Three's Not a Crowd

It was so much about contrasts with them, always had been. Peggy used to hate herself for that. She’d hold Angie and revel in it, and the traitorous part of her mind would compare Angie to Steve. The differences in height and build. Angie’s strong but soft dancer’s body contrasted with all the hard muscle of Steve. There were a million other things, variances to note. Not because Peggy wished for someone else, she adored Angie with everything she had. Still, in the beginning at least, it was hard to keep her time with Angie private, keep memories and missed opportunities at bay. It wasn’t fair to Angie, and Peggy had worked desperately hard to kick the habit, as much as that was possible.

And then Steve was back, and she was no longer an awful person for having those thoughts. She was too lucky, really. Not that she was complaining.

It wasn’t just differences between them. If they’d been polar opposites she couldn’t have loved them the way she did, and they couldn’t have loved each other. Both were uncommonly kind. Intelligent, creative, loyal to a fault. Utterly gorgeous, with blue eyes capable of mesmerizing her. Especially during times like this, when both sets were looking at her with the same mixture of passion and tenderness. It’d be enough to weaken her knees, if she weren’t lying down already.

Steve would’ve carried her if she’d let him, but that just wasn’t on the table. She’d spent more than enough time off her feet already. So she’d walked to the bed under her own power, but allowed him to help ease her down, fluff the pillows, and generally make a fuss. She lay on her back now, him next to her. Angie stood near the foot of the bed, having waited until she was sure Peggy was comfortable.

She was indeed comfortable, but she was looking for far more than that. “Tardiness is this one’s game,” she said, jerking a thumb at Steve while patting the empty space beside her with the other hand. “Move quickly, or we may have to start without you.”

Angie smirked. “Threat or promise, English?”

Arching a brow, Peggy put on a very specific expression. The one that made Angie shiver in place, and then move. Hurriedly. On her way, she stopped to switch off the bedside lamp, the only light source currently in use. “Uh-uh,” Peggy said, offsetting the firmness of her words with a smile. “It’s been far too long. I need to see you properly. Both of you.”

Angie swallowed, audible and visible. She nodded then, climbing atop the mattress and leaving the room bathed in soft light. Reaching blindly, Peggy felt Steve take her hand, his own acknowledgment of her request.

And then she was resting between the two of them, one on each side, and Peggy had to fight to breathe. In a pleasant way. Not like in the hospital, where the pain had persisted endlessly, and being conscious would’ve been a complete waste if not for Steve and Angie. Steve and Angie, who panicked and tried not to every time she closed her eyes for too long, or shifted in a way that worsened the pain. They’d been terribly scared for her, done everything for her while she recovered, whether she wanted them to or not. Everything but this. It was finally possible again, and she wanted it more than anything, wanted them.

Fortunately, when they weren’t being infuriating worrywarts and pitching fits every time she lifted a finger, they could be quite accommodating.

Propped up on his side, Steve leaned in to kiss her, the palm of his free hand tilting her head to make things easier. Peggy leaned into the touch, those large, gentle fingers rubbing against her skin. The kiss was gentle, too. Steve’s usually were, at least to start with. His tongue danced along her lips until she opened up to him, slow as it brushed against hers.

She could do without this much gentle, but knew they couldn’t. They’d need to be careful with her, until she proved that wasn’t necessary. She could do that now, swoop in on both of them, as she’d longed to for weeks. She wouldn’t though. Not yet at least.

So Peggy let Steve be slow and soft, framing his face in her hands. It wasn’t all softness, thank God. He’d been so busy hovering while she convalesced that he’d allowed some of his routines to fall by the wayside. His skin, usually so smooth and clean-shaven, now sported a respectable growth of stubble. Not a beard, but the closest she’d ever seen him get to it. Breaking the initial contact, Peggy planted butterfly kisses along his cheeks and jaw, nuzzling against the rough skin there. At the same time, the bed shifted, and Angie was there, lips roaming across Peggy’s neck, then stopping to nip and suck at the pulse point there.

Angie’s smooth skin and warm lips on her neck. Steve’s mouth, equally warm and welcome, but edged with bristles of facial hair. She fucking adored all those contrasts between them. She petted Angie’s hair, her free hand fisting in Steve’s shirt. When she needed air, she’d break from him, pull Angie up with a gentle hand at the nape of her neck, kiss her properly.

They were stroking her lightly, both of them, teasing touches all along her body. She was still present enough to keep up with who’s hands were doing what, but that wouldn’t last. And God she loved them, but there was slow and easy, and there was bloody torture. So when Angie’s hand drifted up for another pass, Peggy caught it firmly, holding it to her breast. Angie smirked again, but obeyed the unspoken order, rubbing through the fabric of Peggy’s shirt.

Steve’s shirt, actually. She’d worn many of those since leaving that damn hospital room. They were tents on her, but comfortable, easy to remove. This one was dark blue and smelled of him. No bra underneath, so when Peggy’s nipple stiffened under Ange’s touch, there was one less layer of fabric to dull the feeling. Letting her hand drop from Angie’s, Peggy laid that arm across her forehead, breathing in deep sighs. She shouldn’t be this far gone already, but it’d been months, for God’s sake.

Steve followed Angie’s lead, working her other breast. He was slightly gentler about it than Angie, who’d moved on to pinching Peggy’s nipple between her fingers. Steve was always more careful to start with. Bigger hands, more strength, and though Peggy trusted him implicitly, it usually took him awhile to let go and trust himself. Which worked out fine with Angie there to provide a slightly rougher touch. Contrasts again.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love the feeling of her skin against the soft well-worn fabric of Steve’s clothes, she very much did. It just wasn’t nearly enough, and she was starting to realize that if she didn’t prod them, their noble, foolish desire not to push too far too fast would keep Steve and Angie from moving on at all. So, leaning up to kiss Steve and burying a hand in his hair, Peggy moved from lips to ear, giving the lobe a careful bite before speaking. “Love. Thank you for letting me borrow your shirt. Now hurry up and get me out of it, won’t you?”

Peggy had whispered, but Angie was too close not to hear the request. She had half the buttons undone before Steve could move. When he did, he made quick work of the rest. Teamwork was a beautiful thing. Half-rising to shrug herself out of it, Peggy was stopped by their hands easing her down again. Rolling her eyes, she let them get rid of the shirt themselves, Steve tossing it away into a far corner. Teamwork could also be quite annoying.

Her irritation didn’t last, Couldn’t. Her eyes were on Steve, and his were locked on the tiny scar that marred her shoulder, Left, not right. She’d joked that if she’d taken another slug there, she’d have matching sets. Neither Steve nor Angie had laughed. She had bad luck with shoulders, it seemed. Her assailant had shot there first. Would’ve killed her with the one bullet if he’d aimed an inch higher, punctured her subclavian artery. Something Steve was clearly remembering as he skimmed his fingers across the wound.

“Rogers,” she murmured with just a hint of her Director voice, because those blue eyes that’d been so focused just moments ago were far away now. “Hey. Come back to me.”

He blinked, nodded, but didn’t sound like himself when he answered. “You almost didn’t. Come back. Could’ve lost you.”

A tear formed in his right eye. She kissed it away, kissed near his eyebrow, his forehead, then his mouth. She was achingly used to this. Even before the shooting she’d had to talk him down after near misses, when one or more of his squadron got too close to not returning. There were other men, other squadrons, innocent civilians who suffered a worse fate. There was Barnes.

She was more used to this than she ever wanted to be.

After the kiss, Peggy glanced over to Angie. She’d gone still, waiting, offering a small, sad smile. Peggy returned it, then refocused on Steve. The hand that wasn’t on her shoulder had fisted into the comforter. Even in this lighting she could see that the material wouldn’t hold out. Covering that hand with hers, Peggy eased the fingers apart, bringing them to her chest, letting him feel the heartbeat underneath. “You didn’t though.”

He breathed out again, shakily, kissed the shoulder he was touching. “I love you so much. Need you.”

“And I need you, darling, now. Stay here with me. With us.”

When he raised his head a moment later, his eyes were clear. “I’m sorry.”

“No need for it.” She wasn’t sure he believed her.

“You know,” said Angie, breaking her silence. “My Nonna almost convinced Ma and Pop that I should quit acting and move to her village in the old country, marry a pig farmer there. Another disaster averted, huh?”

The snort of a laugh Peggy let out was decidedly unladylike and would have her own grandmother voicing loud disapproval, It mixed with Steve’s chuckle, breaking what remained of the somber mood. Peggy couldn’t properly express her love for Angie in that moment, settled for kissing her instead, hard and deep. She felt Angie tremble, was rather proud of herself, then broke away suddenly. Steve’s fingers, still on her chest, had moved slightly, rolling at her left nipple. His lips followed a moment later, closing over her. Peggy hissed as his tongue worked the already sensitive area. Angie swallowed the sound with another kiss, much briefer than the last. Grinning wickedly as she pulled away, she proceeded to give Peggy’s right breast the same treatment Steve was paying to her left.

Peggy moaned. Sometimes they got like this, one mimicking the other as if it was a competition to see who could do the same job better. It was ridiculous and adorable, and bloody perfect.

She went taut in their mouths, moaning as familiar fingers roamed all along her torso. She could still keep track of who was doing what. Barely. She knew it was Steve ghosting a hand along her ribcage, his careful touch turned even softer as he found the scar there. Nasty thing, just below the ribs, the second shot that nearly went through her spleen. Her eyes were half-closed now, but she forced them open, gazing down at him. His tongue still moved against her, lip catching tenderly on the underside of her breast as he noticed her scrutiny. The hand by her ribs stayed, but the other went lower, squeezing her hip. Peggy wasn’t certain, her mind was a bit too hazy at this point, but she thought the gesture was meant to reassure. He could do this. He could love the hurt without getting lost in it.

Angie paused in her ministrations. Peggy saw her eyes flit from Steve’s face to the scar. They didn’t linger there. Peggy sucked in a breath, feeling the change in temperature as Angie’s warm mouth left her nipple, finding Steve’s forehead. Another show of reassurance. Peggy blinked back unexpected tears, realizing that they’d virtually ignored each other since this started. She could picture them so easily, clinging to each other while she was only half-alive, holding each other together. She loved them so much, hated how they’d gone through that because of her. Fought off the bloody tears before either could see them, because they’d both panic.

She needed a minute. A break from their shared attentions, which could be overwhelming under normal circumstances. And frankly, that simple, tender move on Angie’s part had awakened another need within her. When she told them, one hand stroking Steve’s cheek while the other played along Angie’s neck, the reaction was almost comical.

“But this is about you.”

The conflict in Steve’s voice was mirrored on Angie’s face and Peggy really did work to keep from laughing. She’d gone off of whatever script they’d laid out, and she was quite happy about it. “So it is,” she said, fingers gliding under Steve’s chin. “And I,” she pulled him up for a kiss, brief and light, “have made a request.” She kissed him again. “This being my night and all, should you really be questioning my requests?” They shuddered, both of them, almost in unison. Peggy smirked. Not quite her Director voice, but a version of it that none of her employees would ever, ever hear.

Angie recovered first, delivering a surprisingly perfect salute. “Aye aye, captain.” Her eyes sparkled in the half light as she played with Steve’s collar. “Other Captain?”

Rolling his eyes, Steve told Angie she was insane, sharing a last look with Peggy. “Whatever the lady wants,” he said, voice lower than usual despite the playful grin on his lips.

They moved back then, not far, but enough that Peggy was grateful for these obscenely huge beds. Howard had been right when he said she’d find a use for them, but she was too distracted to be annoyed about that. As she watched, Angie rose to her knees on the mattress, tugging at Steve’s shirt. They were slow to undress each other, fumbling. Nervous, which was absurd and perfect, and reminded her of the first time she’d asked for this. As she had then, Peggy stretched out with an exaggerated calm, raising her knees. The trousers she wore were loose and comfortable, normally reserved for workouts. She slipped a hand beneath them, stroking through the fabric of her underwear while Angie pulled at Steve’s belt and he struggled to remove her underthings.

Peggy would have to go back to dealing with slips and garter belts and everything else once she returned to the office. For now, it was gloriously easy to rub herself where she needed and enjoy the show.

She didn’t quite understand it, honestly. If anyone else were to touch or even look at either of them that way, she would get very violent very quickly. So she had a bit of a jealous streak, she could admit it. But watching Steve and Angie together, jealousy certainly wasn’t the word for it.

Eventually, Angie wound up naked, Steve bare except for his skivvies. Settling on his lap, Angie mapped the planes of his chest, scratching lightly. Peggy licked her lips as Angie’s nipples brushed against the muscle there.

Steve kissed her face, her neck, the valley between her breasts. Angie jerked at that last move, releasing a sound that had Peggy’s fingers speeding up. Her free hand pinched and pulled at her own breasts, drifting between them. The motion was almost absent, enthralled as she was by Steve and Angie’s performance.

Winding her arms around his neck, Angie kissed Steve hard, eliciting a groan. Afterward, she turned her head to look at Peggy, a predatory smirk fully in place. She winked, bloody winked, before rocking down against Steve.

Brat. Always such a brat.

Bracing one hand on Angie’s hip, Steve slipped the other between them, between her legs. Angie kept moving against the bulge still covered by his underwear, clawing at his shoulders while Steve rubbed her. A circular pattern, clockwise, then not, fast to slow, then back. It took Peggy a moment to realize she was mirroring his actions with her own hand.

She let it go like this for several minutes, knowing it wouldn’t last. Angie moved with harsh, whimpering breaths, but made no move to strip off the last of Steve’s clothing. Steve touched her, but there was no real intent behind it. Neither was trying for it, just shooting Peggy dark, hazy glances, waiting for a signal. And Peggy, she could and had come from watching them, but didn’t want that tonight, not yet at least. That spike of raw emotion that’d forced her to put some space between them, it hadn’t passed, but had morphed into something else, a different need.

They eased away from each other at her softest whisper. She wasn’t even sure what to ask for initially. So many possibilities with the both of them here. She didn’t know if she wanted Steve’s hands or Angie’s mouth. Steve’s hands on her while her mouth was on Angie? She had missed that one quite terribly. To hell with it, there’d be time for more later. Angie rocking herself against Steve had given her ideas, and really, it seemed cruel not to do something about that erection, especially since he’d never ask on his own.

So before he or Angie could fall over themselves helping her, Peggy wriggled out of her pants and underwear. Pulling Steve in with a hand to the back of his neck, she brought her fingers lower, squeezing him through the fabric of his shorts. He clenched his teeth, still unable to stay silent, that ridiculously powerful frame shuddering under her touch. She kissed him, squeezed again at the same moment her teeth grazed his earlobe. “Go inside, darling.”

He nodded, breathed roughly, set about removing his shorts. In the interim, Peggy crooked a finger, beckoning Angie to lay next to her again. Realizing belatedly that said finger was rather soaked, she moved to wipe it against the comforter. Angie was faster, snatching up the hand and cradling it between hers.

“Hey,” she said, her tone the same as when Steve or Peggy tried to snatch up some last bit of food she wanted. “Mine.”

And then Peggy’s fingers were in Angie’s mouth. Her tongue was quick, greedy and thorough, licking Peggy clean with a look of absolute relish. Fighting not to melt under the power of that look, Peggy shot Steve a glance. He’d gone still, watching, blue eyes turned almost black.

Bloody fucking damn. She’d survived four bullets, a handful of stabbings, and more broken bones than she cared to think of. It was these two who’d be the death of her, Peggy didn’t doubt it for a moment.

When Angie was done torturing her, they shared slow, lazy kisses. She tasted herself on Angie’s lips. Closing her eyes, Peggy mapped Angie’s face, her mouth, by touch alone. Letting her fingers drift, she found the pulse at Angie’s neck, felt how fast it was beating. She was working on saying something witty and flirtatious when Steve’s cursing caught her attention.

He was naked now, finally, had pulled a condom from the bedside drawer while she was distracted with Angie. His hands shook. That and the lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes made him seem incredibly young. When he looked at her, it was with a sort of mortified amusement.

“I don’t…” He trailed off, swore again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing,” said Peggy, because there wasn’t. “It’s—”

She’d meant to tell him that everything was fine, or something to that effect. Angie kissed her silent, then moved, crawling until she was in front of Steve, Stilling his hands, Angie took the condom away, rolling it onto him herself. “High school all over again.”

The soft smile on her lips rid the words of any sting. Steve kissed her before she could retreat, catching her wrist in his hand. “Be lost without you, Ang, you know that?” he asked after the contact broke.

“Well yeah,” she said, teasingly bumping her forehead to his. “Everyone knows that, Steve. Everyone. Now. Show her a good time, will you?”

Peggy choked on her laughter again. Angie might’ve been sending them off to the movies together. She wondered what would happen if the absurdity of their situation ever stopped hitting her from time to time, but didn’t dwell on that thought. Not with Angie next to her again and Steve pushing gently on her back, easing her onto her side

Back where she’d started, nestled in between them, Peggy smiled in anticipation as Steve held her from behind. One arm fell loosely over her collarbone, and Peggy covered it with hers, kissing the muscle there. His free hand was lower, positioning himself. Peggy rocked her hips and sank down, releasing a strangled cry.

Her nails dug into his forearm, eyes jamming shut. It was good, it couldn’t be anything else, but it had been awhile. She forced herself to relax, adjust.

“Peggy?”

Steve was holding himself still, but there were tiny trembles in his voice and body. “Just…give me a moment.”

She felt rather than saw his nod. His voice in her ear was ragged and tense. “Just…just tell me.”

Not “tell me when to move,” he wasn’t taking that for granted. If she decided this was too much, it would stop instantly. She wouldn’t, but that wasn’t the point.

Her eyes stayed closed as Angie’s lips dusted over them. The hand that didn’t cover Steve’s had fisted into the comforter. Angie took it, squeezed, provided another anchor as she kissed Peggy’s face, neck, shoulders. Her voice was low and sweet, desperately tender as she told Peggy to take her time, her free hand skimming lightly over her torso.

Within a few breaths, Peggy was ready and told him so. There was an agonizing half second when she thought Steve would question her, then another nod, and the waves of pleasure as he moved inside her.

Forcing her eyes open, Peggy saw Angie smiling at her, a look that was both soft and lustful. She’d always liked it this way, but there were drawbacks. She also liked looking her lover in the eye, and that was harder like this. The problem was solved rather beautifully now. She could drown in the feeling of Steve thrusting up and in, and see Angie at the same time. Angie, who pressed herself impossibly closer, sneaking her hand between them.

There weren’t words for it, how amazing this felt. As was so often the case, it didn’t matter. Angie was more than happy to do the talking. Crooning, really. Lovely Italian words as good as a caress. Past the point of fully hearing them, Peggy knew from prior experience that they were absolutely filthy, things the normally confident woman was too shy to say in English. Peggy’s Italian vocabulary had grown extensively in the last few years. Not that most people would know, since most of the phrases she’d learned from Angie could never be used in polite company.

She was perfectly trapped between them. If she moved a certain way, she could join her lips to Steve’s which she did, often. And whenever she broke from him, there would be Angie, kissing her mouth or her neck or her breasts. Peggy lost all sense of time. At one point she reached down below Angie’s stomach, wanting to give the same pleasure she was so eagerly receiving. Angie surged forward against her fingers, but caught her hand, their mouths meeting in a sloppy kiss.

“Not now. Please. Just lemme do this for you? Please, Peg?”

Fucking hell. She was begging. Peggy couldn’t resist begging. Not with Angie’s eyes so wide, locked on her with something like reverence, and not with Steve hitting that exquisite place inside.

Later. This could be her night, that was all fine and good, but she’d have Angie begging in a different way soon enough. For now she did her best to nod. Then she looked down, saw Steve thrusting in and out while Angie worked her clit between slim, deft fingers. The sight undid her. She cried out, pulling Angie close to muffle the sound.

Steve swore, breath hot and fast against her neck as she clamped down on him. “Peg. God. Love you.”

Far less eloquent than Angie and her filthily detailed Italian poetry, but Peggy loved it. Loved him. Told him so as the hand that hadn’t gripped his arm this whole time latched onto his thigh, squeezing hard. “Your turn,” she said, because he wouldn’t come without knowing that she had. That was all it took. Permission, a few more thrusts, then he was gone, the most powerful man alive totally undone as he clung to her.

Riding out the aftershocks, Peggy jerked fitfully in the cradle of Steve’s arms, feeling how he struggled to get his breath. Angie’s fingers still played with her clit, slow and soft, easing her down.

As they came back to themselves, Steve gave her one last squeeze, dropped a kiss to her upper back, then eased out. Both groaned at the loss, but Peggy didn’t have much time to fret. Angie was running calm hands along her body, soothing her.

“Well, that was a sight for sore eyes,” she said, grinning as she pushed aside a strand of Peggy’s hair, damp now with sweat.

She imagined it was, remembered the thrill of watching Angie with Steve. Watching wasn’t enough though, not anymore. The mattress shifted as Steve did. He was probably dealing with the condom, but Peggy couldn’t be sure. Her focus turned completely to Angie, she rolled them until Angie was lying beneath her. It wasn’t the smoothest transfer she’d ever made, admittedly, but it got the job done, got her knee between Angie’s, and Angie crying out in surprise as she writhed against it.

“Shit, English. Sure you don’t wanna catch your breath first?”

Smirking, Peggy settled atop Angie so that their bodies touched everywhere, breasts rubbing against each other while Peggy’s leg was coated with Angie’s wetness. “Difficult to accomplish, that, you keep stealing it away.” Far from her best line, but Peggy was drunk with want, and Angie didn’t seem to mind, her whole body trembling as Peggy leaned down to kiss her. Distantly, she was aware of Steve’s eyes on them. He’d propped himself on an elbow to watch, she could imagine the pleased little grin on his face, but he made no move to get directly involved. As Angie had waited while Peggy talked him down earlier, Steve waited now, letting them have this time. When they weren’t making impromptu contests out of lavishing attention on her breasts, they were both incredibly considerate about things like this.

Planting a teasing kiss to Angie’s mouth, Peggy reveled in the feeling of Angie’s hand in her hair. The other hand pulled restlessly at the sheets as Peggy ran her tongue along Angie’s collarbone. Where Steve’s arm had been before, while he moved inside her. It was a lovely combination, recalling that so recent pleasure while Angie fidgeted beneath her. She kissed the place between Angie’s breasts, lingered there longer than Steve had earlier, Cupping one breast, Peggy plucked at the nipple, immensely pleased by how quickly it stiffened under her touch. Her other hand ran light circles over Angie’s stomach, just above where they both needed her to be.

Peggy kissed Angie’s neck, her jaw, brushed their cheeks together before leaning down to breathe into her ear. “Do you have any idea,” she pushed her knee up into wet heat, enjoying Angie’s sharp, needy cry before continuing, “how much I’ve missed you?” She switched to the other breast, teasing Angie’s nipple between her fingers.

Eyes wide and skin flushed, Angie still managed a comeback, albeit a weak one. “Been right here, English.”

She wore a tight little smile. Peggy traced the line of it with her tongue. “Indeed,” she said between kisses, Angie’s mouth having opened to hers almost immediately. “You’re always right here when I need you. And for weeks now, I’ve had one thought in my head, overriding all the others. Do you know what it was?”

Angie shook her head, mute.

Moving north from Angie’s breasts, Peggy dragged her hand in a slow trail up her body, stroking along her shoulder and arm until she found the hand clawing at the sheets, covering it with hers. “All I could think every time I looked at you was how much I needed this. You, here, under me. You’ve taken such good care of me, darling, for so long. I need to take care of you now. Will you let me do that, sweetheart?”

Angie positively bucked. “Fuck…Peggy…”

“Tell me. Let me take care of you. Tell me you want that.” So she already had her answer, was being the slightest bit horrible. She’d had next to no control for months. Not over her body, not over the work she hated and loved and had to set aside. If she got a thrill from retaking that control like this, well, she thought Angie would understand.

Angie said something breathy and frantic and Italian, followed it up with Peggy’s name. “Yes. God yes. Just…please. Please, Peg, you gotta—”

That proper begging she’d been waiting for was all it took. Angie’s words fell off into a loud, desperate moan as Peggy’s hand went lower, from her stomach to her sex. Peggy swore aloud, speaking mostly to herself. “God, darling. You’re dripping.” Angie whimpered and tried to push against her fingers, but Peggy placed her free hand on Ange’ chest, making soothing noises and lightly dragging a nail over the skin there. When Angie calmed a bit, Peggy spared a glance at Steve. He was half-hard again (bless that damn formula), but doing nothing about it, just watching them with dark eyes and that smile/smirk she’d envisioned. “I believe she’s quite ready. Thanks for helping with that.”

His chuckle was much lower than usual. “Yeah, real hardship. The things I do for you.”

Peggy was fairly sure Angie was in the process of raising a hand to flip him off. It changed course in a hurry, landing hard on Peggy’s shoulder when she began rubbing Angie’s clit. She used the same motion Steve had earlier, but harder, faster. Angie rocked against her hand, making high, needy sounds that only spurred Peggy on. The hand not clutching her shoulder was still in her hair. Both went tight when Peggy slipped two fingers inside. Angie clamped down hard, shaking all over. “Yes, Angie,” Peggy murmured, cupping her cheek with the hand that wasn’t buried in familiar warmth. “That’s it. God you feel good. You’re perfect.”

Angie’s eyes slammed shut, then opened wide. Her gaze went to Peggy’s shoulder, the one she was gripping. She pulled away sharply, released Peggy’s hair, shut her eyes again.

Peggy was hit with a sudden rush of panic, especially when a few tears fell from behind tightly closed lids. She immediately halted her movements, started to say something before Angie beat her to it.

“No, don’t. Please don’t stop. I’m fine, I swear.”

Peggy felt Steve shift on the bed, felt his gaze turn from lustful to worried. Cupping Angie’s cheek, Peggy kissed her softly. “You’re not. Tell me,” she whispered, tone very different from the one she’d used moments ago when uttering the same words.

Angie breathed harshly, clutching the sheets on either side of her. “I don’t know. I haven’t…I couldn’t let myself feel it before. I signed up for this. I know you guys are always in danger, and I have to accept that. I do accept it. But…”

Broken and garbled, Angie seemed to choke on the words. Peggy realized suddenly that the shoulder Angie so hastily let go of was the one most recently injured. Realized that while Steve lingered over her wounds, Angie hadn’t touched them all night. Realized with a particularly harsh jolt that she and Angie had never properly talked. Tonight wasn’t the first time Steve admitted his fear of what almost happened. But Angie…

Peggy looked at Steve, saw the answer without voicing the question. Angie hadn’t confided in him either, not since those first days after the shooting, at least. There was guilt in his eyes. Blame. He shouldn’t feel that, even though she shared it with him. Angie was always there to ease the tension to help them with their battle scars, as she had tonight. The problem was that she was too good an actress, too good at hiding her own scars. She and Steve had been too distracted to see the performance for what it was.

I signed up for this. I have to accept that.

Angie had tried to protect them, protect Peggy from guilt. Now she was flooded with it. “Darling…”

“I can handle it, what you do, I can. Just don’t, don’t…”

What? Go off and be heroes alone? Leave the stupid, weak civilian who couldn’t cope with the realities of what she’d gotten into? She wasn’t saying it, but Peggy could hear those things in Angie’s voice. She kissed her, long and slow. Taking Angie’s hand, she moved it back to the shoulder that’d caused so much trouble. Reaching to place Angie’s other hand at the nape of her neck, Peggy kissed her again, letting their foreheads touch. “You can handle anything, I’d be a fool not to know that. That doesn’t mean you don’t have to feel anything. I don’t want that, not ever.”

“Peggy—”

“I’m here,” she said before Angie could deflect. “I will always, always do my very best to come back to you. And, let’s be honest, my best is quite a bit better than most people’s.” That earned her a watery chuckle. Peggy smiled, then grew serious again. “I’m here now. We’re all here, together, and I want you to feel it. All of it. Can you do that for me, love?”

Angie nodded, her smile weak but real.

“Good,” Peggy said, slowly resuming the movement of her fingers, mouthing at the column of Angie’s throat. “Hang onto me. I promise I won’t break.”

Angie did, pressing herself as close as she could into Peggy. She shook, and Peggy suspected that wasn’t only because she’d picked up where she left off, working inside of Angie, relearning the places that made her grip tighten, her sounds go higher. There were a hundred other things she wanted to do yet, with both of them, but right now all she wanted was for Angie to lose control.

“That’s it,” Peggy murmured as Angie’s legs wrapped around her hips. “Just like that, darling. You’re so beautiful. Just like that, my love.”

“Fuck…Peg. You’re so…I can’t…”

Twisting her fingers and spreading them wide, Peggy kissed Angie’s forehead, rubbed harder at that small bundle of nerves. “You can. Just feel it, Angie. Just feel it.”

“I’m gonna…close. God, I’m so close.”

“Good. Let yourself go. Let everything go. Come for me, sweetheart. It’s been so long since you’ve come for me. Let me see you, Ang. Let me hear you. Please, darling.”

Angie did, half-screaming as she fell apart against Peggy’s fingers, calling out her name. Pulling Angie close, Peggy worked her through it, coaxing every bit of pleasure she could from Angie’s body. She’d been tense for too long, worried and frightened and carrying it alone. It wasn’t right. Peggy needed her to feel good, feel amazing

She’d been with Angie long enough to read her body, know when to stop. With her lover boneless and shivering, Peggy eased her fingers free, making sure she found Angie’s gaze before licking her fingers clean, one by one.

Angie whined, a fresh spasm working its way up her body. “You tryin to kill me, Peg?”

“Turnabout is fair play, my love.”

Angie nodded, pulling herself impossibly closer to Peggy. “Can you just, just hold me a sec?”

Angie’s face was hidden in the crook of her neck. Peggy felt the wetness of tears there, and something in her chest tightened. “Darling. Anything you need, for as long as you need. You must know that.”

Another nod. “I’m okay. Better than, I mean, that was perfect. Just, didn’t think it would hit me so hard.”

Peggy was quite sure they’d all felt that way tonight. Rolling onto her side with Angie tucked against her, Peggy smiled as Steve closed the distance between them, running a strong, soothing hand over Angie’s back, pausing long enough to pull the comforter over them.

“Hey,” he murmured, brushing a soft kiss to Angie’s neck. “Ang. Don’t hide from us, all right? Still not great at talking to dames, but I’d like to think I’ve improved a little.”

Peggy felt the vibrations of Angie’s watery chuckle, loosening her hold so Angie could roll over and bury her head against Steve’s chest.

Laughing quietly, Steve pulled her into his arms, playing idly with her hair. He also nuzzled her face against his repeatedly. “Still hiding.”

Groaning, Angie swatted playfully at Steve’s cheek. “Scratchy beard.”

Another laugh as Steve caught her fingers in his, kissing the inside of her wrist. “I think beard is overstating it. You want me to shave?”

“Did I say that?”

Taking Angie’s other hand in hers, Peggy used the free one to tilt Angie’s chin towards her. Steve’s chest did make for a rather perfect hiding place, but Peggy couldn’t allow her to keep making use of it. “I’m sorry, you know.”

Angie frowned. “After all that, what would you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“For making you think you had to hide your feelings. Steve’s right, darling. Never do that. Not here, not with us.”

Sighing, Angie shifted again, arms wrapping around Peggy’s torso. “Says the poster woman for the stiff upper lip.”

“Entirely different. I’m British.” Steve and Angie both laughed at her, which was the desired response.

Angie lightly rested her forehead on Peggy’s chest, near her heart. “I’ll do my best not to stomp on your Brit territory if you do your best not to scare me like that again, English.”

Worrying her lower lip, Peggy rocked Angie a bit, meeting Steve’s eyes over her shoulder. “Everything I can to come back to you, darling, always, just like I said.” She paused, considering her next words. If she wanted Angie to be honest about her emotions, some quid pro quo was probably in order. “I scared myself too, you know. When I blacked out, well, I wasn’t sure I’d see either of you again. And that terrified me more than anything else.” Wordless, Steve placed an arm over them both, Peggy focused on breathing, concentrated on Angie safe in her arms, Steve nearby on Angie’s other side. “I love you both. More than I could ever say. And while I’m not the best of patients—”

“A nightmare, you mean.”

Angie’s interruption was muffled against Peggy’s skin. Peggy tugged lightly on one of her curls, but otherwise ignored it. “While I’m not the best of patients, I love you all the more for taking care of me these last weeks.”

Angie made a dismissive noise, but squeezed Peggy a little tighter. “We’ll always take care of you, Peg, nightmare or not.”

“Thank you, darling,” Peggy drawled. “You’re incredibly sweet.”

“Sweeter than rhubarb pie, honey.” Steve chuckled at that. Angie cracked one eye open to glare at him. “Peg, hit him for me.”

Peggy smirked. “You’re closer.”

“So? I can’t move, and it’s your fault, so hit him.”

“In a bit, perhaps. You rest now, you’ll need your strength later.”

Steve cocked his head, looking very much like a concerned Golden Retriever. “You’re still recovering. Sure you’re up for that?”

Another smirk. “Shouldn’t be too taxing. You and Angie seemed perfectly willing to do most of the work earlier. Has that changed?”

Angie and Steve looked at each other in the semi-darkness. The speed with which they shook their heads was quite gratifying. “As I thought.”

There were far too many things she’d missed, things she hadn’t gotten to do yet. Reminding herself that Angie did in fact taste better than rhubarb pie was at the top of that list. Not yet though. For now she was content to hold Angie close, feel the absent patterns Steve drew across her forearm, and just be with the people she loved.