Angie Martinelli had been waiting in the studio for the better part of the morning. Her call time had been at 6 a.m., which meant she'd been up since 4 a.m. in order to get ready and catch a subway to the studio. When she arrived, she'd immediately found Marcy, the 2nd AD, and gotten her payment voucher before being ushered off to wardrobe and, thankfully, told the clothes she'd brought would work for the day.

Then it had been another four hours of lounging in a room along with the other twelve extras that'd shown up for filming. She didn't really pay them any mind, although she knew she probably should. Networking was vital in this business, but she wasn't really feeling it today. Besides, she wasn't the only one being somewhat anti-social. She'd caught a glimpse of a brunette woman tucked away in a far corner of the room, studiously reading a book. It must've been a real barn burner, too, because she hadn't looked up once since Angie arrived.

While most of the rest of her fellow actors did crosswords or knitted – one woman was well on her way to a fabulous sweater – Angie worked on material for auditions. She had a callback next week for a small off-off Broadway show, and she needed to make sure she knocked their socks off this time. She could really use the exposure and the money. She sighed. Definitely the money.

By 10 a.m., though, she had read the piece enough times she figured she could recite it at gunpoint and, more importantly, she was hungry. When she arrived that morning, she'd made sure to scout the easiest route to the craft services table from the ladies' room. This wasn't her first rodeo, and experience had taught her a solid route to the area inevitably led to snagging the good stuff. Today, that meant sour Skittles. She'd already palmed a few bags on her previous trips to the restroom, and she took another quick circuit to see if she could snag a few more.

Unfortunately, all the candy was gone, but some beautiful soul had deposited a huge tray of chocolate cookies, so Angie helped herself to a few and hung around crafty until one of the grips gave her the evil eye, and she slunk away with the cookies and a bottle of water in her hand.

It's not like she was raking in the money with the gig as an extra, so she wasn't above taking the perks where she could get them and if that meant free food, so be it. After all, this was only the second job she'd landed this month, so far, and she was sort of hurting on cash flow, but she also didn't want to piss anyone off, so she decided to avoid the area for the rest of the day, or at least until after lunch because, honestly, the cookies really were delicious.

At 11:30 a.m., the 2nd AD finally came to the room to retrieve them for their scene, and Angie was ready to get out of holding. Standing up, she smoothed down her dress, adjusted her necklace and followed Marcy, vaguely noticing the book woman was nowhere to be seen. She must've left during her last crafty run. Oh well, she shrugged. Some people just couldn't handle the long periods of downtime.

As they walked to the set, Angie briefly wondered how long the shoot would run. The two main characters, Mark and Tiffany, were supposed to eat dinner at a fancy restaurant and get to know one another, and if she was lucky, they'd do at least a few takes of that. In addition to those takes, Marcy informed them they'd run the scene again with all of them making small talk in the background to lend authenticity to the scene. As long as she got paid, Angie didn't really care if they spoke or not. Truth be told, the film was a rom-com, and it wasn't a genre Angie particularly enjoyed, especially when most of those types of films didn't cater to her idea of romance. Although to be fair, they were slowly becoming more LGBTQ friendly; however, this one was definitely geared to a straight audience, and while that particular fact didn't necessarily bother, the simpering romance did.

What really concerned her was who'd she be stuck sitting with for the duration of the scene. She prayed to God she at least got someone halfway decent, not like that last job where she'd had to deal with the mouth breather who kept hitting on her in between takes. At first, it had been merely awkward. Then, it became annoying.

As they were ushered in, Angie snuck a peek at the actor and actress already situated at the table near the camera. Since they were fairly well known, Angie was excited to be in the same room with them, but remembering the cardinal rule of the job, she did her best to school her features into a neutral expression to avoid eye contact with the actors.

Sliding in behind the table, she settled down and grabbed a napkin, situated it on her lap and prepped for the scene. As she looked around, she saw most everyone had a companion at their table. She was just about to ask Marcy what the deal was with hers, when the tall brunette woman hurried in, seemingly ducking the glare Marcy sent her way. She quickly settled into her seat and offered Angie an apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured. "The door to the ladies' room was stuck."

"Ugh," Angie clucked sympathetically. "Been there. That's the worst. Angie Martinelli, by the way," Angie said, reaching out a hand.

"Peggy Carter," the woman replied, taking her hand and shaking it with a firm grasp. "Pleasure to meet you."

Angie grinned when she heard the woman's accent. "Ohhh, English, huh?"

Peggy laughed. "Yes, I moved over here a few years ago to work with a local playhouse up in Maine, but when that folded, I decided to come down to NYC and try my luck here."

"Oh, how's that workin' out for ya'?"

Peggy chuckled. "It could be better, but I'm not starving. "

"Well that's not nothin'," Angie teased.

"Indeed, it's not," Peggy agreed. She started to say more, but was cut short when the director called out "Quiet on the set!" A minute later, the clapper echoed, and they were filming.

Angie leaned forward a little bit, casually smiling, praying the camera would catch at least a few times during the scene so her family could see on the big screen. Lowering her voice, she continued. "So you said you moved over from England?"

"Yes, London, actually."

"Oh wow! I've always wanted to go to England. I've never been," Angie confessed. "But I have been to Canada!"

Peggy seemed confused for a moment, but then she smiled politely and nodded. "I have as well. When I lived in Maine, I often crossed the border to visit Quebec."

"Nice!" Angie said in delight. "You speak French?"

"A little," Peggy admitted. "What about you? Where are you from?"

Angie beamed. "I'm a New Yorker through and through. Brooklyn, actually."

Peggy seemed genuinely interested in that. "Oh! I have a few friends who live over there. It's a fascinating borough. I quite enjoy visiting them."

"If by fascinating you mean noisy and overpriced, then yeah, sure," Angie chuckled.

Peggy laughed, too. "So is this what you do full-time?"

"I wish," Angie rolled her eyes. "But no, unlike you, I would be starving if this was my only gig. I actually waitress at a café in my neighborhood. It's nothin' fancy, but it allows me to take these jobs, so it suits me just fine."

Peggy nodded understandingly. "There's nothing wrong with honest work."

Angie shrugged. "Tell that to my folks. My folks wanted me to be a dental assistant. But the idea of putting my hands in people's mouths and messing with their teeth," she shuddered. "Gross."

Peggy wrinkled her nose. "Not my cup of tea, either."

"I guess I should just be grateful it's not the 1940s, or else they'd probably have me off and married by now."

Peggy's eyes twinkled in amusement. "Thank heaven for life's small blessings, then?"

"You said it, English," Angie agreed. She cocked her head and gazed at Peggy. "So, what about you? Where do you live?"

"Oh, I have a place near Central Park," Peggy told her.

Angie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Central Park?" she exclaimed rather loudly and then shrank back into her seat when the room suddenly grew deathly quiet and all eyes turned on her. Peggy quickly sat back in the booth and became suddenly fascinated with the silverware next to her plate.

Marcy stalked over to her, clipboard in hand and glared. "What the hell was that?"

Angie's eyes darted around nervously, and she had to force herself to look up at the AD. "I'm really sorry about that." She caught the director glaring at her. "So sorry," she repeated again.

Marcy shook her head. "You're just lucky he," and she jerked her head toward their director, "was getting ready to stop the scene anyhow." She pointed her pen at her. "Get your shit together, or you'll be gone."

"You got it," Angie awkwardly responded, humiliation washing over her as Marcy stalked off. When she turned back to face Peggy, the other woman gave her a weak smile. Embarrassed, Angie's gaze dropped to the tablecloth, and she began counting the minute flecks of gold in the pattern until she heard "Action!"

Angie plastered a forced smile and muttered, "Well that was embarrassing." When Peggy didn't respond, she looked up to discover the brunette valiantly trying to smother a smile, but her shaking shoulders immediately gave her away.

"Oh shut up, English," Angie scowled.

"I'm sorry," Peggy chuckled. "I apologize."

Angie waved her words away with a sigh. "It wouldn't be the first time my big mouth has gotten me into trouble."

"Imagine that," Peggy murmured, shoulders still slightly shaking with mirth.

Angie glared at her for another minute, before deciding to circle back to their earlier conversation. "Speaking of trouble," she said, arching an eyebrow, "Central, Park, huh?"

"Yes," Peggy nodded.

"You sure you're only responding to the ads for acting jobs?" she winked.

Peggy's eyes widened in mock dismay, and she leaned forward and lightly slapped at Angie's hand. "I don't think I like what you're insinuating, Miss Martinelli."

"I'm not insinuating anything," Angie swore, bringing a hand to her chest. "It's just hard to believe any gal can afford such a fancy place working as an extra."

"Well, I can't afford it as an extra," Peggy admitted. "However, my grandparents left me their apartment when they passed away several years ago, so I actually own it and, therefore, don't pay rent."

"Oh wow," Angie nodded. "That's lucky for you," she paused when she realized how insensitive that probably sounded. "I don't mean it's lucky for you that they died so you got a home. I just meant, you know…"

Peggy stared at her, and Angie bit her lower lip. "I'm just gonna' stop talking now. Okay? Great chatting with you. Let's just eat our salads."

Peggy burst into quiet laughter. "Oh Angie, you're a riot. It's fine. I miss my grandparents, but as I said, it was several years ago, and you're absolutely correct – the house coming to me was rather fortunate."

Angie breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god. I have a terrible habit of putting my foot in my mouth sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Peggy teased.

"Watch it, English," Angie glowered, but the twinkle in her eyes gave her away. She picked up a fork and shifted some lettuce around her plate. "Okay, so you're not loaded, your family left you a swanky place near Central Park and you pick up roles as an extra for extra cash. What else should I know about you?"

Peggy chewed at her lower lip thoughtfully before replying. "Hmm. I like tea."

Angie rolled her eyes. "Shocker."

Peggy gave her a pointed stare, but Angie just smiled.

"I adore the theatre."

Angie's face lit up with a grin, and she practically draped herself over the table. "Oh my god, me too! Musicals are my favorites. Phantom of the Opera."

Peggy's mouth quirked up in a grin. "Dramatic love story laced with humor and sarcasm. Why am I not surprised?" she cast a thoughtful glance upward. "For me, I would have to choose Cats."

Angie wrinkled her nose in thinly veiled distaste. "Huh, I would never have pegged you for that."

"Why?" Peggy asked.

Angie shrugged. "It's just, you know… Cats." She shuddered.

Peggy appeared mildly offended. "I happen to quite like the show."

"No, no, it's fine," Angie insisted weakly. "I'm just surprised."

Peggy leaned toward her. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

Scooting to the edge of her seat, Angie bent forward, causing her hand to inadvertently brush against Peggy's. Both women glanced down, and Angie immediately jerked it away, pink staining her cheeks. She thought she detected a pleased smirk on Peggy's face, but didn't have a chance to confirm because Peggy tipped her head closer until their noses were almost touching. "And don't tell anyone, but I abhor romantic comedies."

Angie felt her heart race at being in such close proximity to such a beautiful and fascinating woman. "Me, too," she eagerly whispered.

"Cut!"

The unexpected direction startled Angie and she jerked back, quickly realizing how oblivious she'd become to the scene around them. From the disconcerted look on Peggy's face, she'd been similarly affected. The two of them had sunk into their own world and completely forgotten the movie being shot around them.

"Mark, I want to run that scene again," the director called out. "I don't like how it looked on camera. Let's try it from another angle." He glanced over to the extras behind him and waved a hand.

"And atmosphere, can you tone it down a little bit? There's conversation and then there's conversation." He pointed a finger in Angie and Peggy's general direction along with a couple beside them. "Ease on up a bit, okay?"

Peggy grinned guiltily, and Angie swallowed. She waited until the man's attention returned to his actors and then grinned at Peggy.

"So. Italian? Mexican? Fish and chips?"

"I adore a fine manicotti," she admitted with a smile.

"I knew it," Angie smirked. "I had you pegged as someone who likes Italian."

"Oh did you?" Peggy asked, arching an eyebrow, and dammit if she wasn't flirting with her, Angie realized. Her heart sped up, and she swallowed, trying to maintain a calm façade.

"What can I say," she remarked, somewhat flippantly. "It's a gift."

Peggy laughed. "Well, aren't you just a ball of modesty."

"I might've been accused of that before," Angie admitted with a cheeky smile.

"And action!"

Angie picked up her fork as the scene began again, and tried to discreetly catch Peggy's eye as she pretended to be engrossed in her meal. She knew it was ridiculous, but she was completely intrigued with the British was witty, liked musicals, was gorgeous as hell and, unless Angie was completely misreading the situation, she was definitely interested in her, too; however, she had been burned by going down assumption road before and didn't want to embarrass herself or Peggy without knowing for sure if the other woman was similarly inclined.

She decided to play it safe for a little longer.

"So," she asked, bringing her fork up to her mouth. "What are you doing after this wraps up?"

"I'm meeting a friend, actually," Peggy told her, taking a sip from her water glass. "He and I are helping another friend move a few things."

"Oh, a friend?" Angie said, voice dropping off in disappointment. Apparently she had been right to probe a little deeper before diving into her rapidly-developing crush.

"Yes," Peggy nodded. "What about you?"

"I'm probably gonna' grab some takeout," Angie said. "I have an early shift tomorrow, so I should probably try and get a little sleep."

"Oh, that's a shame," Peggy told her.

"Yeah," Angie automatically agreed, but then paused. "Wait. Why's that a shame?"

"Well, I was rather hoping you might care to join me for a glass of wine after I finished up helping my friends," Peggy admitted.

Angie perked up and she couldn't keep the grin from spreading across her face. "You did?"

Peggy's lips curled into a sly smile, and Angie watched as she slowly inched her hand closer until her pinky was discretely gliding over the side of Angie's palm. "Well yes," she confessed. Her eyes darted to Angie's lips and then back up to hold her gaze. "Unless I've misread you?"

Angie felt a delicious warmth course through her. "No. No no no," she quickly reassured Peggy. "You absolutely read that correctly."

Peggy shifted her fingers so they could fully cover Angie's hand, and Angie felt like she was going to melt through the seat at the feeling of all that warmth and softness.

"Well, it's a gift," Peggy smirked, tossing Angie's earlier words back at her.

Angie's tongue darted out between her teeth as she grinned, and Peggy groaned dramatically.
"What?" Angie asked.

"It should be criminal for someone to be this adorable."

Angie ducked her head and chewed on her lower lip. "Oh you're smooth, English," she laughed. "I don't know if I'll be able to withstand your wiles. Might not even make it back to my own bed tonight," she laughed, dropping a wink to let Peggy know she was teasing.

Peggy licked her lips and grinned wolfishly. "Actually, I'm counting on it."

Angie's mouth fell open and time seemed to slow down. Her eyes fixated on Peggy's sultry red lips, the woman's confident words echoing in her mind, and the warmth of Peggy's hand covering her own causing her thoughts to race. Peggy gave her a knowing a smile, and then Angie felt a warm foot glide up along her bare calf.

All of these things combined were more than Angie's poor mind could process. Letting out a startled yelp, her right knee violently crashed into the underside of the table, sending their water glasses flying across the linen tablecloth. Once again, the room grew completely still.

"That's it," the director yelled, pointing at Angie. "You! Out! Now!"

Flushing with embarrassment, Angie turned and grabbed her purse from beside her. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry," she profusely apologized. "I'm so sorry."

She glanced at Peggy who had the good grace to look ashamed, and then, surprisingly, Peggy stood up.

The director glared at her. "Not you. Just her," he said, pointing a finger again at Angie.

A look of resolve seemed to pass across Peggy's face before she spoke up. "If she goes, I go."

The director looked at her incredulously and then snorted. "Like I care? Fine. Go."

Angie gave her an astonished look, but Peggy simply nodded and reached out to take Angie's hand, before tugging her out of the room. Neither woman said a word until they exited the studio doors.

Turning to Angie, Peggy frowned. "Oh Angie, I am so sorry. I shouldn't have antagonized you so."

Angie scowled and slapped Peggy's forearm. "Damn right, you shouldn't! What were ya' thinking? I'm pretty sure I won't be working for that agency again." She ran her hand through her hair. "Geez, English, at least give a girl warning before you go teasing her like that."

Peggy averted her eyes and sighed. "You're right. It was highly unprofessional of me. I'm afraid I got caught up in the moment and forgot we were supposed to be working."

Angie started to respond but stopped as Peggy's words registered in her brain. "Wait? Are you tryin' to tell me you were being so flirty with me that you actually forgot we were on a job?"

Peggy flushed with embarrassment but nodded. "I'm afraid so."

Angie's face lit up in a smile. "Oh my God, English. That is probably the sweetest thing a girl has ever said to me."

Peggy looked at her hopefully. "Does this mean you're not upset with me?"

Angie shrugged. "Well, I'm a little upset with you."

"Okay," Peggy said, obviously unsure of what she else she should say.

Angie decided to be bold. After all, she'd just been kicked off the only job she had lined up for the week. At this point, what else did she have to lose? Leaning in, she pressed her pink lips against Peggy's smooth cheek. When she pulled away, she found Peggy gaping at her in surprise.

"But it's nothing a tall glass of wine and a private tour of your Central Park apartment can't cure," Angie informed her with a wink.

At that, Peggy broke into a wide smile, her eyes twinkling in amusement. "I still have to help my friends this afternoon, but I think that can be arranged afterwards, Miss Martinelli."

"I thought that might be the case," Angie smirked. She reached down and laced her fingers through Peggy's. As the two began to walk toward the subway entrance, Angie watched their joined hands leisurely swing back and forth. She was quiet for a few moments before turning to catch Peggy's eye.

"Oh, and one more thing, Peggy?" she said, a playful note creeping into her voice.

"What's that?"

"If possible, I prefer my eggs sunny side up."

Peggy grinned. "That can definitely be arranged."