C86 Question Game

C86 Question Game

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"Have you ordered yet?" Peggy inquired, her eyes not leaving the menu, browsing it as if it were the most natural thing in the world to join strangers for breakfast, uninvited.

Peter eyed the elderly woman with both curiosity and recognition. Despite her benign, grandmotherly demeanor, she was far from ordinary. After all, she was no ordinary senior citizen; she was a master spy, a World War 2 veteran, a founder of Shield, and its very first director.

‘Wait, is she still the director of Shield?’ As Peter mused on Peggy Carter's current role, a sudden, chilling sensation pricked at his senses—a feeling of impending danger that seemed to whisper across his skin.

Glancing instinctively towards the restaurant's large floor-to-ceiling front windows, he caught sight of two black SUVs pulling up to the curb.

And a closer look revealed even more alarming details: hidden figures on nearby rooftops, unmistakably snipers, their positions strategically chosen to cover the area, no doubt aiming his way.

This unsettling discovery cemented his suspicions. ‘Yup, she’s definitely the Director...’ he thought.

Peggy had to be more than just a former director; her presence, underscored by such heavy security, suggested she still wielded significant authority within Shield.

But what could have drawn the director herself to Los Angeles? Was it actually for him, or perhaps something even more significant?

Across from Peter, Natasha's posture was stiff, her instincts as a highly trained Black Widow telling her that the woman before them was not to be underestimated.

Peter, maintaining a casual front, responded lightheartedly, "We were just about to call the waiter and order actually. But then this senile old woman interrupted us..." His tone was joking, but his words were sharp.

Raising a brow, Peggy was about to reply but before she could, the waiter arrived, greeting them, poised to take their order. "Good morning! How is everyone today?"

Ignoring Peter’s snide comment, Peggy took the lead, leaning in towards the waiter with a conspiratorial smile. "Oh, I’m just splendid. After all, today, my grandson," she gestured to Peter, "and his lovely girlfriend here," nodding towards Natasha, "decided to treat me to breakfast."

‘Girlfriend...’ Natasha repeated in her head, dazed.

The waiter, taken in by her performance, smiled warmly at the trio. "What a lovely family outing. What can I get for you this morning?"

"Eggs Benedict with a side of bacon and a piping hot coffee, please," Peggy ordered, then turned to Peter with a grandmotherly affection that didn’t quite reach her keen eyes. "And what will you have, sweetheart?"

Peter played along, albeit with a heavy sigh, as if resigning himself to a long morning. "I'll have the omelet with bacon and cheese, thanks."

Natasha, trained for situations like this, broke from her daze and added, "And I’ll take the banana’s foster Belgian waffles."

As the waiter made to leave, Peter called after him, adding a last-minute request. "Oh, and please make sure there's no dairy in my grandmother's meal. Her stomach isn’t what it used to be."

Peggy’s smile faltered slightly at this, her gaze sharpening on Peter, who was barely suppressing a smirk.

"Just between us," Peter whispered to the waiter loudly, pretending to be considerate of his precious grandmother, "we forgot her adult diapers at the nursing home, so no dairy, please." He said, undeterred by the glare he was receiving.

The waiter nodded seriously, jotting down the notes with a hint of awkwardness before pacing back to the kitchen.

As he left, Natasha couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation, her earlier tension momentarily forgotten.

Peggy’s expression shifted between embarrassed and annoyed. "For the record, I am not lactose intolerant, nor do I wear diapers," she stated firmly, though the corner of her mouth twitched in a reluctant smile.

"Oh, I’m so sorry, Grandma," Peter said, his tone dripping with feigned remorse. "I’ll make it up to you later with some ice cream before we drop you back off at the nursing home, okay?"

Realizing that she had underestimated Peter's capacity for mischief, Peggy exhaled a heavy sigh, abandoning her kindly old woman facade. "Very funny, but I think we can speak normally now," she conceded, her voice dropping to a more serious tone.

Peter leaned back, sipping his iced water, a smirk playing on his lips. "Alright then. What brings you to our table this morning?"

Natasha's gaze remained fixed on Peggy, her expression neutral but her eyes sharp, ready to dissect whatever the older woman was about to disclose.

Peggy paused, considering her words carefully. "There’s much to discuss. But to start, where’s your dog? I believe her name was Cosmo?”

Peter's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise when Peggy casually dropped Cosmo's name into the conversation. However, after a brief pause, realization dawned on him. "Let me guess, the agents who followed us yesterday found some of Cosmo's hair and got a hit off an old Russian database?"

Peggy looked impressed with his quick deduction. "Yes," she nodded.

“I see,” he said, nodding his head as well. “Makes sense. As for Cosmo though. She didn't come with me today. She slept in late, so I left her behind."

Peggy raised a brow, “You speak as if she’s a human...”

“Well, Cosmo can be quite human-like. You’ll understand if and when you ever meet her.” Peter explained cryptically.

“I’d love to,” Peggy smiled welcomingly, “Where does she live?” She asked, obviously fishing for information.

Peter simply smiled, “I guess you could say we’re nomads, so we don’t exactly have a set home, at least not around these parts...”

“Is that why there's absolutely no information available about you?” Peggy asks, finally getting to what she wants to know.

“Sort of...” Peter smiled wryly, "I’ve been away for a while." His gaze then drifted towards the front windows, eyeing the snipers across the street. "So, you must be the big boss of whatever organization those agents were from? But why the snipers? It's not like I'm a murderer or something."

Her expression briefly flickered with surprise—she hadn’t expected him to spot her kill team so easily. After all, they were expertly hidden and almost completely out of sight. Even she couldn’t spot the snipers from here, and she was an expert...

"The Jedi, and technically the Republic since the Jedi fall under their jurisdiction," Peter answered honestly.

Peggy furrowed her brow, unfamiliar with the terms. "Is the Republic a country? Like the Republic of Fiji or the Republic of Libya?"

Peter smirked slightly. "Is that your next question? Because I can't give out too much without it counting."

Frustrated but recognizing the rules of their game, Peggy hesitated. She knew she had to use her remaining questions wisely. "No, let's hold on that."

“Sure, but I believe it’s my turn now...” Peter leaned forward, his expression curious yet cautious. "Have you heard of an object known as the Tesseract?" he asked, watching Peggy closely for her reaction.

Peggy paused, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "The Tesseract?" she echoed, her tone indicating genuine unfamiliarity. "No, that doesn’t ring any bells. What is it?"

Peter studied her response, probing gently with the force, and felt the sincerity in her ignorance. There was no hint of deception, just straightforward confusion.

This aligned with his suspicions that in this universe, the Tesseract—or the Space Stone—was still shrouded in mystery, and possibly nonexistent.

"It's nothing to worry about," Peter reassured her with a dismissive wave, deciding not to delve deeper into explanations that would only lead to more questions. "Just something I came across in my travels."

Peggy nodded, accepting his explanation, though her curiosity was piqued.

"Your turn," Peter prompted, shifting the focus back to their game.

Peggy leaned forward as she formulated her next question. "When we were looking into you, we found something curious about your dog, Cosmo. Records show she's a 30-year-old Russian dog, launched into space decades ago. How did you come into possession of her?"

Peter recalled the memory of their first meeting. "I found her locked in a glass cell in a place called Knowhere. I saved her from an evil man named the Collector, and released her from captivity," he explained with a hint of pride.

"Knowhere..." Peggy repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion. She had never heard of such a place. Her tone shifted slightly as she tried to piece together the story, "So the Russians lied about the launch?"

Peter shrugged nonchalantly, redirecting the conversation to the specifics of her original question. "You asked how I came into possession of Cosmo, not about the Russian space program's public statements. If you want to know more, you’ll have to waste a question on it."

“Fine...” Peggy grumbled. “It’s your turn again.”

Peter thought for a moment, deciding to pursue a line of inquiry that might clarify some of his suspicions about what was going on in the Kree Empire. "Have you heard of something called Project Pegasus?"

Peggy's expression showed a flicker of recognition, and she nodded her head, begrudgingly telling the truth. "Yes, I’ve heard of it... but I won’t say any more on the matter."

Peter's mind raced, as he didn’t expect the project to actually exist. After all, without the Tesseract to power it, how could the project still have happened? He leaned back, considering the implications. ‘Perhaps they used a different artifact to power it?’ He wondered.

Breaking from his thoughts, Peter nodded, shocked and impressed that she actually told the truth. Truthfully, he expected her to lie, but she didn’t, which was quite commendable.

Thinking for a moment, he gave her an offer. "I'll owe you a small favor if you can get me the files for the project."

Peggy's eyes narrowed slightly, aware of the sensitivity of the information he sought. "That’s not a small ask, Peter. That information is highly classified."

Peter saw her hesitation and added, "I only need what relates to a woman named Carol Danvers."

Raising an eyebrow, Peggy considered his request. "And what’s your connection to her?"

Peter grinned. "Is that your next question?"

Peggy sighed and shook her head, conceding. "No, I suppose not."

After a brief pause, Peggy relented. "Fine, I’ll get you the information, but you owe me one."

Peter nodded in agreement. "It’s a small favor, Peggy. After all, you're just getting me some information on a pilot. Don't expect anything too big in return."

Rolling her eyes, Peggy shot back, "What are you so worried about? Don’t you have superpowers?"

Peter raised an eyebrow, amused by her sudden and direct question. "Is that your next question?" He repeated again.

“Yes, it—Wait!” Realizing her slip, Peggy quickly rephrased. "Wait, I mean, what abilities do you have?"

Peter couldn’t help but smile, appreciating her savvy adjustment. "I can use the force," he answered succinctly, giving nothing more away.

Leaning forward, her curiosity piqued, Peggy pressed, "And what exactly is the force?"

Peter's smile widened. "I’m afraid that you’re out of questions..." he revealed, as smug as could be. “That was your last one. But I still have one more, don’t I?”

Peggy groaned and rubbed her temples, a headache beginning to form as Peter's laughter filled the air, only making it worse.

Peter chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement as he prepared to pose his final question in their game.

However, Peggy, somewhat frustrated by his playful demeanor and aware she had exhausted her own questions, urged him impatiently, "Just ask it already..."

But before he could speak, Peter’s expression abruptly shifted from amusement to concern. His head snapped toward the bar, his gaze searching.

The seats where Natasha and her mother had been just moments ago were now conspicuously empty.

Standing abruptly, a wave of alarm washed over him as he called out, "Natasha!"

When there was no response, Peter’s senses stretched out, tapping into the force to sweep the entire restaurant. The clarity it brought only deepened his concern—Natasha was nowhere within the building...

A/N: 3113 words :) God Chapter!