1point5kidsandaruger | (no subject)

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Peggy shuts the door behind her with a sigh, leaning against it with mild fatigue but she’s smiling gently. “Josephine finally fell asleep. It took the German, French and English rendition of ‘Three Blind Mice, but she’s sleeping soundly.”

She pushes away from the door and walks over to the bed where Steve is perched at the edge, a book idly in hand. She pauses to read the title, and then lifts it from his hands, setting it on the nightstand before coming back over. “You’ve read it already,” she says lightly, sliding off her robe and laying it neatly over the back of a chair, leaving her in a simple nightgown.

She sits beside him and takes his hand in hers, dropping her head against his shoulder. “I hope Sarah and Rose weren’t much trouble.” There may or may not be an implication on how deeply they were sleeping.

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Oh. Well, then.

He lifts one hand to tweak a curl laying loose against her cheek. "They went down pretty quickly, after a chapter of Sun Tzu. I told Sarah it was probably still a little too heavy for her, but she insisted."

His hand strays to the shoulder of her nightgown, fingering the hem, a silent question as to whether or not he's invited to slide it off.

"I do imagine there are some parts she might understand, but only with extra explanation."

She makes no movement to stop him, gives no sign his plan is unwelcome.

"They had a long day," she adds in a mutter, reaching to lightly brush some stray hairs from his forehead, before trailing down to rest her hand at the side of his neck, thumb idly at his jaw.

He kisses the side of her neck, tugs at the edge of her sleeve, working it down toward her elbow. "Had to have a talk with Rosalie's new teacher today. I think we might be better off seeing if we can move her up a grade, or get her a private tutor. She doesn't pay attention in class, apparently, but after meeting her teacher, I can't say I'm surprised."

Steve leans over to kiss the bit of Peggy's collarbone exposed by the withdrawal of her nightgown, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Something to think about."

Instinctively, Peggy tilts her head to expose more of her neck. Leans forward to kiss his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

"I haven't spoken with her much, but yes, we should consider it," she says, resting both hands at his shoulders and shifting herself to his lap. Her legs slide around his waist, the skirt of her nightgown bunching up at hers.

"What was it about this time?"

"She was hiding another book inside the one they were supposed to be reading." There's a mock-solemnity in it, which hitches slightly as she settles herself against him. He rests his face against her chest, forehead on her collarbone, inhaling the smell of fresh laundry and her skin. The cloth tickles his lips as he speaks.

"One of those Chronicles of Narnia books."

There's a pause, as she imagines Rosalie doing just that. And then she laughs, amused and with specks of pride. With her arms resting over his shoulders, her hands wrinkle into his shirt and start pulling at it, slowly, but it doesn't lift very far before she stops. Gently runs her fingers along his back.

She plants a kiss on the top of his head, lingering for a moment before speaking into his hair. "Such an offensive crime. The utter audacity."

Edited (fee;ongs: or, tomato keeps changing her mind u_u) 2012-07-18 06:30 (UTC)

"You'd think she was raised by convicts."

A pause. "Or soldiers."

He kisses her shirt, sliding her topmost buttons open so he can kiss the skin underneath. "I promised her teacher it wouldn't happen again."

"The worst, really. Both of them," she says, shaking her head.

She kisses the side of his neck, hands moving under his arms, slipping under the edge of his shirt to rest at his waist. Her thumbs draw idle circles for a moment, then she grips his sides to pull herself a little closer.

"I'm not very sure that's a promise you can keep."

"Well, she finished re-reading that one this afternoon," he says, reasonably. "So it won't. Not with that book."

He pops another button and kisses the side of her neck. They move as slowly in this as they've always done, closeness enough to sustain desire.

Of course, the patter of feet in the hallway gets him to sit up properly. "I'm not hearing things, am I?"

Peggy knows that sound all too well. "You're not," she says, sliding her legs away, pulling her nightgown down, and climbing to sit neatly on the bed in one swift transitional movement.

With no time to spare, as there's a knock at the door and the hushed sound of a toddler babbling.

"Mama? Papa?"

Edited 2012-08-21 05:03 (UTC)

Steve glances Peggy's way, exasperated and amused in equal measure. He hauls himself to his feet and opens the door, revealing all three of the girls arrayed on the other side, Josephine in Sarah's arms.

"What's wrong?" He stoops to take the youngest, tapping her on the nose as he resettles her against his side. She promptly reaches down to try and dig through his pockets, talking to herself. "Did something happen?"

Sarah and Rosalie glance at each other, the latter unusually subdued. Sarah is the one who speaks. "Rosalie had a dream."

Steve steps aside and ushers the other two girls into the room. "A dream? What kind of dream, kiddo?"

Sarah climbs up next to Peggy on one side, Rosalie on the other. Rosalie buries her face against Peggy's side and Sarah answers again. "She won't tell me."

Peggy's arms instantly encircle both of them, though Rosalie gets an extra squeeze and a kiss on the head. The girl burrows even further, sliding her arms around her mother's waist as far as they'll reach.

"Whatever it was, darling, you're safe now, all right? I promise." Peggy's voice is gentle but concerned; she gives Sarah a quick and somewhat apologetic hug before using both arms to slowly start rocking Rosalie with steady but careful movements.

Sarah rolls over and crawls to the other side of them both, scooting herself next to her sister. She leans in protectively, as if daring any bad dreams to strike again, and wraps her arms around Rosalie from behind.

Steve sits down on Sarah's other side, Josephine in his lap. He tangles his fingers in Rosalie's hair gently, keeping Josephine in place with his other hand.

"I promise you, sweetheart, whatever it is, you won't scare us by telling."

Rosalie shifts to nest her cheek against Peggy's side. "I don't want to."

"Sometimes talking about it makes it less scary." He lifts Josephine over his head one-handed until she squeals, before settling her back into his lap.

Edited 2012-10-14 07:32 (UTC)

"Everyone has bad dreams, love," Peggy says gently, leaning down to kiss the top of her head once again, then hunching over to look her daughter in the eye. "Your father and I talk about ours quite often."

They're of a different caliber, but they do.

Sarah moves to whisper in her sister's ear, expecting no one can hear her, but it's still audible to both Steve and Peggy. "I promise you'll be okay, Rose. Mama and Papa will protect you, and I will, too."

Rosalie keeps her face and body pressed tightly against Peggy, but she takes a quiet, tentative look around at her parents and sister. Josephine starts to babble, but it's a little less exuberant than normal; she reaches over and lightly bops Rosalie on the head twice, then coos.

Edited 2012-10-15 23:11 (UTC)

"You disappeared," she finally says. Rosalie rests her cheek against Peggy again, reaching out blindly with one hand until Steve wraps and arm around Sarah to take Rose's fingers gently in his own. "You were gone. You were both in that plane, the one that Uncle Howard found daddy in, but he didn't find you, and it was me and Sarah and Jo, and you were gone."

Tightness presses in around Steve's lungs. He's had enough dreams like that himself, waking up with a cry kept silent so his daughters won't hear it, pressing close to Peggy until the chill he still sometimes recalls fades from his bones.

"We're right here," he says, and is glad public speaking has trained him into controlling his voice, when he tries. He gives her hand the tiniest, gentlest squeeze. "We're not going anywhere."

"But you could." It's not an accusation, even coming from a four year old. "You could go on a mission and not come back."

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