[ it's been four weeks since a zero matter rift spat peggy carter out in the middle of what's now a a parking lot just north of los angeles. three weeks and six days since shield (or what's left of it) picked her up with respectful but firm pleas. three and a half weeks since she was delivered (dumped, really) into tony stark's care.
and she's not much happy about any of it. computer systems log her comings and her goings, she's awfully sure of it, and she doesn't know how to work the machines that are meant to make tea but only ever seem to make overly sweet drinks that are more coffee-adjacent than coffee itself. two weeks and five days ago, she decided that drinking what's coffee-adjacent is a better fate than asking someone -- anyone -- for help with something so minor. besides, peggy has always prided herself on being somewhat adaptable in the face of adversity. and somehow somehow bad coffee is a touch more palatable to her than good coffee could ever be.
but it's been four weeks and the reality is that she just doesn't know or remember enough details about zero matter and how it functions to be any use in helping howard's son figure out how to put her back where she belongs. ideally before any roots are put down, not that she's aware of that particular potential pitfall. peggy is just as determined to solve the problem. obligingly, almost indulgently, she describes everything she knows: she names isodyne, she names roxxon, she describes howard's gamma cannon but can't even begin to describe the science behind it.
but the gamma cannon seems to be what does it. tony sits up straight, taps some invisible conclusion in the air with the butt of a multitool, and announces that he knows just the brain they need. which brings us to today -- and peggy picking through a borrowed office and papers brimming over with her own recollections, in her own handwriting, that must have been gathered and saved and passed on to bruce banner. the chap so smart that even howard's son seems to venerate him.
as they're originally her own notes, peggy doesn't feel much guilt when the man himself walks in to find her browsing through the pages. and the borrowed office space is only exactly that: borrowed. she takes a step forward, emptying her hands and offering one to shake. ]
Doctor Banner. [ she's all politeness and affability at the outset. a bright polish that doesn't hide the steel below, exactly, but certainly makes it appear well-sheathed for the time being. ] I do hope the scribbles weren't too tough to decipher.
who cares about numbers.
and she's not much happy about any of it. computer systems log her comings and her goings, she's awfully sure of it, and she doesn't know how to work the machines that are meant to make tea but only ever seem to make overly sweet drinks that are more coffee-adjacent than coffee itself. two weeks and five days ago, she decided that drinking what's coffee-adjacent is a better fate than asking someone -- anyone -- for help with something so minor. besides, peggy has always prided herself on being somewhat adaptable in the face of adversity. and somehow somehow bad coffee is a touch more palatable to her than good coffee could ever be.
but it's been four weeks and the reality is that she just doesn't know or remember enough details about zero matter and how it functions to be any use in helping howard's son figure out how to put her back where she belongs. ideally before any roots are put down, not that she's aware of that particular potential pitfall. peggy is just as determined to solve the problem. obligingly, almost indulgently, she describes everything she knows: she names isodyne, she names roxxon, she describes howard's gamma cannon but can't even begin to describe the science behind it.
but the gamma cannon seems to be what does it. tony sits up straight, taps some invisible conclusion in the air with the butt of a multitool, and announces that he knows just the brain they need. which brings us to today -- and peggy picking through a borrowed office and papers brimming over with her own recollections, in her own handwriting, that must have been gathered and saved and passed on to bruce banner. the chap so smart that even howard's son seems to venerate him.
as they're originally her own notes, peggy doesn't feel much guilt when the man himself walks in to find her browsing through the pages. and the borrowed office space is only exactly that: borrowed. she takes a step forward, emptying her hands and offering one to shake. ]
Doctor Banner. [ she's all politeness and affability at the outset. a bright polish that doesn't hide the steel below, exactly, but certainly makes it appear well-sheathed for the time being. ] I do hope the scribbles weren't too tough to decipher.