I CAN'T IMAGINE THERE'S A WAY —

[retravel]

WHO: Fitz, SHIELD, and you!
WHERE: New Amsterdam's medium-est bar: Refraction
WHEN: 01 September
WHAT: Leo's turning 31 100
NOTES OR WARNINGS: TBA

[ On his actual birthday, Fitz celebrates with his two closest friends (the people who’ve kept him together, despite wobbles along the way). Bobbi and Daisy, however, know that when Fitz says I hate people and don’t want to celebrate in the middle of a secret war he means I hate being alone, even on days without symbolic meaning. Daisy and Bobbi send out the mass evite, and Bobbi uses her powers of persuasion to find a more upscale venue for a discounted rate. Due to the flipped schedules in the height of New Amsterdam’s summer, Fitz’s party happens in the morning (the new night for anyone working a 9-5 gig), sun rising high over the city as it begins.

Welcome to REFRACTION, a classy bar tens of floors off the ground, with a stellar view of the city, not far from the river. Beams of light weave across the back area of the venue, well-lit by various glowing fixtures. Something about the place has an old world flair, with its dark colour scheme and minimalist decor. Maybe today’s an acceptable excuse to dress smart, celebrate with a friend, and drink up:

— enjoy the food (which might have had British roots at one point, but it’s hard to tell given the variety of fusions on display in bite-size portions) and initial round of free fizz, compliments of the host (and the host’s super stem friends)
— buy drinks at the bar and get wankered (as the birthday boy will be, around the new midnight)
— people watch from the tables and sofas
— dance to NA’s top synth pop hits (coming through hidden speakers above and holograms of the singers at some tables, activated by the proximity of nearby implant viewers)
— try a piece of cake, reading Happy 100th Birthday, Fitz! and looking a bit like it came from the same space-themed, child's birthday do as the evite. If your piece of cake has a wee star inside it, it means you’re one of the lucky winners and get a freebie at the bar.

As a nice establishment, rowdiness will only get you tossed on your arse by the bouncers, so everybody be cool.

At one point, someone nudges Fitz forward to say something. Dressed in his finest blues, he cuts a smarter figure than the usual corporate cut-out. ]

Right. [ said in the tight voice of someone who is definitely on the verge of crushing the flute in his hand. ] I never know what to say, and I didn't have time to prepare because, ah. Surprise. [ he splays out his free hand. ] So I will just say that — that there's someone I wish was here, despite all the horrible happenings, but that I am so so grateful that you're all here despite them, too. It's not for — forever, but it's pretty nice. Right now. [ As another SHIELD agent said: We have what we have when we have it. That's it. ] Thank you. Cheers!

( if you don't think the SHIELD losers would have invited your character, please feel free to come up with a semi-plausible reason for attending. gatecrashing, plus ones, hearing the commotion and wanting to be nosy. all are welcome! )

Comments

[revlon]

[ A few things in common, he says, and she doesn't think anything of it because why would she? The likelihood of shared interests is far higher than shared worlds, she's aware. Even so, that similarity between her and the birthday celebrant in question isn't one she's about to fling about in public; discretion is often the order of the day when Peggy Carter is involved. Doubly so when there's another agent in the mix.

Lies by omission are often the safest ones to tell, so she offers him a half-truth and an easy smile. ]

We met at the Ball. [ Rather, he was the latest in a long line of other displaced individuals to accost her (honestly, she did the accosting; Fitz was quite polite) and was threatened for his troubles. ] And he showed me home, as turned around as I was. We happen to have a few things in common, too.

[ Small world. Small universe. ]

[rehandle]

Oh, he brought you in? [ "brought you in". Stephen wonders idly if he'd known, then. probably. she's not exactly unrecognisable, especially not to a SHIELD agent.

it's a question she's already answered, just an echoing as a point of interest. and provides Stephen with a second to decide whether or not he's going to follow it with what he thinks he's going to follow it with—

hell. there's no time like the present, and he's already somewhat established that Fitz hasn't told him anything by asking the questions. why not? ]

You wouldn't happen to be the Peggy Carter, would you?

[ his tone is light, conversational, not intended to catch the attention of anyone else. but it's an earnest question, and his drink arrives just in time for him to follow it up with a sip and a nod to the barman before looking back to gauge her reaction. ]

[revlon]

[ — ah. ]

Ah.

[ It's an exhale, almost a laugh, but there's no humour in it. Well, there it is, then, isn't it? Only been here a little over a week and despite her best efforts, a history she hasn't yet lived has has blown her cover a surprising handful of times. Fitz first, of course, and then Daisy Johnson, both of whom looked like they'd seen a ghost when the recognition clicked into place. Thor on the network immediately tied her name to Steve Rogers' and it had been explained to her, later on, that their working relationship becomes public knowledge decades after the war.

So much for laying low. Christ. Just when she thinks she's gotten used to the idea, it blindsides her again; it still hasn't stopped being surreal. Peggy, a credit to her profession as always, merely watches him take that sip with her expression still politely neutral in spite of the quickening of her heartbeat. ]

That depends on what you've heard, [ she demurs, looking away to turn her glass by the rim between thumb and middle finger. She lets the moment hang between them before she plucks her drink from the bar and glances back to meet his gaze. Dry, nearly teasing, ] Has Mr Fitz been telling tall tales? I'll neither confirm nor deny any of them.

[rehandle]

Fitz has been the very picture of discretion.

[ let’s not get him into trouble when he really was very careful to not say a thing in the face of Stephen’s gentle probing. Stephen meets her eye, then quirks his brows. it’s almost apologetic - he can’t imagine quite what it’s like to be known by a decades-old reputation. ]

High school, on the other hand, had a little to say.

[revlon]

[ This conversation could have gone any which way and it went here, with solid confirmation to something she already knew in her gut. She cannot view the people who know about her as loose ends because if they know as much as they've implied, then they'll know she's built a life on staying in the margins of any story — and that she was never meant to become the story. (That was meant for Captain Rogers.) Hers cannot be told.

God, high school. Her lips press into a smile that leans more wry than amused, concealed by the sip she takes of her whiskey. Then, more softly, ]

Well, I'm not her. Not yet.

[rehandle]

I’m not convinced.

[ it takes a certain kind of woman to keep her cool under these circumstances. Peggy Carter is that woman, regardless of what she has or hasn’t done yet.

but there’s an imbalance here now. he has secrets of hers, to an extent, and she’s got squat. given that she had no choice in the matter to begin with, it’s only fair he levels the field. she’s one of the few people from his world. she’s one of the SHIELD crew. she’ll be privy to this eventually. anyway, it’s not something he’s been actively keeping a secret - it’s just largely not always relevant to share.

Stephen takes a glance across the bar to make sure the barman’s otherwise engaged. appeased, he settles a little more into the bar, turning to rest so his body creates it own little barrier to their conversation. ]

Fitz and I have both been in the business of keeping the world safe at one time or another. I imagine you and I will be seeing a fair amount of one another.

[revlon]

[ She feels the shift in the mood, conversation, air — all a heartbeat before his physicality follows suit, and it's enough time for her to mentally brace for it. Fitz may have been the very picture of discretion, but that hadn't stopped him from revealing earth-shaking information to her within an hour of meeting and she suspects it won't be the last time it happens to her, either.

Stephen Strange's words are far from reassuring, heavy with the promise of conversations that cannot be had at an event as effervescent as this one.

Her smile doesn't falter or fade, but her gaze does sharpen on him. ]

Someone's feeling very confident. What makes you so sure?

[rehandle]

[ it can't feel great, having blind patches, parts of your knowledge of the world yet to be filled in. well - he knows it can't. it doesn't. he's been here a lot longer than she has, and he's barely any better informed.

but there's only so much he can say right now. he does his best to say it without any trace of hostility. ]

Because resources here don't grow on trees, and we tend to stick together.

[ "stick together". talk occasionally but at length about theories that are informed by our experiences in a shared nest of universes, and in that even rarer gem of a shared world, ocassionally get beaten up by one another in an effort to keep each other safe. same difference. ]

It's up to you, but I'll be available should you want to talk.

[ that's the benefit of being unemployed, but it's also an offer he'd have made her regardless. she's from his world. it's more than enough to inspire a little camaraderie in him. ]

[revlon]

[ No, it doesn't feel great to be in the dark. She was trained to dive headfirst into it with every bit of possible information to light her way. It's barely been a week and she's no closer to finding true north. Which means — ]

Something tells me I should take you up on it.

[ It's not a choice, per se. But he's right: resources don't grow on trees and he is one, although she isn't sure how or why beyond their shared origins (albeit some decades apart). There must be a great deal Fitz isn't telling her; Fitz and Johnson and now this man, this Dr Strange. That's the benefit of being from her future. It puts her at an impossible disadvantage with a gap so vast, she isn't sure she can ever truly bridge it no matter how much she tries.

Does she want to know everything? Should she? That's a hard question to answer. But this is the first step towards a decision. ]

[rehandle]

[ a small smile, sympathetic but pleased. if he can help drag her a little farther out of that murk, he'd like to. unfortunately, or maybe fortunately given how rarely they get to really take a moment out, now isn't the time. ]

Probably. [ along comes his drink (where were they, taking a trip to get the ice fresh from colder climes?) and he takes it up, tilting it in slight toast. ] For now, I'll leave you to it. I'm sure you've got plenty of mingling to do.

[revlon]

[ She huffs out a breath, not quite a laugh. ]

If you know me at all, then I don't need to tell you I don't 'mingle.'

[ Not when she isn't working. She's a private woman who prefers intimate conversations with close friends rather than the general to-do that comes with a party no matter how big or small. This is more her speed, but this — a little barside chat — even more so, as much as it toes the line of invasive. ]

But I suppose you're right. I should play nice. [ How refreshing to give up a little pretence. She quirks her brow, touches her glass to his. ] Starting with you.