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in the kitchen

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“Jarvis! I’m glad I caught you. I’m in a bit of a tight spot.”

“Miss Carter?” the man’s voice comes through the phone, tone urgent. “What is it? Are you in danger?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I, well...I burned the roast.”

“You what?”

Peggy huffs frustratedly, trying to blow her hair out of her face. “I’m making dinner for a friend and it’s not going completely according to plan,” Peggy holds the phone while looking around the devastation of her kitchen and adds, “at all going to plan, if we’re being honest.”

“And you called me…?” Jarvis starts.

“Really, Edwin, you’re going to make me say it?” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Because of this…homemaker thing, whatever it is you do. You’re good at it. My kitchen is a disaster zone and Angie is due here at seven. I need your help.”

There’s quiet on the other end, and for a moment Peggy wonders if the call has been disconnected. “You’re cooking for Ms. Martinelli?” she can hear his knowing grin even through the phone. She clears her throat.

“Yes, what of it?” she replies shortly, resting a hand on her hip.

“Nothing, nothing,” Jarvis says, and Peggy narrows her eyes. “I’ll be there in 20 minutes. I trust you’ll survive until my arrival?”

She scoffs in response, twirling the phone cord anxiously. “Just get here, Jarvis.”

“As you wish, Agent Carter,” and with that he hangs up.

“Bastard,” Peggy says into the static, hanging up the phone with a loud ding and turning back to take in her war zone of a kitchen. “Dear lord,” she breathes.


“No, no! Heavens, Miss Carter, it’s as if you’ve never set foot in a kitchen before,” Jarvis says, ripping the bowl from her grasp.

“Well forgive me if I wasn’t aware that there is a wrong way to mash potatoes, Mr. Jarvis,” Peggy replies bitingly.

“That’s it!” he hands her a head of lettuce and a tomato. “I’m going to assume you’re capable of making a salad. Although that may be expecting too much.”

He turns around again and she sticks her tongue out, throwing a piece of carrot at the back of his head and stuffing a piece of bread into her mouth, chewing angrily.

They go to work again, quietly, but Peggy can tell there’s something being unsaid. “Penny for your thoughts?” she asks, washing lettuce leaves.

Jarvis shrugs, adding salt to the potatoes. “I was just thinking about your dinner guest, is all.”

“Oh?” she says, feigning disinterest.

“Miss Martinelli is a very nice young woman,” he says matter-of-factly.

Peggy nods, smiling softly. “Very.”

“Talented,” he tries.

“Indeed.”

He pauses for a moment, shooting her a look out of the corner of his eye. “Pretty.”

“Most definitely,” she replies without missing a beat.

Her eyes widen in panic for a moment before being replaced with an unaffected mask, but Jarvis doesn’t comment. Instead he says, “I’m pleased for you, Miss Carter. That you’ve found… a friend,” he looks to the brunette, offering her an understanding smile. “She seems to be quite fond of you.”

Peggy worries a lip between her teeth and looks down at the cutting board shyly. “Do you really think so?” she says quietly, hesitantly.

“I'm sure of it,” and he nudges her shoulder with his own before stirring the contents of the pot on the stove.

She looks up at him with a bright smile that he returns fully, before motioning to the knife she’s holding to cut tomatoes and saying, “Don’t cut yourself. The last thing we need is for you to ruin another dinner with a visit to the hospital for stitches.”

“Honestly!”


They’re just setting the table when a knock sounds at the door.

“English?” Angie’s voice rings from the hallway. “Ugh, Peg, you’ll never believe the day I had—“

“It’s Angie,” Peggy’s eyes widen comically as she whispers to the butler. “Get out, get out!” she rushes to his coat and hat hanging on the rack by the door, throwing them at his chest from the other side of the room. “One moment!” she calls to Angie.

“And where do you suppose I ‘get out?’” Jarvis whispers back hotly before following the brunette’s eyes to the window behind him. “You’re not serious.”

Peggy tilts her head, wincing in apology as she drags him by the arm to the window and opens it quickly and quietly. “Thanks for the hand, Jarvis.”

“I cannot believe this!” he fights, being physically pushed out of the window and onto the fire escape. “You owe me.”

“Get out!” she whispers harshly, nearly pulling the window down on his fingers before turning around. She fixes her hair and lipstick in the mirror quickly before calling, “Come in, darling!”

“Hey!" Angie says from the entryway. "God, I missed you today.” she slips her heels off and moving to draw the agent into a tight embrace. “What smells so good?”

“Just a home cooked meal, thought you might be sick of all the diner grub,” Peggy replies, nuzzling the shorter woman’s neck and running her hands down her back.

Angie just sighs, content. “You’re too good for me, English.”

As they move to sit at the table, Jarvis makes his way down the fire escape, slipping his coat and hat on as he walks down the sidewalk, whistling into the cool night air.

He smiles all the way home.