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It has been a long, exhausting day. Angie had woken up at the crack of dawn, took two trains for an eight a.m. audition uptown. The casting director liked her enough to let her finish her song. Said the part was her’s, if only she’d do one little thing for him. She left without a word of reply. Just snatched up her bag, turned on her heels and left. That happened more often than she’d like to admit. She knew she had talent, but she refused to compromise her integrity for a role, no matter how big. It still hurt when she was denied a role she knew she’d be perfect for, that she nailed the audition for, only because she refused to sleep with the director or producer. She learned to cope with it. Stuck by her principles.
You got talent, it’s only a matter of time before Broadway calls.
Add to that, she worked the closing shift at the L&L diner. Eight hours on her feet serving asshole patrons. Today was a particularly awful one. She’d barely made forty bucks in tips, nearly every table she served was filled with rude, antagonizing customers, three different douchebags smacked her ass, and the new waitress managed to spill an almost scalding pot of coffee down her top.
To say her day was bad would be an understatement.
All she wants now is to take a nice hot shower, crawl into bed and sleep for as long as her alarm will allow.
Pushing through the doors of her apartment building, she curses under her breath at the ‘out of order’ sign posted on the elevator.
Damn things busted more often than not these days, she silently seethes. She hikes her bag higher up on her shoulder as she makes her way to the staircase.
“At least I’m only on the third floor,” she says aloud as she starts climbing the stairs of the twelve story building.
The short three flight ascent takes longer than it would have had she been fully alert, but she makes it to her floor without hassle. She slips her key into the lock of apartment 3C, turning the knob and pushing inside. Able to navigate this apartment blind after so many years living here, she doesn’t bother turning on any lights. She drops her bag just out of the way of the door and slips out of her black and white Converse sneakers. Tossing her keys on the table by the door, she absentmindedly notices a second set of keys there, but is too tired to pay them any mind. She goes to the kitchen, retrieving the pitcher of filtered water from her fridge, she pours herself a cold glass of water. She then grabs a couple of aspirin from the cabinet above the sink, tossing them back with a large gulp of water as she walks towards her bedroom.
She’s got her white blouse halfway unbuttoned as her fatigued mind registers a body lying in her bed.
“Shit,” she curses pulling her top closed. She quickly turns the bedroom light on and is relieved at whom she finds in the bed.
Her best friend, and neighbor, Peggy Carter sleeping soundly tucked under Angie’s blankets. Chuckling lightly, she kneels down by the side of the bed. She reaches a hand out, gently shaking her friend’s shoulder.
“English,” she prods softly. Angie laughs as Peggy mumbles something incoherent and burrows deeper into Angie’s pillows.
“Peggy,” Angie says louder this time, shaking Peggy’s shoulder a little more insistently.
“Angie?” Peggy mumbles cracking an eye open. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Angie replies playfully. The warmth she feels in her chest at the sight of the woman she’s repeatedly told herself she is not falling in love with looking so comfortable, so at home, in her bed…it’s pleasant to say the least.
“What does it look like, Angie?” Peggy says as she closes her eyes once again. “I’m sleeping.”
“Did you bother taking a look around, English?”
Angie raises her eyebrows challengingly as Peggy slowly peels her eyes open. She can’t hold back the grin as Peggy’s surroundings register, the surprise and embarrassment in her friend’s eyes almost too much.
“Oh god, Angie,” Peggy murmurs as she rolls away from Angie onto her back. “I was so exhausted when I got home. I must have let myself into your apartment by mistake. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Angie soothes rising back to her full height. She takes her cell phone out of her back jeans pocket, dropping it on the nightstand as she steps away from the bed.
“I guess this is what I get for giving you a key.”
She finishes undoing the buttons on her blouse, then pulls the elastic holding her hair up in a ponytail out. Her soft, light brown waves falling around her shoulders.
“I don’t mind if you stay,” she tells Peggy. “You look beat.”
She glances back over at the bed. Peggy had sat up, the covers falling to pool around her waist revealing her sleeping attire. In her exhausted state, it seems as though Peggy opted to merely strip down to her underclothes. She sits there, her bra clad torso unabashedly on display. Angie quickly averts her gaze.
“I’m going to take a shower. Just make sure there’s room for me when I get back. I’m so fucking tired.”
“Mmm, alright,” is the sleepy reply Angie gets.
She spares one last glance over her shoulder as she flees to the bathroom. Peggy is scooting over on the mattress, making room for Angie to lie down as she makes herself comfortable once again.
Deciding she doesn’t want to go to bed with wet hair, Angie pulls it back up into a messy bun. She’s quick in the shower, not wanting to be on her feet any longer than necessary. Stepping out of the shower, she dries off and wraps the towel around herself. She brushes her teeth, and letting her hair down again, runs a brush through the gentle waves. That’s when she realizes her mistake.
“Damn it,” she curses quietly.
In a complete lack of forethought, Angie did not grab pajamas before closing herself in the bathroom. She pokes her head out of the door and finds Peggy with her eyes closed snuggled back under the covers. Angie makes sure the towel is snug around her body and leaves the bathroom. It’s a warm night, so she opts for a lightweight tank top paired with her softest shorts. She slips the shorts on underneath the towel. Assuming Peggy is asleep, she does away with the towel so she can pull the top on. She keeps her back turned in case her friend is not, in fact, asleep.
Angie’s never been shy about her body, actually having changed in front of Peggy before. However, seeing Peggy like this, so sleepy and content, lying in her bed. Her body isn’t exactly listening to her. The temperature of the room couldn’t be blamed for her nipples being drawn into tight buds, not to mention the dampness between her legs or the way her heart is nearly beating out of her chest.
This is probably the worst idea you’ve ever had, Martinelli, Angie thinks as she makes her way over to her bed.
Careful not to disturb her sleeping friend, Angie slips under the covers into the space Peggy made for her. She lies with her back to Peggy, figuring it would be easier for her to ignore what she’s feeling and maybe even fall asleep if she can’t see the other woman. That strategy works for all of tens seconds when, much to her dismay, she feels Peggy’s strong arm wrap around her waist.
“Thank you,” Peggy whispers as she pulls Angie back against her.
Angie can’t help the sigh that escapes at the feel of Peggy’s breasts pressing against her back. The arousal she felt before was nothing compared to how her body reacts to Peggy’s soft, ample curves pressing against her. Cursing herself once again, she tries desperately to keep her voice even as she responds.
“Buy me breakfast in the morning and we’ll call it even,” she manages to say, her voice deceivingly calm, playful even.
“Deal,” Peggy says. Angie can feel her breath ghosting over her shoulder. She stiffens slightly when Peggy presses her soft, full lips to her shoulder blade with a gentle hum. “Goodnight, darling.”
“’night, English.”