V 1.01

Angie was going through a script when she heard Peggy's key in the lock. Finally, she could stop policing Howard—though, luckily, she hadn't had to concern herself for the last couple of hours.

"Howard, I have the…" she heard Peggy call.

Angie flipped a page in her script.

"Howard!" Peggy called.

She really should tell Peggy how thin the walls actually are, Angie considered, and how well she could hear her shouting. Good to know, she thought, as Peggy stormed into the hall.

"Where are you now?" she heard.

Of course, Angie knew where Howard was, and wasn't at all surprised to hear his voice—more quiet and muffled than Peggy's—from down the hall. At least he had the decency to introduce Helen and Peggy.

As if they didn't already know each other, Angie scoffed to herself as Peggy herded Howard back to her apartment.

"You are disgusting!" Peggy rebuked, and Angie had to smother her chuckles with her script.

After that, Peggy was considerably more quiet in discussing whatever business she had with Howard. And thank goodness, because there was no way Angie could have covered for her if Fry came sniffing around through any of that.

Oh… Angie realized. Fry would be coming around, and soon, to put out the call for dinner. And, really, she could just see Howard screwing that up.

Absolutely not, Angie decided, and she threw her script aside. Then she slipped into her shoes, resolve unwavering, and left her apartment to dart downstairs before Miss Fry could head up and potentially discover Howard.

She would gather the others for dinner herself, and keep Miss Fry as far away from Peggy's apartment as she could!

When she finally found herself in front of Peggy's apartment door, Angie took a moment to gather her wits about her. She reminded herself that she wasn't supposed to know about Howard, and that, as such, she should make an effort to act just as she normally would.

"Normal…" she whispered to herself, and then knocked on the door.

When there was no answer, Angie had a brief moment of panic that maybe Peggy really was sleeping with Howard. Oh, like hell, she told herself. Peggy had way more respect for herself than that.

"Peggy!" she half shouted, and still there was no answer from within Peggy's apartment. She knocked again, refusing to be ignored. "Peggy! Are you in there?"

There was a long pause before Peggy's voice carried to her, far more muted than usual, "Uh, actually, Angie, I'm feeling a little under the weather." She must have been holed up in the bathroom, and Angie wondered just what in the world they were doing if they weren't sleeping together?

"Jesus you suck at lying," Angie muttered, shaking her head. But she wasn't about to let Peggy off that easily. If she didn't at least put in an appearance at supper, it might raise Fry's suspicions. "Peg, are you sure?" she called through, feigning concern for Peggy's feigned illness. And then, very deliberately keeping her voice light, "You need Pepto?"

Really, Peggy should know better than to play these games with her. Angie could just imagine the aggravated and embarrassed look on Peggy's face when she heard the half-sighed, half-shouted, "Coming." Really, it was all she could do to keep a straight face when Peggy opened the door a few moments later.

She looked harried, Angie noted. And immediately, her mood fell and she disliked Howard even more. As if the jerks at the phone company—whatever it actually was—weren't causing Peggy enough trouble…

And she almost commented on it all—had her mouth open and everything—but managed to shut herself up just in the nick of time. She wasn't supposed to know, she reminded herself.

It wasn't until Peggy asked her, "What's wrong?" after closing her apartment door that Angie even realized she was looking pretty frustrated with it all.

She wasn't supposed to know about Howard, Angie reminded herself again.

And she reminded herself again.

And again.

Then, Peggy touched her arm, "Angie?"

"I just…" God she hated to do this. "If I didn't know any better," she said with a smile, "I'd think you were avoiding me." She didn't mean it. She knew what was going on. Sort of.

But the guilty look that twisted Peggy's face.

Jesus, that hurt…

"Angie…"

Angie forced a laugh. "Sorry," she chuckled through a smile that felt wrong on her face. "I've just had all day to make myself nervous."

Damn that Howard.

"I know you probably had a rough day with the boys at the phone company."

Damn that Howard!

"I'll keep until you're feeling up to talking." She nodded Peggy towards the stairs. "Now go eat, soldier, before you starve to death."

As she'd hoped, the bit of humor concerning Peggy's eating habits earned her a quirk of those beautiful, shapely lips, just before Peggy headed for the stairwell.

Crisis averted. Once Peggy was out of sight, Angie heaved a sigh and allowed herself to physically. Then she cast a dark look to Peggy's apartment door.

"God damn you to Hell, Howard Stark," she cursed under her breath.

When Angie finally made her way downstairs, the sight of Peggy awkwardly, and obviously, stealing food did more to lift her spirits than she every would have thought. Come to think of it, Angie had never seen Peggy steal anything from the table, and she briefly wondered how she made it through the day or night without something small to at least nibble on. But there she was, stealing food—probably for Howard, Angie realized sulkily—and it looked like the poor thing needed a bit of guidance.

And so, Angie smoothly inserted herself in line behind Peggy, saying, "These rolls keep for three days," as she reached past her friend to collect said rolls and shove them in her handbag. She didn't bat an eye at the way Peggy jumped. Better not to draw any attention to her. "Four if it's cold and you put them out on the windowsill."

"Oh, uh, glad to hear it," Peggy managed, and Angie marveled at how uncomfortable this was making her. "Um, I don't often steal food," she finished haltingly.

"Are you kidding?" Angie deadpanned, gesturing beyond Peggy to Carol. "Carol once fit a whole chicken down her sweater."

And Carol was all too happy to add, "My mom knit a special chicken pocket!" her curls bouncing around her smile.

And just as Peggy was beginning to look more amazed than terrified, Vera chimed in with "Gloria's got a compartment in her pocketbook that can fit a cup of gravy."

From the table, Gloria nodded vigorously, cheeks stuffed to the point of puffing, as Dottie opened up her pocketbook to have a peek.

"Well, would you look at that!" she breathed in wonder, Gloria hardly paying her any mind and she continued on with her meal.

If all that didn't make Peggy feel better, nothing would, Angie decided. Though, when Peggy turned to face her, clearly still jittery, Angie knew they'd only helped a little bit.

The smile was forced, Angie knew, and Peggy's eyes darted all about, as if looking for threats to her escape. "Uh, I'm going to eat in my room. I have the last five pages of the new Agatha Christie." Angie had to shove a roll in her mouth to keep from telling Peggy to calm down. "Good night!"

Angie didn't watch her go. Instead, she determinedly stared at the serving table and chewed through the massive bite of the roll she'd taken, listening to Dottie ask Gloria if she could make her a pocketbook to hold pickles.

It was only a short while later that, still sitting and eating her supper, Angie watched Peggy stride out the front doors.

Angie knew Peggy well enough by now to recognize when she was upset. And when Peggy showed up a little over an hour later, looking more serious than she had when she'd left and snipping hellos back to the girls who greeted her, she knew something was wrong.

Peggy was halfway up the stairs before Angie was able to pull herself away from a conversation with Alice and follow her trail.

What on Earth had happened?

Three quarters of the way to their floor, and Angie heard Peggy's apartment door shut.

And when she finally made it within earshot…

"You know how, uh, dangerous that could be?" she heard Howard ask. He sounded nervous.

"What's in the vial, Howard?"

Angie's blood ran cold. She didn't think she'd ever heard that tone of voice from Peggy before. She heard some muttering, and Peggy asked Howard what was in the vial again in that clipped, no nonsense tone.

Not five seconds later, she heard the sound of meat hitting meat, and Howard grunted.

Angie could only stare at the door in shock. Had Howard hit Peggy?

"You used me. You lied to me." It was a higher end to Peggy's emotions that Angie had never heard.

"You hit me!" Howard argued.

Ah.

"You don't get to use my reaction to your lies as a reason for your lies!"

"Yeah, I do! I knew how much Steve meant to you, because I know how much he means to me! I was protecting you!"

"Oh, don't pretend this is about me and my emotions! You were out to protect you!"

"Yeah, I didn't want to see this turmoil that you're in. Look at you!"

"I trusted you, Howard!" Peggy roared at him.

Angie looked around nervously, hoping if anybody had to be up here that it was only Helen and Lorraine.

"Yeah, I know! And I was wrong. But you have to understand, a kid like me doesn't get to where I'm at by doing—"

"What? Wanted for treason?"

The venom in Peggy's voice told Angie that this was going to get worse before it got better.

She'd better run interference again, she decided. Just in case.

"Oh, please let everybody be downstairs," she prayed as she headed that way herself.

It was the slowest three minutes of her life until Peggy came stomping down the stairwell, eyes glassy and expression stormy.

"Peg?" she called, from where she stood at the bottom of the stairwell like a guard. "You okay?"

The way Peggy's lips pursed, the little shake of her head skyward, and the vein jumping in her neck all told Angie that she was not okay. She looked completely wrung out.

She wished Peggy had hit Howard harder.

"I'm, uh," Peggy sniffed, swallowing against the emotions Angie could so plainly see. "I'm going to step out for some air," she said, careful to enunciate each and every word to avoid sounding as watery as she looked.

Angie immediately stood to attention, falling in by Peggy side as she made for the door. "I'll come with you," she told Peggy. "You look like you could use some good company."

For a moment, Peggy looked like she was going to say no, but then she offered a sad sort of smile and walked outside with Angie close beside her.

Angie lamented her lack of a coat almost immediately after they left. The days were warm enough, sure, but the nights were still chilly and damp, and Angie could feel the chill down to her bones. Even worse, Peggy hadn't even worn a coat for Angie to charm her out of!

At least the fresh air seemed to do Peggy some good, though it had taken a good five blocks for her to calm down enough that she wasn't stomping her heels through the sidewalk. And thank goodness; Angie had worried the entire time that she would break a heel if she kept It up.

Not a single word between them almost four blocks later, and the worry Angie had been letting go of crept back into her mind. She knew she couldn't ask what was wrong, because it was a can of worms that Peggy couldn't talk about and it would only frustrate her more. And so, Angie did the only thing she could think of.

Wordlessly, she slipped her hand into Peggy's as they walked, and gave a light squeeze.

Peggy actually seemed startled, almost as if she'd forgotten Angie was with her, and looked to their joined hands. A moment later, she squeezed back, throwing a grateful smile Angie's way.

Angie felt that it was possibly the best thing she'd done for Peggy all day.

They returned to the Griffith a good forty-five minutes later, still hand-in-hand. They hadn't spoken at all, but the ease of Peggy's smiles for the girls who offered a tentative "Hello" warmed Angie's heart—though the closer they got to their floor, the more Angie's stomach tied itself into knots. She ignored it as best she could, tenaciously swallowing her nerves down as they came closer and closer to the third floor landing.

Then, before Angie knew it, their apartment doors were in sight and she had to relinquish her hold on Peggy's hand to dig her keys from her pocket. She fished around, fingertips tingling where they missed the warmth of Peggy's grasp, and she had to mentally remind herself to close her fingers over the small set of keys she kept passing over.

Even focused on selecting the proper key so she wouldn't look like a complete fool, Angie couldn't help but notice the way Peggy eyed the hall instead of heading back to her own apartment—almost as if she expected someone to suddenly materialize in the corridor.

Angie stepped close to her door. Probably the spooks after Howard, she considered, aiming her key for the lock.

Or just Howard… she realized, the mere thought of that mustachioed jerk making her miss.

Angie glared at the keyhole as her key skidded across the metal, hands shaking with fury as she tried to slide the it in again and again. Just the thought of that pig and the trouble he'd dragged Peggy into made her blood boil.

She'd never been so angry before!

Angie forced a slow breath out through her nose, teeth clenched against the urge to march over to Peggy's apartment and break that bastard's nose.

Then Peggy's hand landed on hers, firm and steady, and helped her to guide the key into the lock.

Angie silently marveled at how quickly the burning heat of rage could turn into a burning need for Peggy, as she stood motionless with Peggy pressed against her back.

"I'm sorry," Peggy whispered, her breath warming Angie's chilled skin. "I know it's agitating waiting on me."

Angie leaned back against Peggy, bringing both her hand and Peggy's away from the key—still in the lock—and to the opposite side of her face. She rubbed her cheek over the back of Peggy's hand and then pressed a kiss, soft and purposeful, to the side of her wrist. "Don't apologize," she whispered back, nuzzling where she'd just kissed. "I told you I'd keep."

Peggy cupped her hand to Angie's cheek, and Angie landed one…two…three kisses before her head was turned to face Peggy.

"I still want to talk," Peggy told her vehemently, thumbing the thin scab on Angie's lip. "But I want to be able to tell you everything, and there's something I need to finish working through first. Will you wait for me?"

Angie kissed the thumb running along her lip, eyes bright as she stared into Peggy's. "Take all the time you need, English," she said. "I'll wait."

Then Peggy smiled—the first real smile Angie had seen on her all day—right before her lips descended upon Angie's.

This kiss was different from the one they shared the morning before, all soft and gentle and full of promise. Then it was over, and Peggy smiled so beautifully at Angie, she thought her heart might just burst from the sheer joy of it, even as Peggy pulled herself away to head for her apartment.

"Thank you," Peggy called quietly, flashing one last smile at Angie before she unlocked her door and slipped inside.