She noticed the flowers first, and Peggy's heart sank.

Stephanotis, lots of them, probably bought from the shop on the corner for a lot more money than Angie should be spending on her right now. Sprawled as they were all over the living room, it wasn't lost on Peggy that they were used primarily for weddings. She set her purse down on the couch with a sigh, and made her way into the kitchen.

It was so small that Angie was in her arms in just a few steps; Peggy pulled her close as the young woman stood at the stove, and breathed in the scents of home.

"How was the phone company, English?"

Peggy smiled a little at the mocking note in Angie's voice, and kissed her cheek. "Mm. What's all this then?"

"Dinner," Angie pointed out as if it was the most logical thing in the world – which it was, really, after four months of doing it, whatever it was.

Domesticity was not one of Peggy's finer skills. No, her skills were knowing what would happen when a fork met an artery, when the gun in her purse on the couch met a heart or a temple, knowing how to cover up a bruise with makeup after a fight.

But this? Coming home after a "rough day at the office" to find Angie in a simple dress with an apron tied around her waist, meat and potatoes simmering on the stove, her girlfriend's face shimmering pink with summer heat and anticipation?

This was so not what Peggy would have ever signed on for.

For a minute, Peggy missed Steve. He'd know how to deal with this. Give his mind a second to wrap around the "two… girls?" thing, and he'd be telling her in that matter-of-fact tone to stop being so worried. The world was round, God was good, and love was love, and if Angie was Peggy's best girl, well, then that was okay.

She'd have left out some of the other… ideas about their relationship. Captain America may have seen some things, but Peggy liked to think he'd have stayed innocent.

"You're a better cook than waitress, Angie Martinelli," Peggy said, kissing the crook of her neck gently.

Softening the blow.

"Hey, my waitressing is pretty good. Something about me kept you coming back every day."

"Your legs."

Angie huffed, and Peggy squeezed her tighter.

"Will the food keep until lunch tomorrow?"

The telltale stiffening of Angie's body was enough to send tension shooting into Peggy's own. In one swift move, Angie had turned off all of the burners. The heat in the room gave way to a bitter cold that was becoming all too familiar to Peggy.

This hadn't been the first time. Nor was it likely to be the last.

"It'll keep. Guess you have to work."

"Yes."

"With Howard."

"With Howard." It was always with Howard. Or Edwin. Or some other man pulling her away from the tiny little place they shared together.

Trading dinner and cuddles and sighs for weapons. Rainy nights and cries of pain for intel.

"Angie, I—"

"I don't want to hear it, Peg."

Peggy quirked an eyebrow, feeling herself bristle in her smart suit coat, her hair perfectly coiffed and falling in curls over her shoulders.

Even Angie seemed aware of the dangerous waltz she was dancing; her eyes were downcast even as the set of her mouth was defiant.

"There's nothing for you to hear, I have to work tonight. There is a threat, and I… have to unthreaten it."

Peggy rolled her eyes at herself. Really, after all this time, after all that Angie knew after Peggy had first gotten captured by SSR… she was still trying to protect her from the truth.

Angie tore off her apron and wrestled herself out of Peggy's arms; Peggy let her go, watching as her girlfriend didn't look at her while she threw the apron on to the small table.

"You have to work tonight. With Howard. Again."

"I don't expect you to understand the gravity of the situation."

And now Angie was looking at her – no, glaring – and there were unshed tears in those angry grey eyes.

"The gravity of the situation is I have been tryin' to have a special dinner with you for the last three weeks. But you have to work. With Howard. To save us all from the big bad. Again. I get it, trust me."

Peggy closed her eyes, torn between her growing irritation and her own guilt. Four months they'd been together, four months of Angie being nothing but perfect for her. She could be so understanding, with hugs and kisses and she even got Peggy's feelings for Steve. That was a godsend, but by far not the only reason why Peggy had let her heart fall for someone else. No, Angie was just as capable of sass as she was sniffling for forgiveness, as beautiful in a waitress' uniform as she was in a nearly sheer dress for a night on the town. Her hands were nimble in all the right places, and her voice. A voice made for the radio or the stage, a voice made to offer its supplication directly into Peggy's ear. She should be standing in the spotlight but Peggy wanted Angie down on her knees, and nothing Peggy Carter had been through just yet, no jaunts with Howard Stark or missions with the Howling Commandos could compare to the crazy, terrifying ride that was life with Angie Martinelli.

The sad thing was, Angie really did understand the gravity of the situation when it came to Peggy Carter. She understood guns in purses, secret hideaways in walls, coils of rope under dressers. (She actually liked that last one.) She realized there would be cold dinners, nights alone. Her girlfriend stumbling into their room with bruises or worse, the uncertainty of… just not knowing.

But this, Peggy supposed, this was the last straw.

"It'll keep," Angie said bitterly, already beginning to pack thing up with her back to Peggy.

"Go do what you have to do."

"Angie—"

"I said I don't want to hear it!"

Peggy's fists clenched. Angie also knew when she was treading on thin ice, and Peggy was about to crack.

"Well, no, actually." There was a grin on Angie's face, almost snide. "I actually do want to hear one thing."

"And what's that?" Peggy had one hand on her hip.

"How long you leaving me for this time, Margaret?"

Her hands were behind her back before Angie even had time to react; Peggy held her girlfriend's wrists securely in her own as she lightly pressed Angie into the counter.

"We have a line, do we not, pet?"

Her voice was smooth as velvet, gentle.

Angie swallowed. "We do, yeah."

"'We do, yeah,'" Peggy mimicked, but there was no malice in her tone at all. Instead, she just felt sad, and worried.

"And you just crossed it."

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Peggy let go of Angie's wrists, almost unconsciously smoothing them with her fingers. "We'll talk about this when I get home," she said. Starting to move away she thought better of it and came back, lightly pressing her lips to Angie's.

"And I will get home. Soon."

As she left Peggy had to wonder if she had just made a threat or a promise.

In her line of work, it was probably both.

It was a simple place, really, or at least that's what Edwin had said. Nothing more than what could be termed a cabin, on the outskirts of town and not equipped anything with except a bed, a bathroom, a small kitchen. And, after Peggy had visited it once for a few hours, more than enough things to make the next two days interesting.

The important thing, she thought, as she took Angie's trembling hand in hers and led her inside, was that she wouldn't be bothered.

"The whole weekend?"

It was night now, the deep black of nine a day after she'd promised Angie she'd make it home. She'd been a little worse for wear, but she'd promised.

Angie's nervousness was palpable, and Peggy loved her all the more for it. Her girl was beautiful, with her light brown hair pulled up in curls and her free hand fisted slightly in her pale green dress. Peggy shut the door behind them, watching as Angie's eyes found the far wall. Silk ropes dangled from two silver hooks, one positioned high, the other lower, nearer to the ground.

"The whole weekend."

"And… ain't nothing going to bother us?"

Peggy chuckled and moved to stand in front of Angie, cutting off the younger woman's view. "Nothing is going to bother us. We have the whole weekend to ourselves, love. No situations, no threats, no Edwin or Howard. Just the two of us."

Her chuckle turned into a full-on laugh when Angie buried her head in Peggy's chest, arms snaking around to hug her tightly. Her voice was muffled, but breathless.

"Thank you."

Peggy kissed the top of her head and hummed in response.

"… but I'm gonna get it now, right?"

Peggy cocked her head in agreement. "Yes, indeed, pet."

Angie took in her breath, then, a slow, calculated movement that Peggy knew well; her fingers lightly brushed Angie's hair while she held her, until Peggy's girlfriend pulled away.

Her eyes were clear. Apprehensive, but unafraid.

"All right. Whenever you're ready."

"Now, then," Peggy decided. "I don't want the specter of this hanging over us all weekend when we can just relax and enjoy each other."

"Well… this might be enjoyable? Slightly?"

Peggy snorted. "Cheeky brat." She kissed Angie's forehead before pushing her away, standing up straighter.

"Go to the restroom, and when you come back I don't want to see a stitch of clothing on you."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Angie."

She turned, already halfway to the bathroom. "Yeah, Peg?"

Peggy shook her head. "Yes, Agent."

Angie's lips curled into a bit of a smirk, and Peggy had the maddening thought that she was the mouse in this game, instead of the other way around.

"Yes, Agent."

It didn't take her long to lay out everything she needed. She'd just finished placing a glass of water on the table next to the far wall when she heard the quiet shuffle behind her, and Peggy turned to see her naked girlfriend stood in the center of the room, waiting for her with her head down.

If there was anything in the world that could leave Peggy Carter speechless, it was Angie.

Her body was smooth and strong, with Italian curves in all the places that would've made an artist beg to paint her. Her skin dimpled in the slight chill and Peggy would've been angry that Jarvis hadn't gotten them a place capable of fire, except for the fact that Angie's nipples stood out in stiff, pink peaks and really, sometimes a fireplace was overrated.

"Come here."

"Yes, Agent."

She'd briefly entertained undressing herself, but Peggy had discovered not long into their relationship that Angie loved the feel of Peggy's clothes against her bare skin. She was only wearing a simple silk blouse and a brown skirt but something had changed in Angie's gaze as it darted over her, and Peggy fought back a grin as she once again folded Angie into her arms.

"You're beautiful, you know."

"I only know 'cause you tell me all the time."

"And I shall continue to do so." She held Angie's face in her hands and kissed her gently, before slipping her arm around Angie's waist and turning them both so that they could look at the table against the wall.

A small circlet of ribbon, next to a leather crop and two clothes-pegs, next to a glass of water.

Peggy felt Angie shudder, and she held her up.

"Are you ready, pet?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

It was an honest answer, and Peggy nodded. "Down then."

The first time Angie had gotten to her knees it had been awkward for both of them. Now, it was effortless, mere seconds before Angie lightly hit the bare wood floor and Peggy's hand came to rest on her shoulder, stroking the bare skin.

She reached to the table and picked up the ribbon, quickly fastening it around Angie's neck. She'd picked it out ages ago, a classy little thing of black satin encircled with silver chain and capped with a silver dangling heart in the middle. She'd been anxious about it, but Angie had loved it so much Peggy had barely been able to walk the next morning.

It was one of their rules that Angie didn't wear the collar all the time; it'd be impossible for her to explain both at work and on auditions. Peggy liked it better anyway. It was their secret, one that she relished the chance to enjoy.

"And now up you go." She reached out a hand to help Angie to her feet. "Back to the wall, please."

"Yes, Agent."

She held Angie to the wall with one palm laid flat against her stomach, not bothering to tie her. Peggy smiled lovingly at her, then shook her head.

"Angie—"

"I know, I'm sor—"

"Hush," she snapped, and Angie immediately quieted, biting on her lower lip.

"I'm sorry," Peggy said, moving to cup Angie's cheek with her other hand. "I'm sorry that our dinner plans keep getting foiled, that I have to be gone so much." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry that I come back hurt, that I so blithely dismiss your concerns, I'm sorry that my lot in life apparently forces me to carry guns and face death on a daily basis."

Angie nodded, hanging her head a little. "Every day I'm scared that you won't come back to me."

Her hands now on either side of Angie, planted against the wall, Peggy nuzzled into Angie's neck. "I will never not work my bloody hardest to come back to you."

She could feel the muscles ripple as her girl smiled. "Very English of you, Agent."

"Indeed." Peggy nipped at her, triumphant when Angie gasped and arched herself.

But no, not yet.

"And Angie." She lifted Angie's chin so that she was looking at Peggy. "I'd much rather spend every moment with you, than Howard, or Edwin, or anyone else. Anyone. Else."

She kissed Angie again. "You're my best girl, Angie Martinelli, and what a fool I'd be if I mucked that up. I love you."

Color flooded Angie's cheeks, and she leaned forward to kiss Peggy. "I love you too, Peg."

Peggy smiled, but then she drew back and glared at Angie, standing at her full height. When she spoke, her voice was cold and even.

"But if you ever speak to me that way again you'll find yourself in exactly the same predicament you are in now. Each time, every time. Is that understood?"

Angie swallowed hard, and nodded. "Understood."

"Right then." Peggy pecked her on the cheek, then stood back more. "Turn around. Take hold of the ropes with your hands." She reached down to pick up the crop.

"I'm not going to tie you yet, but if you move out of position before you're permitted, I will, and this will start over, Angie."

"Yes, Agent," Angie replied, and immediately moved herself into position facing the wall, wrapping the ropes several times around her fingers to hold on.

"Do I wanna know where you got this stuff?"

Peggy smirked, lightly trailing the crop over the line of Angie's back. "No, I doubt very much that you do, because then I'd have to kill you."

"What a way to go."

Peggy rolled her eyes before bringing the crop back, slapping it lightly against Angie's left shoulder. "Quiet, you."

She focused then, ranging her blows across Angie's shoulders while being sure to avoid anything that would damage the girl. Peggy listened carefully at Angie's gasps and whimpers, smiling a little when she heard the sniffles begin. Soon Angie's skin was a mesmerizing shade of pink, and Peggy moved forward to kiss the heated flesh, running her tongue over it while she palmed Angie's stomach and pushed inward.

"Bend over," she ordered in a murmur. "I want to see that pretty little arse of yours."

Angie actually moaned, and the sound made the crop waver in Peggy's hand; she wanted more than anything to throw it across the room and have her way with Angie, right there, right then. But she resisted, watching as Angie maneuvered herself so that she was bent over as best she could while still holding her position with the ropes.

Peggy smiled, an actual, predatory grin that she seemed to always have when faced with Angie in all her glory. It was part of what made them them, in a weird way. The fact that Peggy loved Angie, soul and body, and had a weird desire to make that body wet and writhe with pain and pleasure. And Angie loved nothing more than to give up that power to Peggy, as many times as they wanted. The trust was monumental, which was something, Peggy knew, given that for so long Angie hadn't even known the truth about her.

The first strike cut where Angie's rear end met her thigh; she gasped and arched her back. Peggy aimed the next blow for the exact same spot, on the opposite side, and knew that it'd be difficult for Angie to sit for days without remembering.

"Don't let go," Peggy warned, bringing the crop down again, then twice more. "It starts over if you do."

"Yes, Agent," Angie sniffed, crying out at a particularly hard smack to the fullest part of her bottom. "N-no moving."

"Good girl," Peggy soothed, running her free hand over Angie's back, lightly – and a little perversely – scratching with her nails at the reddened skin of her shoulders. "That's my good little pet."

She whipped Angie in a steady rhythm, crisscrossing her strokes until the woman's skin was a canvas of reddening stripes. She listened closely as Angie's cries gave way to body shuddering sobs, and it made Peggy's heart clench.

Still, she stood back a little, gentling her blows as she gave another order. "Spread your legs, Angie."

Angie was wet, the skin glistening as she moved her legs as far apart as her muscles would allow. Peggy licked her lips; holding the crop carefully, she aimed as she brought it up sharply against Angie's clit.

"Oh my god," Angie choked out.

Oh my god, indeed, Peggy thought, as she replaced the crop with her finger, circling Angie and soaking her hand in the process. Angie groaned and bucked herself against Peggy's movements.

"Ah-ah-ah," Peggy warned, lashing her bottom with the crop again. "No."

She removed her hand and brought the crop between Angie's legs twice more, the last as hard as she dared before Angie was literally a crying mess against the wall, her arms shaking and her knuckles white as she struggled to hold on.

Peggy put the crop down and wrapped an arm around Angie's waist. "Let go, pet," she said quickly, knowing that she'd be able to hold Angie up. "Let go now, I've got you."

In an instant Angie's arms were around her neck, and Peggy smiled, gently kissing one tear-stained cheek. "Good girl," she said again. "All right?"

"It hurts," Angie managed to hitch out.

"Hmm, yes," Peggy tsked. "It's meant to, pet."

The last thing she'd ever want to do was hurt Angie, but, well. Peggy's arms tightened.

"Have you learned that I won't accept such behavior from you in the future?"

"Yes. Yes, a hundred times yes."

Peggy almost laughed. Really, she ought to stop at that point, but where was the fun in that? She shuffled them both backward until Angie was against the wall once more.

"Oh, I don't think you have. Arms up."

"But—"

"Arms. Up. Or do you want to have a go with the crop again?"

"No, no, they're up, they're up," Angie said quickly, raising her arms above her head.

Peggy tied Angie with the ropes, taking care that they weren't too tight, but not loose enough to encourage release. Squatting down she made quick work of tying Angie's feet so that her legs were once again spread wide.

She stood back and surveyed her handiwork. "Well, if that isn't a pretty picture," she mused aloud. "Perhaps I ought to take one, for posterity. Hang it up in our flat as a reminder."

"Don't you dare," Angie bit out, the hooks rattling as she tested her bonds. She really was beautiful, Peggy thought, red-faced and fully chastened.

Well, almost fully-chastened. They'd get to that in a minute.

Peggy picked up the glass of water from the table and held it to Angie's lips.

"Drink, darling." Her pet drank greedily as Peggy stroked her hair with her fingers, making soothing noises and dropping tiny kisses to her bare neck and shoulder.

"Thank you," Angie breathed, swallowing the last of the water, and Peggy caught a few of the droplets with her own lips.

"Before we move on, are you all right?" she asked, looking into Angie's eyes and searching for any sign of disagreement. Or fear.

Instead, all she found was trust as Angie surged against the rope to meet Peggy in another kiss.

"Yes, Agent. I'm just… really sorry."

"Oh, not as sorry as you're going to be," Peggy grinned, emboldened. She cupped Angie's face with her hands.

"You know what to say if you cannot handle what is happening next."

"Yes, Agent."

"And you know there is no shame, no repercussions in saying it."

"Yes, Agent."

"Then your punishment continues."

"Oh, goody."

Really, was there anyone in the history of the universe anyone with a mouth on her like Angie Martinelli? Peggy doubted it. But she knew just how to shut the girl up, as both her hands splayed out on Angie's shoulders and smoothed their way down her breasts.

"Let's get these ready, shall we?"

It was almost instantaneous, the moment Angie became putty against her fingers. Peggy's mouth was at her neck, licking and sucking, as her fingers kneaded and pinched Angie's nipples into ripe submission. Now Angie's moans of pleasure were music to Peggy's ears; she trailed her tongue down the dip between Angie's breasts and took her left nipple into her mouth.

She supposed she was evil, when Peggy reached out and pulled Angie to her by way of one hand securely grasping her arse; Angie hissed in pain and Peggy couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her, even as she continued suckling on her girlfriend. She moved over to the other nipple, determined to give it just as much attention, before she pressed an almost bemused kiss to both of them and pulled away.

Angie's eyes widened when her girlfriend picked up the clothes-pegs from the table. They'd never played with those, though Peggy had threatened and Angie had expressed interest. In one swift motion, Peggy had both her lover's nipples clamped, and Angie cried out in pain.

"Pretty as a picture," Peggy said again, flicking one of them with a finger, relishing in Angie's groan. "A very naughty, well-punished picture, don't you think?"

"Yes," Angie said, her eyes clenched shut and her teeth gritted. "Very w-well-punished, yes, Agent."

"Oh, I don't think so," Peggy said. "Not yet."

She leaned down and kissed Angie, coaxing the girl's mouth open with her tongue. "Such a naughty pet," she breathed, her thumbs stroking Angie's skin just below her clamped nipples.

"You're beautiful like this, Angie. Bound, helpless."

But not powerless.

"I love what you let me do to you."

"And I love letting you do it, Agent."

Peggy couldn't remember how they'd hit upon Angie calling her that during their "play" time; she just knew the reaction it caused every time. Even when she was younger Peggy had always entertained the thought that her "proclivities" were different than other girls'; she just hadn't ever been able to imagine that she'd find someone to share them. Or that they'd be another woman.

But as Peggy's hand wandered down to the slick wetness of Angie's thighs, she couldn't say she minded.

"So what should I do to such a naughty pet?" she asked herself, her thumb running over Angie's clit. "How shall I punish a girl who seems to forget so much that she is mine, who forgets how much I love her, how much I want her?"

"Whatever you want to do, Agent," Angie said, her eyes rolling back in her head. "Whatever you want."

"My, you do know how to charm." She thrust two fingers in without warning, so deep that Angie gave a yelp and the hook above her head rattled.

"Clawing at the wall already? We're just getting started, Angie."

She drew her fingers out slowly, only to push them in again, curling the tips in just the way she knew Angie liked.

"I think," she said, beginning to fuck her in earnest, "That the best way to punish you is to make you scream. What do you think?"

"I- ah! think that won't be too – oh! difficult, Agent…."

"I should hope not." The wet sounds of Angie's need filled the room; Peggy anchored herself with one hand against the wall as she pushed into her, harder and harder.

"Peg—Peggy!"

"Agent," she corrected, flicking one of the clothes-pegs again.

"Agent! Agent, god…."

"Mmhm. That's my good girl. Come for me, Angie, come now."

And that was all it took. That's all it had ever taken, really – an order. Angie came hard against Peggy's fingers; she withdrew her fingers completely only to shove them in again, as deeply as she could, and she knew she could make Angie see stars as the girl keened against her mouth. Peggy let her hand grow slack, kissing Angie's breath back into her.

"God, Agent," Angie murmured, nuzzling against Peggy's cheek. "That was—"

"I didn't tell you to stop," Peggy nearly snarled, and she smirked at Angie's look of shock. "I'm not nearly done making you come for me, little pet."

"I- oh. Oh." She could see the realization wash over Angie like water.

Peggy had threatened this, too, and never followed through with it.

She tweaked one of the clamps against her girlfriend's nipples and stiffened her hand.

"Ride my fingers," she demanded. "And don't you stop until you make yourself come, you little brat, or I'll put you back up against the wall for another session with the crop. Now, Angie."

Angie's hips jerked, and Peggy smiled triumphantly. "There we go," she cooed. "That's my girl."

The first time she'd ever talked to Angie that way, or ordered her to do anything in the bedroom, Peggy had worried she was being cruel. But Angie seemed to want the dirty talk just as much as she wanted the cuddles, and Peggy was always happy to provide, on both accounts. She watched, mesmerized, as Angie moved herself against her girlfriend's fingers, incoherent words tumbling from her lips when Peggy's thumb found her clit again.

As slowly and gently as she could, Peggy reached up and unfastened the clothes-pegs, kissing Angie quickly when she cried out from the rush of blood back to her nipples. She lowered her head and licked them, soothing them, feeling Angie's thighs clench around her hand as best they could as Angie's hips rocked with wild, almost vulgar abandon, and she came again, hard. Her back slammed against the wall once before she went limp, breathing heavily.

But Peggy wasn't ready for mercy, not just yet.

"And again," she said softly, before dropping to her knees. She'd wrapped her lips around Angie's clit before the younger woman even had a chance to react.

"W-what – Peg – Agent – I-"

She'd listen to - and make – Angie come all night if she thought she could; there really wasn't any other sound that was better, Peggy thought. Except for maybe Angie's laughter. This was dangerous territory, she knew; they'd never done this before and might never do it again. Or Angie would say the word that would end it all and Peggy knew she'd feel endlessly guilty. That had happened before, only once. And it had been horrible, even if Angie had understood.

"Again," she whispered onto Angie's skin, and sucked the girl's clit into her mouth as her fingers slipped inside. She worked it mercilessly with her tongue, listening as Angie's moans were no longer those of pleasure but of burgeoning pain, her skin reddened, her nipples swollen and taut, and her body pushed nearly past the brink.

Peggy licked the tip of Angie's clit, rolling her tongue over it in time with her fingers; the hook rattled to the point that for a split second she thought Angie had pulled it from the wall, and Angie screamed through another orgasm.

"Good girl," Peggy murmured, kissing her way up Angie's stomach. "Good girl."

Her fingers kept moving.

"Peggy, I can't—" Angie was sobbing now; Peggy knew her body was sensitive and aching. Her thighs were soaked and so was Peggy's mouth. She could see Angie's clit, stiff and red, and Peggy kissed it gently, stroking her tongue the length of her girlfriend.

"Agent, I can't do this, please!"

"Yes you can," Peggy encouraged her, curling her fingers and stroking her girlfriend just there. "If you don't want to, say the word, sweetheart, I'll stop. Just one more, darling, you need to learn that you're mine. You're mine, Angie Martinelli, I don't want anyone else. Just one more."

She waited, her fingers still moving, her tongue darting out to tease Angie's clit ever-so-slightly. But the word didn't come, and Peggy, heady with the permission and with the scent of Angie surrounding her, growled as she practically attacked. She withdrew her fingers and replaced them with her tongue, deep inside Angie, thumb once again dancing mercilessly over the tightened little bundle of nerves at her girlfriend's center. Angie was sobbing with guttural begging of "Please, oh god, Agent please," even as she was lost inside herself riding her girlfriend's face.

There was no way she could understand this, Peggy thought briefly, and she'd given up trying. How could you explain being a woman, wanting another woman? What's more, wanting that woman tied up, begging you for mercy as you fucked her into oblivion, fucked her so hard that you felt her legs stiffen and then dissolve into jelly, felt the muscles spasm around your tongue and tasted the wetness, the sweetness that was Angie, holding on until the world stopped around you and there was nothing else but her?

There was no explaining it.

Peggy wiped her mouth and stood up, quickly untethering Angie and catching the girl as she collapsed into her arms. There was nothing left hinting at Angie's strength, the sassy attitude of the would-be actress. Instead she seemed so small, nearly destroyed if Peggy didn't know better, her arms around Peggy's neck as she carried her to the large claw foot tub in the bathroom.

"My pet," Peggy murmured against Angie's hair, sticky with sweat against her forehead. She knelt down with Angie somehow balanced against her knees, and started the warm water rushing into the tub. Angie's face was tear-stained and Peggy kissed her cheeks, some of her own tears dripping.

"My Angie," she said, brushing her lips with a kiss. "Are you still with me, darling?"

There was silence. Peggy started to worry, searching Angie's face.

"No. M'dead. You killed me, English."

Peggy laughed out loud with relief. "Really, are you all right?"

The tub full, Peggy stood up and eased Angie into it, resting a towel underneath her head.

Angie didn't open her eyes as she yawned, but she reached out with her hand, searching. Peggy took it, and squeezed.

"I'm just fine. More than fine. Sore as hell. But perfect."

"Good, I thought—"

"Stop thinking. You do that too much and it gives me a headache."

"I'll take care of you," Peggy said, seizing up a cup near the tub and wetting Angie's hair.

Angie sighed contentedly. "I'll take care of you, too, Agent."

Peggy kissed the top of Angie's head and set about bathing her, the two of them falling into the familiar quiet that usually happened after they "played." Every inch of Angie's skin was washed and soothed with the gentlest of touches; Peggy lathered up her girlfriend's hair and rinsed it, lightly scratching at the scalp until she was pretty sure that Angie had fallen asleep in her hands.

This was the part Peggy loved the most. Having Angie at her mercy was hot, that much was true. But having Angie relaxed and happy, so trusting in Peggy's care? That was even better. The bathing done, Peggy leaned her chin against her arm at the top of the tub and looked lovingly down at her sleeping girlfriend, her other hand splayed over the girl's stomach.

But then Angie shifted and smiled up at her with sparkling grey eyes. "You're out there and I'm in here," she pointed out.

"This is true," Peggy grinned, knowing what Angie was wanting.

"And you have clothes on."

"So I do."

"I mean you're damn gorgeous in that skirt, Peg, but…" Angie's lower lip stuck out in a pout, and Peggy was already on her feet and removing her blouse.

"I want a cuddle."

"Well, a cuddle you want, a cuddle you shall have," Peggy said softly, and slipped into the water with her girlfriend.

"I quite like this tub, I'll have to give Edwin my thanks." Peggy settled against the back with a quiet moan, opening her legs to allow Angie to sit close to her.

Angie made a face and pushed up into Peggy's arms, kissing her chin. "Let's not, I don't want him getting any ideas."

"No ideas," Peggy agreed, stroking her fingers over Angie's back. She leaned down and brushed their lips together.

"And you're sure you're quite all right?"

Angie rolled her eyes. "Relax, I'm fine. In fact…" She gave Peggy one of those smirks that made her heart skip, and she gasped when she felt her girlfriend's hand skitter over her flesh under the water.

"Angie, you don't—" The protest ended in a moan when two deft fingers touched her clit, and Angie shushed her with a kiss.

"Let me?" she asked, now with an uncertain look. "I just want to show you I love you."

"Well, I know that, pet," Peggy said, kissing her deeply as her legs opened wider. "But I'll certainly not refuse the gift."

Minutes later Peggy held Angie close as she came down from her own high, Angie's hand curled tightly around Peggy's. "We're going to be two old prunes if we don't get out of this tub soon," Peggy joked, feeling her heartbeat return slightly to normal.

"I wouldn't care," Angie declared. "Besides, you're older." She stuck her tongue out and Peggy laughed.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked.

"For the rest of the weekend, whatever you want, Peg."

Peggy grinned, thinking of the bag of "supplies" she'd left on the bed. She closed her eyes and relaxed against the tub.

Whatever she wanted.