Two months had passed since Peggy Carter successfully cleared Howard Stark of the treason charges leveled against him. In that time, she'd decided to return the SSR, had moved into one of Stark's mansion with her dear friend and was generally enjoying being able to live a life without as many secrets as before.

She'd spent the last week catching up on paperwork, as the events involving Leviathan had put her woefully behind on that aspect of her job. Why, it was only yesterday she'd finally managed to give Chief Thompson the file concerning the missing milk truck and production of one of Howard's "bad babies."

Almost as if he knew she was thinking of him, Jack Thompson strolled into Peggy's peripheral vision, sauntering over to her desk and dropping a file in front of her.

"Carter. I'm going to need you to make a run back to the Daisy Clover Dairy and give it a final onceover. Top brass wants to make sure we got everything.

"Chief Thompson, I assure you, the sweep came up clean," Peggy replied. She couldn't mask the irritation in her voice and knew the man could hear it, but Thompson didn't seem to care.

"And I say I want eyes on it one last time." He folded his arms and smirked at her. "I suggest you go during your lunch hour – fewer people."

"Actually, I already have lunch plans tomorrow," she coolly informed him. Angie had practically begged her to try a new diner down on 42nd Street since she would have the day off after a morning audition.

"Cancel them."

She glared at him. "I'd rather not."

"It's not up for discussion, Carter," he told her, heading back into his office. "I want your finalized report on my desk by the end of the tomorrow."

XXX

Angie Martinelli was no detective, but she didn't need to be to know something was wrong with her roommate. Although nobody would ever call Peggy Carter jovial, she generally came home in a decent-enough mood, shouting "Angie, I'm home!" as she waltzed through their front door.

Generally.

But tonight, Angie hadn't even known Peggy was home until she slinked into the kitchen and plopped herself at the dinner table. Angie knew something was wrong when Peggy slouched. Peggy never slouched.

Although Angie tried, she couldn't wrestle it out of Peggy. The British woman politely thanked her when Angie slid a plate of homemade spaghetti in front of her, but she barely said a word after that. As soon as she was finished, she excused herself and announced she was retiring to the study. Angie watched her stalk away, but said nothing.

After cleaning up the dishes, she briefly contemplated joining Peggy, but when she peeked through the cracked doorway, she could see the older woman at her desk, a frown etched on her face as she scratched out something on a piece of paper. Deciding it best to give the woman some space, Angie settled herself in the living room and spent the next couple of hours memorizing lines for her upcoming audition; however when the clock chimed 9 p.m., she rose and went in search of Peggy. She was amused to find her friend no longer at the desk, but instead stretched out on the couch, fast asleep, the first few buttons of her blouse undone and her shoes neatly positioned by the edge of the rug.

Angie sighed, heart constricting as she watched Peggy sleep. There was no denying her attraction. She clung to the tiny hope that maybe the lovely British woman would someday return her feelings, but she knew that was about as likely as Broadway calling her tomorrow and casting her in a new show. After all, it wasn't likely Captain America's girlfriend would trade in an American hero for a diner waitress. Who would? Still, a girl could dream.

She wondered what thoughts were dancing through Peggy's mind as she lay there, gently snoring. Although she knew Peggy generally didn't like remaining on the couch through the night, she decided to let the woman sleep. After all, she'd had a hard day, and there was no point disturbing her when she seemed so peaceful.

Walking over to the desk, Angie reached to turn off the small lamp, but halted when she saw a woman's name elegantly written in Peggy's distinctive hand.

Ruth Barton – NY City, Health Inspector

Tomorrow – lunch – 12:30 p.m. (fewer people onsite)

Change of clothes

Hairbrush

Clean stockings

Bobby pins

Blanket

Glasses

Basket

Sandwich

*Remember Ruth's red lipstick – bloody pain getting it out of collar last time*

Angie's cheeks grew warm. She wasn't sure who Ruth Barton was but this read like a checklist for an illicit affair. She gazed back over toward the sleeping woman. Although there had been a few moments here and there where she could've sworn Peggy was flirting, Angie had never seriously considered Peggy might be violets.

Excitement fluttered inside her at this realization. Peggy – gorgeous, intelligent, buxom Peggy Carter – liked women? Angie's mind began racing with possibilities. It'd just turned the corner of a quiet evening spent nestled in her Peggy's arms, lips gently teasing the soft skin of her neck, when everything came to a screeching halt.

Ruth Barton.

Angie was almost certain she'd never heard Peggy mention anyone named Ruth. So who was this woman whose name was above the love affair checklist Peggy had so elegantly detailed at her desk? A woman who apparently came before the lunch plans she and Peggy had made for tomorrow. Plans that Angie had gone to great lengths to secure after she found out she and Peggy had the same day off this week – something that rarely happened.

The hurt and jealously that coursed through her was palpable. Angie had thought, apparently naively, that maybe someday she'd get the chance to tell Peggy how she felt. But now, there was this… this health inspector to deal with. Angie scowled and bit her lower lip. Peggy was always telling Angie she believed in her, that it was only a matter of time before Broadway came calling, and Angie believed her. Had something changed? Was Angie not good enough for her now? Sure, she was only a waitress right now, but she was going places. And yeah, a city health inspector was several steps up from pouring people's coffee, but she was going places!

Angie scrunched up her nose. What did this Ruth Barton woman have that she didn't? Didn't Peggy know all she had to was ask, and Angie would be hers? Peggy could've at least had the decency to let Angie know she wasn't going to be able to make it tomorrow but she hadn't said a single word all night.

Suddenly, letting Peggy sleep didn't seem like so great an idea. Angie wanted answers and by gosh, Peggy was going to give them to her. She leaned over her roommate and gave her shoulder a not-so-subtle shove. "Peggy."

Peggy stirred but didn't wake up, so Angie nudged her again, a little harder this time. "Peggy, wake up."

Peggy's brows furrowed into a frown, and she muttered, "Go away. I'm sleeping."

Oh, so that's how we're going to play this, Angie fumed, eyebrow arched. She gave Peggy a long hard stare, then bent down and placed her lips next to Peggy's ear, until they were almost touching the outer shell.

"MARGARET CARTER! WAKE UP THIS INSTANT!"

Angie leapt back as Peggy bolted up off the couch, eyes wide in panic, fists swinging. When she realized no one was attacking her, she turned around and stared at Angie, concern etched into her features.

"Angie! Good Lord! What's wrong?!"

Angie folded her arms and gave Peggy an unimpressed stare. "Nothing's wrong."

Peggy gaped at her incredulously. "Then why in God's name did you scream my name?"

"I tried waking up you nice, but you weren't budging," Angie shrugged. "Had to resort to more drastic measures."

Peggy's eyes narrowed. "You had to?"

Angie gave her an innocent look. "You're the one who told me not to let you sleep on the couch again."

Peggy pursed her lips. "Yes, but that's not what –"

"And you're up now, so mission accomplished," Angie cut in. "Anyhow, I'm heading up to bed, English."

Peggy swung her feet to the floor and glowered at her. "Well, you're in a cross mood."

Angie scoffed. "This from the woman who, up until 10 minutes ago, hasn't said more than ten words to me all night."

Peggy had the good grace to blush and lower her eyes. "Ah yes. I had a rather poor day at the office and –"

"It's fine," Angie muttered, waving a hand in Peggy's direction as she turned and walked toward the door. When she reached it, she spun around and leveled a piercing look at Peggy.

"Are we still on for lunch tomorrow?"

Peggy looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Actually, I meant to discuss that with you."

"Yeah?"

Peggy bit her lower lip and frowned. "I'm terribly sorry, Angie, but I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to make it. Something came up."

"You get a better offer?" Angie fired back.

Peggy's eyes widened. "What? No, of course not!" she protested. "Why would you think that?"

Angie merely shrugged. "Kinda' crummy to up and cancel our plans this late, Pegs. But you know what? That's fine."

Peggy stood up. "Angie, I can assure you-"

Angie turned and waved dismissively. "No, it's fine, Peggy. I know a brush off when I see it."

Peggy started to protest again, but Angie was already out the door closing it behind her with a resounding thud.