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"Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood."

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꧁꧂

"This is him," Agent Kenobi dropped a thin file onto the desk, before sitting in the chair straight across from me.

I opened the file and my eyes landed on a handsome blonde with piercing blue eyes, "Anakin Skywalker," I mumbled his name as I began to read through the very little facts they had about him, "What exactly do you suspect he's guilty of?" I asked, not seeing anything about it in the paperwork.

"We have reason to believe he's using his clubs to launder money, there's no way he's making as much as he is off of drunken imbeciles." He slid  the file from me and closed it with a heavy sigh, "And his name has come up quite a few times over the past couple of years from the mouths of others involved in laundering, but not a single soul has handed us enough to warrant an arrest."

I nodded as I leaned back in the chair, "How do you think he's getting all this money then? Drugs?" That's how most of these crime lords earn their keep, illegal drug distributions. There are many other ways as well, but that one had to be at the top of the list.

Kenobi sighed as he rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples, soothing a headache with closed eyes, "I don't know, that's what you'll be going in to find out. Your job is to gain proof that not all the money he's bringing in is from the clubs earnings, and also how he's getting these large amounts of money."

"I can do that," I assured him, although I'll admit I was nervous to take on such an important task, but this was my opportunity to prove myself so I was going to give it my all, "And how much extra earnings are we talking?"

Kenobi opened his eyes and met mine with a stern gaze, "Millions Mrs.(y/l/n), this man is racking up millions."

꧁꧂

The busy night was finally over, but the harder part was yet to come, and it's what I was dreading the most; the clean-up.

Piett had disappeared upstairs to his own office with the receipts that noted all the clubs earrings from today. I was itching to drop everything and go up there for a little investigating, to see if I can somehow gain proof that they're fabricating their books. But I couldn't just yet, not only was it too early to make a move as big as that—since I'm sure that by being new I'm being watched like a hawk—but also because Aaron was here and I couldn't risk being noticed poking my nose where it doesn't belong.

He was walking around the club; collecting the glass cups and placing them in a gray bin. He would occasionally travel to the back kitchen area and empty the bin into the sinks for the dishwashers, before returning to get more. I still didn't understand why they won't use plastic disposable cups; it'd be one hell of a time saver, and a lot less inconvenient. Besides, who would want to drink from a cup that hundreds have drunk out of previously?

But as Aaron did that, I was behind the bar; cleaning the glass counter that had just about every alcohol in the club spilt onto it. Even the sweets ones, leaving an annoying sticky residue on certain spots.

And there was one spot that was being more stubborn than the rest and I was scrubbing it with all my might; but nothing was working. The pink area that I was beginning to suspect was melted candy remained unfazed by my attempts, "What the fuck," I mumbled to myself in annoyance, "How did this even-"

"You're going to scratch the glass."

I froze at the voice, before slowly looking up and meeting a pair of blue eyes looking down at me. This was my fist time seeing him stand and he was much taller than I thought he'd be. He would tower over Connor and about ninety percent of the men in my department, easily.

I did my best to hold back an eye roll that was scratching at the surface—I was still mad about his little stunt earlier—and stopped the scrubbing, "Sorry sir, it's just not coming off." I dropped the sponge, trying my best to be as respectful as possible since getting fired for making snarky comments, was not an option for me.

I just needed to act like any normal bartender would with their boss.

"I know, that spot is always there, so just leave it," Skywalker spoke in a monotone before looking away from me and leaning over the bar to grab a clean glass cup from underneath. He then set it in front of me, "Let's try this again newbie, make me an old fashioned." He demanded, taking a seat on one of the stools that I had just cleaned.

"A please would suffice," I mumbled too low for him to hear.

"Please." He added, causing me to stiffen - or so I thought I said it too low for him not to hear.

I awkwardly cleared my throat and grabbed the ingredients; the last one being the same Whiskey bottle that Piett had handed to me earlier.

As soon as his eyes landed on it, he stopped me before I could pour it into the measurer, "Now I see the issue, that's the wrong whiskey." He grabbed it from my hand and slid it to the side. I kept my eye on it to make sure it didn't slide off the bar, but it didn't, "That is bottom shelf, its for the poor fools that decide to come in here and waste away what little money they have on cheap liquor, and it tastes like sewage water," He rolled his eyes before directing them behind me, "Use that one instead." He pointed.

I turned my head to see what he was taking about, but there were more than a few different Whiskey bottles on the shelf so I wasn't sure which one he was referring to, "Which-"

"The one, with the black and red label." He interrupted and it was then that I took notice to  the one he was asking for.

I grabbed it as I wondered why Piett handed me the wrong bottle, but when I set the correct one down on the bar top - I understood. The bottles looked vastly similar with only a few minor differences in the colors. Only those paying attention would notice; which Piett wasn't, his mind was occupied by whatever was stealing away his attention earlier.

I laughed to myself as I eyed the bottle in my hand, then began to pour the two ounces into the glass. So it wasn't my fault, I was just never told which whiskey he prefers.

"What's so funny?" He asked, sounding curious.

As I added the extra elements to his drink I said, "This whole time I thought I was somehow the problem, but it turns out, Piett just handed me the wrong bottle." I slid the glass to him, and he caught before wrapping his hand around it and bringing it to his lips.

He took a drink and I stood there, patiently waiting to see if it was to his liking. But it was hard to tell, even after he brought the cup down and I was able to see the entirety of his face - I couldn't figure out what he was thinking. There was no grimace, but there was also no expression of satisfaction.

"Well," He finally spoke as he stood up from the bar stool and the glass back up; finishing the rest of the drink with ease, "I guess I owe you an apology then Ms.Winters." He set it inside of the gray bin that Aaron was carrying, just as he walked by, "It tasted perfect." His ocean gaze met mine and I took notice to them straying downwards; clearly checking me out.

"Not necessary," I smiled politely, a few words Kenobi said to me being stuck in my mind in this moment.

"Try to be liked, the more any of them like you, the easier gaining their trust will be and trust is vital in this investigation. Trust means more freedom, and more freedom means having access to important information."

"I'm just glad it was finally to your liking." I added as I picked up the sponge to continue on with the clean-up.

"Still," He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. He then leaned forward; placing it in the pocket of my apron with his eyes on mine, "I'm sorry about earlier, you had caught me at a bad time. And please get yourself some new shoes; that cheap whiskey I spilt on them will eat right through those ones soon enough." He shot me a half smile before tapping his fingers on the bar, and turning away to go back up the stairs.

❦

I waltzed into my apartment after having a tiring walk home, and almost jumped out of my skin when I saw I wasn't alone, "Jesus." I brought my hand up to my chest, feeling my racing heart beat against my rib cage.

"Sorry," Agent Kenobi apologized as he sipped on a cup of tea, "I didn't meant to startle you."

I closed the door behind me with a scowl, "You're just lucky I don't have my gun on me." I walked forward and dropped my dirty apron onto the table before sitting in the wooden dining chair with a sigh.

He raised his brows, "Someone is being a little hostile, was it not a good day?"

I leaned my head back and started up at the ceiling, "It was fine, just long. Piett was happy with my performance, and Skywalker-"

"You were able to speak to him?" He asked, interrupting me.

"A little," I shrugged, "It wasmt about anything important, but I did get a small sense of his personality and he's definitely bipolar," I rolled my eyes before looking forward to meet his stern gaze that was urging me to tell him more, "One minute he's treating me like a slave and acting like an ass, then the next," I dug my fingers into the apron and pulled out the hundred dollar bill, "He's giving me this with an apology." I threw it and it landed on the table infront of him.

He picked up the money and examined it, "He personally handed this to you?" He questioned, flipping it over.

I nodded, "Yeah, maybe you can run the serial number and see if it's stolen or anything," Another possibility of acquiring large amounts of money; thievery, "Oh and I also got you this little present." I went back into the apron and pulled out the bag that contained the cup he had drunken out of. I snuck it when no one was looking. I set it down in the middle of the table and Kenobi's brows furrowed, "He drank from it," I informed him, "I figured you don't his DNA in any of your databases, so here you go, if you get lucky you may be able to link him to something and get a sense on how he's earning his keep."

The look on Kenobi's face showed me that he was impressed, and beyond happy, "Good work (y/n), this is really good work." He praised me with a smile as he grabbed the bag.

"It's only good work if you find anything of value." I said with a yawn.

"Still, even if we don't, you have quite an intellectual mind," He stood up from the chair and grabbed his coat from the back of it, "Quantico is gonna be lucky to have you when this is all over."

Now I was smiling and even feeling a little giddy, hearing that your dream is so close to your reach is one of the best things in the world, "Thank you Agent Kenobi-"

"Please," He waved his hand, "We've worked together long enough, call me Obi-Wan, you've more than earned it by now."

My smile widened, "Thank you Obi-Wan, and please be careful when you leave, try not to be seen."  He shouldn't even be here now, but I'm not surprised that he showed up. He was more eager about my first day than I was, "And next time let's resort to our planned meetings, having you come here is risky."

He nodded in agreement and placed his coat on, "I know, but I was anxious to hear about your success." He began to strut towards the front door and I stood up to walk him out so I could lock the door behind him, "I'll run these both tomorrow and contact you if I find anything," He informed me as he opened the door and peeked down each end of the hallways before stepping out.

"Make sure you call after two am, that's when I'll be here." I leaned in the doorway.

"Will do, and be safe there, we still don't know everything he's capable."

"I can handle myself sir, he doesn't scare me." I assured him confidently.

Obi-Wan smiled, "I know, that's why I chose you, everyone said you were tough."  He nodded once more as a goodbye before disappearing down the hallway, "Have a good night."

"You as well," I closed the door and locked it before leaning my forehead against it with a heavy sigh. He's right, I am tough, and I'm going to need to continue to remember that if I'm going to get through these next few months.

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Hope you liked it ❤️
Things will pick up soon I promise!
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