Work Text:
When Agent Sousa joined the SSR, he had expected to be pitied, expected the sideways glances and the not-so-subtle remarks about make sure you don't slip on the stairs and I'll run those files down for you, the SSR really values efficiency.
A buddy from the hospital told him once that the best thing to do was to grin and bear it. If they get to you, don't let them see it. So that's what Agent Sousa did. He grinned and he beared it.
Agent Carter arrived a month after he did.
Something in Sousa seemed to spark back to life when she sat down two desks behind him. Carter carried herself with a grace and importance he had never seen in anyone before. It wasn't a self righteous "I'm better than all of you" type of importance, much like the aura constantly surrounding Agent Thompson. No, her importance stemmed from the desire to do good, to make change. Agent Sousa respected that.
Of course, he had heard rumours. He expected the taunts about Carter as well. Whenever they got bored of chewing out Sousa, they'd turn to their glorified secretary for a source of entertainment. Then they would turn back to Sousa and the cycle would continue.
Dame worked with Captain America.
Probably did a bit more than work I'd wager.
Sniggering from the wolves.
But then again, if the men they worked with were wolves, Agent Carter was a veritable lion. Whatever they threw her way, she had a quick comeback locked and loaded, ready to fire. That was a difference between the two of them: while Sousa built up a blockade against their words, Carter used them as fuel for her fire. A fire burning deep and bright that he somehow knew would one day set the world ablaze.
Sousa wondered how she did it sometimes.
That was, until he stumbled upon her tucked into a corner of the file room with a sandwich resting on a box next to her and notepad open on her knees. He caught mutters of whatever she was saying as she wrote. It sounded like a shopping list.
Sousa had tried to shuffle away slowly but, damn his crutch, he knocked into a cabinet.
I'm sorry, Agent Carter, I didn't mean to disturb you.
It's no bother Agent Sousa, did you need something?
That was how they started. They seemed to bump into each other more often after that, or at least that's what Sousa thought. Perhaps he was just paying more attention to her than before.
Soon he would start to see the woman behind the agent, Peggy. She was more of a whiskey girl, had a surprising love for turkey sandwiches and much preferred tea to coffee. Although, if coffee was the only option, she would rather not have it tasting like the most bitter gates of hell opened up thank you very much.
Later, on opposite sides of an interrogation table, Sousa would realise he was holding an idolised view of Agent Margaret Carter, but that wasn't to come any time soon. Right now, he would just let himself feel in silence. He would let himself slowly fall for her.