Femslash February Day 03 - Cartinelli (Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli)
Prompt: Injury (thanks to @fine-i-give-in for spamming me w/ prompts ily)
Never let it be said that Agent Carter doesn't get the job done.
It isn't too serious, no, but a few inches to the left and it could have been. Could have severed somewhere important instead of her shoulder. Peggy has only gone and gotten herself stabbed, after all.
It really isn't as bad as it sounds.
Except Peggy said she'd be home hours ago, and it's already such an ungodly hour of the night, and she just knows that Angie will have stayed up to wait for her. Probably with dinner still sitting ready, warm on the stove, and a cup of English Breakfast tea made just how Peggy likes it. Not even just to take care of her, Peggy reckons, but out of spite.
She’s lucky it’s not also raining.
The lock turns and the door opens mercifully quiet. And Peggy's name isn't Agent Carter for nothing, so she can handle a bit of stealth in her own bloody house. Already the smell of rich tomato sauce and all sorts of herbs reach her, and she follows the smell down the hallways unthinkingly.
Foolish girl, she thinks as she realises she's stopped just in front of the kitchen door, the one place she wasn't meant to go.
Angie stands, arms crossed with an entirely unimpressed look on her face. And then —
Peggy follows Angie’s gaze with great resignation as it lands on her shoulder, bandaged by JARVIS just an hour ago but with a bright red spot of blood which has soaked through. She can't even say it isn't hers this time.
“Alright, Darling?” she begins, cringing at herself. She's usually much more level-headed than this.
Angie raises an eyebrow at her before she uncrosses her arms and steps forward into her space.
“Alright, Darling,” she mimics under her breath, one hand gently touching the small of Peggy’s back and the other hand coming up to rest of Peggy's cheek, eyes scanning over her face and the rest of her anxiously. “That's what you're leading with?”
“I'm fine, I’m fine, Love,” says Peggy, even as she allows herself to be led over to the table and sat down on one of the seats. She feels Angie's fingers running through her hair, untying the tight bun it's held in for practicality, and combing softly through the tangles.
“Fine?” she echoes incredulously, “Why is there blood? Why is there a bleeding bandage on your shoulder? How is that fine?”
Her voice is shrill and high-pitched and panicked and unsteady, her posture tense wound tight. Her hair is in loose unkempt curls, and her eyes are bright and… scared.
“I'm sorry,” says Angie after a second. She looks away, smooths down her skirt with shaking hands and turns towards the kitchen counter before setting a hot plate of freshly made pasta and cup of tea on the table, just how Peggy likes it.
Peggy doesn't say anything, she's too tired from the mission tonight and she just wants to curl up in bed, cuddle with Angie and sleep.
“I'm sorry,” Angie repeats, sitting down in the other chair and holding her gaze. She offers a small, tentative smile. “You've just had a long mission with all that secret agent stuff — your shoulder is bleeding for God's sake — and here I am fretting about, trying to be mad at you for doing your job.”
Peggy sighs and bites her lip, looking at her lover. “Angie, you're fine. You were just worried and I appreciate just how much you care for me, Darling,” she says, reaching forward with her good arm and taking Angie's hand.
“Well,” huffs Angie, rolling her eyes wetly. “You sure aren't doing it yourself, and someone has to.”
She stands and leans down to plant a soft kiss on Peggy's lips, and Peggy relaxes into it automatically because she's warm and smells like home and tastes like Schnapps and all the good things.
“I love you,” says Angie, pulling away slowly. “Now eat your dinner, it's going to get cold. I'll run you a bath because you're not getting in my bed filthy like that.”
“I wouldn't dream of it,” she replies, and pulls her down for one more quick peck. “And I love you too.”
It feels good to be home.
