IC Inbox - Entranceway

[directed]

Obviously I'm not here right now, but leave a message and I'll--listen to it. Eventually.

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[directed]

[Oh, now that will get the indignation that Peggy thought might be provoked earlier. The tea has helped, but mention of Tony Stark inspired an entirely new throb of pain, paired with a sharp frown as Peggy couches her terms in ways that would implicate Rip stands culpable for whatever she and her nephew had bickered over.]

Oi, now; I can't be held responsible for whatever fit that man sees fit to throw. [What he'd mentioned last night remains true today; Rip's got no idea what he's done that's apparently offended Tony so greatly, that a call of concern now apparently warrants an argument--a second one, at that.]

I've spoken to the man all of three times sum total, and two of those saw him throwing vitriol when I'd just barely said hello. [He places the cup on the table, forgoing more of the tea in favor of leaning back against the sofa. He rolls his head back against the cushion, though an inconveniently placed seam digs uncomfortably at the back of his skull.] While I will readily admit I can be a "dick" at times, I've done nothing to warrant it with him.

[No, that is entirely Tony's irrational behavior, and should sit on his shoulders. But a moment later Rip sighs; he can at least abide some of what she has thrown out.]

Give me your room number and I shouldn't have reason to call him again. [Even if Peggy seeks to avoid Rip, he can at least ensure her possessions remain in tact, and by extension, that she remains tethered to Wonderland.] You do realize I only contacted him last night because I was concerned, don't you? That hardly puts me in the wrong here.

[mucked]

[ peggy knows damn well that she's the linchpin around which those arguments turn, and not rip at all. her stipulation hadn't even intended to implicate him as the root cause so much as their conversations -- his and tony's -- catalyzed immediate headaches for her once tony started lashing out. it's a tenderness of ego she never had to account for with the man's father, and one she's handled rather poorly so far. the easiest thing, the thing she tries to accomplish right now, is to just sever the trigger.

...only it comes with a price, doesn't it? peggy rolls her eyes, yes, and shakes her head throughout the initial indignant tirade. but it's always indicative of something when she a particular argument not worth the rising. just as it's not her responsibility to defend rip to tony, it's equally not hers to defend tony to rip. she's no wealthow; she's no peace-weaver. ]

I'd buy it, perhaps, if you'd waited a day before you let your concern get the better of you. [ oh, yes, they'd found a rather equitable compromise last night in a twist and tangle on the sofa -- but that doesn't mean she's absolved him for his overeager concern. ] But a handful of hours, Good god, man. Be honest. Were you motivated by concern alone?

[ he'd asked for her wants, and she'd offered him the opposite. now it's her turn to stick him with a question intended to shed a little more light on this knot of threads between them. perhaps it's not as forthright as asking him what he wants, but she suspects it'll have much the same effect.

and after getting his hackles up. oh, peggy looks almost smug as she sits back and awaits his answer. ]

[directed]

[He breathes out a sharp bark of laughter, even if it sends a corresponding spike of pain through his skull. Waited a day she says, as if there's some acceptable time frame that should pace before Rip is allowed to let his manifest worry. He rolls his head to look at her, while at the same time counting off his reasoning on upraised fingers, one ticked after another to explain why his concerns were both valid and appropriately timed.]

We were less than 48 hours out from an event with an element that might have seen someone killed, we reside in a universe which brings people to and from their home dimensions with hardly any measure of predictability, and the last time I saw you, it was when your shadow laid bare your vulnerabilities to such a degree that you wished me to leave you alone so I wouldn't hear whatever you decided to confess to it.

[Three reasons; three possibilities.] I've no idea if or how many times you might have died here already, and I got no answer when I attempted to contact you directly myself. And you are as stubborn as you are strong, Miss Carter. Without fail, you have shown up on my doorstep every Wednesday, no matter what each of us has been through.

[No matter what he has been through. Rip draws in a breath, lets it out as a sigh. Though it seems so obvious now what the difference had been, in those hours last night?
Rip's thoughts ran another way.]

So either you couldn't come, or you chose not to. I needed to ascertain which it was so I would know how to proceed.

[mucked]

[ he cracks his actions apart with all the specificity of an operative performing an autopsy on a less-than-successful mission. right down to his numbered justifications. peggy's focus shifts between his fingers and his eyes, and she finds herself both respecting and resenting the tactic. peggy had tried to bait him into spilling forth some sort of sentiment, but he'd staunchly refused. perhaps she should be relieved, in the end.

even so, she disagrees. there's too much of a contradiction in the position -- they can't proceed like this, behaving as though being sent home could ever be a cause for serious concern. because here's what she thinks happened: upon realizing that peggy wasn't coming, rip had wanted to explain her absence away by unforeseen circumstances. her assumption, however cold, is that he'd proceeded hastily because he didn't want to entertain the possibility that she might have stood him up. that she might have willfully ignored his messages.

she slides to the edge of her seat. he'd named his price for this list-item, and peggy hadn't paid it yet. but by now she decides she'd drawn adequate blood to offset the cost. riled him up a little, let him suffer his headache a little more, prompt him to explain himself in detail and then respond to the whole lot with only two words: ]

Five fifteen.

[ there. next-bloody-time he can some and knock on her door himself. spare the both of them a great deal of confusion. ]

[directed]

[He's got little idea of the sentiment she's after from him, that in this case, Peggy means to dig past the surface and find some deeper meaning to his motivations. And perhaps they are there, waiting to be spelled out past neat summations like "concerns" and "worries"--but just the same, haven't they already been made obvious by Rip's confession of Peggy's importance? Or his eagerness to return her kiss, to lose himself in her the night prior--

The fact that he'd still had whiskey out when she stopped by, so many hours after she'd been expected?

Yet in the end Peggy gives; deceptively, perhaps, relenting in one direction so Rip might not notice her retreating in the other. If so, job well done for her. He commits the number to memory, and though he already suspects he won't be welcome as a surprise visitor, it's comforting to know he can at least put any future concerns to ease without summoning the aid of others.]

Five fifteen. [Repeated and then laid to rest, at least in Rip's mind. He raises his head again; the seam's gotten the better of him, and while he rubs at the errant spot, he glances back towards her.]

Anything more on your list of undesirables? [He won't jinx it by speaking the thought aloud, but so far it's been easy enough to accommodate.

Mentions of Tony Stark aside.]

[mucked]

[ she's not proud of the way she baits and hunts those feelings. but the truth is that none of the previous indicators can be trusted as gospel. not really -- whether given in a moment of crisis or of drunkenness, none of them are stamped with the kind of quiet certainty she craves just now. a good solid lead, one that she can follow from today into next week. and, more importantly, next wednesday.

peggy picks back up her mug. the contents are lukewarm, now, but she makes a go of drinking them all the same. somehow it's worse for a lack of heat, and she doesn't hide her distaste after she swallows.

there's more, yet, to talk about. she still needs to approach the question of what items, if any, sit waiting on his list. but for now she crinkles her nose in acknowledgement of his question. ]

I don't suppose you'd be willing to consider a clean shave?

[ because rip hunter is the first man she's ever kissed with such a beard on his chin. and while she might have enjoyed kissing him rather a lot, she finds herself still undecided about the whiskers. ]

[directed]

[He says nothing when she takes her drink, though perhaps she can find a level of certainty in the smug satisfaction showing in Rip's eyes when she once more puts on a face of disgust at the flavor. Of course the kettle is there should she wish to use it herself--but far be it from Rip to point that out, even now.

Besides, considering the time that Peggy's from? He doubts she could leave anything in that cup without feeling some twinge of wrongness about it. Never mind that Wonderland would seem to be the land of plenty; mend and make do, always.

It's part of her stubbornness that Rip rather appreciates, even beyond moments such as this which see him take advantage of it.

Oh, but her question--and it is a question, rather than a non-negotiable demand--brings quite a different brand of mischievous thought into his head. There's really only one reason why she'd be asking after his beard now, and Rip puts on a show of considering it, despite knowing his answer immediately.

It affords him a few seconds to pick up his mug once more.]

...I dare say you'll get used to it, Miss Carter.

[Cheers; Rip drains the final bit of his tea.]