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"Black Widow's been sighted in Yugoslavia, Carter," Burton says as he passes her desk. "Thought you'd want to know."
"Thank you," Peggy says to his retreating back. "I know." She has better sources of information than Burton. She's already notified Cartwright, the head of her section, that she'll be leaving at 3am tonight. Cartwright had wrinkled his nose, and said, "Carter, I don't mean to... but wouldn't you prefer I send..." He'd spread his hands helplessly under Peggy's stare. They could both fill in the gap. Someone younger.
No. The Black Widow is hers.
***
It doesn't take long for Romanova to track her down. Peggy's barely managed to unpack her secondary and tertiary gun (her primary gun being, of course, on her person) when there's a slight change in the draughts of her hotel room, and a smooth voice behind her says, "Agent Carter."
Peggy's back stiffens. "Widow," she greets. She doesn't bother turning around, just continues loading her secondary gun calmly, slotting the bullets in one by one by one.
"Was it the telephone call you caught? They made me use the same payphone twice, it was foolish."
"Possibly," Peggy says, and puts the gun down. "Are you here for killing or for sneaking around?" There are rules to this.
"Sneaking around," Natasha says, and her hands are on Peggy's waist a moment later. "You've put on some weight."
"It happens at my time of life," Peggy says.
"I wouldn't know."
"No, and you might never, might you?" Peggy drops her hands to cover Natasha's, feels the smoothness of youth, still, after all these years.
"Grey hair yet?"
"Nobody knows," Peggy says, and allows herself a smile. "Except my hairdresser, isn't that how it goes?"
"Hmmmm," Natasha says. She's probably inspecting Peggy's hair right now. It's the kind of weakness she would enjoy finding. "Did your boss tell you you were getting too old for this? He's thirty-five, correct? How old were you when he joined?"
"You know the answers," Peggy says, and shrugs. "Congratulations, you've uncovered the secret at the heart of MI6. There's something of a glass ceiling. How do you intend to use that fact to bring Britain and its allies to ruin?"
"I'll let you know when I decide," Natasha says, laughter in her voice. "Would you like a hint about what I'm going to do tomorrow?"
"Yes," Peggy says, because Natasha is sometimes not as clever as she thinks she is.
"Too bad, you almost had me in Oslo. I won't repeat that mistake."
"Let's stop talking about it then, shall we?" Peggy lets go of Natasha's hand to begin unbuttoning her blouse.
"If you like," Natasha says, still amused, and she slides her hands up to cup Peggy's breasts.