#specs and the flyboy

[swan-of-sunrise]

Heavy Lies The Head...(Tales From The SSR)

Summary: Halfway out the door on a late Friday night, Daniel receives a telephone call from the FBI and is thrown head-first into Jack and (Y/N)'s top-secret investigation, forcing him to reckon with a devastating truth (Chapter 13 of Specs and the Flyboy in Daniel's POV)

Pairings: Peggy Carter X Daniel Sousa, Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! I haven't rewritten a chapter of Specs and the Flyboy in a while, so I decided that it would be interesting to read Chapter 13 from Daniel's POV! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Heavy Lies The Head... November 1947 West Coast Strategic Scientific Reserve, Los Angeles (Previous One-Shot)

For the most part, Daniel enjoyed his position as Chief of the West Coast SSR. Accepting a leadership role had been a nerve-wracking decision, one that he’d wrestled with over many long days and sleepless nights before finally giving the bosses in D.C. his answer, but it was one that he was forever grateful he’d made; being the one to call the shots and oversee the creation of a brand-new branch came easy to him and living far away from the familiarity of New York had helped him flourish, both in regards to his job and his new normal as an amputee. He’d grown more confident in his own abilities, finally feeling that he was on equal footing with Peggy and Jack by the time they’d crossed the country in order to work the Isodyne Energy case, and he was particularly proud of his recent leadership decisions, including hiring the country’s top codebreaker. With that being said, however, he’d steadily grown to dislike having to rush in and clean up the messes that his agents loved to cause behind his back, which was the exact situation he found himself in on a late Friday night in the office…

“Finally headed home, Chief?”

Daniel stifled his tired yawn behind his hand as he limped into the waiting room of Auerbach Theatrical Agency and nodded. “Yeah, I was filling out some paperwork for the Lacardo case and must’ve lost track of time. I didn’t keep you, did I?”

Rose waved his worry off and slipped the vinyl cover over her typewriter. “Not at all, Chief; my big plans for tonight consist of a cup of hot chocolate and the newest Agatha Christie novel.”

“Trust me, there are worse ways to spend a Friday night.” Daniel shifted his weight onto his crutch and fished his car keys out of his jacket pocket while he continued. “I was just planning on reheating some stew for dinner and passing out on the couch.”

The secretary snorted in amusement as she collected her gloves and purse. “Eating a decent meal and getting some rest for once? Who are you and what’ve you done with Chief Sousa?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Just then, the telephone at Rose’s desk started to ring and Daniel felt a surge of guilt when she let out an exasperated groan. “It’s okay, I’ll get it. You have a good night, Rose.”

Rose flashed him a grateful smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks Chief. I’ll see you in the morning!”

Daniel watched the loyal secretary walk out onto the sidewalk and make her way towards her maroon ’46 Ford Deluxe with a fond smile. Despite his desire for a clean break from the New York SSR and a fresh start in Los Angeles, he’d secretly been relieved when Rose put in her papers for a transfer to the fledgling branch; she’d always been a reliable secretary, but she’d quickly proven herself to be a valuable asset to the West Coast SSR and a trusted confidant to him. The telephone’s continuous ringing recaptured his attention and he heaved a sigh before picking up the receiver and holding it up to his ear. “Auerbach Theatrical Agency, this is Mr. Auerbach speaking. Who’s this?”

“FBI Director John Roberts.” Daniel’s brow immediately creased in worry. It was common knowledge that the SSR and the FBI – the country’s top two federal law enforcement agencies – shared a tense relationship, with the former’s creation and continued existence after the war causing quite a stir in the Justice Department, and the mysterious death of Vernon Masters placed even more strain on their icy working relationship. “You’re a smart man, Chief Sousa, so I’m sure you already know that this isn’t a social call.”

Rolling his eyes, Daniel leaned against the edge of Rose’s desk and shortly replied, “Yeah, I gathered that already. What can I do for you, Director Roberts?”

 “Earlier this evening, two of your associates interfered with a high-level FBI operation and are currently being held at our headquarters awaiting questioning. In accordance with the Bureau’s standard procedures, I’m required to notify you of-”

“Wait a second, what? Which associates?”

“Chief Thompson of the New York SSR and Agent (Y/L/N), your branch’s new codebreaker. They interfered with our bust of a transnational organized crime syndicate at The Palladium and since they refused to cooperate with our agents, they were taken into custody pending a formal investigation.”

Daniel’s temples began to ache and he clenched his jaw. “I’m on my way. When I get there, I expect a full and unabridged explanation from you, Roberts.” Without waiting for a reply from the older man, he slammed the receiver down onto its cradle and heaved a sigh. “Well, shit.”

There were countless emotions brewing in Daniel’s chest as he limped out of the office and climbed into his ’40 Ford V8 Standard, ranging from anger at the FBI and their blatant incompetence and annoyance that his late night was showing signs of turning into an all-nighter, but he was mainly filled with confusion; from the moment they first met, Jack and (Y/N) despised one another and if anything, time had only intensified their mutual animosity, which was why Daniel couldn’t understand why, out of all the agents that were employed at the West Coast SSR, those two would spend their Friday night at a swanky Hollywood nightclub together. There’s something more to all of this and I just know that I’m not gonna like it one bit, he thought as he switched his car’s engine on and peeled away from the curb, a familiar knot of foreboding beginning to take root in the pit of his stomach.

It was a quarter past midnight by the time Daniel parked in front of the FBI’s Southern California Division, centering himself with a deep breath before stepping out into the chilly night air and making his way into lobby of the federal building. When he stepped through the doorway, he was waved over to the front desk and he presented the bored desk agent with his badge. “Chief Sousa of the Strategic Scientific Reserve.” The desk agent grunted and he tucked his badge back into his coat pocket. “I have business with Director John Roberts, so if you could point me in the direction of his-”

“Chief Sousa!”

Daniel glanced over to see the man in question striding across the near-empty lobby towards him, and he struggled to mask his growing irritation behind a thin-lipped smile as he was compelled to shake his outstretched hand. “Now that you’ve got me here, Roberts, I’d appreciate some straight answers and the immediate release of my people.”

Clenching his jaw in obvious annoyance at his lack of pleasantries, Director Roberts shot the desk agent a look and waited until he disappeared down the hall to start talking. “At eleven-hundred-hours, my men breached The Palladium in the culmination of a months-long investigation into Martin ‘Lefty’ Stompanato, with the intention of arresting him and his business associates.”

“The crime boss from Queens? The SSR investigated him and a couple of his men in connection to a suspected mob hit on one of our scientists last year, but there wasn’t enough evidence to charge them for murder.”

“Yes, we’re well aware of your agency’s failed attempt to bring him to justice.” Roberts’ condescending tone forced Daniel to bite his tongue and his grip tightened around his crutch as he continued. “After you released him and his men, he simply moved his organization across the country to Los Angeles; since then, we’ve been conducting undercover operations, collecting witnesses and compiling evidence obtained over several months, and tonight was supposed to be the night where we’d finally catch him in the middle of a sale. Your people, however, interfered in our operation. Their actions led to Stompanato’s murder at the hands of a suspected weapons dealer, and we have reason to believe that they were both acting in an official capacity on behalf of the Strategic Scientific Reserve.”

Narrowing his eyes, Daniel stood tall and refused to cower under the older man’s glare. “I can assure you, my people weren’t at that nightclub on my orders and they sure as hell aren’t responsible for Stompanato’s murder.”

Roberts sneered. “Well, forgive me for not trusting the word of the man who’s got a nasty track record of lying on behalf of his agency.”

Before Daniel could retort, two disgruntled agents escorted Jack and (Y/N) into the lobby and he was forced to maintain his composure as he studied them both; Jack wore a pair of black tuxedo slacks and a white dress shirt – the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, its top button was undone and a black bow hung loosened around his neck – and (Y/N) was dressed in an elegant baby pink satin evening gown – with what was clearly Jack’s tuxedo jacket draped over her shoulders – but despite their formal attire, he was immediately taken aback by their many cuts and fresh bruises, clear evidence of their action-packed evening at The Palladium.

(Y/N) at least had the decency to look contrite as they were walked over to Daniel and Roberts but Jack remained his usual smug self, flashing them one of his trademark smirks and giving them a jaunty two-fingered salute. “Hey there, Danny Boy.”

Instead of laying into his fellow chief like he oh so desperately wanted to, Daniel ignored him and turned to (Y/N); he’d grown rather fond of the codebreaker over the past couple of months, with her staunch professionalism and impressive work ethic coming into the West Coast SSR like a breath of fresh air, and while he was less than pleased with the mess she’d gotten into with Jack, he trusted her to cooperate and let him navigate their way out of it. “Director Roberts here already filled me in on the situation at The Palladium, but I think I’d rather hear it from one of my own agents…”

(Y/N) nodded, her fingers fiddling with the clasp of her crumpled clutch as she smiled embarrassedly, and it was then that Daniel began to suspect that something was wrong. “Of course. Chief Thompson and I were at The Palladium in a strictly civilian capacity, Chief Sousa. You see, I lost a bet with him the other week about the outcome of the World Series…”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Roberts grumbled to himself and crossed his arms over his chest, his displeasure rolling off of him in waves.

With his suspicions confirmed by (Y/N)’s laughably fake story, Daniel nodded in resignation and allowed her to continue. “Anyways, we noticed a couple of men we knew weren’t waiters entering the kitchens; the waiters at The Palladium all wear white dinner jackets and gloves to set themselves apart from the patrons, and the men we saw were all wearing dark suits. So, we decided to follow them and that’s when we got into an altercation.”

“And then Larry, Curly and Mo arrested us and let the actual bad guys get away,” Jack interrupted with a hard glare aimed at Roberts. “Ain’t that right, Mo?”

Daniel quickly raised his crutch to prevent the older man from lunging at Jack and (Y/N). “Cool it, Roberts.” Ignoring the director’s indignant sputtering, he turned back to the unlikely duo and nearly arched a brow at the strangely protective stance that his fellow chief had taken in response to Roberts’ reaction; Jack was standing half a step in front of (Y/N) with one arm outstretched as if to usher the codebreaker behind him, and his jaw was tightly clenched as his blue eyes blazed with barely restrained anger. Daniel had been a reconnaissance scout in the Army so there wasn’t much that could rattle him, but a part of him had always been a little wary of Jack Thompson’s notorious temper; he’d seen the man unleash his rage on plenty of suspects and enemy agents in service of the SSR but he’d never seen him use it in defense of another person, let alone someone he steadfastly claimed to detest. Daniel recovered from his surprise quickly, choosing to instead focus his attention on the duo’s prominent bumps and bruises. “And are those injuries from the goons who attacked you, or did an agent rough the both of you up while in custody?”

Eyes ablaze, Roberts slapped the crutch away from him. “They were like that when we arrested them and even if they weren’t, Sousa, you could hardly blame any of my agents for taking a swing at ‘em! The FBI’s been working to take down Martin Stompanato and his entire operation for well over a year and thanks to these two idiots, all that time and effort was for nothing! The SSR’s full of so many incompetent nutcases, it’s no wonder Vernon Masters got killed on your guys’ watch!”

Daniel’s nostrils flared as he straightened his posture and pointed an accusatory finger in the older man’s face. “You wanna talk incompetence, Roberts? You set up an ambush at a popular nightclub smack-dab in the middle of Hollywood and failed to inform a single law enforcement agency about it.” Roberts blanched and Daniel angrily continued. “I don’t know what they teach you boys here at the FBI but at the SSR, that’s the very first thing we do when conducting a large-scale operation; had my office been properly notified, I would’ve ordered my agents to steer clear of that club tonight but instead, you broke procedure and put my people in danger. And for your information, Vernon Masters got himself killed when he sided with Whitney Frost and the Council of Nine over his own damn country.” The director stood in stunned silence and with a withering glare, Daniel stepped back and glanced over at (Y/N) and Jack; the codebreaker’s eyes were widened in surprise at his merciless reprimand and the corner of the chief’s lips curved into an impressed smile. “We’re gonna leave now, Director Roberts, and if I catch wind of you harassing any of my people again I’ll be sure to drop a line to your bosses back in D.C.; I’m sure they’d love to hear about how one of their top men screwed up his own operation.”

Without another word, Daniel turned and limped out of the bureau’s lobby. That should keep ‘em off my back for a couple of months, Daniel thought to himself as he led (Y/N) and Jack to his parked car; now that he’d sorted out the FBI’s gross incompetence, it was time to finally get the truth out of the unlikely pair silently sliding into the backseat. While he switched on the ignition, he glanced up into the rearview mirror and caught the wary look exchanged between the chief and the codebreaker, his lips pursing as he peeled away from the curb and started down the street.

“Okay, now’s when the two of you are gonna tell me what you were really doing at that club tonight and why two SSR Chiefs and a codebreaker just lied their asses off to the FBI,” Daniel ordered, his words breaking the terse silence that filled the inside of the car.

“Sure, but we’d better swing by Carter’s place and wake her up ‘cause this involves her too.” Daniel’s brow furrowed in confusion; his eyes flicking to look into the rearview mirror, he watched Jack glance over at an uneasy (Y/N) before staring out the window. “It’s about to be one helluva long night…”

Daniel heaved an exasperated sigh. “Of course it is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is ridiculous, Daniel. We should all be at home, asleep, not traipsing through the office in the middle of the night like common burglars.”

“Yeah, I know, honey, but they said that it wasn’t safe to talk anywhere else.”

Peggy hummed in displeasure, her tired eyes narrowing as they led Jack and (Y/N) up the stairs to the main floor of the West Coast SSR. Having just returned home from a lengthy stake-out up north with Agent Collins, Daniel’s girlfriend was understandably less-than-pleased when she’d opened her front door and listened to his brief run-down of the evening’s events; without uttering a single word, she bundled herself up in a long coat and replaced her slippers with a pair of sturdy rain boots before locking up and sliding into his car’s passenger seat, her exhaustion seemingly at odds with her overwhelming curiosity. If there’s one thing that could tempt Peggy Carter away from her warm, comfortable bed, it’s a compelling mystery, Daniel thought with a half-glance at the woman in question, resting his free hand on the small of her back as they walked into the bullpen and leading her over to Agent Robinson’s neatly organized desk, leaning against it to relieve the dull ache brought on by his prosthetic leg. “Okay, spit it out, you two.”

Peggy practically collapsed into Agent Robinson’s desk chair and yawned into the back of her hand before adding, “Yes, please explain why I’ve been dragged out of bed after returning from a forty-eight hour long stake-out in Santa Barbara.”

Leaning back against (Y/N)’s desk, Jack spared the codebreaker a glance and after receiving a nod of encouragement from her, he turned his attention back to Daniel and Peggy. “Ever since I got out of the hospital, I’ve been conducting my own investigation into who shot me and why.” Well, that explains some of his stranger-than-usual behavior over these past few weeks, a surprised Daniel thought to himself while Peggy simply nodded. “Well, I figured out the ‘why’ pretty quickly; my shooter stole the file on ‘M. Carter’ to keep me from looking into it, but they didn’t realize I’d had a copy made and stashed it here before getting ready to leave L.A..”

“I already told you, Jack, that file’s a fake.” Peggy’s lips turned downward into a confused frown. “It was planted by Vernon Masters in order to discredit me, don’t you remember?”

“The file’s not about you, that’s for sure, but it’s definitely not a fake. Anyways, while I was going over the file to figure out why someone would wanna steal it I realized someone had written codes on it. I got into contact with every codebreaker I knew but they couldn’t figure ‘em out, so that’s when I showed them to (Y/N) here.”

“At first, I didn’t want to have anything to do with him or his investigation but when I saw that the file was about an ‘M. Carter,’ I…” (Y/N) trailed off, fingers twisting around one another as she stared pointedly at the floor and softly continued. “Peggy, you and I both know that you weren’t the only ‘M. Carter’ working for the SOE during the war.”

Daniel froze and the bullpen fell silent, the hum of the overhead fluorescent lights the only sound accompanying the heightening tension filling the room. He’d first learned about Michael Carter from Peggy’s personnel file, back when he’d wrongly suspected her of being a Leviathan spy, and she’d talk about him from time to time, but her stories of her older brother and their childhood together would always put her in a melancholy mood; needless to say, Peggy still mourned Michael’s tragic death and Daniel knew that for (Y/N) to suggest that he was not only alive but a ruthless war criminal would shatter her heart. Glancing over at his girlfriend, he took note of her pursed lips and flared nostrils as she stared daggers at her best friend, who was looking back at her with sympathetic eyes. “My brother died on the front in 1940. That file details war crimes that were committed in June of 1944, four years after his death.” Daniel cautiously rested his hand atop one of hers for comfort, but she all but ignored him. “Even if he wasn’t dead, there’s absolutely no way that it’s about my brother; he was a war hero, not capable of the horrific things detailed in that file.”

Jack raised a placating hand, as if to defend the codebreaker from Peggy’s wrath. “That’s what we thought at first but when (Y/L/N) cracked the first code in the file…”

And with that, the unlikely duo launched into a thorough and concise explanation of their months-long secret investigation into Jack’s shooting, starting with (Y/N)’s expert codebreaking. The first decoded message led them to the humble abode of Aaron Templeton, Jack’s would-be assassin, and after locating a wooden crate bearing the same crest as the strange weapon they’d recently recovered from a daring bank robbery several weeks prior, they smuggled it out of the SSR’s evidence lock-up to be examined by Howard Stark; it was revealed that the weapon’s design was based on a stolen Stark Industries blueprint and after a second decoded message led them to Fieldman Family Orangery, they discovered that the orangery doubled as an illegal weapons manufacturing operation. After thwarting another assassination attempt, Jack apprehended the failed assassin and (Y/N)’s interrogation techniques led to a stunning revelation: the Secret Empire – a criminal enterprise within Hydra tasked with generating financial support and distracting the SSR from Schmidt’s plans – was not only alive and well but actively operating on American soil. A tip-off from one of Stark’s less scrupulous acquaintances informed them of a weapons hand-off involving Secret Empire agents would occur at The Palladium, so Jack and (Y/N) decided to infiltrate the nightclub in the hopes of stopping the sale and apprehending the enemy agents. Their well-planned mission quickly went awry with the murder of Stompanato by a Secret Empire operative, who both Jack and (Y/N) purported to have been Michael Carter himself, and the FBI’s intervention inadvertently allowed them to escape while the partners were placed under arrest.

Daniel stood and silently listened to their entire story, all the while torn between pride and disapproval; his more professional side marveled at Jack and (Y/N)’s effortless ability to keep their entire investigation secret from an entire building full of highly-trained agents – their daily performance of open hostility towards one another giving Bette Davis and Joan Crawford a run for their money – but personally, he felt a surge of betrayal on Peggy’s behalf. (Y/N) was one of Peggy’s oldest and dearest friends and Jack’s actions during the Zero Matter case finally proved his loyalty to Peggy; they’d both not only consciously decided to keep vital information regarding her brother from her, but they’d turned to Stark, the Jarvises and an L.A.P.D. rookie officer for help instead of her. At least they both look guilty about it, Daniel thought to himself as their story drew to a close, studying Jack’s deep frown and (Y/N)’s ashen expression. But when the codebreaker’s gaze met his and he saw the overwhelming shame in her (Y/E/C) eyes, his heart sank and he saw clearly the toll this secret investigation had taken on her.

“For two months,” Peggy started, the hardened edge in her voice causing (Y/N) to flinch and the muscle in Jack’s jaw to twitch. “You both not only suspected that my brother was alive and operating as some sort of enemy agent, but you chose to keep it from me.”

“Carter, we wanted to wait ‘till we had some concrete proof-”

(Y/N) was quick to interrupt Jack’s terse explanation. “Back at Bletchley I saw first-hand how hurt you’d been after losing Michael, Peg, and I didn’t want you to go through all that again if we turned out to be wrong. I…we were only trying to do the right thing.”

With a sour chuckle, Peggy finally looked up at (Y/N) with reddened eyes filled with betrayal. “The woman I met at Bletchley wouldn’t have lied to me…but I suppose war really does change people.”

“Peg…” Ignoring Daniel’s attempt to soothe her, Peggy leapt out of her chair and hurried out of the bullpen. “Peggy, wait!” An upset (Y/N) quickly followed after her, and Daniel took the opportunity to round on Jack. “Nice going, Jack. You couldn’t pull this shit on Peggy all on your own, could you? You just had to drag her best friend into it too!”

“I was shot, Sousa! I was shot and left for dead, and you really thought I wouldn’t do a damn thing about it?!” Jack stood at his full height and planted his hands on his waist. “This isn’t how we planned on telling you guys about our investigation and I’m sorry that Peggy’s upset, I really am, but I’m not gonna apologize for doing the right thing. And as for (Y/N)…” His shoulders sagged and he released a heavy sigh, regret flashing across his face as he ran a hand through his mussed hair. “She could’ve told me to go to hell, walked away from my investigation without getting her hands dirty, but she stayed. She stayed because she’s a damn good agent and she understood that all of this was bigger than any friendship. If Peggy’s half the agent I know her to be, then she’ll come around and see that (Y/N) made the right choice.”

As the sound of raised voices in the hallway filtered into the bullpen, Daniel pushed himself off the edge of the desk and limped past Jack. “You sure we’re talking about the same Peggy Carter?”

Both men crossed the bullpen and hurried into the hallway, only to find (Y/N) standing by herself with her back to them; the codebreaker was practically curled in on herself, her shoulders uncharacteristically stooped and her fingers pinching the cuffs of her borrowed tuxedo jacket, and Daniel didn’t need to see her face to know that she was overcome with anguish. “Where’d Peggy go? Is she okay?”

(Y/N) wordlessly pointed down the hallway and Daniel set off after his distraught girlfriend, leaving Jack and (Y/N) alone behind him. He stepped into the waiting room of Auerbach Theatrical Agency just in time to see Peggy storm past a familiar British butler and out the front door, the wood slamming against the frame and rattling the large glass window displaying the company’s name. “Chief Sousa…” Edwin Jarvis smiled uncomfortably at him, trying his hardest to behave normally but failing to hide the guilt shining in his green eyes. “Miss Carter is quite upset, and she stated in no uncertain terms that she is to be left alone.”

“Jarvis, what the hell are you doing here?” Daniel slumped against his crutch and shook his head in disbelief. “Haven’t you and Stark done enough already? For Christ sake, after everything Peggy’s done for you both, you return the favor by going behind her back to help Thompson investigate her brother!”

The butler sighed. “I regret the part I played in deceiving Miss Carter, but you must see that it was a necessary precaution.” He glanced over his shoulder through the window. “As I suspect she will, in her own time.” Composing himself, he squared his shoulders and turned back to face Daniel with a polite expression on his face. “I presume that Chief Thompson and Miss (Y/L/N) are here?”

Daniel nodded and wordlessly gestured for Jarvis to follow him, both men making their way back upstairs in weighted silence. Turning the corner and stepping into the hallway outside the bullpen, Daniel’s brows shot up when his eyes landed on Jack and (Y/N) in the middle of what could only be described as an intimate moment; the chief was leaning down and staring intently into the codebreaker’s reddened eyes, his hands hovering in midair to grasp her arms in a comforting gesture, and she was looking at him with an uncharacteristic helplessness and – to Daniel’s utter shock – overwhelming trust. Their attention was drawn to Daniel and Jarvis’ presence and (Y/N) was quick to back away from Jack as they approached. “Peggy went outside to get some air, and I just so happened to run into one of your co-conspirators on the way back in.”

Jarvis nodded. “Mr. Stark grew concerned when Chief Thompson and Miss (Y/L/N) did not immediately return to the mansion, so he sent me back to The Palladium to see if everything was all right. I instantly knew something was wrong when I saw all the FBI agents and Mr. Stark’s leisure car still parked on the street; naturally, the first place I thought to go for help was here.” He studied the unlikely duo’s injuries with a concerned frown twisting his features. “What happened?”

While Jack started to explain their turbulent evening to the butler, Daniel caught (Y/N)’s eye and led her a little way away for a quiet moment. “Look, (Y/N), I understand why you did what you did…I’d have probably done the same if I were in your shoes,” He admitted with a half-shrug. “But give her a little time, okay? It was a pretty major thing you two hid from her, after all.” (Y/N) silently nodded, and the crushing guilt filling her eyes caused his heart to lurch in sympathy; he ran a hand through his rumpled hair and sighed, the need to comfort his top codebreaker and friend suddenly overwhelming him. “Maybe it’ll be easier on her if she sees all the evidence you’ve gathered,” He offered, his encouraging smile widening a little when a hopeful gleam sparked to life in her (Y/E/C) eyes. “You two can bring everything to the SSR tomorrow and-”

“No can-do, Sousa.” They glanced over at Jack, whose hands were planted on his waist as he shook his head. “We’ve got reason to believe that the Secret Empire has a spy working here; that’s another reason we’ve been sneaking around behind your backs. ‘Sides, it’s not like we’ve got any hard evidence to show off; the only physical evidence we had was a bug planted in The Palladium but it was destroyed when Stompanato’s men attacked us.”

(Y/N) bit her lip and glanced down at the trampled clutch in her grasp, no doubt experiencing even more guilt, and weariness settled into Daniel’s body as he ran his fingers through his hair once again. “Well, then, I guess there’s nothing else we can do here tonight. I’d better go find Peg, see how she’s doing. I’ll give you two a ring tomorrow so we can figure out how to work on this case.”

Jarvis gave him a short nod and turned to (Y/N) with a kind-hearted smile. “Miss (Y/L/N), may I offer you a ride home? And you as well, Chief Thompson?”

“I need to speak with Thompson alone, if you two don’t mind; I’ll make sure he gets home okay.” His reassuring smile fell as he turned his attention onto Jack; the muscle in the chief’s jaw jumped but he stared back at him unwaveringly, even when the codebreaker shot him an inquisitive look. “We’ll talk in my office.”

Daniel nodded at (Y/N) and Jarvis before turning and limping back into the bullpen, ignoring Jack’s awkward goodbye to (Y/N) as he stormed into his office and hung his crutch onto its hook; just as he leaned against the edge of his desk, Jack strolled into the office and crossed his arms over his chest in a show of defiance. “If you’re expecting some sort of an apology, Sousa, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Does it look like I was born yesterday?” Daniel snorted in derision. “I learned a long time ago not to expect any accountability from you, Jack, but I’d just like to know why. Even before you uncovered Michael Carter’s involvement, why the hell would you hide all of this from us?”

Scoffing, Jack unfurled his arms and jabbed a finger into his own chest. “Well, seeing as I was the one who was shot and left for dead, I wanted to be the one to solve my own case; I got tired of waitin’ around this godforsaken city for you and Carter to solve it, so I took matters into my own hands. Does that answer your question, Chief?”

“You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d almost believe that half-baked reasoning of yours.” He crossed his arms over his chest as his irritation started to rise. “You’re working an angle, aren’t you?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, I’m not working any-”

“Cut the shit, Jack! You’re not gonna stand in my office and lie your ass off to my face, not after everything you did for Vernon Masters last summer!” Daniel raised his voice and Jack’s stony expression remained unchanged by his anger. “Peggy and I deserve better than that.”

“So, because Vernon Masters manipulated the entire SSR to serve his own self-interests, I have to report everything I say and do to you two for your approval?” Jack demanded. “Have you stopped to think that this holier-than-thou attitude you’ve developed since leavin’ the New York SSR is one of the reasons why I kept all this from you in the first place?” Stunned, Daniel blinked and remained silent, causing Jack to let out a mirthless laugh. “’Course you haven’t, accountability’s never been your style. Speaking of which, you ever apologize to Peggy for accusing her of being a Leviathan spy or did you decide to sweep it under the rug?”

Daniel clenched his fists but refused to rise to the chief’s bait. “Does (Y/N) know what you’re playing at, or are you keeping her out of the loop too?”

Jack’s blue eyes flashed dangerously and his nostrils flared as he snapped, “I don’t see where it’s any of your business, Sousa-”

“Well, it is my business, Jack, and based on some not-so-distant memories, I know that you’ve got an angle you’re working; I just wanna hear you admit to it before one of us finds it out for ourselves.”

“Okay, okay!” Jack ran a hand through his mussed hair and started to agitatedly pace, clearly aggravated by Daniel’s incessant questioning. “Look, it doesn’t take a genius to know that the SSR’s not gonna be around forever, Sousa, and I’d prefer not to be on board the sinking ship when it finally goes down. This case is gonna be my ticket into any federal agency I want, or maybe even somewhere in the political sector; the point is, I’m not planning on sticking with what I know is a lost cause.”

Daniel couldn’t keep himself from scoffing and shaking his head. “And here I thought you’d changed your charming power-hungry ways since the Zero Matter case. What about (Y/N)?”

The chief’s pacing slowed to a stop and Daniel’s brow furrowed as he watched him lower his head and fix his downcast gaze on his shining dress shoes. “What about her? We’re just partners working on a case together; once it’s closed, I’ll be headed to D.C. and she’ll still be here cracking codes.” He looked up, any hint of emotion wiped away by his hardened glare. “You got a problem with that?”

Just as Daniel opened his mouth to launch into a scathing retort, the memory of Jack comforting an upset (Y/N) back in the hallway sprang into his mind; the chief wore an expression of concern as he looked at the codebreaker but what caught Daniel off-guard the most was the unexplainable tenderness present in his blue eyes. He cares about (Y/N), Daniel thought to himself while he studied Jack’s indignant scowl, I don’t know in what way just yet but he cares about her. Whatever the case, it was clear that any topic concerning his relationship with the branch’s top codebreaker would be met with open hostility, so Daniel decided to let it go for the time being. “No, not at all.”

“Good. See you on Monday, Sousa.”

“Wait, Jack, I can still drive you home…” Daniel’s words trailed off as the fuming chief stormed out of his office and slammed the door closed behind him. “Asshole.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Daniel maneuvered himself into his desk chair and reached down to rifle through the desk’s bottom drawer, the events of the evening finally catching up to him as fatigue settled into his limbs. He withdrew a half-empty bottle of O’Harren’s, pouring a modest amount of the scotch whiskey into his empty coffee cup and nursing it as he lost himself in thought; the alcohol burned as it made its way down his throat, but it did nothing to alleviate the growing ache in his temples brought on by the newfound knowledge of Jack and (Y/N)’s secret investigation. Unable to choose between staying angry at Jack and worrying about the implications of the Secret Empire’s reemergence on post-war America, he replaced the top on the bottle of O’Harren’s before getting up and hobbling his way over to the window.

Across the street, Jarvis was holding the door of one of Howard Stark’s cars open for (Y/N), the pair of them shooting furtive looks at Peggy, who was sitting on a park bench just outside the Auerbach Theatrical Agency. The butler got into the driver’s seat and when he started the engine, the headlights illuminated Jack as he strode down the sidewalk; he slung his tuxedo jacket over his shoulder and spared Stark’s departing car one brief forlorn glance before looking away and continuing on his way. Daniel watched from his window as Peggy took a shuddering breath and brushed her tears away, and it only took moments for him to decide what needed to be done; grabbing the bottle of O’Harren’s in one hand and grasping onto his crutch with the other, he limped out of his office with only the intention of comforting his grief-stricken girlfriend in mind.

There was no doubt that stepping into the role of Chief of the West Coast SSR was one of the best decisions of Daniel’s life and one he’d never change in a million years. However, despite his loyalty to his leadership position and the SSR as a whole, he understood that from time to time, he could better help the people he truly cared about by setting his chiefly duties aside and simply being Daniel Sousa for a while. There’ll be plenty of time to worry about this Secret Empire mess, he thought to himself as he wrapped an arm around Peggy and let her cry into his shoulder, but it can wait just a little while longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I like writing in Daniel's POV, he's got such a nice balance of kindness and snark lol thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new one-shot. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iKzLZlEK1rTaSIiW5zRlk?si=97af3c9ce3ff4b65

“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up​ @fluffymadamina​ @remmyswritings​ @ourstarsailor @coffeeandcrimeshows​ @darkusangelus​ @josis-teacup​ @marvel-jackt-loki-buck​ @yeetyeetchickenmeat​ @sameoldbaby​ @theserenityspace​ @seeing-but-not-observing​ @supervoldejaygent​ @momc95​ @brooke0297​ @kinda-c0nfused​ @outoftheregular​ @mads-weasley​ @mostclevermiss​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @groovy-lady​ @xxruinaxxmcu​​ @deadlymistletoe

[marvelssssssss]

Misc

Main Library

DISCLAIMER - this is a LIBRARY, not a masterlist. I do not claim to have any ownership, rights, influence, or part in the creation of any of these works unless explicitly stated. These are just fics I have saved for my own reading and recommendations. If anyone’s fic is ever present on this list and would like to be removed please inform me immediately and I will take it down :)

A/B/O:

Claim

Vladamir Ranskahov:

The Assistant

Worth Fighting For

All the Right Words

Jack Thompson:

Specs and the Flyboy

A Handsome Idiot

6 Days of Surprises

What Lies Beneath

Headcanon

Marvel Masterlists:

xoxoavenger

captainsophiestark

ghostofskywalker

Eric Coulter:

Doublet

Jake Seresin:

Stay

Orc:

Hypothermia

MISC

Villainess and Prince of Light

God of Arepo

[swan-of-sunrise]

Me looking at my Steve Rogers, Loki Odinson, Din Djarin, and Jack Thompson fanfics:

my favorite genre of man is one that is head over heels obsessed with his love interest that he can barely be in her presence without screaming crying or throwing up

[swan-of-sunrise]

Low quality meme

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 1.1

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day One – A Tale of a Fateful Trip – Part 1 (Prologue)

Author: Gumnut

8 Dec 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 3490

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph

This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic and it is a big one ::headdesk:: I hope you enjoy it. I know I have thoroughly enjoyed researching a gorgeous corner of this planet.

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

And as always, thank you all for creating such a fantastic fandom. Thundernerds rock! I hope you all have a wonderful festive season. Thank you all so much for everything.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

 Day One: A Tale of a Fateful Trip

Virgil was miserable.

Pain was minimal as long as he didn’t move too much. He didn’t really even need any of the painkillers that he was given to take with him at the hospital. It was just that he knew his brothers were tired, and despite the attractions of the beautiful city of Auckland, all they really wanted to do was go home.

His brothers could quite easily do just that. The ‘birds were at the local GDF base, it would be a matter of minutes and they would be home. But Virgil wasn’t allowed off the ground, they wouldn’t risk him and they wouldn’t leave him behind, no matter how many times he told them to do just that.

The glare Scott raked him with the last time he suggested it had been scathing.

Didn’t make him feel any better.

Grandma, of course, sensed his sadness and was known to slip up behind the couch he was chained to and wrap her arms around him. She kissed his hair and mumbled reassuring words in his ear.

He was ever so grateful, but he was still miserable.

Balled up cartridge paper lay about his feet. His pencil just wouldn’t create anything of value. Creating gave him a boost, and he desperately wanted to feel something positive, so he persisted, but the pile of balled up paper at his feet just got bigger and in the end he threw the pad and pencil aside, wincing when the pencil hit the table and likely destroyed the lead inside.

With a groan he levered his feet onto the couch and curled up into a flinching ball of misery.

His brain conveniently listed off all the positives about his life, everything he should be thankful for and all the reasons he shouldn’t be feeling sorry for himself. That just made him angry and annoyed that he was so pathetic.

God, he hated this.

He wasn’t really that ill. Just had some small difficulty moving and couldn’t fly to go home.

His family was suffering and it was all his damn fault.

“Hey, Virg?” The voice was soft, but it was definitely Scott testing to see if he was awake.

“What?” So he was grumpy, big deal.

“You’re awake.”

Well, yeah. He didn’t answer that.

Scott edged into his line of sight. Maybe his brother sensed his foul mood.

Of course, that thought just made him feel worse. The word ‘burden’ came to mind.

He closed his eyes, took a second, and then forced himself once again upright. Familiar hands reached into help, gently holding his shoulders until he was steady. “I’m fine.”

Scott shifted the detritus over on the coffee table and sat down in front of Virgil, his long frame folding neatly and a lot smoother than Virgil had any hope of achieving at the moment. “How would you like to go home?”

Virgil looked up at him. “How? I can’t fly.”

“Flight is only one way to get to Tracy Island.” He smiled. “We have a very versatile aquanaut on our team.”

Virgil stared at him. “Thunderbird Four? It’s just as pressurised as Two. Carries the same risks.”

The smile softened. “No, Virgil, Gordon can pilot more than a submarine. He’s bought us a boat.”

“A boat?”

“Actually, technically it is a yacht and a luxury one at that.” Gordon’s grin was broad and eager as he entered the room. “All aboard for Tracy Island, bro. She’s got all the perks and enough under the hood to get us there in time for Christmas.”

Virgil stared at him. Then stared at Scott. “Really?”

Scott’s smile was a sight. “I really don’t know why we didn’t think of it earlier.”

“Because all you pilot types live in the clouds.” Gordon strode up to his eldest brother and dug him one in the ribs before turning to Virgil. “So, what do you say, Virg? Up for a little cruise? Should take us about three days. Kayo and Grandma have gone Christmas shopping and will likely haul half of New Zealand’s food supply back in Two. Scott’s already stashed One and Tracy Two can stay until we need to pick her up.” Gordon had obviously worked out all the details. His brother was literally bouncing where he stood. But then it wasn’t often the aquanaut got to ferry his family around.

Virgil stared at his brothers. “Us three?”

Scott’s smile became a grin. “No, us five. All of us.”

“Five bachelors cruising on the open sea.” Gordon waved his hand across the room as if peering into a far horizon.

Virgil arched an eyebrow at him. All of them. All five brothers. Together. On a boat. For three days. His gaze turned to Scott. “You sure you want to do this?”

There was something in his brother’s blue eyes. “I’m sure.”

Virgil straightened where he sat. Surprisingly, he felt lighter, more positive. Could be the energy radiating off Gordon. His brother was always a bucket of sunshine in the rain. “Okay. When do we leave?”

“Yes.” Gordon actually fist pumped the air. Virgil couldn’t help but grin. “Now, big bro, pack your bags, we are going now.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Now?” That explained why he had been alone all morning.

But Scott had already started moving, Virgil’s meagre pile of supplies being shoved into the overnight bag that had sufficed for his hospital stay. “Well, we want to be home for Christmas, so we have to get going.”

Virgil moved to stand up.

Gordon stepped in front of him. “Hey, no, you stay there. This is a full service operation, Virg. We’ve got this.”

Another arched eyebrow was an answer to that, but Gordon was as good as his word and before Virgil could think twice, he was in a car, luggage in the trunk and on his way to the docks.

-o-o-o-

Scott was tired. It had been a long...well, everything. International Rescue never stopped, Tracy Industries never stopped and apparently, his brothers never stopped.

Virgil had scared him.

Okay, so nowadays appendicitis was a mild inconvenience, but in the past it was a killer and a painful and sudden one at that. Perhaps it was because it was something innocuous, something not related to a rescue and so out of the blue that it knocked Scott around so badly. But what worried him more was that his brother had ignored the warning signs of serious illness in favour of International Rescue. It wasn’t the first time and he wasn’t the only one of the brothers to do such a thing. Hell, Scott himself had done it. Lives had been saved despite injury and illness many times. But perhaps this was a louder warning. Perhaps they should be taking better care of themselves.

Grandma’s scathing words had driven it home. The Tracys were taking this Christmas off. They were due the time, they were tired, Virgil was ill. Any of those three on their own were cause for concern. All three together forced their matriarch to lay down the law.

Scott knew his place.

And she was right.

But their dilemma was a frustrating one. None of his brothers, particularly John, could fully relax away from home. There were celebrity issues to begin with, and this forced idleness rankled badly.

So, when Gordon suggested they go home via sea, Scott jumped on the idea wondering why he hadn’t thought of it earlier. Three days on the ocean. They would still be idle, but they would be away from restrictions, out beneath the blue sky and they could be home for Christmas.

And how long had it been since all five of them had been together like that? Had it happened since they were children on one of Dad’s road trips?

Scott swallowed as the car with himself, Virgil and Gordon made its way down to the docks. The sight of the ocean lifted his spirits more than he would ever admit to his aquanaut brother.

The vehicle slipped through a security checkpoint and into a private area.

“Isn’t she a beauty?” Gordon was bouncing again, this time in his seat. The aquanaut was going to have the time of his life over this little trip. Scott couldn’t help but smile at his happiness.

And yes, the boat was a gorgeous craft, even to a flyboy like himself. She had clean lines and looked fast sitting still. White with a streak of yellow down her length...no doubt, very recently applied along with the name on her bow, A Little Lightning.

She was large, but not huge. Just big enough for five tired brothers to live in comfort and fly fast over the waves.

Gordon was spouting off her specs to a politely interested Virgil. Scott tilted his head to one side...no, that spark in his engineer brother’s eyes spoke of genuine curiosity. Scott smirked just a little. Might need to watch Virg for the first couple of days to keep him out of the engine. He could pull it apart and put it back together once they were home and he was better.

Scott lent his brother a hand to get out of the car. He was still walking slowly, careful of his incisions, but he was a touch straighter than a couple days ago and he was off medication - though that was no surprise. Getting him to take any medication at any time was a challenge.

“She’s beautiful, Gordon. How did you find her so fast?”

Their brother grinned. “I have friends, Virg. You know, those people you can share a drink with from time to time.”

Virgil’s flat eyed glare was more fond than exasperated. “How much money did you throw at these friends?”

A shrug was all the answer he gave. “It’s worth it.”

“Give me a number and I’ll throw it your way.” Virgil was sincerity itself.

“Forget it, bro. Not required.” The hand waved in Virgil’s direction was entirely dismissive. “Just have a look, Virg. This girl has speed!” And the discussion devolved into specs again as the two of them walked towards the pier.

Hmm, apparently, Scott was cabin boy today.

To be honest, he didn’t care.

Loading himself with luggage, he followed their slow progress onto the dock.

-o-o-o-

John wasn’t much of a sailor, but when Gordon suggested the trip, he jumped on it.

Out in the middle of the ocean he could see the stars unhindered, it would be quiet except for the wind, water and their boat and, to be honest, it would be good to just be with his brothers uninterrupted.

And besides, on Earth, the ocean was the closest he could get to the weightless freedom of space.

So the astronaut was happy to help prep the boat. Being a resident of Tracy Island required at least some marine knowledge for safety’s sake and it felt good to exercise it for a change.

Alan was a little less enthusiastic until John mentioned a new video game recently released in beta. He had meant to mention it to his littlest brother some weeks ago, but life got in the way. Years ago, the two of them used to tackle each other in various games and they hadn’t done so in ages. John had contributed to this game at the request of a couple of associates from college. It was a high level space simulator matched with an adventure storyline. It should have a good enough mix of reality and fantasy to keep the hi-octane teenager amused in those moments of too much quiet.

Gordon had already allocated some time to some extra-curricular activities around the Kermadec Island group south of Tracy Island, so there would be plenty of the softer sciences to go around somewhere in their second day of the voyage.

John smiled at Gordon’s reaction to the term ‘softer sciences’. He hadn’t known his younger brother actually knew the definition of the word he used. Then again usage didn’t always prove understanding. A few more words in Swedish at a later date should clarify that situation.

As he placed the last of their food supplies into refrigeration, he heard the first distant rumble of a familiar voice, followed by the excited chatter of his aquanaut brother.

His smile widened and he made his way out onto the deck. Virgil had an arm tight against his belly, but his expression was excited as Gordon rabbited on about the engine specifications of his new boat.

Well, John, Alan and Scott had contributed to the cost of the boat, but it really was Gordon’s regardless. None of them really cared about it other than it getting them and their brothers home safely. Gordon was the one who loved a good ocean-going vessel and this was definitely a brilliant contender.

John rolled his eyes at Virgil as he offered him a hand getting onboard and his brother grinned at him. A few solid steps and the engineer got his feet securely on the boat. His brown eyes caught John’s and he suddenly found himself caught in one of his bear hugs. Perhaps not as rigorous as usual, but just as warm.

John couldn’t help, but hug back.

“Hey, where’s mine? This was my idea, after all.”

Virgil laughed and wrapped his arms around Gordon. “Thanks, fishy.” It was brief, but all three men were grinning as the two brothers separated.

“Well, that’s sweet and all, but some of us have to work for a living.” John smirked as Scott arrived at the water’s edge draped in luggage. A quick leap onto the dock and he helped him shed bags and the odd suitcase and with Gordon’s help, lug them onto the yacht.

Virgil was hugging Alan, who had emerged from the cabin.

John nudged Scott. Under his breath, “He okay?”

“Seems happy enough about the boat.” A sigh. “Looked miserable enough to sink it before I told him.”

“Let’s hope it cheers him up.”

“Let’s hope it cheers us all up. It’s Christmas, for crying out loud.” Scott grabbed the bag with Virgil’s art equipment, which had been added to without the artist’s knowledge and clambered onto the boat and headed in the direction of the cabin assigned to Virgil.

Gordon had dragged Virgil up to what he called ‘The Bridge’, what Scott called ‘The Cockpit’ and what was blatantly and obviously the control centre of the yacht - it would be flyboys versus fish for the entire voyage, no doubt. Said fish could be heard still babbling excitedly to his engineer brother.

John made a note to rescue the invalid if necessary.

Between John and Scott, they unloaded the last pieces of luggage and sent the driver on his way with a generous tip. John ran the supplies list through his head. Gordon had managed all the permits and regulations an international voyage by sea required and there were quite a few. There was less red tape in space.

Of course, when your daughter is an AI, the red tape moves just that little faster. And yes, he did smile to himself. He couldn’t help it.

-o-o-o-

A Little Lightning left dock just after the tide turned midafternoon. It would have been better to leave early in the morning, but time was what it was and they set out when they could. It had been decided that between the autopilot and four out of five brothers and no, Virgil, you are not piloting this ship, so forget it, they could make up the time overnight.

“It’s a boat, Scott.”

“Semantics, Gordon.”

“Reality, Scott.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Are we going to hear this discussion the entire way?” He had stashed himself in a comfortable seat at the back of the ‘bridge’. He had a great view of Waitemata Harbour as they cruised slowly past the CBD of Auckland itself. The weather was fantastic and the sea calm as glass. The forecast said the same for the next three days and the only stormy hints were in his brothers’ eyes.

“Regardless of the type of craft, Virgil, you aren’t able to drive a car at the moment, much less pilot a boat.” Emphasis was put on the word ‘boat’ as his eldest brother glared like a petulant child at his aquanaut brother.

“Fine. I’ll be chauffeured.”

Gordon snorted as he directed the yacht between past an incoming liner. “Now you know how it feels.”

“Know what feels?”

“Not being allowed to drive.”

Virgil glared at his brother, but couldn’t think of an adequate retort.

Alan snickered.

“Shut up, Alan.” Okay, so perhaps Gordon had a point. “She’s my ‘bird, Gordon.”

“It’s okay, Virg. We understand, don’t we, guys.” Gordon grinned back at him. John smiled. Alan rolled his eyes.

Scott shrugged. “I don’t have a problem. Virgil doesn’t hesitate to let me fly Thunderbird Two.”

“You’re hardly ever on Two.”

“So? Virgil doesn’t have a problem with me flying Two, do you Virg?”

Four pairs of eyes stared at him in challenge, but not all from the same perspective.

“Er...”

“You think Scott is a better pilot that the rest of us?” Alan was always the direct one.

Virgil opened his mouth, but his eldest brother beat him to it. “I am a better pilot than all of you.”

“What?!” It was an offended scoff from the two youngest.

“Though I will admit that you each have your specialities with your ‘birds. Virgil is much better with Two than I am, for example.”

“And you are totally pathetic in Four, let me tell you.” Gordon was staring out across the bow, but there was still a smirk on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“Who buried my girl in sea sludge recently?”

“That was unavoidable.”

Gordon spun on the spot. “What?! You’re still claiming you had no choice? I gave you recommendations on comms, you ignored them and look what happened, oh mighty pilot. You may be the greatest in the air, but you suck underwater, Scott, face it.”

“And I can run rings around you in Three, trust me on that.” Alan folded his arms and stuck his nose in the air.

“Hey!” Virgil shouted and cut off the discussion. “What the hell? You’re all damn good and fine pilots, no matter the craft. So, I’m a control freak with my girl. You’re all the same. When was the last time I piloted any of your craft? I’m fully trained and fully capable as any of you are, but she is my ‘bird and while I’m alive and kicking, I will fly her. That is no reflection on your capability, only on mine. And for god’s sake, get over it.”

Okay, so he got a little angry. It wasn’t his best attempt at diffusing an argument, ever, but the dumb ass looks directed at him were at least silent ones.

“Now stop fighting and let us enjoy this trip.” He blinked. “And Gordon, you might want to avoid that oncoming container ship.”

The aquanaut jumped and the yacht swerved as he shifted her quickly to the left to give way to the massive cargo carrier bearing down on them. The sharp dirge of the ship’s horn emphasised her captain’s ire at their deviation into his vessel’s path.

“Sorry!”

It was a vain apologetic gesture of his little brother’s part. It did put an effective end to their argument nonetheless.

There were many islands at the mouth of Auckland’s main harbour and it was extremely scenic, particularly the volcanoes.

Virgil was intimately familiar with volcanic structures and had visited several as part of IR, he understood their power and had witnessed it first hand, but the artist in him never failed to be caught by their symmetry and their mystery. They still caught his imagination and stunned him.

As they accelerated around the islands and out into the bay proper, the sea opened out into a beautifully flat expanse of watery blue. They were still surrounded on all sides by distant patches of green. Another little volcanic island reared up and they cruised past. A couple of dolphins danced along in the wake at their bow. John helped Virgil climb up the stairs to the railing at the front of the boat. He twinged several times, but ignored it despite the frown of Scott following up behind him.

It was worth it to stand up the front, the wind in his hair, a brother either side of him. The last of the islands passed by and the ocean opened up in front of them.

Dolphins continued to keep them company.

Both Scott and John kept a grip on an arm each, wary of him stressing himself in any way. Virgil turned his face into the wind and closed his eyes, letting the sensations fill his mind.

“Better?” It was a whisper from Scott, barely heard above the rush of air over his ears.

Virgil smiled.

“Better.”

-o-o-o-

End Day One, Part One.

Day One, Part Two

[swan-of-sunrise]

I love and appreciate every comment that's left on my writing, but I honestly do enjoy when someone goes into specifics about what they liked. Not only does it tell me what works within the context of the story, but it also informs any of my future writing 💖

Fanfiction Cheat Code: If you really like something someone wrote and wish there were more fics like that, be specific in your reviews. Highlight particular lines, motifs, tropes, and such that you really enjoyed. Writers will often keep that in mind when writing new work. 

[swan-of-sunrise]

Me logging off Tumblr after once again posting an angst-heavy chapter with a massive cliffhanger:

my followers happily basking in the fluff of my fanfiction, none the wiser:

me, unhinged and knowing i’m about to destroy them with angst:

[fashiontrendin-blog]

The Ultimate Guide To The Bomber Jacket

http://fashion-trendin.com/the-ultimate-guide-to-the-bomber-jacket/

The Ultimate Guide To The Bomber Jacket

A ‘bomber’ has become an umbrella term for a jacket practically every man has in his wardrobe these days: short, zip or button-up, cropped hems, knitted cuffs, a little attitude and a lot of versatility. However, there are many variations of the bomber jacket and this broad, undefined brushstroke it’s been painted with belies its original functionality and purpose; which was to serve pilots in the military.

But the bomber jacket – in all its mutations – has become much more than a relic of time-gone-by; it’s shed its war-time skin and become one of the most popular outerwear pieces of all time. It has featured in numerous classic films, been adopted on and off-screen by everyone from Marlon Brando to Ryan Gosling, and played a part in the uniforms of countless subcultures and style tribes. In short: never in the field of menswear has so much been owed by so many.

“The [bomber jacket’s] silhouette is universally flattering,” Alexandre Mattiussi, founder of young Parisian label Ami, tells FashionBeans. “It’s cinched in at the waist while keeping a broad shoulder, and it’s also immensely practical. It’s perfect as a mid-season piece – not as heavy as a coat and can be layered, so it’s versatile.”

The History Of The Bomber Jacket

The bomber jacket is just one of many menswear pieces with a heritage entrenched within the armed forces. Similar to the peacoat, trench coat and parka, the bomber has a timeless appeal that transcends seasons and trends; it was born out of military means and has adapted to form part of popular culture.

The first iteration of this endlessly cool jacket can be traced back to the 1920s. Before this, airmen wore longer, heavyweight shearling jackets that kept them warm – cockpits were open-air at this point – but were largely impractical. The hem needed to be shortened to allow increased movement when piloting, cuffs needed to be knitted to restrict airflow up the arms, and large pockets needed to be added for essential airborne items.

America’s answer was the US Army Type A-1, which was first issued in 1927. From then on, the basic bomber recipe was set. In the successive years, the A-1 was altered and reinvigorated in various forms, from the A-2 that followed in 1931 with its zip, button snaps and leather collar, to the nylon MA-1 introduced in the 1950s.

The bomber’s popularity with civilians is not surprising, especially when you consider the cultural icons pictured in one. Think Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire, Steve McQueen in The Great Escape or Tom Cruise in Top Gun. These films placed the bomber jacket in starring roles.

The bomber has also long been associated with skinheads, from the 1980s-era subculture itself to Ewan McGregor’s Mark Renton wearing a khaki version in the opening scene of Trainspotting. More recently, style icons from Ryan Gosling to Kanye West to David Beckham have worn it, the jacket if your look is preppy, hip-hop, Scandi, sports luxe or streetwear.

Key Bomber Jacket Designs

A-1

The A-1 was the first mass-produced flight jacket to be issued to the US Army in 1927. Early pieces were made from tough sheep leather and lined with cotton, with later models being cut from goatskin or horsehide. Uniquely, the jacket featured a button-up front, a characteristic much less common today. A knitted collar, cuffs and waistband were also integral to the jacket’s flyboy cool, as were the two large flap pockets at the hip.

Headwind MFG Co USAAC A-1 Flying Jacket

Irvin Flying Jacket

The ‘Irvin’ RAF Flying Jacket was Britain’s answer to the US bomber and the first iteration of the shearling pilot jacket that would keep thousands of pilots warm during the Second World War. First produced in 1931, the Irvin was fully lined and featured a wider fit to accommodate heavy knitwear underneath. Despite being close to a century old, its belted waist, zip-up cuffs and large collar continue to inspire designers today.

Imperial War Museum RAF Irvin Flying Jacket

A-2

The successor to the A-1 bomber, the A-2 differed by boasting a zip front as opposed to buttons, a leather collar as opposed to knitted, and shoulder epaulettes. It remains one of the most recognisable bomber jacket styles, though more modern takes have removed the epaulettes on the shoulders and simplified the pocket designs, giving the jacket a neater silhouette and more contemporary feel.

Cockpit USA 40th Anniversary A-2 Flight Jacket

G-1

Based on the M422A model that came before it, the G-1 jacket of the 1940s looks similar to the A-1, with the most notable departure being the addition of a sheepskin collar. Another classic bomber style that has been replicated numerous times in the decades that followed it, the G-1 was utilised in the military even up until the Korean War in the 1950s. Menswear doesn’t get much more masculine than this.

Cockpit USA U.S. Navy Issue Mil Spec G-1 Jacket

MA-1

First taking flight in 1950, the MA-1 re-wrote the bomber rulebook. A consequence of cost-saving measures and the rise of jet air travel, the MA-1 was made from lightweight nylon and featured a distinctive bright orange lining to allow stranded pilots a way to become more visible to allies. Characterised by a simple zip front, slanted flap pockets and a zip arm pocket, the MA-1 is the most recognisable bomber style and its subtle swagger has seen it widely adopted in fashion and streetwear.

Alpha Industries MA-1 Flight Jacket

College/Varsity Jackets

While collegiate jackets shouldn’t technically fall on this list, it could be argued that early bombers heavily influenced the design and, certainly today, they fall under the category according to many designers. Varsity-style jackets boast a similar silhouette to the bomber, worn as a badge of honour by mid-century American students sporting their university’s colours, often with the first letter of the institution pinned to the chest. The style has since graduated to the worlds of hip-hop and streetwear with full menswear honours.

Harvard Varsity Jacket

The Modern Bomber Jacket

Unless you’ve been taking cover under a soundproof rock, you won’t have failed to notice the bomber jacket flying high in recent years. Where other trends run out of fuel after a few seasons, designers continue to pull on the jacket’s practical appeal years after their reintroduction to the masses.

According to Karen Hall, head of design at contemporary menswear label FoR, it’s the bomber’s timeless nature that has ensured it remains a permanent fixture. “It’s probably the most versatile jacket style, which is another reason why it has stood the test of time,” she says. “It’s an iconic menswear piece that over the decades has remained a key jacket in every man’s wardrobe.”

One of the most influential modern designers when it comes to bomber jackets is Kim Jones. During his seven-year stint as the men’s artistic director of Louis Vuitton, Jones propelled the bomber into the limelight, showcasing everything from an orange silk version for spring/summer 2015 to metallic and nylon styles for his final autumn/winter 2018 show.

Other high-end labels, including Burberry, Lanvin and Valentino, started to back the bomber from around 2011, while a second wave of bombers came when cult brands like Vetements and Balenciaga showcased oversized versions of the MA-1 that have since become a staple streetwear silhouette.

Alongside runway appearances, the style has continued to steal scenes on the big screen. Even 007 got on board, with Daniel Craig sporting an Armani bomber jacket for his debut Bond film, 2006’s Casino Royale, while Ryan Gosling became a poster boy for the style when in Drive he threw on that now-infamous silver zip-up jacket with the embroidered scorpion on the back.

Depending on the iteration you go for, it’s possible to authentically reference the jacket’s air force history. But with a slew of designers from high-end to high street interpreting the bomber season after season, it can be worn in whichever way you choose; from formal looks with a shirt and tie to minimalist ensembles.

“Over the past few seasons, [the bomber] has gone through somewhat of a transformation with [styles] now available oversized, fitted, hooded, streetwise or smart,” says Mr Porter style director Olie Arnold.

Ryan Gosling wearing a bomber jacket in Drive (2011)

Ultimately, the bomber jacket is what you make of it. Regardless of your style, there’ll be one to suit your look, especially given that it’s also available in an increasingly broad selection of fabrics, from velvet and satin to soft moleskin.

The Weeknd perhaps summed it up best, when he told Billboard in 2017, “For my generation, the bomber jacket is like a replacement for the suit jacket. It’s a piece that men wear every day, and it’s something that I would wear for any occasion, whether it’s on the street or going to an awards ceremony. For me, bomber jackets are smart, but they are also street and have a lot of attitude.”

Bomber Jacket Style Tips

Stick To The Classics

The proportions of the bomber jacket shift subtly from season to season according to trends but, as Ami’s Mattiussi says, a classically shaped bomber in a timeless fabric is always going to last. “Layered with a roll neck, or over an untucked shirt is how I imagine they’re worn by the cool kids.”

If In Doubt, Go Minimal

While details such as zipper pull rings and map linings once served an essential purpose, some of the best modern takes on the bomber jacket have such additions stripped away. The primary benefit of skewing minimal with your jacket is that it becomes even easier and more versatile to wear, especially if you’re attempting to make it smart.

Watch Out Below

Owing to the neat lines of the bomber’s cropped body, it’s a jacket that can serve as the perfect co-pilot to a range of trouser fits. However, arguably it looks best when balanced out with slim-fitting and cropped styles, either in a tonal or contrasting shade.

Experiment With Tailoring

With traditional suits falling out of favour in recent years thanks to menswear’s new relaxed direction, the bomber jacket has stepped up and established itself as a viable alternative to full tailoring. Try using one in place of a blazer, pair with a T-shirt or lightweight knit and finish with sneakers.

5 Key Bomber Jacket Styles

Navy Minimal MA-1

Undoubtedly the easiest form of bomber to wear, a pared-back version of the MA-1 jacket in navy should be at the top of your list. With a slimmer body and no zip pocket on the upper arm, this minimal take can be worn with selvedge denim, tailored trousers, tracksuit bottoms, wide-leg chinos – the choice is yours.

Leather

A leather jacket might seem like an obvious choice, but care should still be taken when choosing to invest. It’s easy to get it wrong with leather, so aim for a quality hide that will get better with age, in a fit that is slim but not restricting.

Suede

Suede has never really been unpopular when it comes to outerwear, but it’s never been particularly convenient either. Don’t let constant fears of sudden downpours put you off though – few jackets are cooler than a suede bomber. This is also your chance to play with colour because the dull lustre of the fabric somewhat mutes brighter tones.

College/Varsity Jacket

The college or varsity jacket is an easy way to inject a youthful edge to any look – simply throw one on over a pair of jeans and trainers, and you’re good to go. This style has had something of a renaissance in recent years, with numerous brands taking the classic template and making it their own.

Statement

Outerwear always offers a good chance to make a statement, and the bomber jacket is no different. Whether you opt for an embroidered souvenir jacket or go oversized, just remember to keep the rest of your outfit clean and simple to avoid flying into comedy territory.

[pkansa]

When last we covered AVI-8 (you know, just yesterday) we were introducing you to their new Centenary collection, which is focused in on historical references, rather than pulling ideas from gauge clusters and the like.  In that 1920s review, I teased that we had a review coming up of the AVI-8 Flyboy Centenary 1940.  Well, dear reader, today is your lucky day, because we’re delivering on that promise right here and now.

�� It should surprise no one that I requested to see the blue-dialed version of the AVI-8 Flyboy Centenary 1940 (ref AV-4059-02).  There is just something about a crisp blue and white dial (particularly when set into a steel case) that just feels right.  Speaking of cases, this appears (to my highly uncalibrated eye) to be the same case as we saw on the 1920 – 42mm, 12mm thick, sapphire crystal, etc, etc.  It makes sense, particularly as they’re housing the same movement (an automatic Miyota 8218) in a cost-savings manner, as well as a design language continuity.

That then begs the question, what makes the AVI-8 Flyboy Centenary 1940 different from the 1920?  Well, first and foremost, it’s that dial.  While the 1920s (LINK) had that vintage art deco look, here, we’ve got very much more of a flinger-style feel with the handset, double-dotted triangle, no-nonsense numerals on the sector dial, as well as the diamond crown.  That means that – if I had to guess – this is the reference that is going to resonate a good bit more with buyers, as it’s the more familiar look.

Though, it’s not completely familiar.  The AVI-8 Flyboy Centenary 1940 does bring a sector dial to the party, which is something we don’t commonly see on a flieger.  AVI-8 also pulled one of their favorite tricks out of the bag by putting a texture on the dial, which gives things a nice variation, as well as scattering the light that it reflects.  Like on the 1920s, there is additional text (brand and model family), but it works here with their standard font.

Also improved on the AVI-8 Flyboy Centenary 1940?  The strap.  It’s a grayish padded strap, much more comfortable than the one I experienced on the 1920s.  It’s still not as high of a quality as if you visited the aftermarket, but it is a good sight nicer than the one on the 1920s. And the grey color they went with for it?  Spot on with that blue dial.

Given that the case is the same, I found the AVI-8 Flyboy Centenary 1940 a comfortable day-to-day companion as well.  It didn’t hurt that blue and grey fit in with my ensemble fairly well, and the watch itself – though it does have it’s own little details to set it apart – is one that can fly under the radar, so to speak.  And while the white on blue color scheme may not be quite as contrasty as white on black, it still is an eminently readable watch.  And I can’t fault the inclusion of a darker date wheel either, which is not as common at the price point this watch goes at.

Speaking of price – the AVI-8 Flyboy Centenary 1940 is going to be carrying a retail price tag of $340. Just as with the 1920s version, there’s going to be a two-phase pre-order period that is going to drop the price a bit (we’ve not been told how much as of yet).  The regular pre-order period is going to launch on March 7th, with general availability occurring on March 22nd.  Now, if you pre-order, you will get a discount.  However, if you visit this page between February 13th and February 19th, you’ll be able to sign up (not to pre-order, but to indicate interest) which will net you an additional discount on top of the pre-order savings.

With that, we’ll wrap things up on these watches.  If you’re thinking about pre-ordering but have questions, feel free to pop on over to our Slack channel, and I’ll do my best to answer whatever might be on your mind with these watches.  And hey, even if you aren’t thinking about ordering one of these, join us over on Slack anyways.  There’s some great discussions going on over there, and we’d love to have you.  AVI-8.CO.UK

Watch Overview

Brand & Model: AVI-8 Flyboy Centenary 1940

Price: $340 (MSRP)

Who we think it might be for:  You want a vintage-styled aviator that still feels modern

Would I buy one for myself based on what I’ve seen? Yes, I could see that with this one

If I could make one design suggestion, it would be:  One wonders what this would look like on a bracelet…

What spoke to me the most about this watch:  That blue-and-white dial

Tech Specs from AVI-8

Movement:  Miyota 8218 automatic (21 jewels)

Case:

316L stainless steel

Diameter:  42mm

Thickness:  12mm

Lug width:  22mm

Crystal:  Sapphire

Dial:

Colored Patterned Dial in linen, blue, or black

Deep Embossed Indexes with LumiNova (the linen dial version does not have lume on indices)

LumiNova-filled Hands

Crown:  Normal

Bezel:  Fixed Case Bezel

Strap:  leather with tang buckle

Functions:  date display, subseconds

WR:  5 ATM

Weight:  80g

Introducing the @avi__8 Flyboy Centenary 1940 #vintage #aviator #watch #preorder #under$500 When last we covered AVI-8 (you know, just yesterday) we were introducing you to their new Centenary collection, which is focused in on historical references, rather than pulling ideas from gauge clusters and the like.  

[life-is-a-tamasha]

Yess please!!!!!?

Hire her @marvel

I want to see this so bad…

[swan-of-sunrise]

Turning Point (Tales From The SSR)

Summary: An influenza outbreak incapacitates the 107th Tactical Team while out in the field and as they work to nurse (Y/N) back to health, Steve and Peggy finally have a moment alone.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers X Reader (Platonic), Bucky Barnes X Reader (Slight)

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! This one-shot was originally gonna be about something else entirely, but it sort of evolved into this and I went along with it lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Turning Point March 1944 The Forests of Mount Oeta, Axis-Occupied Greece (Previous One-Shot)

Three months after their official formation, the 107th Tactical Team found themselves camping out in the dense forests of Mount Oeta as they traveled through Greece to destroy the second of five Hydra bases scattered throughout Europe. The intelligence they’d received from the SOE and several Greek Resistance groups pointed to the Hydra facility – a weapons manufacturing plant similar to the Austrian factory in Kreischberg that many of their team had recently been held in as POW’s – being located near the village of Gorgopotamos. They’d been ordered to stand by for further approval from their commanding officers at the Strategic Scientific Reserve and not long after setting up camp in a frosty clearing, nearly every member of their team came down with influenza.

Falsworth, Dugan and Morita were the first of them to fall ill, quickly followed by Dernier, Jones and Peggy; Bucky seemed to luck out, only suffering very mild symptoms that cleared up after twenty-four hours and thanks to the super-soldier serum flowing through Steve’s veins, he was spared from catching the infection. (Y/N), being the only other person who hadn’t succumbed to the illness, helped Steve and Bucky care for the others and slowly nursed all six of their comrades back to health. However, it was then that the codebreaker herself finally came down sick and unfortunately, her symptoms were the worst by far; as the hours turned into a day and a day turned into two, she showed little to no sign of improvement and an unspoken fear of losing their beloved codebreaker slowly filled them all one by one. And since he was the leader of their tactical team and responsible for every single member he’d personally recruited, Steve was wracked with a heavy guilt that only continued to grow the sicker (Y/N) became.

“Cap? You with me, Cap?”

Steve tore his gaze away from the makeshift medical tent they’d erected at the start of their camp’s epidemic and looked over at Morita, who was sitting cross-legged on his standard-issue sleeping bag and attempting to tune their scuffed Stark Industries radio. “Sorry, Morita. What was it?”

“I was just askin’ you if you think we should use the radio transceiver to call for help.” He patted the portable SCR-300 unit as his chapped lips pursed in worry. “I know that Stark said it’s only got enough juice for one long-distance transmission, but (Y/L/N)’s not gettin’ any better and-”

“That transceiver’s our only way of receiving the order from headquarters to move in and we can’t afford to jeopardize this mission by using up its one and only transmission,” Steve replied, hating the tactical words he found himself uttering despite the indisputable truth they held. “I wish we could, but we have our orders.”

A disappointed but understanding look crossed Morita’s face, and he gave Steve a short nod before returning his attention to the radio resting on his lap. Steve’s jaw tightened in an effort to remain composed as he detected the faint sounds of the codebreaker vomiting into a bucket and as he paced around the wide clearing, he took a moment to survey their camp and its morose occupants; their days-long trek through the mountains of Greece meant that they’d all been cut off from any news of their friends and family back home, and (Y/N)’s poor health had only lowered their already dwindling morale. Falsworth and Dernier – both distracted by worry for their families’ safety back home in a post-Operation Steinbock England and Nazi-Occupied France – were heading off to their sentry duties while Dugan and Jones – who were on-edge since they’d caught wind of the successful sinking of the USS Grayback by Japanese aircraft off the coast of Okinawa, yet another American ship sunk since the start of the war – were coming back from their patrol. Morita, unable to contact his mother and grandparents imprisoned in a Japanese internment camp back home in the States, was preoccupying himself with tuning their battered radio so that they could catch up to date with any news from the front. Some leader I am, Steve scoffed at himself and kicked at a fallen pinecone as he paced, if I can’t lead them like this then how am I gonna keep them safe out there on the battlefield?

Hearing Dugan and Jones’ heavy footsteps approaching, Steve wiped the apprehensive look off his face and replaced it with a more stoic stare as he turned to face both men. “How’s (Y/L/N) doin’?” The tense silence of the camp was punctuated by the sounds of dry heaving emanating from the medical tent, causing all three men to wince in sympathy. “Poor kid. I really don’t know how we’re gonna get her back on her feet, seeing as we all used up the last of the medicine.”

“That gal’s a fighter, Dum Dum; you hear how she cussed out Monty when he tried takin’ her temperature this morning?” A smirk tugged at the corner of Jones’ lips as he shook his head and slung his rifle’s strap over his shoulder. “I think I’d rather try snatching a hungry bobcat’s dinner away than mess around with a sick Agent (Y/L/N).”

Before either of them could reply, the flap covering the entrance of the medical tent was thrown open and a worried-looking Bucky emerged with a bucket in his arms, making a bee-line towards the trio of men the moment he spotted them. “All right, the good news is that I think we’re close to breaking her fever and lowering her body temperature.”

While both Dugan and Jones breathed a sigh of relief, the expression on his best friend’s face made Steve frown and brusquely ask, “And the bad news?”

“She’s severely dehydrated and the lack of food’s startin’ to get to her; things are gonna go south real quick if we don’t get some food and water into her soon.” Bucky unceremoniously thrust the full bucket he’d been holding into Dugan’s arms, ignoring the older man’s cry of protest and Jones’ snickers. “Get this cleaned out and when you’re done, have Morita give you a hand with the laundry and be sure to start with (Y/N)’s clothes first. I’m gonna take a look at our K-rations and see if I can’t whip up somethin’ that’ll be easy on her stomach.”

When both Dugan and Jones looked over at Steve for his authorization, he gave them an approving nod and watched them both hurry away to carry out their orders. “What can I do, Buck?”

“Go and help Carter cool her down; I’ve got her placing wet cloths onto her wrists, ankles and forehead, the same as what your Ma and I did when you caught scarlet fever back in ’31, and see if you can’t get her to drink a little water while you’re at it.” Despite his visible concern for their codebreaker’s deteriorating health, a ghost of his trademark grin flashed across his face. “All I got for my efforts were some pretty un-ladylike threats about where she’d shove the water canteen I offered her, so maybe you’ll have some better luck.”

Steve, knowing full well that his best friend was harboring a small crush on the team’s quick-witted codebreaker but wanting to keep his secret, simply nodded and patted Bucky’s shoulder as he strode past him; when he reached the flap of the medical tent, he politely cleared his throat and waited for Peggy’s welcome before entering. (Y/N) was lying on the cot, dressed in a sweat-soaked white shirt and khaki trousers with wet cloths strategically placed along her overheated body, and Peggy was seated next to her with a troubled look on her face as she gently dabbed a damp rag along her best friend’s face. Judging by the pallor of her skin, the dark circles under her fluttering eyes and the erratic heartbeat that only a super-soldier could hear, it was easy for Steve to see why Peggy and Bucky were so worried for her.

“Oh no, not you too,” (Y/N) croaked out when she finally noticed Steve’s presence, weakly smiling as he took a seat on the other side of her cot. “I already told Peg and Bucky that I’m as fit as a fiddle.”

“And I already told you that you’re as stubborn as a mule.” Peggy’s words were playful, but the brief look she gave Steve conveyed the anxiety she was fighting to mask for the codebreaker’s benefit. “Perhaps Captain Rogers can convince you that your only job right now is to rest, not to waste energy arguing with me or threatening Sergeant Barnes with bodily harm.”

The codebreaker let out a frustrated groan. “But there’s still codes-”

“And you’ll be able to decode ‘em when you get better,” Steve interjected, his tone gentle but resolute. “You spent days nursing the rest of the team back to health, so now it’s your turn to let us take care of you.” He poured some canteen water into a tin cup and held it out for her to take. “So, could you do me a favor and do as Peggy says?”

After a long moment, (Y/N)’s jaw unclenched and she managed to muster up a faint chuckle before taking the cup from him. “I always said that ‘do as Peggy says’ should be the SSR’s official slogan…” She forced down the water and while Steve took the empty cup away, she gave Peggy a small apologetic smile. “I’m sorry that I’m being a pain in the ass, Peg. It’s just that I…I’m not used to being fussed over. I can’t…help but feel like a burden…”

The codebreaker’s eyelids drooped and her labored breathing subtly evened out as she lost consciousness, but her heartbreaking words hung heavy in the dead-silent medical tent. Although they’d only known one another for two months, Steve was well-aware of (Y/N)’s turbulent relationship with her family and the hardships she’d faced throughout her childhood; it saddened him to know that such a kind and compassionate woman was deprived of the sort of loving home that he and Bucky were lucky to have grown up in, and it made it all the more unfair that she was suffering after tirelessly caring for her teammates in their time of need.

A quiet sniffle caused Steve to look up from (Y/N)’s clammy face, and he felt a pang in his chest when he caught sight of Peggy wiping a tear off her cheek; when the agent’s reddened eyes met his, she gave him a saddened smile and quietly spoke. “From the moment we first met, (Y/N)’s been like a sister to me and since my brother Michael’s death, I can’t…I’d rather not imagine living in a world without her.”

Steve returned her smile with one of his own before reaching over the cot and tentatively resting his hand atop hers. “(Y/N)’s a fighter, Peggy. She’s gonna pull through this, and it’ll be because she’s got all of us here to help her out.” Peggy’s expression softened and Steve felt his face warm when she set the damp rag down and gave his hand a grateful squeeze. In an instant, it dawned on him that they hadn’t been alone with one another since their disastrous confrontation back at the SSR’s headquarters after his and Private Lorraine’s kiss; he awkwardly cleared his throat and slipped his hand out from under Peggy’s, picking up the rag and dabbing it into the bowl of water perched on a nearby crate as he attempted to keep his emotions in check. “I’m, um…I guess I’m not really used to being on this side of an illness,” He remarked, wringing the rag out and carefully placing it across (Y/N)’s heated forehead. “It’s a strange perspective, being the caregiver instead of the patient; I’m usually the one lying in bed with a hundred and two degree fever.”

“Doctor Erskine mentioned that your medical history was rather extensive…” Peggy stood and leaned over to adjust the codebreaker’s makeshift pillow, and her sympathetic eyes met his when he moved to help her. “I can’t begin to imagine how challenging your life was before Project Rebirth.”

Returning to his seat, Steve removed the cloth encircling (Y/N)’s wrist and wetted it with fresh water, his gaze fixed onto his task as the memories of his childhood in Brooklyn and the hazy memories of each of his life-threatening illnesses invaded his mind. “My ma – she was a nurse, you see – she always told me that God blessed her with a baby he knew she’d have no trouble raising on her own. He sure as hell didn’t hold back his punches, either; before high school, I was diagnosed with asthma, scoliosis, arrhythmia, high blood pressure, astigmatism, pernicious anemia, stomach ulcers, sinusitis, fallen arches, and I had a couple of bouts of colds, rheumatic fever and scarlet fever. But none of that ever stopped her…” His eyes stung with the urge to cry but he forced himself to remain composed as he continued. “She told me that nothing in heaven or hell could stop her from taking care of me.”

“Your mother sounds like a strong-willed woman. Is she…?” Sensing her hesitancy, Steve shook his head and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her purse her lips and fiddle with the end of her braided hair before continuing. “She'd be very proud of the man you’ve become.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and chuckled to disguise the unexpected emotion the agent’s thoughtful words brought on. “I’m still just that skinny kid from Brooklyn, now just with a serum that gives you muscles and an iron-clad immune system.”

“You’re more than the serum.” Peggy’s gentle and affirming tone caused Steve to look up and meet her sparkling brown eyes. “The serum would be nothing without the good, kind-hearted man it empowers,” She reached across the cot to rest her hand atop his, causing Steve’s heart to race and a blush to color his cheeks. “You’re my hero, Steve.”

There was a sudden and palpable shift in the air as Steve studied the agent’s eyes and took in her words. Although he’d undergone an incredible physical transformation that saw him go from sickly to the epitome of strength, the way Peggy looked at him never changed; it was clear as day that she meant exactly what she’d said – after all, Peggy Carter was hardly one for mincing words and had no issue speaking her mind in any given situation – and that realization only made Steve’s admiration and unspoken attraction to her grow. With a soft smile, Steve twisted his hand around to intertwine their fingers and shyly replied, “You’re my hero, too.”

Peggy’s smile grew but before either of them could say or do anything further, Bucky and Dugan burst into the medical tent; they both quickly withdrew their hands from one another before either man took note of their intimate moment, and Steve hastily averted his gaze from the equally-flustered agent seated across from him. “How’s the patient doing?” Bucky asked, oblivious to the conversation he’d walked in on as he set a bowl of broth down onto the nearest crate and moved to replace the cloth on (Y/N)’s forehead with the back of his hand; after a moment, the look of concern written across his face softened and he breathed out a relieved sigh. “Her fever finally broke; she should be okay after we get her to eat and drink a little.”

“Oh, thank heavens,” Peggy beamed and a reassured Dugan ruffled her hair before ducking out of the medical tent to inform their teammates of the good news. “Ste-Captain Rogers was able to convince her to drink a little water after you left.”

“And Peg-Agent Carter managed to cool her down with the wet cloths,” Steve added, awkwardly clearing his throat when his best friend glanced over his shoulder and arched a curious brow at him. “So, um, you made soup?”

Bucky chuckled. “Well, my ma sure as hell wouldn’t call it that, but a bouillon cube mixed into boiling water’ll just have to do.” With the gentleness of a well-seasoned caregiver, he nudged (Y/N)’s shoulder and smiled when her eyes finally fluttered open. “Hey there, doll. I know you’re tired, but I’ve got some food here for you; it ain’t easy makin’ these K-rations taste edible, but I worked a little magic just for you.”

Groaning, (Y/N) allowed Bucky to help her sit up and Steve, not wanting to be in their way, stood and gave Peggy a small smile as he made his way to the tent’s flap. “I, um…I should go and check in with the others. Would you tell (Y/N) that I hope she feels better soon and that she’s to continue following your orders until she does?”

“Of course. And Steve?” He turned around in time to catch the tender look etched across Peggy’s beautiful features, illuminated by a smile that caused his stomach to lurch in a not-so-unpleasant way. “Thank you, for opening up to me.”

Steve nodded once and returned her smile with one of his own. “And thank you, Peg.”

Arching a quizzical brow, the agent quietly asked, “What for?”

“For listening.”

And as Steve turned and walked out of the medical tent, all he could think of was the way Peggy had looked at him and how happy he was that they’d seemingly moved on from their turbulent encounter back at headquarters. When the war’s over, I’m gonna buy (Y/N) (Y/L/N) every single Andrews Sisters record and box of herbal teabags I can get my hands on, Steve silently vowed as his smile grew into a full-blown grin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new one-shot. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iKzLZlEK1rTaSIiW5zRlk?si=97af3c9ce3ff4b65

“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up​ @fluffymadamina​ @remmyswritings​ @ourstarsailor @coffeeandcrimeshows​ @darkusangelus​ @josis-teacup​ @marvel-jackt-loki-buck​ @yeetyeetchickenmeat​ @sameoldbaby​ @theserenityspace​ @seeing-but-not-observing​ @supervoldejaygent​ @momc95​ @brooke0297​ @kinda-c0nfused​ @outoftheregular​ @mads-weasley​ @mostclevermiss​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @groovy-lady​ @xxruinaxxmcu​​  

[swan-of-sunrise]

Hi there! It's been a while since I've given ya'll a WIP update, so let's go ahead and do one now!

1. Spellbinding (Loki X Reader): I decided to push back the one-shot I originally planned to write first in favor of some Christmas fluff (hint: it includes a puppy that may or may not put Loki and the Cosmic Sorceress under its adorable spell lol). It's about 70% written, and I hope to have it out sometime next month!

2. Tony Stark X Reader: I've been working on my very first Tony Stark X Reader one-shot! It's exciting and a little nerve-wracking because I've never written Tony this way before, and I hope to have this one out sometime next month as well!

3. Stumblin' In (Steve Rogers X Reader): Since I've successfully written Booksmart and Steve into TFATWS, I decided to work on fitting them into Hawkeye next. Unfortunately, I'm nowhere near ready to publish this mini-fic lol but not to worry, I'm working very hard on it!

4. Tales From The SSR/Specs and the Flyboy (Jack Thompson X Reader): Again, I haven't really begun focusing on this one as much as I want to, but the next one-shot in this series will focus on Steve and the Howling Commandos at the height of WW2!

And that's pretty much it! Which stories or one-shots are you guys looking forward to the most? Let me know and don't forget to give my Fanfiction Masterlist a like if you're interested in reading any of these, I always update it after posting a new work! (And good luck on your exam @mostclevermiss!) 💖

[swan-of-sunrise]

Hey! I'm loving your work :) I recently got into Specs and the Flyboy; it's such a good story! I'd love to learn more about the reader's time with the OSS and how she managed to join. Did she receive an offer like Peggy did from SOE? I think this is all so interesting.

You're so sweet, thank you! I'm so happy that you're enjoying Specs and the Flyboy; I try not to choose favorites, but it's probably the series that I've enjoyed writing the most. As for Specs and the OSS, I totally plan on writing a one-shot about how she was recruited from Bletchley Park! I haven't settled on how I wanna present that particular event just yet, but I was thinking of being a little experimental and doing it through letters (not sure when I'll get to writing it, but it's for sure being planned!). Thank you so much for reading and enjoying, and I appreciate your kind words 💖

[swan-of-sunrise]

My Current WIP's!

Hi guys! Lately, I've had an insane amount of energy and motivation to write, so I'm coming at you with a little WIP update today! 💖

Tales From The SSR/Specs and the Flyboy (Jack Thompson X F!Reader): I'm working on a nice little one-shot from Jarvis' POV, set between Chapter 10 and 11 of Specs and the Flyboy, that'll expand a little on his relationship with Specs and their friendship with Howard Stark. It's nothing too deep, but I'm really enjoying writing from my favorite butler's POV!

Taking Care of Business (Din Djarin X F!Reader): I know, I know, I promised to give ya'll more Din and Alor'ad a long time ago, but better late than never, right? I'm working on a fluffy one-shot about their life on Nevarro with Grogu and whether or not they're gonna expand their little clan of three, so definitely keep a look out for that!

What The World Needs Now... (Charles Xavier X F!Reader): This one might come as a surprise, but I'm working on a Part 2! It's about the growing attraction between Charles and his school's newest professor, and I'm having so much fun revisiting the 20th Century Fox X-Men Universe lol it might not be canon in the MCU, but it holds a special place in my heart!

Untitled Cobb Vanth X F!Reader: I'm so ashamed that it's taken me so long to make do on my promise to write a Cobb Vanth fic, but I finally feel confident in my outline and I can't wait for ya'll to read this, it's so damn cute!

So yeah, that’s pretty much it. Which stories or one-shots are you guys looking forward to? Let me know and don’t forget to give my fanfiction masterlist a like if you’re interested in reading any of this, I always update it after posting a new work!

[swan-of-sunrise]

Hello! I have a (possibly) odd request. I fell in love with your Specs and the Flyboy series and have compiled it into a single document and edited it just a bit. I promise it's still your brilliant work! I am considering having it bound for my own private use and was wondering if you would like a copy? I'm happy to send it to a PO Box for you. I would love for you to have a nice copy of your brilliant work to cherish. Give you a little something in return for what you gave us.

I'm not even exaggerating when I say that this ask made me tear up. When I first started writing Specs and the Flyboy, I wrote it for myself because I never thought in a million years that anyone would wanna read a series about the asshole supporting character from Agent Carter, but then the pandemic happened and I realized that while I couldn't do much of anything to directly help, maybe my writing could entertain a couple of people and help them take their minds off of everything going on in the world.

It's a very cliche thing for fanfic writers to say but I truly never imagined that so many people would read Specs and the Flyboy, much less count it as one of their favorite fanfics! It makes me so happy to know how much this series means to you (to the extent that you wanna have it bound and kept as a physical copy, holy shit!) and if you do end up having it bound, then I'd be honored to accept a copy of the story that I hold very near and dear to my heart 💖

(I'll DM you to work out the details, and then I think I'll go faint lol as always, thank you so much for reading and enjoying!)

[swan-of-sunrise]

1,000 FOLLOWERS!!!

I've been super busy for the past several weeks (having your house fumigated for termites sucks lol) but holy shit, guys, we've crossed into 1,000 followers! When I first created this blog, I never expected to have even 100 followers so seriously, thank you guys so freaking much for following, either for my fics or my reblogs or my opinions lol it really means a lot to me, so thank you for 1,000! 🥰