Teaching Angie To Shoot
They’d argued over putting a gun range or a gazebo in the mansion’s backyard. Then they’d built both, one a very safe distance away from the other. It was the range getting use today, Angie with a gun in her hand, Peggy behind her, giving direction.
“Relax your elbows,” she said, adjusting Angie’s stance. “Squeeze the trigger smoothly.”
“I’m hurt. Don’t think I’m smooth enough, English?”
Stifling a groan, Peggy eyed the target that Angie had yet to hit. “No flirting when you’re carrying a loaded weapon.”
“Really? If you followed your own rule, we wouldn’t even be on a first name basis.”
Point to Angie. “Try again, you cheeky fool.”
She tried. She missed. Peggy tried not to get frustrated. Angie was the one who wanted to learn, yet she wasn’t putting in the effort. Most of their time out here, she’d simply found excuses to press back against Peggy. Or asked her to demonstrate, countless times, the proper way of doing things. As a result, Peggy had gotten more target practice than her supposed pupil.
When Steve returned from SSR headquarters and joined them, Peggy wasted no time pulling him into the lesson. He had the patience of a saint, something she was sorely lacking at the moment.
“Maybe it’s the recoil,” he said, examining the pistol they were using. “Or the weight. Maybe try something else to start with.”
“Too late,” Peggy drawled. “The starting part was a few decades ago. Or so it seems.”
“How about that new one Howard cooked up?” Angie asked, “The one with all the flashing.”
“The one with all the flashing is capable of blowing a hole in a mountain. Let’s crawl before we sprint, all right, darling?”
“Whatever you say, Pegs,” Angie replied, offering a perfect salute.
Steve went back and forth, collecting guns from Peggy’s rather sizeable weapons cache.
“This one’s lighter.”
“The trigger guard’s rather small.”
“You taught me how to shoot with it.”
“It fell right out of your hands the moment you fired.”
“Only the first twelve times.”
Eventually they settled on a suitable replacement, Steve taking Peggy’s place as instructor. He demonstrated. He critiqued. Gently. Angie was less gentle when she pulled her usual tricks,. Answering his suggestions with suggestive comments, pressing against him. The effect was far more noticeable, despite Steve’s efforts to hide it.
“Bloody hell,” she muttered as he tried to cover the bulge in his pants. She was, for the millionth time, thankful for their differences in anatomy. She could be as wet and warm as she was frustrated without anyone being the wiser.
“Is that another gun in your pocket?” Angie asked.
“This is ridiculous,” said Peggy. “You are being ridiculous and childish and infuriating. And I’ve got better things to do than stand here participating in your games.”
“You might want to add Steve to that list of things. Looks like he needs it. Felt that way too.”
“Angie, this isn’t a joke. If someone comes after you—”
“Oh relax, Steve. You’re worked up enough.” Without waiting on a reply, Angie checked the safety, aimed the gun, and emptied the clip. Straight into the middle of the target.
Peggy and Steve looked on in shock, the latter momentarily forgetting his embarrassment at being put in such a state. “How…?” he asked. “What…?”
Angie shrugged, smiling brightly. “I grew up in a bad neighborhood. You learn things.”
“Perhaps,” said Peggy, indicating the perfectly riddled target. “But most people trained in basic weapons use don’t learn…that.”
“Since when was I most people? Okay look. My uncle Vito, he’s into some things. Family business if you know what I mean. Quit lookin at me like that, especially you, English. We all got secrets. Mine just happened to involve this blood oath kinda deal. Besides, if I told either of you, there’d be this ethical dilemma. Not like my uncle’s mob connections, which I totally didn’t mention, if anyone in a black car shows up askin, not like they have anything to do with national security. But still, I’d never wanna put you guys in an awkward position.”
“I see,” said Peggy. “And what about the position you put us in for the last three hours?”
Angie’s smile widened. “You both get so into your gun stuff. All serious and focused and knowledgeable. Can I help it if that gets me a little hot and bothered?”
Before either could reply, Angie handed the empty gun to Peggy, walking off with a spring in her step, and an extra bit of motion to her hips.
“She’s unbelievable,” Steve said.
Peggy nodded. “Cruel and devious.”
“Are you mad?”
“Extremely. You?”
“She had me scared to death for her safety, so yeah.”
Peggy nodded again. “She’s quite pleased with herself, isn’t she?”
“Yup. Doesn’t help with the anger, does it?”
“Not in the least. Do you think she’s reached the bedroom yet?”
“One of them, for sure.”
“She expects us to follow.”
“I noticed.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“You’re right.”
They looked at each other, at the mess of guns behind them. Then they joined hands and went after Angie.