[ ...she closes the notebook over her thumb, holding the book at a random page, and bouncing it thoughtlessly against her knee. the soft tap tap tap punctuating silence, biding time while peggy thinks her way through his reply. rip understands her list for what it is: terms, given with a whisper's space for haggling.

it would have been easier if he'd overlooked that fact. there was always the possibility that he would have argued, laughed, or reacted with indignation. had any of those happened, peggy knows, she would have stood up and walked out.

but he entertains the negotiation. so she stays, despite how her head swims. maybe peggy should drink some of tea, get some more fluid into her system, hold her verdict hostage for a bit of toast. but no, they're in the mud of it now, and she intends to see the discussion through to its end. ]

-- I also don't want you consulting Tony Stark on my whereabouts. Or my well-being. Or my...anything, for that matter. [ the two are free to talk, of course, but she'd rather not be the subject of that talking. ] It's twice now I've argued with him because of you. I won't suffer it a third time.

[ this might seem like a non-sequitur. except for peggy, it's anything but. she'd made a fuss over 'sweethearts', but last night tony had sent her a message that rather annoyingly referred to rip as her 'boyfriend,' and it's that same temperamental refusal to embrace those labels that makes her raise this new point. ]