Defying Convention [For Peggy]

[theycalledmeacurse]

Being back in the 1940’s was… difficult, to say the least. Rogue tried her best to fit in and not draw too much attention to herself, but sometimes she opened her mouth and the exact wrong thing came out and got her into trouble – that wrong thing usually being one insult or another to a chauvinistic pig who thought he was the universe’s gift to womankind. She just couldn’t stand that, and it clearly didn’t matter who the guy was, she’d just lay into him, consequences be damned.

Which was why she was on her third job in as many months since getting her new identity set up. She just kept ending up working for assholes who treated their female employees like second-class citizens. It was appalling, and every time it happened she found herself missing the future fiercely. Sure, things may not have been perfect then, but it had certainly been better than this.

And most of the women just accepted it, not realizing that they could stand up for themselves, or just being too scared to try. There were a few exceptions to the rule, though, little sparks of hope that Rogue found herself drawn to. One of those exceptions was sitting at a table along the back wall of the restaurant, or whatever they called this type of place in this era, right where she’d said she’d be. Peggy Carter had been an intriguing mystery since she’d first laid eyes on her, when the other woman had stepped in to help deal with a mugger who had picked the wrong southern belle to rob. Rogue hadn't exactly needed the help, but the gesture had been very much appreciated and so she'd insisted upon repaying the good deed with dinner, or at the very least a cup of coffee. It had taken a lot of persuading, but now here they were.

Smoothing out the skirt of her green dress with hands that were blissfully bare thanks to her newfound (if tentative) control in this era, she stepped through the door and headed toward her dining companion.

Comments

[filing]

Peggy tried her very best not to assume things of people (well, except for assuming that men were going to underestimate her) but she also never took it for granted that someone else might be able to dispatch an opponent as quickly as she might, so she'd been pleasantly surprised to find the woman she helped hadn't entirely needed said help. That was part of the reason she'd been so reticent to accept the invitation; she didn't feel comfortable accepting thanks for something she didn't do much of. Or at all, really, but there you were.

Ultimately, though, it had been meant in kindness and so Peggy accepted it so. She was trying to get a bit better at connecting to people, difficult as it could be, so it had been in that way fortuitous.

"Hello," she called out, bright as she could. "No trouble along the way?"

[theycalledmeacurse]

"Nothing that I couldn't handle," she returned with a smile in her smooth southern drawl, taking the seat across from the other woman. There had been a catcall or two, but she'd had enough practice over the years that ignoring them was second nature. The one who tried for a little something more, however, quickly discovered that Rogue had a mean right hook.

"I didn't get to properly introduce myself before," she said suddenly, the thought occurring to her as she took in the beautiful woman across the table. Holding out her hand for a formal introduction, she offered, "Marie LeBeau."

[filing]

Peggy smiled, though there was a tinge of sadness to it. She understood the implications, and just because handling was probable didn't make it okay. But she wasn't going to dwell on that if she wasn't invited to, that wasn't good conversation in the slightest.

"Marie," Peggy returned, nodding as she took her hand. "That's a lovely name. Rather more timeless than Peggy, I think. Not as if I'm one to go self-deprecating about something like that, of course." She chuckled. It wasn't meant that way, simply as an observation.

[theycalledmeacurse]

"I'd never think that," she commented with an easy smile. "But I like the name Peggy. Marie might be timeless, but it's also pretty common, especially in the South with so much French influence on the culture - there were at least three other Maries at any time in my school growing up. Peggy seems more unique that way, and much more fitting for a modern woman."

For a modern woman of the 1940's, anyway. The name would have been out of place in Rogue's original time, seeming too old-fashioned, like something passed down through a family. But the name suited the woman in front of her, and she quite liked it on her.

[filing]

"I can only imagine," Peggy agreed. "I wasn't the only Margaret I ever met, but there are countless nicknames, we mostly managed to distinguish ourselves. Meg and Greta and --" here she shuddered, making it perfectly clear she'd been on the unwilling receiving end of this particular diminutive -- "Marge."

A little shrug. This was the sort of conversation that often eluded her with her male coworkers, and given that they were her usual companions, it was nice to find the opportunity. Something lighthearted but not empty, entirely.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Rogue laughed quietly at Peggy's reaction to that last name - she agreed, it was pretty darn awful. "I'll be sure never to call you those others," she assured her new acquaintance. "You're definitely a Peggy, nothing else would suit you as well."

It was nice to be able to talk to someone. She didn't have many friends to speak of, or to.

[filing]

On top of how awful it was, of course, there was the fact that most of the times she'd had it thrown at her, it had been done in the most condescending way. (Then again, ninety percent of the time whatever she was called, she was called it condescendingly. One of the many downsides of her coworkers.) "Thank you, I think," she chuckled. "It's what I'm used to."

She wasn't herself a particularly sociable person, keeping most at arm's length out of worry for their well-being, so this was a welcome difference. Perhaps she felt a bit more at ease with Marie knowing she could handle herself, or perhaps it was just lucky timing.

[theycalledmeacurse]

[Sorry to take so long! This week was nuts.]

Rogue just flashed Peggy another smile before glancing around the room, taking in the décor and the general atmosphere. There weren't too many other customers, none in their vicinity at least, but it was easy to see that this was a popular place with a regular crowd. "So Peggy, I've never been here before," she told the other woman. "What's good here?"

Keeping people at arm's length was something she knew very well, having done it for most of her adult life. It had only been with a select few friends and loved ones that she'd felt comfortable letting them get close, both physically and emotionally, but she wanted to change that. If she was going to survive in this world and have any sort of life, she needed people around her.

[filing]

[Oh, not to fret! I know the feeling.]

Peggy shrugged casually. "I'll admit half the time I'm just in for tea or coffee that I didn't have to make myself," she said. "Most of it that I've had is passable, at the very least."

Having people was a blessing, one that Peggy had herself only recently made up her mind to seek out. Close people were an easy way to get hurt, but she was learning to manage the risk.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Passable. That sounded about right for what she was seeing. "I can understand that," Rogue said with a light laugh. "I usually cook and make everything myself, but sometimes it's nice to just let someone else do it and enjoy being around other human beings."

It was strange some days how Rogue craved both solitude and companionship, a holdover from her old caution with her powers combining with a new fear of just what people were capable of. But something made her trust Peggy, and so it was easy to sit there at the table with her, just having a normal conversation.

[filing]

"Strictly speaking I'm capable of cooking, but after a long day I find I don't often want to," Peggy explained, sighing cheerfully. She was neither a domestic sort of person nor an avidly undomestic sort, not hardly the extreme that most people around her expected.

That was so often the story of things, though, finding that extremes weren't always accurate, and lately Peggy had been learning that that was even true in her personal life. Gut instinct wasn't always correct, but it wasn't the worst thin to trust sometimes.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Rogue made it a point not to assume things about people until she got to know them fairly well, having had her expectations proven so drastically inaccurate in the past. She'd spent too much time comparing the outward impression people gave off to what was really in their heads to let assumptions dictate her opinions and expectations of others. That did, of course, extend to Peggy as well now.

"I definitely know how that is," she commented. "I used to teach at a boarding school and those were some of the longest days, by the end I just wanted to let someone else take care of me for a change. Luckily, my husband didn't mind taking over the cooking every now and then, he tended to use it as an excuse to show off."

[filing]

Immediately Peggy's eyebrow went up. "A boarding school, really!" she exclaimed. "That must be equal parts fascinating and horrifying. I'd never have the patience for it, so I admire those that do."

For the moment she didn't touch on the mention of a husband, as -- well, that could be a sore spot. She had no way of knowing.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Fascinating and horrifying. The description was so accurate that Rogue couldn't help but chuckle quietly. "It was a learning experience for everyone, that's for sure," she said, her tone ripe with fondness. "It was a school for the gifted, so the students were absolutely incredible to work with, but they also caused the worst trouble in the most creative ways. We were constantly repairing the school after some sort of explosion or equally destructive disaster. And then they'd try to sneak out in the middle of the night on top of it!"

It felt good to talk about the school, her days as a teacher were some of the best of her life. She missed her life there desperately, but like everything else from before, it was simply beyond her reach now.

[filing]

Peggy's eyes widened and she nodded respectfully. "Good on you for making it out alive," she laughed. "I'm sure it was an adventure. I was at boarding school my entire childhood, I can remember the sort of chaos we incited. What did you teach?"

This sort of conversation was simple. Still the sort of thing Peggy was learning to adjust to again but welcome.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Rogue grinned at the joke and at Peggy's laugh; she had a good, solid laugh, and Rogue loved the sound of it.

"French mostly, the language and literature," she answered easily. "Some English lit and history as well, depending on what we needed filled. And I handled the one-on-one self-defense classes."

It didn't occur to her until she'd said it that it would probably sound odd in this day and age. Even in her time, having large-scale defensive classes at a school was seen as peculiar, but in the 1940s...

[filing]

It was convenient, then, that Marie liked it, because Peggy was not exactly one for laughing constantly. She didn't often have good cause to, at least any farther than a wry chuckle.

Conveniently, though, she was the sort of woman who approved of the notion of self-defense classes and just assumed it was some sort of military school for the gifted, or some such. "Oh, c'est bon," she exclaimed. "I'm nowhere near fluent, but I picked up a bit during the war. How marvelous that must have been, getting to share a passion for subjects with children."