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i.
The first time it happened, Peggy had told Angie she was in need of some advice on what to wear. She had an undercover operation that required her to be dressed to the nines. Angie had excitedly accepted, like she always did when Peggy asked for help with one of her missions. Angie liked to think of herself as Peggy’s secret weapon. She’d never say that out loud, of course.
So, here she was, lying on the left side of Peggy’s bed and waiting for the Englishwoman to come out of her bathroom. She had been in there for the last fifteen minutes and Angie was growing impatient.
“Come on, Pegs. I don’t have all night.” Angie heard a light chuckle on the other side of the door before it opened and sat up, ready to tell her friend how good she looked. That is, until she actually saw what Peggy was wearing. She was… stunning.
Beautiful.
Too hot.
“So, what do you think?” Peggy shifted awkwardly under Angie’s gaze. Angie would have loved nothing more than to answer her friend but right at the moment, her brain could not come up with a coherent sentence.
Peggy was wearing a red dress, cut just above the knees, hugging her figure at all the right places. Oh, and that v-neck… Angie tried to sit straighter, placing a hand on the bed behind her to steady herself. Except that she miscalculated the distance between herself and the end of the bed. Her hand grasped thin air, inexplicably making her fall off the bed. She let out the most ungraceful squeak.
Peggy rushed to her side and crouched down, looking for injuries. When she was reassured of her friend’s physical health, she started giggling.
Peggy Carter was giggling.
Angie Martinelli might not have had any physical injuries, but her ego was bruised.
Damn that red dress and Peggy’s perfect body.
ii.
A couple of weeks later, the bed incident was a thing from the past. It hadn’t been discussed since then and it would stay that way. Nothing like that would ever happen again. Angie promised herself that much.
She didn’t know how wrong she was.
She had just served another one of her rude customers (a regular who always tried to touch Angie’s legs, what kind of creeper even did that?) when she walked in.
Peggy walked into the L&L Automat like she owned the place. Now, Peggy was one of Angie’s regulars. Not only that, she was her friend and roommate; Angie was used to Peggy’s confidence. What made her stop in her tracks was what Peggy was wearing.
That was a new suit. Not that Angie knew Peggy’s wardrobe by heart, but she was pretty sure she’d remember a skirt that short. Of course, it wasn’t very short, but it was shorter than usual, because Angie could see the skin above Peggy’s knees.
Hot damn.
Angie averted her gaze just in time to see Peggy smile at her. She smiled back, glad to still have enough brains to muster a semi normal reaction before getting distracted again.
Honestly, how could someone’s smile be so beautiful? It made her feel warm all over. More than warm, she felt a burning sensation.
Literally. She felt a very burning sensation on her stomach.
And her hand.
Oops.
“Angie, are you alright?” Peggy approached her with a concerned look on her face. That might have had something to do with the fact that Angie just poured coffee on herself.
Very warm, very hot coffee.
“Yep, just need to change. I’ll be back in a jiffy with your order.” Peggy nodded before letting go of Angie’s wrist, which she had grabbed to get her attention.
While she walked away, Angie tried to decide what burned the most: the coffee on her front, the skin Peggy had touched, or her red cheeks.
iii.
Everything comes in threes, right? Angie should have known.
It was Saturday. She had her day off and, with a sudden burst of energy, had decided to clean the kitchen. She liked the kitchen, she always had. The smell of cooking and the familiar banging of pans against each other all reminded her of afternoons spent with her mother learning the secrets of family recipes.
Today, however, she was cleaning the inside of the cupboards. It was something she had seen her mother do countless times, especially when she had something on her mind. And apparently, Angie was transforming into her mother, stress cleaning and putting all of her emotions in her scrubbing.
She was scraping at some weird residue at the end of the cupboard when she heard a familiar sound of heels.
Peggy’s heels.
Due to recent events, Angie got off the chair she had been standing on to reach the cupboards. Not many risks of falling down, this way. She started washing her hands and waited for Peggy to stop right behind her.
“Angie, I need your expertise.” She turned around and found Peggy standing, hands on her hips, frowning slightly.
“What do you think of this shade of red? I wanted to try something knew but this… This feels too red.” Peggy held out what looked like a new lipstick baton and pointed to her lips. Her beautiful pouty lips.
Oh no. No, Angie, stay focused.
“It looks nice, English.” It looked more than nice. It looked perfect, but then again anything related to Peggy always looked perfect to Angie. She bet Peggy would look perfect even with smudged lipstick all over her face and lips bruised from kissing too passionately and ruffled hair-
Oh my god.
Angie needed to get out of here. She needed fresh air, a cold shower.
She needed Jesus.
She turned around, attempting to get away from Peggy and hiding her blushing cheeks. Except that something was in her way.
It was too late when she registered the open cupboard door right in front of her face. Too late for her to avoid it.
Yep, bad things always came in threes.
iv.
This time, there was no bed to fall off from, no hot burning liquid and no stupid cupboard door to slam her head into. This time she should have been fine.
Except apparently she couldn’t trust her own body anymore.
She had gone to the movies with Peggy. They had laughed at inappropriate moments, groaned at the whole damsel in distress thing and ate too much popcorn. Angie loved the movies, but she always seemed to enjoy it even more when Peggy was with her.
They were walking back now, with linked arms and in comfortable silence. The air was getting colder by the second and the clouds were turning grey and menacing. Angie was praying for it not to rain, or for them to get home before it started. No such luck. The downpour started right as Angie finished that last thought.
She was pretty sure the universe hated her or something.
She was also expecting Peggy to pull out an umbrella out of her purse because what kind of respectable english person would go out without an umbrella?
Peggy would.
Peggy would also look up at the sky and smile. She was actually smiling at the rain and Angie let go of her arm because she needed a moment to wonder how she had fallen in love with a mad woman who smiled at the rain.
Wait a minute.
Love?
Angie was in love with Peggy. Her heart started beating so fast she was convinced it would break out of her ribcage, run away and leave her dead on the pavement. This couldn’t be good.
Or could it?
Looking at Peggy, still smiling, with her arms now open as if to hug the clouds, Angie realised there was no way out of this. She didn’t want there to be. Right from the moment this woman had entered the Automat, Angie had been doomed. How could she resist that laugh and that smile, those legs and those curves, that accent and that voice? Easy. She couldn’t.
She had fallen in love with her best friend, an adorable idiot who was now dancing in the deserted streets of New York during a downpour.
Peggy realised Angie wasn’t dancing with her but was watching her with a smile. She smiled back and extended a hand in Angie’s direction.
“Dance with me.”
“In the rain? English, are you crazy?”
“Well, it’s better than just standing there.”
Okay, Angie admitted she had a point. She chuckled and, still staring at Peggy and her wet hair, smudged makeup, and gorgeous smile, walked over to Peggy.
Or at least, she tried.
She didn’t walk over to Peggy. She walked on her own foot.
She fell down on her face.
v.
Angie usually hated Monday mornings. Except for today.
Today, she had woken up with a smile on her face, a light heart and a bruise on her knee from her fall the previous day. Still, her spirits were up and so was she.
She decided to make pancakes to celebrate her good mood on a Monday. She also wanted to share her good mood with Peggy, who she knew liked Mondays as much as she did. That was, not at all.
A few minutes later, Angie was happily munching on her food when a grumpy Peggy made her way to the kitchen and sat in front of Angie who pushed a cup of tea in front of her. Peggy smiled gratefully. Angie forgot to chew and started choking on a piece of pancake.
Why must she always make a fool of herself.
This needed to stop. Peggy needed to stop making Angie forget how to function like a normal human being. Angie would probably not survive beyond the age of 25 otherwise.
“Angie, darling, it’s too early in the morning. Please, don’t die.”
She was trying.
vi.
She was standing in front of Peggy’s bedroom door trying to muster up the courage to knock. Angie had decided enough was enough. She was going to confront Peggy and tell her to stop. She needed to tone it down or Angie would probably get hit by a bus next time, like her cousin Ralphie, God rest his soul.
She was still trying to figure out exactly what to say when Peggy opened the door and jumped out of her skin.
“Bloody hell! Angie, what are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.” She smirked as Peggy clearly tried to calm herself down. “You’re pretty jumpy for a spy.”
Peggy huffed and took Angie by the wrist to drag her inside her bedroom. She sat on the bed and invited Angie to do the same but Angie just frowned, remembering the incident from a few weeks prior. Plus, she needed the confidence that standing over Peggy gave her. Now, she just needed to use words.
“You need to stop.”
Peggy frowned. “What do you want me to stop? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?”
“No! Well, yes… I don’t know, maybe?”
Peggy was about to say something when Angie vehemently shook her head. She walked closer to stand right in front of Peggy. She put both of her hands on Peggy’s shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes.
“You’re too beautiful for your own good. And for my sanity.”
There was a moment of silence after the words left her mouth. It wasn’t awkward or anything.
She was lying.
It was awfully awkward. Angie still had her hands on Peggy’s shoulders, and had no idea what to do with them. She should have probably removed them, but then she would anxiously pick at her nails and at this point she didn’t know which was worse. She held her stare for a few seconds before clearing her throat and looking at the ceiling.
Maybe she should have sat on the bed. Then, she’d have been able to throw herself off of it with enough force to knock herself unconscious and forget about what just happened.
After what felt like an eternity, Peggy slowly stood up and gently removed Angie’s hands from her shoulders.
“Thank you, Angie, and I’m sorry my- my beauty has caused you such pain.”
Angie just nodded. “Yes, well, try to tone it down in the future.”
“I will.” Peggy tried to bite back a grin at her friend’s antics.
“Very well. Have a good night, English.”
“Good night, Angie.”
Peggy was smiling that soft, loving smile of hers and Angie wondered how she got this lucky. And,because she apparently didn’t give a damn anymore, she found herself brave enough to close the distance between herself and Peggy and leave a chaste kiss on her cheek. She lingered, probably longer than necessary, but when she pulled back, Peggy was blushing.
So what if she had countless bruises on her body because of the fact that she apparently became the biggest klutz when Peggy was around? That look on Peggy’s face made every single one of them worth it.