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Okay, so witches were a thing.

Peggy wished she had known that before she had infiltrated the Hydra base, before she fought a witch and before her world literally shrank around her, when said witch got sick of dodging her punches and snapped her fingers in her direction.

It’s entirely her fault though that she found herself in that base in the first place. The Captain was always telling her she needed to stop sticking her nose in places where it didn’t belong.

Though, she’s not sure who she is blaming now; herself or Dum-Dum for dropping her off at the animal shelter three blocks from her apartment.

Peggy supposes she couldn’t fault him too much, he and the rest off the Howling Commandos assume she’s dead or captured and soon to be dead, since they couldn’t find her. Even Dum-Dum’s mustache had looked sad when he had relayed that information to the boys, eyes downcast and jaw tight, his grip like a vice around her rib cage from when he had scooped her up.

She had tried to tell them she was right there, by pulling on their shoe strings and meowing loudly, if a bit obnoxiously, but to no avail. All that got her was being passed around physically like some furry pass-the-parcel and whispered agreements that she was the feline embodiment of one Peggy Carter.

It made her heart clench horribly behind her ribs. She and the boys had lost too many people already to wars and fighting. To them, this was just another blow to the chest, one that wouldn’t really heal over or stop throbbing.

But she digresses. Animal shelter. Cage. Cat food.

Three things she’s never had anything in common with, up until now.

If she wasn’t adamant to get the use of her thumbs back, Peggy would have sat there in that three by four cage and just wailed.


“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

Peggy blinks her eyes open, not at all sure when she fell asleep curled up in the corner. She’s met with clear blue eyes and crimson painted lips pulled into a warm smile. The sight makes something shivery slide down her spine, something that makes her want to press against the metal grate of the cage in an effort to get closer.
Peggy doesn’t, she refrains, but she does sit up, dished ears facing forward in curiosity.

“She just came in last night,” the worker tells her, gaze warily eyeing her. There are noticeable bandages on his arms from their first meeting. He had checked to see if she was a male or not. Peggy hadn’t appreciated that at all. “A bit feisty though. I think she’s a stray.”

A low rumble escapes her and before she knows it, her hackles are raised.

“Don’t think she likes that,” The woman grins, pokes her fingers through the grate and wiggles them. She shoots the man an amused look. “Besides, she’s gorgeous and clearly well fed. She’s no stray.”

It’s only for the fact she called Peggy gorgeous, that she finally moved forward and accepts the ear and chin scritches, eyes closing slowly and a low purr echoing in her chest.

“What breed is she?”

“Don’t know,” the worker in forms her. “We know she’s an English cat, their cats have more of a broader cheekbone and jaw ratio, ours don’t. Besides that, I’ve never seen a cat like her before.”

“I’ll take her,” She smiles when Peggy automatically chases her fingers when she pulls them away. “And you just helped me name her.”


“And here’s your new home, English.”
Peggy finds it ironic that the woman, Angie, as she founds out after signing the papers for her, has given her that name.

She’s gentle when she pulls Peggy out of her carrier, places her gently on the coffee table and watches silently as she takes in her surroundings. The apartment is small, only two rooms, the bathroom taking one and the sitting area and kitchenette taking up the other. The bed looks like it folds out from the wall.

“It’s not much, but it’ll do.” Angie explains, petting her spine lightly. “Just you wait and see when I get my acting career off the ground. We’ll be living in fancy houses with their own butler-chauffeur!”

Peggy watches on amused as Angie rattles on about what else they’ll be able to have, from staying in huge hotels to meeting everyone who was famous, to even seeing the world. Her enthusiasm was infectious and Peggy couldn’t help but follow her as she danced around the room, pulling off scarves and jackets, this and that to make an elaborate character to play, all the while making sure not to step on her as Peggy wound around her ankles in figure eights.

Soft hands pick her up and keep her close to Angie’s chest, her head tucked in the curve of her throat. She feels more than hears the woman tell her, “It’s just you and me, English and it’s going to be amazing.”


Peggy has to admit, being a cat isn’t that bad. She got fed three times a day,- she had made it very clear that no one in the apartment was going to eat cat food, especially herself - cuddles whenever she wanted it - and sometimes when she didn’t.

She also got to sleep in to whenever she wanted, but she missed being her two legged self. She missed being able to communicate, whether it was just saying “Yes sir,” or “Food was here.”

She missed it terribly and still had no idea how she was going to get back to normal. Even if she did manage to figure out a way back, where was she going to find someone capable of doing it? Peggy was a cat. If it wasn’t a dog or the kids on the street that got to her, it’d be a car.

She could slowly feel herself losing hope.


Angie comes barreling into the apartment one night after work, muttering under her breathe and slamming things around.
Peggy’s already on her paws, winding around Angie’s ankles and meowing in question, head nuzzling her shin when she glances down, the scowl playing on her face turning into a soft smile.

“Just some jackass at work, English.” She answers her, eyes narrowing slightly as she mentally replays what had happened down at the diner. “Asking me if I knew the difference between real eggs and powdered ones. Wish I dropped his food on the floor, I could have asked him if he knew the difference between eggs from a pan and eggs from a dirty tile.”

Angered on Angie’s part, Peggy grabs her shoelace and tugs until the woman follows, letting out a chuckle when she flops onto the couch where she’d been dragged to, arms already open to catch her when she jumps onto her lap.

She begins to purr shamelessly when Angie buries her face into her side, gentle fingers scritching at her chin and behind her ear.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” the woman coos, pressing kisses to her face and neck.

It’s only right to return the kiss, even if all Peggy does is lick at Angie’s nose bashfully.


Peggy knows there’s no way around it. To all extents and purposes, Angie thought she was an animal that didn’t have any high brain functions like a human would. It only made sense that she’d be comfortable in walking around in the nude or in her undergarments, chatting away animatedly as she did.

Peggy would try and give her some privacy, even if it was just her hiding under the bed when it was down, or curled up on a chair with her eyes screwed shut. But Angie, like any normal person would when their pet goes suspiciously quiet, would go looking her before giving her a weird look, when Peggy refused to open her eyes or budge from her hiding spot.

Like right now for instance.

“What has gotten into you?” She scowls, hands on hips.

She knows because Peggy had chanced a look and only found smooth, bare skin and an untied robe, before she shut her eyes again. She didn’t know if all cats could blush, but this one certainly could.

Silence stretches between them before Peggy hears Angie snort loudly. “Are you - are you trying not to stare at me?”

Well, when someone says it like that, Peggy thinks hotly, opening her eyes and glaring in the hopes to get across how not funny this was. Her gaze stays firmly locked with Angie’s. It wasn’t natural in wanting to lick every inch of skin now on display when living as a cat. If she were human, that’d be a whole different kettle of fish.

Ugh, cat puns, really?

Angie covers herself with the robe and ties its strings into a neat bow. “Well, I need to do this au naturale, so your delicate insecurities are just gonna have to suck it up for one night.”

Intrigued, Peggy follows when the woman turns to leave, finds crystals of different shapes and colors strewn across the paneled floor in front of the coffee table, a heavy book placed between two scented candles. She can smell sage in the air and a sense of calm takes over her from the scent.

What she sees next nearly sends Peggy into cardiac arrest.


So yes, witches were a real thing.

And Angie just happened to be one.

Peggy has the chance to turn herself back to a human but she has no idea of how she’s going to ask for help. Added to that, is the fact that Angie will realize she wasn’t a cat all along and probably curse her again for the looking at her naked thing.

But Peggy has to risk it. She has her opportunity and she’d be stupid not to take it.

It’s that reason alone that finds her slowly and immaculately spelling out “Please help. Stuck as a cat.” with her cat food before meowing loudly enough to grab Angie’s attention from reading a book.

After several minutes of screaming and denial, Angie finally settles down on her knees in front of Peggy, looks her dead in the eye and asks, “Did another witch curse you?”

Peggy nods.

“God, this is insane.” The woman mutters, before her eyes go wide with realization. “Is that why you always hid from me when I wasn’t dressed?”

Another nod.

A blush takes over Angie’s cheeks and Peggy fights against the urge to climb up into her arms and lap at her face in comfort. She doesn’t think the other woman would appreciate that very much, not now anyway.

“Let’s just get this over with so I can go die from mortification in peace.”

Peggy watches as the woman reaches out her hand, her pointer and middle finger landing directly in the center of her forehead. She begins to mutter under her breathe and the scent of sage captures her attention, before there’s the same sucking sensation in her stomach and then she’s face planting into the wooden panels on the floor beneath them.


“I really am sorry,” Peggy apologies for the fifth time. “If I had known you were a witch, I would have asked for help a lot sooner.”

Angie had helped her to her feet, a warm hand cupping her elbow when she stumbled from the accumulation of walking and standing on two feet instead of four paws.

She had avoided her eyes though when she assisted her into getting into the bathtub, the action sending a flash of hurt through Peggy’s chest. She didn’t want to be one of the people that had hurt Angie. She had already a long list of those and she definitely wanted no part of it.

“It’s okay. It’s not every day you adopt a cat that turns into a person from England.” Angie soothes, finally glancing up at her, the door in one hand and the other resting on the jamb. “It’ll make a good story one day.”

Peggy winces, lost for words. She brushes invisible lint from the clothes she borrowed from the woman before her, in the hopes to distract herself from the terrifying notion that she’ll never see Angie again.

An awkward silence fills between them, so much so that Peggy just blurts out, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Ah, yeah, yeah.” Angie agrees with a jerky nod. “Nice to meet you, Eng- I mean Miss Carter.”

Before she can reply, the door is closed and Angie is gone.


“If you don’t go in there, I will.” Dum-Dum says, cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth.

She glares straight ahead. “I will, I’m just working up to it.”

“Never thought I’d see the day where Peggy Carter was afraid.” He chuckles, throwing a casual arm around her shoulders when she doesn’t so much as shift her weight. “I can add that with I never thought witches were real and witches are capable of turning my friends into cute kitty cats.”

“I’m not afraid and I certainly wasn’t cute, so shut it.” She says, turning her glare at him.

Like Angie had said, it did make a good story one day. After shocking the color from the Howling Commandos’s faces, explaining what had really happened and how she came back, everyone had taken a vow of silence to not mention the words that had been shared between cat-her when the boys thought she was gone. She wasn’t the only one in wanting to keep what was left of their dignity.

“Well, you’re certainly still here and not talking to a gorgeous brunette,” Dum-Dum retorts, poking her in the ribs. “And I’m sorry to say, you did make a cute kitty. If we weren’t on the battlefield more times than not, we would have adopted you and kept you as a Howling Commandos mascot.”

She’s not sure if she should be flattered or insulted.

There’s a not so gentle nudge to her back.
“Come on Peggs, go and talk to her.” He encourages with a grin. “You’ve been downright miserable for the past three weeks moping after her and I bet my hat that she was too.”

“I was a cat!” She snaps, throwing her hands up in the air. “How could she mope after an animal?”

“You’re not gonna find out standing on the sidewalk and staring at her through the window.”

Agreeing with him, Peggy takes a deep breathe in and before she backs out, walks over to the door to the diner, walks in and immediately sits down at a booth.

The scent of sage hits her first and then it’s Angie’s voice asking, “Welcome, what can I get - Miss Carter?”

Her smile is a little unsure when she stares up into clear blue eyes. “You don’t have to call me that.”

“Then what would you prefer I call you?” Angie says, raising an eyebrow, a grin beginning to tug at her mouth.

“English is just fine.” Peggy answers, her own grin widening.


“Do you remember what I said to you when I brought you home for the first time?” Angie pants breathlessly, her hair a tousled mess and lips swollen.

Peggy traces lines over the bare skin of her hip, smiling softly when Angie snuggles in closely with a shiver, “You said it was going to be just you and me.”

“And I was right.” Angie murmurs, wrapping her arms around Peggy’s waist, lips brushing over her shoulder lightly before her mouth. “It is just you and me and it’s amazing.”