[In this small thing they seem at least to be in sync; Rip had intended to bring Peggy her mug even before she made that silent gesture, perhaps not asking outright but implying all the same—as she has so often accused him of, in fact. The roundabout journeys to a point, or the implications left in the gaps between words: these are languages he and Peggy are both quite well-versed in, and no doubt that commonality serves as part of the platform on which they now find themselves.
He crosses the room, holds out one cup to Peggy and ensures she's taken good hold of it before he sits on the couch again. Beside her again, in nearly the same spot he'd had before, both this morning upon rising, and last night when they came crashing down together.
They are no longer talking of the Time Masters. Volumes are spoken in the unsaid, and as Rip takes that first glorious sip of tea, he recognizes this divergence of path. Still—his answer is delayed as the warmth of heated ginger and lemon spreads through his chest, not at all unlike the alcohol that they had both indulged and overindulged in the night prior. For a moment he's pulled away from his own thoughts to savor the comfort of that sweet relief.
Only a moment, however. Peggy is still waiting—and though he could avoid the gambit, he'd earlier told himself that once they each had tea in hand, this topic would be broached.]
Certainly at some point it became more, given that we were both training to be Time Masters when things began. [He looks down at his mug, now cupped in both hands.] We snuck about and expected we were too clever to be caught, right up until the moment that we were.
[Bold as brass they'd been, exchanging heated kisses in the hallway. Rip could make the excuse of youth, perhaps, could tell Peggy how he and Miranda made all the same promises, that this was merely an affair, a fun little fling, there would be no harm in it.
And then he suddenly found himself ready to give up everything for her.]
Although I expect much the same could be said for you. [He glances up at Peggy, if only just enough to catch her eyes, the look on her face.] A war is hardly the ideal backdrop for any affair. The risk of losing those closest to you remains ever-present.
no subject
He crosses the room, holds out one cup to Peggy and ensures she's taken good hold of it before he sits on the couch again. Beside her again, in nearly the same spot he'd had before, both this morning upon rising, and last night when they came crashing down together.
They are no longer talking of the Time Masters. Volumes are spoken in the unsaid, and as Rip takes that first glorious sip of tea, he recognizes this divergence of path. Still—his answer is delayed as the warmth of heated ginger and lemon spreads through his chest, not at all unlike the alcohol that they had both indulged and overindulged in the night prior. For a moment he's pulled away from his own thoughts to savor the comfort of that sweet relief.
Only a moment, however. Peggy is still waiting—and though he could avoid the gambit, he'd earlier told himself that once they each had tea in hand, this topic would be broached.]
Certainly at some point it became more, given that we were both training to be Time Masters when things began. [He looks down at his mug, now cupped in both hands.] We snuck about and expected we were too clever to be caught, right up until the moment that we were.
[Bold as brass they'd been, exchanging heated kisses in the hallway. Rip could make the excuse of youth, perhaps, could tell Peggy how he and Miranda made all the same promises, that this was merely an affair, a fun little fling, there would be no harm in it.
And then he suddenly found himself ready to give up everything for her.]
Although I expect much the same could be said for you. [He glances up at Peggy, if only just enough to catch her eyes, the look on her face.] A war is hardly the ideal backdrop for any affair. The risk of losing those closest to you remains ever-present.
[Just as it does in Wonderland.]