Peggy's eyes shifted around the bar from drunken coworker to drunken coworker, wondering for about the hundredth time why she came. She shook her head and looked down at her drink, she knew why. During the war, drinking with the guys brought them closer. Evidently, that was not the case with the agents of the SSR. If anything, this little endeavor would prove to make things more uncomfortable with them.

Soft music, glasses clinking, laughing and mutterings filled the silence she had settled in around herself. The lighting was poor and masked by air thick with cigarette smoke, so much so she wondered if she could slip out without being noticed. Thomson was the only one sitting next to her and his back was turned completely away from her, fully engrossed in telling a story of a conquest of some sort or another.

He said something that received a roar of laughter. His story had ended and the boys dispersed, either to tend their own drinks, to delve into their side stories, or to head out for the night. A sloppy grin caught the corner of her eye and she steeled herself in search of a rebuttal for whatever remark was about to be made.

Thompson set himself right in his chair and lifted his glass to his lips. "So," his words came blunt, brief and hazy, "you fuck him?"

Peggy blinked and stared at him. "Who?" She demanded, the edges in her voice razor sharp.

The agent dipped his head a little. Steve.

Her cheeks flushed and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. Her eyes darted to at least three other places as she glanced away. "That's not something you ask a lady."

Jack huffed, "A lady? Like you don't go around trying to prove you're not?" Peggy glared at him. "You were his girl, right?"

"I'm nobody's girl, Thompson, and things were a bit more complicated than that." She didn't want to talk about Steve, at least not like this and most especially not with him.

"So that's a 'no'."

"So that's a 'none of your business'."

Jack smiled. "So that's a 'yes'."

Peggy let out a low breath and rolled her eyes. How was it that she worked with a group of nothing but grown-up twelve year old boys?

He held out his hands, "hey, I just told everyone about me and Meryl, you're due a story or two Carter."

She rested her chin on her fist. "Are you asking this in the hopes that it makes me uncomfortable or is it that you really are very interested in sex from a woman's point of view? If it's the latter, trust me, you aren't going to like it very much. Men can be very disappointing." The words rolled off her tongue like little daggers. He pushed too far and she fired back without much more than a breath. "Or does your curiosity come from a particular interest in Captain Rodgers himself? I can't quite blame you for the infatuation, Thompson. Don't worry; you certainly aren't the first man to develop a crush on him."

The agent sputtered soundlessly, wordless.

Peggy smiled and gathered up her coat and purse. "We'll have to carry on further some other time," She said and patted him on the shoulder as she got up to leave, "Curfew."

She exited the bar, knowing full well they wouldn't likely have her drinking with them again. That was the first thing that felt right with her the entire night.