"Singing telegram for Ms. Peggy Carter!" Angie called from the other side of Peggy's apartment door. "As in, open the door or I'll start singing!"

"It's open," Peggy said, slotting her hand into her purse and around the butt of her gun, just in case it was someone taking Angie hostage to make their way in. After the deaths of Colleen and Krzeminiski, she was taking no chances.

It was just Angie, though, of course. Bright as a sunbeam even at the tail-end of the evening. "You shouldn't leave your door unlocked, English, c'mon. How long have you lived in the States?" Demonstrating, she closed the door and put on the chain. "Maybe there aren't any men allowed up here, but the girls can be sneaks just fine."

"Well, there are some who I wouldn't mind sneaking in. Even if I do appreciate their good manners in knocking first. Or…" Peggy waved a hand. "Whatever."

Angie smiled at her. Peggy loved that. Just getting a smile from her by saying the most… the silliest things.

Angie planted herself on the bed, that being apparently the best angle to examine Peggy at her writing desk. "Now, Pegs, weren't you in the Army or something?"

"I would hardly call it that," Peggy chuckled. "It wasn't like I was running into burning buildings, shooting at Nazis. I did some filing."

"Yeah, somehow I have a hard time seeing you as the secretarial type. You just got me thinking this morning, talking about how this place isn't impenetrable. Maybe that big brain of yours has some further thoughts you'd like to share…?"

Peggy stood, pulling her blouse straight. "And why would you want to know?"

"Oh… who knows?" Angie leaned her chin on her fist. "In case my brother blows into town, maybe I'd want to put him up here."

She stood before Angie with her hands on her hips. "You have a brother?"

"I never told you about him?"

"You've told me damn near everything else. Twice."

"Don't go pretending you don't like that I got a mouth on me, Peggy Carter." Angie smiled snappishly at her. "Alright. Maybe if there's a hard luck case, who don't have any money for a room and there ain't a bus to take him back to his dear, sainted mother until morning. What should I do? Just leave him to stick it out at the bus station?"

"Perish the thought. You're far too generous."

"Yeah. That's me. All heart. Thing is, I only have the one bed, so…"

Peggy's head dropped to one side a bit, reminding Angie of a cobra flaring out its hood. "Why, Angie, I thought you were seeing someone. What would they have to say about this business of you and your… 'hard luck case'?"

Angie rolled her eyes thoughtfully to the ceiling. "I don't know. They don't talk to me much some days. Some days, they blow me off, and though I know everyone needs their space, it hurts, right? They can have their space, sure, but don't I get to share their space?"

"I'm sure your paramour shares as much as they can."

Angie hmmed. "Still. I'm one of those play-for-keeps gals, you know? If I don't get a little attention, I'm liable to let someone else take me right off their hands. You seen that Dottie chick moved in down the hall?" Angie bugged her eyes out. "Humina!"

Peggy sat down beside her, crossing her legs to draw up her skirt. "Sounds like a puppy I once had. Absolutely had to be played with every day or she'd make a mess on the carpet."

Angie giggled coyly. "If that's what it takes to get your attention…"

"Oh, I don't think such drastic measures will be required."

Angie was blushing, the full force of Peggy's intense concentration on her, the Brit's thinking like a physical thing, she could feel it, it was already touching her deep in her belly and cripes, it felt good.

She laid back on the bed. "So, Miss Army Secretary Commando Lady… what would it take to get to the second floor of this building? And keep in mind, Harry Houdini couldn't do it."

"Mmm." The look of lust that Peggy gave Angie was so intense that she could really feel it, that touch in her loins becoming a stroking hand, she thought she might faint! "Well, I may only have been a secretary, but I did pick up a few things. First, we need to survey the building's security…"

Her hand passed over Angie's face, plucking at a lock of hair, moved as if to caress her cheek but didn't touch, came within a hairsbreadth of her lips but didn't touch, then pressed firmly to the collar of her blouse and moved down it. Angie bit her lip as she felt the heat of Peggy's touch only through her work uniform.

"Security's pretty tight," Angie said haltingly. "Might give you some trouble."

"Oh—no trouble at all." Peggy reached to the neck of Angie's blouse, broke the button, snapped it open. She didn't stop there. "What extraneous elements there are must be dealt with. Guards neutralized. Fences cut. Locks picked." With all of Angie's blouse unbuttoned, Peggy spread it open to her brassiere. She gave Angie a wicked smile, feinted for Angie's breasts burning in their cups like they were in an oven, but then pulled her hands back to find the zipper on Angie's skirt.

"But you still need to get inside," Angie told her, barely able to stick to their game when every ounce of her wanted to tell Peggy to just fuck her, eat her up like a piece of candy in a schoolyard. Gobble her up before anyone else could have her.

"Oh, I'm getting to that." With the skirt unzipped, Peggy merely flipped it open, the halves of it below Angie and to her side, but no longer covering her. And her panties barely seemed to. They felt translucent. Intangible. "See, no matter how… tight… a building's security system is, there's always a human element. Someone to hold the keys. And they can be compromised. Turned. Made weak…"

Christ, that accent. Why did Peggy have to have a body like that and a face like that and then that accent? If Angie had any of those, she could rule the world, she just knew it. But she'd settle for Peggy. Seemed a lot more fun than the world.

"Like, this person with the keys," Angie began breathlessly, "maybe they're a little skank? A girl who just can't say no?"

"Exactly," Peggy breathed. Her busy, busy hands were like hummingbirds, flying from flower to flower. Angie just closed her eyes and felt them, stripping her girdle away, her slip. And Angie let her. Angie would let her do anything. "And once you know their secret, you just use it. You make them let you in."

"And what if they make it difficult?" Angie asked, giving one last pouting look to Peggy. She knew it was petty, but she hated how she never said no and some days it seemed like it was all of English's vocabulary.

Apologetically, Peggy put a kiss on the tip of Angie's nose. "Then you simply have to press." Her hand fell to the top of Angie's step-ins, probing under the hem, pushing at the skin there, then lower, and lower, and lower. "And you keep pressing until they let you in." Lower, lower, lower… there, where Angie was already wide open, where she slipped right in. "And they always let you in."

Angie was almost fearful. Maybe the preachers were right. Maybe nothing good was supposed to feel this good. "What then?"

"Then…?" Peggy's fingers were inside her, they were so far inside her, long and slender, inside her for miles, curling, finding spots Angie had never known you could touch. "You move through the building… nice and quiet… until you find your target."

There. Oh, nuts, Angie had never known it was real, she'd heard the other girls talking about it but never known her spot was so real, it felt like something Peggy had put there, somehow transplanted into her. Like suddenly part of Angie was from an angel, it felt like.

"And then?" Angie whimpered.

"You plant the explosive." Peggy's fingers were in ceaseless motion, rubbing, circling, the tongue in a big wet kiss. "It counts down from a nice high number… giving you plenty of time to run… then you sit… and wait… to see that it's gone off without a hitch. Waiting, calmly, patiently…" Her lips came down, those perfect things, perching at Angie's ear to let out a voice that could only survive between Peggy's mouth and Angie's listening, not in the cold stale air of the apartment. "Waiting for it to explode."

Angie clenched on Peggy's fingers like she wanted to hold them there, keep Peggy forever, keep feeling this forever. Her angel-flesh ran warm and wet, her pleasure became a scream, but Peggy ate it up with a kiss that came over Angie like a fever. Nice and quiet. That's how you had to do these missions.

Her fingers came away. Peggy's mouth went back to Angie's ear. Back to the voice that could only exist in Angie's memory. "I love you, Angie."

"I love you too, Pegs."

Then, wrung out but happy as a clam, Angie watched lazily as Peggy prepared for bed. She'd locked her own door before coming over, turned down all the lights. Hoping this would be one of the nights when she got to stay over. And, wonderfully, perfectly, it was.

After all, what was wrong with two girlfriends spending the night? It wasn't like they would let any men in.