looks like a fine young lady, don’t you agree?”
The words practically slipped out of her mouth, but Jack’s exasperated facial expression was well worth every single jab that would be directed at her later.
“What ‘bout you, why did you start playing hide ‘n’ seek?”
Peggy noted that he was clearly trying for a nonchalant tone, but he didn’t quite succeed.
I’ll be damned. Is he actually curious?
“I think it will suffice to say that I have thoroughly regretted agreeing to this set up by my dear friend Angie due to various reasons I would prefer not further disclosing to you.”
“Fine, suit yourself. While we wait for them to give up, how ‘bout a Bourbon? They’ve got some good stuff in here.”
Jack started rummaging through the contents of a box and produced a sealed bottle of whiskey. He removed the wrapping and unscrewed it to take a big gulp of the liquid, handing her the bottle after he was done.
A quarter of an hour and about four shots of bourbon later, they had sat down on the floor, their legs stretched out so they wouldn’t touch. The tension between them had decreased considerably and if she hadn’t been scared of jinxing it, Peggy would’ve said they’d reached something like a mutual understanding. It was utterly quiet save for the occasional rustle of clothing, and Peggy couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Thompson?”
She could sense him tense before he sat up slightly, listening attentively.
“Yeah?”
“If you’re still willing to listen, I’ll tell you about why my date was going south.”
He stayed silent, which she took as an invitation to keep talking. Clearing her throat, she continued:
“It’s quite curious, in all honesty. Angie said he was the perfect match for me, and, objectively, she was completely right. He’s intelligent and confident without being arrogant, with great manners, doesn’t disrespect women, or any other group for that matter, and he is very handsome indeed. But…”
She paused, not sure how to continue. In truth, Angie’s acquaintance was a sweet man, and he all but mirrored her personality. Despite all the obvious reasons she should have been head over heels in love with him, she’d found herself getting restless as the evening took its course.
“But?” Jack probed gently. In the dim light of the closet, it was hard to make out his eyes, but they were certainly looking softer than Peggy had ever witnessed them.
“But he didn’t feel real. I tend to dislike people when I can’t seem to find any discernible negative character traits in the first thirty minutes after meeting them, and he didn’t make one single mistake for two goddamn hours.”
Not to mention that he looked like you.
It was a spooky experience to have dinner with somebody who looked like her co-worker, yet acted completely different. She’d never longed for one of Jack’s stupid jokes more than during those two flawless hours of civilized, polite conversation. Karma sure had a cruel sense of humour for trapping her in a closet with the exact person she’d thought of a hundred times when he should’ve been far removed from her mind.
Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or he was just being honest – with Jack, the distinction was often hard – but he answered cynically:
“I certainly wouldn’t have bored you, then, that’s for sure, Carter.”
“What exactly do you mean to tell me, Thompson?”
“Look, Carter, don’t take this the wrong way, but if I were on a date with you, there’s no way in hell you’d run off to hide in a closet. If anything, it would be the both of us hiding in a closet, if you know what I’m saying”, he clarified, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Peggy was shocked to briefly find herself imaging the scenario, and lightly shook her head to clear it.
“Oh Lord, I can’t believe you. Here I am, trying to have a serious conversation with you, and you ruin it.”
“There’s no need to get your panties in a twist. I was just sayin’.”
Changing the topic in order to steer it far away from her underwear, she mused: “Do you think they’ve left yet?”
“Dunno”, he shrugged. It looked like he didn’t even care, which was alarming, since being stuck in a closet with her should have made him slightly angry at best.
Peggy stood up and peeked out of the door, squinting because of the bright light.
Thank God, he’s gone.
As for Thompson’s blonde, she was still occupying their table, despite the fact that she seemed thoroughly pissed off. Peggy turned around, and Jack just sighed:
“She’s still here, right?”
“That’s the bad news. The good news is, I have a plan to get you out, but you have to promise to play along with everything.”
“Marge, I would quite literally do anything to leave this date without an awkward situation”, he stated dramatically.
“Well, I can’t promise that. Let’s go!”
She waited until there were no waiters in the vicinity, and then left the room carefully. Jack followed after her, closed the door quietly and proceeded to look at her expectantly. Without another word, she grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the table he had sat at, and waited for his date to realize that he’d returned. When she looked up and opened her mouth, eyes wide with confusion, Peggy interrupted her rudely.
“It is my understanding that my boyfriend told you to meet him here under false pretences. I am terribly sorry for your inconveniences, but I will be taking John”, she added a fake name for effect, “home now. It was nice meeting you. Good night.”
They barely managed to keep a straight face until they exited the restaurant. Racked by fits of laughter, they tried to hail a cab, but failed miserably.
“Did you see her face?” he gasped. “Have you ever considered Broadway as a career option?”
“Why, thank you. However, I am quite convinced that the SSR is more suitable for a woman with my skillset”, she pointed out, adding a wink for good measure. “And because I have an exhausting job besides rescuing helpless bachelors, I shall get going. Good night, Thompson.”
She got into the cab that had eventually taken pity on them, and waved goodbye, her mind wandering back to when he claimed she’d never get bored on a date with him. Somehow, she didn’t have trouble believing it.