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2021-01-04
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A Regular Old Sleepover

Summary:

In the aftermath of Daniel's death, Peggy seeks comfort from an old friend. One-shot. Soft Cartinelli.

Notes:

This one-shot disregards absolutely everything the MCU said about Peggy Carter post-TFA except for Agents of SHIELD and Agent Carter. That means no mystery husband and no Steve. Please enjoy this tiny dash of Cartinelli ;)

Work Text:

July 25, 1955

The phone down the hall rang, startling Angie from her fevered line memorization. "I'm coming!" she shouted at it, then set down her pen and stood, lifting the receiver and putting it to her ear. "Hello, this is Angie Martinelli speaking."

There was a moment of silence, then she heard a shaky breath on the other end. "Hello, Angie."

Angie's eyes widened. "English?"

"Yes, it's me."

"Well, aren't you a sound for sore ears?" Angie replied, her expression brightening. "How ya been?"

Another moment of silence. "I'm afraid...not well."

Immediately, Angie's face grew clouded. "What is it, English? Those schmucks at work still giving you a hard time after all these years?"

She heard a watery chuckle. "No, it's not that. My work is taking me into your part of town tomorrow, and I was wondering if I might drop by for a visit."

"My door's always open," Angie replied. "Lucky for you, I'm between jobs right now."

"Lucky for me indeed," Peggy replied, sounding relieved. "I'll, uh, bring some Schnapps, shall I?"

"It's a date."


Angie examined her reflection in the mirror, rubbing her lips together to smooth her pink lipstick and then puckering them, turning her head this way and that. She frowned a little. Was it too much? It was just a visit with an old friend, there was really no need to get dolled up for it. She reached for a wipe to take it off, then hesitated, still staring at her reflection. Then a knock on the door decided her. Turning sharply away from the mirror, she flounced out of the bathroom and down the stairs, smoothing her hands down the front of her very modern-and very flattering-pencil dress.

With a quick breath in and out, she opened the door. And there she stood: Peggy Carter, Schnapps in hand, immaculately dressed in a blue pantsuit, and her trademark red lipstick framing a strained smile.

"Peg, it's so good to see you!" Angie said, reaching across the threshold to pull her into a hug.

"You too, Angie," Peggy replied, squeezing her warmly.

"Come on in." Angie led the way inside, shutting the door behind them and deftly relieving her guest of her Schnapps and her blazer. Peggy followed her into the small sitting room, where Angie poured two glasses and sat down across from her, leaning forward conspiratorially. "So what's on your mind, English?"

Peggy traced the rim of her glass with her thumb, following the motion with her eyes. Eyes, Angie noticed, that were ever so slightly puffy. "Hey,' Angie said, reaching over and placing a hand on Peggy's wrist. "Whatever it is, you can tell me." Peggy looked up at the ceiling, inhaling sharply as her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Peg." Angie set her glass down on the table and moved to sit next to her, gently taking the glass from her hands and putting an arm around her, rubbing her back. Peggy shut her eyes, and the tears spilled down her cheeks. She took a huge, shuddering breath and glanced over at Angie, whose eyes were large with concern. Peggy shook her head and wiped at her cheeks in an effort to pull herself together.

"I"m so sorry, Angie, I don't know what's come over me."

"It's all right, English. Just talk to me. What happened?"

A fresh wave of tears welled up, and Peggy bit her lip, fighting them back. "I…" The tears choked her words short, but she swallowed them back and pressed on. "One of my...colleagues. A man I had grown to respect and...trust." She raised her eyes to the ceiling again, shaking her head slightly. "He...died. Last week."

"Oh, Peg, that's awful." Angie took her hand.

Peggy's brows drew together, and another shuddering breath shook her frame as her shoulders slumped. "I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye," she whispered. "To tell him...how much he meant to me." Helplessly, Angie squeezed her, pulling her in closer, and Peggy turned into her embrace, letting her forehead fall onto her shoulder.

"Tell me about this guy."

"His name was, uh, Daniel Sousa," Peggy managed, her voice slightly muffled. Her face crumpled as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

"What was he like?"

Peggy's mouth lifted into a pained smile. "He was...a good man. A very good man. I trusted him with my life."

"Handsome?"

Peggy laughed wetly. "Yes. Quite handsome."

"You know, the name rings a bell. He didn't happen to be one of those guys who broke into my apartment that one time looking for you?"

"Yes, actually he was," Peggy replied. "I had quite forgotten about that."

"Please tell me he wasn't the blonde one." Angie looked down at the top of Peggy's head. "He seemed like a real jerk."

Peggy shook her head against Angie's shoulder. "No, the other one."

"The one with the crutch?"

"Yes, that's him."

"Good," Angie replied. "I don't know what I would have done if you'd told me you liked that other guy."

Peggy straightened and frowned at Angie. "I don't recall ever admitting that I liked anybody."

"Oh please, English. It's written all over your face. You clearly had a thing for this guy."

Peggy opened her mouth to object, then shut it. Her expression grew distant, and her gaze fell to her hands again. "I...did. And we were seeing each other for a time, but...it didn't work out." She rubbed a thumb across her palm.

"Why not?" Angie asked gently.

"Our careers took us in different directions, I suppose. Once we realized what had happened, it was too late to really change anything. So he asked for some time to think it over, and that turned into years of silence." Her unfocused gaze remained on her hands. "I wonder sometimes if we might have made it work. I suppose now I'll never know." She looked so hollowed out, so worn and so exhausted.

"Hey, why don't you spend the night here, English?" Angie asked. "It looks like you could use the company." Peggy just nodded, her eyes glassy with tears. "All right, I'll go find you some pajamas to wear. There better still be some of that Schnapps when I get back."

Peggy smiled weakly up at her as she left, then downed her glass in one gulp. She'd had more to drink over the past few days since learning of Daniel's death than she liked to admit. She'd lost so many people over the years: Michael, Steve, Colleen, Chief Dooley, Jack Thompson. And now Daniel. She poured herself another glass and downed it, wincing as the alcohol burned on the way down. She set her glass down on the table firmly and took a deep breath. It never got any easier.

"Here ya go, Peg," Angie said as she walked in, bearing a bundle of emerald green silk. "These are my favorite, so don't do anything too crazy in them." Peggy acknowledged this with a tiny nod, and stood to accept the bundle from her. "You can get changed in the bathroom," Angie continued, pointing the way. She watched Peggy as she made her way down the hall, her brow crinkling with concern. She'd known Peggy for going on ten years now, and she had never once seen her this cut up. The bathroom door shut behind her, and Angie heaved a sigh, reaching for her untouched glass and taking a gulp. Then, setting it back down again, she walked to the bathroom door and gave it a little tap.

"I'm gonna go get changed in my room. Come and give me a knock when you're done, and we can have a regular old sleepover!"

"All right," Peggy replied after a moment.

Nodding to herself, Angie continued down the hall to her room and shut the door behind her absentmindedly. Truth be told, she really had no idea how to help Peggy feel better. She didn't think she'd ever really been in love-though there had been plenty of guys after her-and she'd definitely never lost anyone like Peggy had. All she could do, she thought as she stepped into the bottoms of her second-favorite pajamas, was be there for her.

A soft knock sounded at the door as Angie slipped her top on, and she said, "Come in."

Peggy stepped inside, standing erect once more, her face a little damp from being washed, but her flatly determined expression more like the Peggy Carter Angie knew. "Come on over, Peg, and let me brush that beautiful hair of yours." Obediently, Peggy sat on the bed while Angie brought over a brush from the bathroom. Angie knelt on the bed behind her and pulled the brush through her hair with even, strong strokes.

"Thank you, Angie," Peggy said. "For all of this."

"My pleasure, Peg," Angie replied, then her hands stilled as she grew serious. "I missed you."

Finding herself tearing up once more, Peggy smiled softly and replied, "I've missed you, too."