It had taken a while – three months to be precise – but Peggy Carter had finally surrendered herself to the inescapable truth: she was in love with Angie Martinelli.

The sassy, spirited waitress had reached out to Peggy from seemingly nowhere, her warm, caring nature touching a part of Peggy that had long been dormant. Without her even realizing it, Angie had slowly and quietly worked her way into Peggy's life and, more importantly, Peggy's heart. It had taken a lot of blunt honesty with herself to admit the obvious, but once she had done so, Peggy was surprised by how natural it felt to acknowledge Angie's place in her life.

Now all she had to do was tell her.

Peggy, ever detailed, had planned out the entire evening. A lovely dinner at home for just the two of them, courtesy of Mr. Jarvis. Drinks in the living area accompanied by soft jazz from the Victrola. Then, when they were both nestled on the couch, cozy and content, Peggy would tell Angie how she felt. Or perhaps, she'd simply show her.

But as it often went with the best-laid plans of mice and men, the evening hadn't quite followed the script. Now Peggy's perfect plan was currently in disarray, and Peggy found herself growing frustrated with the object of her affections. Angie, for her part, looked equally exasperated and more than a bit uncomfortable.

"Is there a reason you keep shrinking away from me as if I had the plague?" Peggy asked, somewhat crossly. She'd spent the better part of an hour working up the nerve to finally kiss Angie and show her how she felt. However, the minute Peggy had leaned over and brushed her lips across Angie's cheek, Angie had flinched and immediately pulled away.

"I'm sorry," Angie mumbled.

Peggy frowned. "I thought this is what you wanted," she said. "After everything we've discussed, the signals..." She trailed off searchingly.

"It is," Angie assured her. "I mean, it is sorta. I like being with you, Peggy. I like seeing you, hearing your voice, even sitting next to you on the couch while you read a report. But I'm not so sure on the..."

Peggy cocked a questioning eyebrow. "On the what?"

Angie blushed and looked at her hands. "The other stuff."

"The other stuff," Peggy repeated blankly, but then her eyes grew wide. "Ohhhhh," she breathed in understanding. She gave Angie a questioning look. "Are you saying you're nervous about the... ah... physical side of things?"

"Not exactly."

Peggy frowned. "Not exactly?"

"It's not that I'm afraid of the physical stuff," she explained. "I just don't necessarily… want it."

"You don't want it," Peggy repeated.

"Right."

Peggy bit her lower lip and squinted her eyes in thought. "Let me see if I understand this. You're attracted to me."

"Well yeah."

"You want to live with me."

"Obviously," Angie grinned.

"But you don't want me."

Angie winced. "That's not what I said."

Peggy shook her head. "You did say that."

"No," Angie stressed. "I said I don't want the physical things. That doesn't mean I don't want you."

Peggy pinched the bridge of her nose and looked toward the ceiling as if in search of answers. When she finally spoke, her tone was cautious and curious.

"How does that," she began but stopped, suddenly quite unsure how to phrase her question.

"How does it work?" Angie supplied, filling in Peggy's unasked question.

Peggy only nodded.

"Well," Angie began, "I still care a whole lot for you, and I want to talk to you and hear you talk to me. I love your voice, in case you didn't know." She shifted on the couch and looked at Peggy with questioning eyes. "I just don't necessarily want anything else."

"No intimacy?" Peggy clarified.

"No sexual intimacy," Angie corrected with a nervous smile. "Hugs, holding hands, those things I like."

"What about kisses?"

"Sure, sometimes they're okay," Angie said. "But, they don't really do anything for me," she admitted. "Meanwhile, they're not bad, and if you like 'em, I don't mind 'em from time to time."

Peggy leaned back and studied Angie. "That's awfully kind, Angie, but I would never want to ask you to do something with which you're uncomfortable. Hugs, holding hands, those are things I also like."

Angie shook her head affectionately. "English, kisses are fine. They don't make me uncomfortable. They just don't do anything for me. But if they do something for you, I want to kiss you."

Peggy nodded. "What precisely do you mean it doesn't do something for you?"

"Well," Angie said, "I don't know exactly how to explain it. Maybe think of it as an oven. You turn the knob, you can smell the gas flowing, but it doesn't ignite. It's working. There's just no heat. No fire."

Peggy leaned forward. "So, what you're saying is that even though you're getting the tactile triggers, there's no internal reaction."

Angie grinned. "Using those big words on me again, English. But yeah. I know what I'm supposed to feel. I just… don't." Her eyes dropped, and her laughter died off. "It's a bit frustrating, actually. I want to feel it."

Peggy placed a cautious hand over Angie's and gave it a slight squeeze. "I can't imagine how a disconnect like that must feel."

"Broken."

Peggy furrowed her brow. "Pardon?"

Angie sighed. "It makes me feel broken."

"You're not broken," Peggy instantly corrected. "You're simply wired differently than me."

"Which is a nice way of saying broken."

Peggy shook her head. "Not at all. We merely differ in how we process outside stimuli." She smiled at Angie and nudged her hip. "Think of it this way. You can be in someone's presence for less than a minute and instantly know how they're feeling. You've done it with me hundreds of times."

Angie shrugged. "I'm a people person."

"And yet, I often miss the most obvious clues when it comes to someone showing interest in me." She gave Angie a pointed stare.

"That's because you're an emotional blockhead," Angie chuckled.

"Exactly. You process emotional intimacy far better than I do, and I happen to process physical intimacy better than you. It doesn't make either of us broken," Peggy explained. "It merely makes us different."

She watched as Angie silently processed her words, and relief slowly flooded through her when a genuine smile tugged at the corner of Angie's mouth.

"I'd never thought of it that way."

"Me either," Peggy confessed. She took Angie's hand in hers and laced their fingers together. "It took me several months to work up the courage to tell you how much I love you, Angie Martinelli. I don't plan on letting something as small as this keep us from finding happiness."

Angie exhaled a long sigh and nestled closer to Peggy. "I gotta' be honest, Pegs. I was sure as soon as I told you I didn't want to be intimate, you'd be out the door faster than I could blink."

"Do you really think so little of me to believe I'd ever do something like that?"

Angie shook her head. "I've had it happen before."

"Well, it won't happen again," Peggy vowed, and she meant it. She'd be damned if Angie ever doubted her love for her or doubted her own abilities to properly love Peggy back.

She leaned down and pressed an affectionate kiss to Angie's head. "Is this okay?"

"Mmmhmm," Angie murmured. "I promise I'll tell you if anything ever makes me uncomfortable."

"You be sure and do that," Peggy agreed. She was silent for a moment before speaking again, and when she did, her tone was quieter than before. "What can I do to ensure you know how much I love you? What can I do to touch your heart?"

Peggy felt Angie smile into her shoulder. "You're already doing it, silly."

"I am?"

Angie nodded.

"How?"

"Your words."

Peggy blinked. "My words?"

"Yeah," Angie sighed. "When you tell me you love me… when you tell me I matter… that you believe in me… those are the things that touch my heart and my head."

Peggy glanced down at the mess of brown curls against her shoulder. "You process love emotionally and intellectually," she breathed in understanding.

"Maybe?" Angie shrugged.

Draping an arm around Angie's shoulder, Peggy pulled her closer and slowly ran her fingers through her curls. "Maybe. We'll learn it together. We have plenty of time."

"If you keep that up, I'm gonna fall asleep," Angie warned around a yawn.

Peggy chuckled. "Then sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

It was silent for a few moments, and then Peggy heard the soft snuffling that meant Angie had fallen asleep. Slowing her movements, Peggy shifted to allow Angie to rest more comfortably before gazing down at her sleeping form.

They'd taken a big step this evening. Although it was nothing like what Peggy had planned, she found herself immeasurably happy with the direction their night had taken. She wasn't naive enough to think navigating a relationship would be easy, but it wouldn't have been easy before Angie's revelation, either.

The only thing that had really changed was Peggy realizing she would need to learn new ways to express her love for Angie that Angie would understand.

Glancing back down at the woman nestled in her arms, Peggy smiled in satisfaction.

She couldn't wait to get a start on Operation Loving Angie.