It was fun being a brunette for a while, but now Dottie's gone red. Once she's finished thoroughly casing Peggy's place, she takes a little time in the bathroom to primp and retouch her makeup. The shade of red she picked is a little too bright; makes her look washed out. She'll have to choose something darker next time. Once she's satisfied, she heads back to the living room and takes up her position on the couch and waits.
It's not Peggy who opens the door, to her disappointment. Chief Sousa switches on the light and stops dead in his tracks when he sees her.
"Why, Chief Sousa," Dottie says with a grin, pointing her gun at him casually. "So nice to see you again. How's Peggy? Oh, and keep your hands out of your jacket, if you please. White carpet is so difficult to clean."
"Underwood," he says warily, "I take it you're not here for a social visit."
"Oh, please call me Dottie. We ought to be on a first name basis by now, don't you think, Daniel?" She pats the seat next to her. "Now come in and shut the door, and let's not do anything foolish. You and I can catch up until Peggy gets back."
If there's one thing Peggy really doesn't want to see when she gets home from doing some late night surveillance, it's Dottie Underwood on her couch with a gun pointed at her fiancé.
"Peggy!" Dottie exclaims. "I didn't know you two were engaged. My two favorite agents, getting married. I can't wait to get my invitation in the mail."
"Don't hold your breath. What are you doing here?" Peggy takes a step closer. Her voice is carefully neutral, but Dottie sees the tenseness in her muscles and how her breathing quickens as her eyes dart to Sousa. Peggy is a worthy rival, to be sure, but her weakness has always been other people.
"Hold on, Peg. First thing's first; drop your gun." Dottie watches closely as Peggy reaches into her jacket, slowly pulls out her weapon, and places it on the ground.
"I hate to say it, but I think you're getting sloppy," Peggy says.
Dottie doesn't even have time to say "What do you mean by that?" before Sousa whacks her in the head with his crutch. Carter springs forward and tackles her, the gun spinning out of reach. Dottie manages to get in a couple good punches before she hears the familiar click of a gun to her head.
"Well done, Daniel," Dottie says. A quick calculation tells her that his balance is tenuous and it wouldn't take much for her to shove Peggy into him and knock them both down, but that's not what she came here for. It would be satisfying, though.
She lets them tie her to a chair. "Just like old times," she says brightly. "I've missed good old American hospitality."
"Tell me, is it normal Russian guest behavior to threaten your host at gunpoint after breaking and entering?" Sousa asks.
Dottie turns to Peggy. "Your pet scientist was cute, but I like this one better. You're very well-suited for each other. Partners in self-righteousness. If one must spend time around men in the first place, that is—"
"That's enough," Sousa interrupts, picking up the phone. "We're calling this in. Miss Underwood has a cell waiting for her."
"She's probably been here for hours, Daniel; I'm sure the first thing she did was cut the phone lines," Peggy says, and Dottie's smile confirms it.
"If you think I cut my vacation short just so you could put me back in a box, you are very much mistaken."
Peggy leans in close. "Dottie, you've already killed dozens of civilians and attempted to destroy a city. Give me one good reason why we shouldn't lock you up and throw away the key."
Dottie leans forward too, so their faces are just inches apart. "Maybe you shouldn't have let me go in the first place, if I'm such a menace. I was convenient to you back then, but now that I'm no longer useful, back to my cell I go. You have this idea that if you lock up your problems they will go away. What you don't see can't hurt you."
"That's wonderful, but I think we're going to need a less abstract reason to not take you back to the station right now," Daniel says dryly, setting aside his crutch and taking a seat across the table from her. "So get to the point."
She sits back and shoots him an irritated look. "I paid a visit to our dear mutual friend Whitney Frost the other day. I walked right in. Your people, evidently, are not interested in her anymore—like I said, lock her up and you're finished."
"The prolonged contact with zero matter destroyed her mind," Peggy says. "Trying to interrogate her at this point is a useless exercise."
"Other parties are not convinced of that, and you're even more obtuse than I thought if you believe zero matter was her only project."
Now she has their attention. "The Russians are interested in Whitney Frost? Why are you telling us this? What do you want?" Daniel asks.
"Sharp as ever, Chief. We can get into the specifics of what I want shortly, but in the meantime, you're going to untie me. Right now."
"And why are we going to do that?" Peggy snorts.
Dottie smiles. "Because I happen to have several people following me…three at the last count. It may be more by now. My task was to obtain the information from Whitney Frost, deliver it to the appropriate parties, and then they were supposed to kill me. My cover was blown long ago and it seems that I'm no longer convenient to them either. I delayed them for a few hours but by now they should be nearly caught up to me. And by extension—you. Did you remember to lock the front door, Peggy? Not that it will make much of a difference."
Peggy stiffens, and Sousa grabs his crutch. "Cut her loose," Peggy directs him through gritted teeth, and draws her gun.
Something made of glass shatters in the next room over. "Well, well. That must be your living room window," Dottie remarks. "They're right on time."