A/N: Apparently some people thought that my original story was "sexist" and suffered from "internalized misogyny". In an act of gutless political correctness I've gone back edited the story to overcome these issues, removing any semblance of nuance or subtlety until this story was undeniably overtly feminist. If you were one of the sexist pigs who enjoyed the original story, don't worry. I've still got that up so you can bask in its misogynistic glory. But if you're one of those people who sees patriarchy behind every tree, then this is the story for you.

Peggy woke to find Angie still in her bed. "Morning English."

"Angie!" said Peggy. "What are you doing here?"

"You don't remember last night?" said Angie. "Where we had consensual sex in which we respected each others boundaries."

"I do." Peggy rushed out of bed. "I just didn't think you'd still be here. What if Mrs. Fry catches you?"

"Relax English." Angie looked at Peggy's alarm clock. "It's only six thirty. That's plenty of time to get back to my room."

Angie got out of bed and reached for her clothes. Peggy watched as she changed back into them. "I didn't know you had a mole down there."

"Really?" said Angie. "I'm pretty sure you had plenty of time to get acquainted with that part of my body. Also, stop objectifiying me."

Peggy kissed Angie as she started to get dressed. "I'm sorry, I won't ever do it again."

Angie kissed Peggy. "Do you we'll have time to-"

"No," said Peggy. "We're already cutting it a little close."

"I can be real fast," said Angie.

"No you can't," said Peggy. "And if you continue to press the issue, you'd be tantamount to a rapist."

"Fine, I fully respect your rights of agency as an individual." Angie proceeded to head towards the door.

Peggy kissed Angie right before she left. "See you tonight, if you're up for it?"

"I will be," said Angie.

Angie left Peggy's apartment and headed down the hall. Just then Dottie popped her head out from behind her door. "Hey Angie. What were you doing in Peggy's room?"

Peggy's heart skipped a beat while Angie struggled to think of an excuse. "Uh...well English was having a problem with her sink and see wanted me to...uh see it."

"Really?" said Dottie. "Why didn't she just tell Mrs. Fry?"

"Well..uh," said Angie. "She didn't want to bother her and she knew I could fix it."

"You fixed her sink?" said Dottie.

"Yeah," said Angie. "Isn't that what I said?"

"Right, I mean in this day and age we women are often encouraged to learn how to do handiwork," said Dottie. "It's just, my sink has been having trouble too. Can you look at it?"

"I can't think of a reason to say no." Angie desperately looked to Peggy, who only shrugged.

Dottie led Angie into her room and Peggy followed. Dottie showed Angie the sink. "It keeps backing up whenever I use it. I think it might be blocked. I don't know anything about plumbing as an individual, that in no way reflects on all women."

"Yeah, that's what I figured," said Angie with the most confident voice she could muster. "I'll tell Mrs. Fry that there's some kind of blockage."

"That's the same thing that was happening with my sink." Peggy chimed in.

"Oh." Dottie turned to Angie. "Then you can just do what you did for Peggy."

Angie scowled at Peggy. "I guess I'll have to then."

Angie got under the sink and looked at the plumbing, occasionally tapping the pipes to give the illusion she was checking for blockages. Eventually she got out from under the sink. "Did you find it?" said Dottie.

"I did," said Angie. "But I can't really do anything without some tools. Do you have a toolbox?"

"Unfortunately no," said Dottie. "Because I lost mine in the move to New York, not because I'm a woman."

"Well I kinda need tools to fix the sink," said Angie.

"Didn't you have tools when you were working on Peggy's sink?" said Dottie.

"Yes, she did. She probably left them in my room." Peggy headed for the door. "Let me get them."

Peggy rushed back to her apartment and made a beeline for her bedroom. Underneath her bed was a box of things that she needed to survive in a city full of potential rapists. Peggy rummaged through there until she found a wrench and something illegal that could be conceivably be used as a screwdriver. In reality it was a spike that was used to impale the testicles of suspicious looking men. Peggy went back to Dottie's room, finding only Angie standing over the sink.

"Where's Dottie?" said Peggy.

"She's in the bathroom." Angie looked at Peggy's hands. "What are those?"

"Tools," said Peggy. "I got them to help you fix the sink."

"Why would you do that?" said Angie.

"To help you fix the sink," said Peggy.

"I can't fix the sink," said Angie. "You realize that English?"

"I was just trying to help," said Peggy.

"If you really want to help, you can fix the sink for me," said Angie.

"I can't do that," said Peggy. "If I did, Dottie would see through the whole lie and get suspicious. Clearly I know how to fix the sink, avoiding the implication that women can't do handiwork."

"Fine," said Angie. "Here, ake those back to your apartment, come back, and tell Dottie that-"

"Tell me what?" Dottie emerged from the bathroom. "Are those your tools?"

"Yes," said Angie sheepishly.

"Great," said Dottie. "You can fix my sink now."

Angie went back down under the sink and again pretended to know what she was doing. Peggy tapped her foot nervously. For a moment she entertained the idea of sedating Dottie and running out of the apartment. Peggy saw a lamp that could easily knock someone out with a good blow to the head. Of course she nixed the idea, not wanting to perpetuate violence against women.

Angie was just as nervous as Peggy. After awhile of inspecting the pipes, Angie reached for Peggy's tools and started to remove a section of the plumbing, which simply sat there, oppressing Angie with its phallic shape. Dottie, equally intimidated by the pipes, simply looked at Angie with a look of awe on her face. Peggy had to admit it was impressive how Angie was keeping up the charade. Angie finally managed to remove the piece of pipe she wanted. Of course this meant that Angie was drenched by the dirty water that had been trapped in the plumbing.

"I'm so sorry," said Dottie. "Here, let me dry you off."

"No, it's fine," said Angie. "I think I know where the blockage is."

"Great," said Dottie. "Can you unblock it?"

"Of course she can," said Peggy indignantly, though she secretly admitted it was a fair question.

"Yeah," said Angie. "I think I can do it, but I'll need-"

Just then Dottie's door was flung open and in walked Mrs. Fry. "What is going on here?"

Dottie was the first to speak. "It's my sink. It's been having some problems and Angie said she could fix-"

"Fixing sinks?" Mrs. Fry looked at Angie. Mrs. Frey apparently had a low opinion of women plumbers. "Why didn't you ask me so I could get a real plumber?"

"Well, Angie is a real plumber," said Peggy. "She fixed my sink."

"She fixed your sink?" said Mrs. Fry.

"She's a really good plumber," said Dottie.

"I have no doubt about Angie's plumbing ability," said Mrs. Fry. "I mean this is the 1940s, a time of unprecedented social progressiveness. But the next time you have a problem with the plumbing, tell me and I'll have my man fix it."

"Right," said Dottie. "We'll do that."

"Of course," said Peggy. "I just figured that with your rule about men above the first floor."

"That's good thinking," said Mrs. Fry. "The last time I called a plumber, there were five potential rapes before he reached the stairwell and...I am no exaggerating...he asked Miss. Watson from apartment 5C for coffee."

"How horrible," said Peggy.

Mrs. Fry and Dottie went downstairs for breakfast. Peggy and Angie followed them for a bit, but Peggy pulled Angie aside once the two had turned a hallway.

"Thanks for covering for me, English," said Angie.

"No problem," said Peggy. "Anything for you."

Angie kissed Peggy on the cheek. "Thanks."

"Hey, do you want to change into something clean?" said Peggy. "Not to imply that women must conform to the traditional standards of beauty."

"Yeah, I need to do that." Angie headed towards her apartment. "Would you like to help me change?"

Peggy grinned. "Maybe, assuming you consent to the following sexual activities we will perform."

"Of course," said Angie playfully.

"Great," said Peggy as she followed Angie back to her room.