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Another Friday evening date night cancelled, Daniel thought ruefully. It wasn’t as if it was unusual, what with his wife being the director of a fledgling federal agency, but he and Peggy had barely had a honeymoon after their wedding, much less any quality dates since then.
This time, there had been rumors of Russian spies infiltrating the President’s dinner party, so Peggy had been asked to attend to provide extra security. Daniel would normally have recommended that she assign another female agent to this type of task, but given the potentially catastrophic nature of a failure tonight, he had agreed that it was best if Peggy herself went.
Daniel, who officially was SHIELD’s recruitment officer, was spending the evening in a surveillance van keeping tabs on Peggy and the handful of other agents (who were patrolling the perimeter) via comms. By the clinking of silverware, he guessed that they had started the evening meal.
All of the sudden, there was a commotion from the other end of the line, a stifled gasp and then the sound of a chair being shoved back from a table.
“Excuse me,” came Peggy’s clipped voice, followed by the sound of her heels clacking along the hallway at a rapid pace.
“Peggy, is everything all right? Did you see something?”
Instead of an answer, the only thing Daniel got in response was the sound of a stifled heave followed by a door banging open. Peggy’s shoes echoed louder in what Daniel knew must be a bathroom, and sure enough, the next noise sounded roughly like a stall being opened, closed, and then locked.
“Peggy?!”
The harsh sound of retching came over the radio and Daniel grimaced, turning down the volume momentarily to spare himself the sound of Peggy losing her lunch.
“Peggy, come on, answer me - is this poison?! Has someone tried to poison the president? I’ll radio the other agents, have them lock the place down - and call Stark and the scientists of course, have them make an antidote-“
“Daniel.” Peggy’s voice, breathless and scratchy, crackled across the line, and Daniel sagged in relief.
“It’s not poison, I’m quite certain of that. Daniel, I didn’t want to tell you like this, I wanted to do it in person,” she sighed, “but it seems it can’t be avoided.”
The moment of pure relief when Peggy had said she was sure it wasn’t poison evaporated. Daniel had no idea what she could possibly have to say. If she was ill, and it wasn’t poison…
“I’m pregnant.”
Daniel’s jaw dropped open.
“Peg…what? You’re….?”
“Yes, pregnant, darling. We’re going to have a baby - not the most convenient timing, I know, and this godawful “morning” sickness isn’t in the morning at all, and our apartment isn’t big enough for a baby, and…”
“Peggy, stop. We’re going to be parents!” Daniel enthused, grinning ear to ear. Peggy laughed in response, and he could hear the joy in her voice.
……………………………………
A few hours later, after the party ended (and there had been no Russian assassins after all), Daniel was waiting outside the van for Peggy to emerge.
“Daniel!”
He turned towards her voice, and she flung herself into his arms. He swung her off the ground for a moment, then set her down. He gently cupped his hands over her stomach, grinning.
“Peggy, I can’t believe it! A baby!” He leaned in to kiss her, only for Peggy to stop him with a hand on his chest.
“At least let me get home and brush my teeth first,” she laughed. Daniel chucked and offered his arm instead. Peggy took it, and the two of them headed home to celebrate.