[ what oliver considers to be her rookie mistake is one she quickly considers to be his. for peggy, it was never about carte blanche. for peggy, it was simply about watching whether the man could at least acknowledge how rubbish his lying has been. after all, she isn't asking for how he was injured -- all she wanted was for him to admit, aloud, that it wasn't sustained while riding a motorcycle.

frankly, the truth of the story doesn't matter to her one bit. it's about as relevant to peggy as her being impaled on a bit of rebar would be relevant to him. that is to say: not at all.

doesn't mean she doesn't gain anything from the exchange. in the end, it teaches her that his caution is not professional but personal. this isn't a trained operative -- this is someone who is reflexive, who is instinctive, who is paranoid.

peggy stands up only moments later. ]

I wasn't asking you to buy anything, Mister Queen. But so be it -- I hope you can find it in you to enjoy at least a bit of what's left of the party. We don't often get nights like these.

[ there's no rush to stop him. after all, peggy carter has never had anything to prove. ]