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Barnes stole a Jeep!

Howard Stark makes a mad dash for the front seat, gleefully jumping in.

James Buchanan Barnes good-naturedly rolls his eyes from the driver's seat. He lightly elbows Howard into the backseat. Peggy watches as James opens the door, holding out a hand politely for Steve to grasp onto. Steve takes the cue, nodding to his childhood best friend.

"I heard there's a pub nearby! Let's book it!" Howard hollers. He thrusts a finger exaggeratedly into the air out in front of him.

Peggy bites down a laugh.

"That sounds like a suitable plan."

She smiles along with everyone else, climbing into the backseat and 'oohing!' when her gigantic muscle mass creaks the Jeep.

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It's nice to clear her mind.

Peggy wonders if this is what she needed since being entangled with this Super Soldier program. They drive away into the frigid and starlit evening, shouting their conversations over the wind, and heading far, far away from the Strategic Scientific Reserve.

Even if it's only for a little while…

Cigar smoke wafts into Peggy's nostrils. She usually would be coughing and sniffing through a hellish reaction on her sinuses, but Peggy merely examines the pub. Loads of men and loads of men smoking. It's crowded, but not uncomfortably so. Not one of the men spares Peggy a look, and that is absolutely fine by her. Peggy rather enjoys the privacy of the dimmed gas-lanterns.

She orders a glass of whisky, sloshing the lump of ice inside it. James has a pint of strong, foaming golden beer he brings to his lips, and Steve cradles his water between his fingers. Howard, on the other hand, has a drink that smells curious to Peggy.

"Woo boy!" Howard proclaims, waving his face slickened with sweat. "This has got a KICKER to it!"

"There's a touch of hot sauce in your cocktail, Howard."

"There's WHAT?"

Howard guffaws after a moment, taking in Peggy's overly earnest look, shrugging and swigging his drink with relish.

"I kinda LIKE it, Cap!"

James whistles, distracting them, jabbing a finger towards a young woman down the way.

"Anybody know this dame?" he calls out. "She's a dish, don't get me wrong—but she keeps eyeballing us!"

"Couldn't be for me," a gloomy Steve mutters under his breath, gulping his water. He lets out a sigh when James ruffles Steve's hair and flashes him a mischievous grin, and when a sympathetic Peggy reaches out to encouragingly pat Steve's arm.

"It should be you, Steve," she tells him. "You are a hero. You would be a perfect dance partner for anyone you desired."

"And you always know just what to say, Peg," Steve mumbles, offering a faint but heartfelt smile.

Peggy's lips quirk.

The young woman takes another swallow of her beer bottle, seeming to gather the courage to leave her bar-stool. James straightens his coat, turning around, opening his mouth to greet her, but she moves right past him. Peggy blinks, confounded.

"What does a girl gotta do to have a dance 'round here?"

She holds out a hand.

Peggy stares between her and the young woman's hand as if uncertain.

Oh…

There's an excitable whisper from Howard to James who whispers back, and Peggy misses it. Everything feels like she's been caught under a glaringly bright spotlight, and Peggy has forgotten all of her lines for a once-in-a-lifetime performance.

"You picked the right partner," Steve declares, chuckling and nudging Peggy's back until she stands.

Peggy shoots him a wide-eyed 'wait!' look, gripping onto the young woman's hand.

She's tugged onto the dance floor.

Peggy's heart races.

The young woman has a lovely, slim shape with her crimson dress nipped-in, the shoulders padded and the hem knee-length. Her fingernail polish a shade lighter than the dark, regal crimson. Her face powder shimmers. Her skin creamy.

"My name's Angie," the young woman says, beaming. "Angie Martinelli. How about you?"

Peggy stares down on her, her neck craned. Gosh, how can her heart be racing any faster?

"Carter," she breathes, nearly squeaking it out. Peggy clears her throat awkwardly. "I mean, yes—my name is Peggy Carter."

Angie doesn't seem to notice, letting go of Peggy's wrist.

"You any good at dancin'?" Angie blurts out.

Peggy ducks her head a little, hunching in her massive shoulders as a giggling couple darts by. It's two men in uniform, hand-in-hand, but with no revealing badges. So suddenly, Peggy realizes she towers over Angie and everybody else in the pub. "I had been once, I suppose," Peggy admits, her cheeks reddening under her rouge. "Now I am not so sure about my dancing."

"Aw, c'mon—you're tellin' me all of those finishing school lessons were for nothin', English?"

Angie's grin lengthens, and Peggy finds herself tutting and smiling and laughing nervously over the cheekiness.

"Very funny."

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How long has it been?

How long since Peggy let herself enjoy time with someone else? When it had nothing to do with her covert missions or the Strategic Scientific Reserve? She loved the friends Peggy made along the way into Project Rebirth, but that's all they are.

Friends.

"Golly!" Angie yells, spinning out of Peggy's hands and clapping her hands. The music is loud, and the other dancers louder, and Peggy feels dizzy like there's whisky itself running in her veins. "Here you were tryin' to fool me this whole time, English!" Angie points to her own pale blue eyes with two fingers. "These peepers can tell you were no dead hoofer! That's for sure!"

Peggy's expression brightens.

"I'm delighted you think so!" she yells back.

Angie's hands return to Peggy's, clasping onto her. "I wasn't gonna say nothin'… but, aw, to hell with it," Angie babbles. Peggy frowns, her nervousness returning as if never had gone at all. "Tell me… is this Captain Carter I keep hearin' about you?"

Captain Carter…

The title earned by Peggy to inspire hope and change…

But… why with Angie…

Why does it feel like Peggy and Captain Carter are different people here?

"If I could answer that, I would," Peggy says seriously.

She's half-considering pulling out of Angie's hands, but the other woman tightens their hands and doesn't miss a beat on her enthusiasm.

"Honey, you got moxie," Angie says, and the pleasant lithe in her voice makes Peggy's nerves calm. "Captain Carter faces some of the most powerful men in the world, and she wins. She's an inspiration to us gals. She's a hero, right?"

"Is that why you wanted to speak with me?" Peggy mutters, forlorn. "Was it to speak to someone famous?"

Angie doesn't seem to take offense with the insinuation, but she does wrinkle her nose. Her pale blue eyes wander to Peggy's friends, and Peggy looks with her. Howard cheerfully slings his arms around Steve and Bucky's necks, singing along with a tune.

"One of 'em was gonna ask you to dance, I reckoned," a self-satisfied Angie says, "but I wanted to be the one to ask you first."

Relief floods her.

"Forgive me," Peggy says, groaning. "I should haven't said what I did. You're—Angie, you're a wonderful person."

"It's hard to trust people. Believe me, I get that." Angie furrows her brow, comically pouting. "Last week, I let a fella hailin' from Manchester share a taxi ride, and the son of a bitch closed the door on me and had the taxi drive off! Unbelievable!"

Peggy reins in a laughing smile. "What an arsehole," she agrees.

"That's what I said!"

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Angie isn't from London, as evident by her strongly American accent, but she tosses up her arm grandly and sings along with the piano player nearby. Despite not knowing the words to "Scarborough Fair" or likely pronouncing them right.

Peggy's cheek feels irresistibly warm where Angie's own cheek pressed to her.

They swung themselves around each other, grinning and giggling, with Peggy slowly dipping Angie in the cradle of her arms.

How about you and me get outta here, English?

Angie lifts an eyebrow.

I have been dying to use some moves I know you'll like.

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Peggy wasn't aware of there being an upstairs floor above the pub.

She's shushed by Angie sneaking and leading them, right into a little cramped space of a room, flattening herself insistently against Peggy's uniformed breasts as soon as the door rattles shut with a lock. Angie's hands impishly roam her.

There's beetroot juice staining Angie's lips.

Peggy licks over her mouth, tasting it, tasting Angie and her powdery skin when kissing her all over.

Angie's face feels sweaty-warm against Peggy's bare hands. The hint of petroleum jelly on her eyebrows. The silky, smudgy feeling of Angie's eyeshadow glinting gold on Peggy's fingertips. The smoothness of her lotioned neck.

Peggy feels drunk on the sensation of skin to skin, grinding herself between Angie's pale thighs, clumsily touching her. They've abandoned their clothing, unhooking brassieres and elastic-made girdles, muffling their laughter into each other's undone hair.

Angie feels small compared to her, wispy and delicate, and Peggy treats her gently. Perhaps too gently.

She lets a flushed-face Angie squirm between Peggy's long, powerfully muscular legs, whispering Peggy's name, stroking her with both of her thumbs and opening Peggy's thighs further open. Without her knickers on, she feels every twitch of Angie's clever fingers.

Peggy encourages her to crawl on top of her, watching the glint of interest spark deep in Angie's stare.

"You gettin' fresh with me, English?"

Arousal courses in her, throbbing Peggy's already sensitive cunt, dripping from the orgasm.

She has never been this wet with a woman…

Peggy smiles secretly, rubbing her palms over Angie's hips and urging her in. She craves the stifling heat. Angie is lightweight and feels incredible like this. "Fresh as a springtime daisy," Peggy breathes, smiling wider when Angie's flush darkens.

"Hmm," Angie muses, gazing skeptically to Peggy's face. "Don't say I didn't warn ya—it ain't very daisy-smellin' down there."

As a response, Peggy sets a lightly biting kiss on Angie's inner thigh. A moaning laugh escapes.

"You're wonderful."

There's more of Angie to explore.

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"Peggy!" Steve exclaims, raising a hand high and signaling her as the pub empties out. "Hey! We were looking for you all night!"

Howard climbs back into the Jeep, looking over Peggy's half-buttoned blouse and her messy, brown curls.

"Looks like our famous Captain had a good time, aye?" he declares, wagging his eyebrows.

"Oh, stop it," Peggy scolds, but smiles.

She does hope Angie did, too. She hopes Angie remembers her.

No matter what happens.

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