A/N: An alternate scene (or idea of a scene, if you'd prefer) for "A Sin to Err", starring the brave and bold Angie Martinelli and the supportive and secretive Dottie Underwood. *grins* (Posting it here because the original plan was for a proper fic that involved Jarvis, Angie, and Dottie as bumbling spies - until, of course, Dottie showed her true colors - with a healthy dose of Cartinelli. At least there's still a smidgen of a hint of Cartinelli anyway, even if the original motivation has waned.)

It's Dottie who follows Angie inside, into the lobby powder room, the one Angie makes a beeline for because not many women use it and she really needs a private enough, quick place to pretend like she isn't about to cry. It's a little surprising - she and the Iowan don't spend as much together as Angie does with Peggy, or even Peggy does with Dottie, but maybe Dottie's more observant than Angie ever gave her credit for.

"You okay, Angie?"

Dropping her hand holding the bunch of toilet paper she'd immediately nicked to soak up the wetness in her eyes before her makeup ran, Angie manages to give the blonde a brave smile. "It's just, it's all a shock."

Dottie smiles in commiseration, moving closer. "You an' Peggy were awfully close, weren't you." She squeezes Angie's shoulder in a familiar way, ending it by gently patting Angie's arm as she takes her hand back. "It's understandable you'd be out of sorts."

"Yeah," Angie nods, sniffling, bothering to allow her walls down enough to dab at her eyes in front of the other woman. They were close. "I don't know what's going on, and that's what worries me the most."

Dottie tilts her head, eyes widening in curiosity. "Is there any way to find out?"

Angie thinks about the sharply dressed gentleman who would often meet with Peggy and, if the phone call she'd gotten from her coworker Darlene after she'd rung up her brother was to be believed, helped her fight off the mob of agents who had tried to jump them earlier that afternoon. Mr. Fancy. No. A...

"Mr. Jarvis," Angie says out loud, looking triumphant, and Dottie smiles hesitantly at her. "Mr. Jarvis?"

Already standing straighter, the toilet paper crumpled in her hand, Angie smiles determinedly. "Yes! Mr. Jarvis. I'm sure he would know what's going on. Or - or even where to start!" Jumping forward, sweeping Dottie's hands in hers, she ignores the look of discomfort that flashes across the Iowan's face due to trapping the used paper between their palms, and starts chattering fervently, eyes darting everywhere, "You'll be with me, won't you, Dottie? It's always better havin' someone to bounce ideas off of. And she's your friend, too - we owe it to her!"

A slow, long smile appears on Dottie's face as her shoulders square, and she gives Angie a strong, eager nod of her head. "Right! As her friends, we owe it to her."

"That'a girl, Dottie!" Angie gives the tall woman a quick, wide smile as she pulls her after her, out of the powder room, already moving her attention away and forward, her remaining words practically spitting out as energy explodes through her, "Knew you were one of the good ones!"