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that's the spirit

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“You look practically dead on your heels, phone company working you like a mad dog?”

Peggy refrained from jumping at the voice, a quick glance around her shoulder assuring her that it was only Angie at her door, her hair still pinned up from her waitressing job but she had changed out of her uniform in to her bed clothes.

“I don’t think Mrs. Fry would care for you to be knocking on doors this late at night darling, shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” Peggy pulled off her heels, wincing when they rubbed her feet wrong.

Phone company perhaps was never the best cover story.

Angie smiles widely at that, taking it as her leave to stride through the doorway, kicking it shut behind her.

Peggy raises an eyebrow when she falls on top of Peggy’s bed, curls bouncing and she sighs dramatically.

“I think your bed is much nicer.” Angie’s voice falls to a whisper. “I think you might be Mrs. Fry’s favourite.”

“Hardly.” Peggy’s lips twitch at the idea of it, their landlady still glacial cold to Peggy on the best of days.

“Well since I need a good nights rest I think I ought to stay here tonight,” Angie’s eyes meet hers, brimming with amusement, “With you of course.”

“It’s only practical.” Peggy replies, her jacket sliding off her shoulders and set on her chair, perhaps not the best spot but there are other things to do right now and Peggy has learned she must enjoy the moments as they come least she lose them forever.

“The night can get rather cold.” She continues, stepping towards the bed and letting Angie tug at her blouse.

“That’s the spirit.” Angie flashes her a grin and pulls her down, laughs when Peggy tries to catch her balance but ends up on top of her and it’s all too easy to kiss her soft lips and sigh in to the kiss.

It’s not quite the life she dreamed of but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t growing fond of it.