A/N: I sent this ask on tumblr: Angie's the type of girl that, if she likes someone she's waiting on, she'll continuously, unobtrusively, add special things to their order. An extra dollop of cream, an extra pickle, the best piece out of the pie... Then, as time passes and her efforts aren't rebuffed, she becomes more overt. Like bringing that person a free pie slice altogether, or giving them real eggs instead of powdered. She's a master at low-key flirting; slow and steady, she knows, wins the race. Just ask her about Peggy.

VintageCartinelli responded with: When they move in together, Angie probably bakes Peggy entire cakes and the idiot still doesn't catch on.

So.

"Oh, that smells lovely," Peggy sniffed, smiling as she walked into the kitchen. Watching Angie pull another cake, piping hot, out of the oven, she pressed herself comfortably against the counter behind her, crossing her arms loosely, "What is it this time?"

Angie glanced at her. Depositing the cake pan onto the cooling rack, she exhaled, jerked her head to push a free bang off of her forehead, and chucked her oven mittens to the side before answering: "Upside-down pineapple." Once her hands were free, she manually moved the still rebelling curl off of her forehead, tucking it behind her ear, "You interested?"

A soft laugh left Peggy's mouth before she could stop it. "I'd think," she responded, straightening, walking over to join Angie looking down at the cooling confection, "My expanding waistline would be answer enough!"

"Oh you!" Lightly whapping Peggy's shoulder with the damp dish towel she was using to clean her still lightly cake-flour dusted hands, Angie tsked and shook her finger at her, "Like that's a problem for you, English. One day of your 'exercises' and poof! Weight gone. You aware a girl can be mighty jealous of that, right?"

Smiling broadly, Peggy gently bumped their shoulders together. "I'll concede it's somewhat easy for me, Angie. Simple truth is, I can't stay still!

"However," she continued, shaking her head while still smiling, gazing at Angie as she changed the subject, "That's immaterial. What's the occasion for today?"

Angie raised an eyebrow. "There has to be a reason?"

"There doesn't?"

In response, the younger woman frowned, the corners of her lips lifting, falling, then lifting again. "After all this time?" she hedged, laughing, "As if I need a reason to bake - yet again - another cake." Her voice lightened. "Haven't you learned that yet, Pegs?"

Peggy studied her. "I guess I should have." Leaning in to take another deep sniff of the cake, she grinned at her friend; pressing a quick, strong flash of her fingers against the other brunette's arm, she stepped backward, tilting her head in leave. "Find me when it's ready to be eaten?"

Angie's expression faulted, but she nodded, softening, almost sighing in conciliation as a small smile played on her lips. "Yeah, Pegs." Her smile became more sincere. "Of course."

Smiling again, and itching to change - when would the local goonies learn blood and gunpowder weren't her perfume of choice? she wondered, pulling at the collar of her blouse - Peggy ducked out of the kitchen.

Only, as she walked away, she couldn't miss a deep sigh. "Attempt twenty-three...?" Angie's voice roughened and dropped, practically more of a mutter than anything else as she continued, sounding low and let-down, "No luck."

Peggy paused with her hand on the staircase banister. Attempt number twenty-three?

Attempt number twenty-three of what?