Step one of her new operation is the simplest step. Peggy calls the President's office and asks if one Angela Carter is on the list to perform at the White House Correspondents' Dinner.

Why no she is not.

Oh? Really? Well if it isn't too much trouble you should ask her. She sings wonderfully and this new western has made her quite popular with your boss's constituents.

"Oh, thank you so much for the suggestion ma'am!"

If Angie will accept the offer she will then have to be in Washington DC, a considerably smaller town than New York. So if she and Peggy "happen" to run into one another than it is coincidence. The sort that Peggy can smoothly play off as a surprise.

Which is exactly what she does when she "runs into" Angie at the White House a week and a half later. Angie's just met the President and First Lady and enjoyed a tour of the reconstruction of the White House. She's wearing a Christian Dior suit and daringly shaped hat is easily the most stylish woman in a twelve block radius.

Peggy is wearing her favorite blue suit and red shoes and until she saw Angie she was sure she was the most stylish woman in a twelve block radius. Now she's excited and envious and also on her way to meet with the President on matters of world security involving a recent "date" she had to endure with Namor, the "Sub-Mariner."

They see each other. Peggy smiles so widely her cheeks hurt. Angie looks startled. Glances away.

Not one to be dissuaded Peggy smoothly steps in front of her. "Ms. Carter, I'm a tremendous fan of your work," she announces enthusiastically. It's odd saying her own name like that.

Angie peers at her a moment-as if she's trying to figure out Peggy's game. Something, Peggy likes to think, softens around the eyes. Then she just dryly says, "Thanks."

"Were you-were you looking for the bathroom? I can escort you." It's a terrible excuse. So bad in fact that she has to take Angie's hand and guide her towards a bathroom before her escort, a clean cut teen in a blue suit and White House tie, can protest or Angie herself can point out how silly the excuse is.

The bathroom is empty. There's two stalls and both doors are wide open. "We've got to stop meeting like this," she jokes when she realizes they're making a habit of seeing one another exclusively in bathrooms.

Angie seems a little more nervous. She tugs at her gloves and then pulls down the bottom of her jacket. Anxiously asking "What on earth are you doing here," as she fidgets with her hat.

"Meeting with the President."

She shakes her head, "You're pulling my leg."

"I'm not. In fact I will now be," she glances at her watch, "two minutes late."

"Then maybe you better skedaddle?" Angie is clearly, impossibly, confused. And her hat is off-kilter. It's endearing.

"I will. I am." She takes a step towards Angie, her sensible heels clacking on the tile, and Angie steps back, her more sophisticated shoes barely making a sound. "I just wanted to apologize. The other day I made a tit…of us both."

Angie's so very even. Just staring. Sharp blue eyes unblinking. "Real tit."

"I should have been more…delicate."

"A little."

"And I understand if you're not keen on-if you're not keen on me. But I would like to hope we could be friends?"

She laughs. Did Angie always have that sort of laugh or was it something cultivated out west? "English whatever we are it isn't friends."

Peggy sighs.

"And whatever we may be? It's not gonna be fair to the fella who's rings you're wearing."

Reflexively Peggy's thumb brushed across her rings. She really should take them off. "What if I told you we were getting a divorce?" Peggy sounds too hopeful about it for polite company.

Angie smirks, "I'd say that was some timing."

There's a half a dozen other things Peggy can say then. Though they're all likely to go as well as this current exchange. "Well. Then." She slaps the files in her hand against her thigh. "I'm sorry for wasting your time." Glances at herself in the mirror. At Angie, who stares so hard when she thinks Peggy isn't looking. "I suppose we should go look for your escort now?"

"Sounds like a plan."

She holds the door for Angie and guides her out. Her tour guide is at the other end of the hall looking deeply confused.

"Hey English," Angie says, smile bright and eyes on anything but Peggy. "You know a Representative Chalmers?"

She does. He's on the Foreign Affairs committee and a frequent guest at the dinner parties she and Daniel host.

He's insufferable.

"We met at a party a few months ago and he's just been absolutely delighted I'm in town," Angie says conversationally. She pushes at her hat again and tries to fix it. Peggy probably should have let her use the mirror. "Keeps taking me out to dinner."

Peggy's plasters on her biggest and falsest smile. "How lovely."

Angie's eyes flicker over her and Peggy thinks, that maybe, she sees a kind of smile. Like she being put on. "Apparently he's got a big dinner party he's going to in a couple of days. Would just love for me to join him."

It is only through considerable grace and willpower that Peggy doesn't trip. "Are you…attending?"

"Sounds like it could be a hoot. I'm just glad I have a date." They're almost to her escort so Angie turns around and takes Peggy's hand in hers and squeezes it like they're old school friends. She's smiling so brightly Peggy wishes she'd worn her sunglasses inside. "Would be a little funny if I showed up all alone huh?"

She smiles back. "Yes. Yes I suppose it would," she says congenially.

Files stowed under her arm Peggy reaches up and rights Angie's hat.

And Angie swoops in and kisses her cheek. It's all very friendly. Just things friends who happen to be women do. "Next time just send an invitation," she murmurs.

Peggy would be inclined to agree, but she's busy being something of a tit again. It's Angie's proximity. And her voice. And the way she's cottoned on to Peggy's plan.

Unlike some people Angie Martinelli is never boring.

They part and Peggy has to try and turn her mind back to the matter at hand. Chiefly explaining to the President of the United States that Namor has agreed, again, to not invade New York.

It's the third time this year.

####

That night she comes home a little later than usual and Daniel is in the kitchen staring hard at a peculiar arrangement of flowers. They're shaped like a bird.

"Where on earth did these come from," she asks.

Daniel doesn't saying anything. Just wordlessly hands her the card as he continues to stare because it is very uncommon to get something like a foot and a half tall arrangement of flowers shaped like a bird.

There's no signature. Just a neat scrawl that Peggy remembers well from her every check at the L&L.

"How about from now on this be the only tit in the room."

Peggy snorts so loudly it wakes the children.