all that we wish will come to pass (agent carter | angie/peggy)

[fiachairecht]

all that we wish will come to pass. agent carter, angie/peggy. peggy vists angie on her latest film set. 809w, rated t. for shopfront in fandomgiftbox 2018.

Angie has a monster of a headache creeping up behind her temples before her watch hits 10am, and while she's trying to be better about dying and hyperbole ever since seeing what Peggy gets up to when she's not at home, she's beginning to wonder if a temporary death — just from, say, now until her good-for-nothing director decides to come back from his coffee break with the newest PA — might be just the thing to get rid of it.

Death would probably be cooler, too. Sure she's used to stage lights, but the double glare of the soundstage lighting and lights of the fake-Broadway stage she's acting on is too much for a Los Angeles summer. The crew's been adding more lights all morning too, trying to get the setup right like switching over to colour film has made everyone forget how to light a damn film set, and if her headache doesn't kill her she's pretty sure the lights will.

Angie sighs and drapes herself over the water cooler, long as there's not anyone around to yell at her about wrinkles in her costume. There's not even any fun distractions, because Lizzie's monopolised their choreographer for extra practise and everyone else has taken advantage of the director's absence to sneak off as well.

The thing is, Angie's trying, she really is, this is only her third big role and she knows she still has to prove herself, which means things like getting to set early and staying on set when the door to the backlot looks mighty tempting.

She drifts over to it anyway, one eye on Lizzie and the choreographer in the corner, the two of them blind to the whole wide world. Cracking open the door can't hurt, can it? Sure there's not a breeze to be found in the city right now, but she can pretend.

She hardly gets the door open more than an inch before she sees Peggy on the other side, leaning casually against the alley wall like a golden, coffee-scented angel, and Angie thanks every other set of shenanigans Peggy has ever dragged her into for the ability to only take a giant step backwards and definitely not scream in shock.

"Careful now," Peggy says with that sweet, sly smile of hers as she leverages herself off the wall. "Wouldn't want to surprise your whole crew."

"They're mostly gone," Angie sneaks a look over her shoulder to confirm Lizzie's still occupied and slips out the door, kicking a painted wooden boulder from yesterday's Western shoot behind her to prop it open. And then, Peggy's proffered coffee not enough to disguise the twinkle in her eye, Angie concludes, "And I think you knew that."

"We'll make a detective of you yet," Peggy laughs, wrapping her in a one-armed hug as Angie makes a grab for the coffee. "You cinema types are so susceptible to the promise of somewhere with central air. And besides," she adds, even though Angie can't really protests, "Can't a girl just miss you?"

"You're spoiling me, English, that's what you're doing," Angie murmurs, grinning demurely and letting her fingers linger against Peggy's as she takes the cup.

"Well, I've got quite a lot of nights at the diner to pay you back for," Peggy says, but there's a touch of melancholy to the words that Angie doesn't like at all.

She nudges Peggy's ankle with the toe of her tap shoe, and giggles as Peggy doesn't quite stifle a squeak at the touch of the hot metal against her skin. "None of your moping, silly, I'm trying to film a comedy here."

She's gratified to see the smile creep back onto Peggy's face. "Oh, are you?" she asks archly. "Because to me it looks like you're skiving off work."

"And whose fault is that, hm?"

"I'm sure I have no idea." Peggy's look of affected innocence is enough to make Angie want to kiss her right there, even though anyone from the studio could walk by.

She pushes that idea firmly to the side, the sound of people starting to filter back into the soundstage intruding on their brief moment of solitude. "Well. You can do something about my headache when I get home tonight if you're serious about paying me back."

"Of course," Peggy says softly, and presses a fleeting kiss to Angie's cheek. "Drink your coffee, love."

And then she's gone, faster than Angie can blink, in a way that would be plain unnerving if she hadn't seen it a hundred times before. She sighs as she heads back inside, making sure the door shuts behind her.

It takes her nearly an hour to finish the coffee, between takes and admonitions from the makeup crew, but all that means is that the lipstick heart at the bottom of the cup makes her smile all the more.