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𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉 𝙈𝙊𝙑𝙄𝙀.

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘: The Carter Clause

𝐔𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐘 ─ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝟏𝟓 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔

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☆

The persistent exaggerated sighs of another human in the corner of the room would have annoyed Tony Stark two hours ago. He hated when people lingered while he worked. However, there was one sole exception to that clause: Lizzie Carter—or, as he liked to call it, the Carter Clause seeing as he also enjoyed when Sammy Carter came to visit and tried to shove everything he could get his sticky hands on into his mouth. A literary vomit of homework was sprawled out in front of her on the floor, her legs making a V as she tried to navigate the millions of things in front of her all while babysitting a pot of dirt with a small sprout coming out of it. Tony couldn't help but look up from his hologram every few minutes to see her glaring at the thing like she was waiting for it to miraculously turn into a palm tree.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing something more life-changing to save our planet than watching a beanstalk grow in dirt? I'm pretty sure I put funding into your school's program for something more than that. The 'Greatest Young Minds' were supposed to come out of your school. Not Jack Spriggins."

"You'd think so, but apparently the life cycle of a flower is just as important as the growing issues of climate change in our society," she said as she threw her notebook to the side, and then gave him a look. "School teaches me nothing important. My generation could overthrow the government using Twitter quicker than they could understand what the Dewey Decimal Classification was...and it's a petunia. Not a beanstalk. Peter named her Padme."

Tony's brows raised. "Peter?"

"Parker. He's scared of me."

"What'd you do to him?"

"Opened my mouth."

"Makes sense," Tony nodded. "Peter Parker is your plant partner?"

"Peter Parker is my petunia plant partner. Say that ten times fast," Lizzie added, her lip twitching as they met mischievous stares. After a moment, she dropped her head back down to look at her phone, checking for any notification from Sharon or the rest of her family. Nothing.

Tony wasn't stupid. He'd noticed how she checked it every few minutes and the look of disappointment when she didn't see what she was hoping for. "Any update?"

"They tried to take her to the hospital since she hasn't been eating, but she refused treatment. My dad booked a flight out to London for us this weekend to see her. I'm taking off school on Friday and missing one of my games. Coach cleared me..." she hesitated, her hands to slide the dog tags on her necklace back and forth "...I haven't lost anyone before. Not like...not like this. I feel like I should be grieving more, or doing something, but...it just doesn't feel real, you know? And I don't know how to make sense of it."

"The harder you try to, the less you'll understand it. It's been years since I lost my parents, and I wake up every day looking for a purpose or reason why," he said, meeting her eyes across the room and giving her a helpless shrug of the shoulder. "You may not cry, Lizzie. You may not feel anything, and you might feel guilty about that, but it's normal. My therapist called it 'part of the grieving process' whatever the hell that means...just know you've got a lot of people looking out for you."

Ever since Lizzie found out about her aunt, she'd been in an odd state of mind. Part of her wanted to continue life as usual, pretending like everything was fine, and the other half of her wanted to hide under her covers for the next ten years. The feeling was going around. Sharon walked around the apartment like a zombie, constantly calling the living center Aunt Peggy was at for updates, and her father was taking up extra hours at work to hide his grief. Steve was the one Lizzie worried about. The two of them had barely talked about anything recently—he was avoiding the topic, not that she was any better, because the moment they talked about it, they had to accept it. Steve and Lizzie knew only the other would make that fact sink in.

She let out a loud sigh before she pushed herself up off the ground, wincing when she heard something crack loudly. She made her way over to Tony to bring some feeling back into her legs, squinting curiously at the prototype he had on the hologram in front of him. "What are you working on?"

"Updates to Rhodey's suit," he said, then he slid his finger to the side. He gladly accepted the change of topic. "I've been trying different elements on the designs to get a more fluid aerodynamic to the power shifters. I upgraded my reactor to use a new element arc to try and increase the power distribution, but I wanted to see if I could use the modular extension of my old suit and put it in Rhodey's to make the flight more stable."

Lizzie pursed her lips, tilting her head as she looked at the prototype. "Did you take the old repulsor and test it out with the new element arc? Maybe instead of having two new designs you could try and use one of the older designs. You could also probably get a better power distribution if you just upgrade the repulsor blasts and keep the old repulsor."

Anyone else in the world who happened to stumble in on their conversation would be staring blankly, save for Bruce Banner perhaps, at the two of them as they talked about the components of Tony's suit. Tony hummed at her suggestion before making some adjustments, and Lizzie was about to walk back to her homework when she was suddenly stopped as another hologram popped up.

"Synthetic fibers. I was able to add some chemical components of para-aramid fibers and elastane to the polyvinyl chloride so that they would react and reattach together," he explained casually, narrowing in. "The same fibers that you would see in—"

"Kevlar," she finished, then she turned her eyes away and to Tony. "Who is this for? Wanda? Nat?"

The hologram in front of her was a black spandex suit, similar in some aspects to what she'd seen Natasha wear for her Black Widow alias, just like she'd seen Sharon wear in certain dark ops missions for S.H.I.EL.D.. Unlike theirs, pieces of the quarter-zip chest piece were lined with dark blue into the center, taking on the appearance of lace overtop. There were also no tactical pieces around the waist, only one going around the shoulder and connecting to a thigh holster. Fingerless gloves were attached, and when she squinted, she realized that there actually was fabric there, but they were finger tabs, similar to what someone would use if they were an—

Archer. Lizzie's face dropped in disbelief and recognition. "Is this..."

"Yours?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He turned to look at her, grinning proudly. "I've been working on different prototypes for the last few months. This is Prototype Ten point Five, also known as The Blindspot Project...cute, right? The mask is a little bit too Violet from The Incredibles for me, but I used the Photostatic Veil from S.H.I.E.L.D. and Selwyn's research. There's a small piece attached to the wrist right....here," he pointed at the small, concealable section where a button was attached, "and you can change your appearance like some of the agents used to do on undercover missions. It will conceal your features and voice, but we'll have to set up the program to what you decide—"

Before Tony could continue to say anything, there was a loud shrieking sound coming out of the teenage girl's body that he'd never heard come out of anything in his life, and then arms were wrapping around his neck and dragging him down to her level of height. Tony choked out dramatically as he patted her back. "Okay. Okay, wow, you're stronger than you look... you're strangling me—"

"Oh, sorry!" she pulled away quickly, and then looked over at the suit again with doe-eyed excitement. "You're joking, right? Like...this is mine?"

Tony looked down at her with raised eyebrows. "One day."

Lizzie deflated slightly when she heard those words, having been told them her whole life. She glanced over at the suit, which felt like it belonged to her, and something suddenly felt different. The questions and concerns she'd had about training, wondering if she'd ever be ready to join the life that Steve and the others ran headfirst into...all of that disappeared as she looked at the hologram, a fire lit underneath her with a burning desire to make this happen.

"You called it The Blindspot Project," she realized.

"Did you have any other suggestions? I thought Lady Liberty could be fun—"

Lizzie blinked at the suit again, and she shook her head slowly. "No. Blindspot's perfect."

"Captain Overprotective doesn't know about this. He may actually start World War Three if he found out I was encouraging this lifestyle for you—which, just so we're clear, will not be a consideration until you are at least eighteen—or of legal age to drive a car—or drink alcohol—" he paused, narrowing his eyes at Lizzie for a moment to see her scowling at him like a kid having their candy ripped away. "I will not be endorsing superheroes under the age of eighteen. Carter or not. I've got enough on my plate with the Spider-Thing swinging around New York City—"

Lizzie stopped. "What?"

"What?" he asked when she interrupted him, squinting at her.

"You just insinuated that the Spider-Thing was under the age of eighteen."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did," she argued, and then her eyes widened when Tony went to protest again. "Oh. My. God. You know who he is! Who is he? Do I know him? I'm the one who told you about him! You can't keep his identity from me! That's not fair!"

Tony turned on his heel quickly to get away from her. "I can neither confirm nor deny any—"

"Nu uh! You can't just keep me out of the loop! So what, he's underage? Is he like, seventeen years old?" she asked, following after him. When he shot a look at her over his shoulder, she continued. "No. He's younger? He's at least older than thirteen. He's got to be. You'd never let a kid that young be swinging around stopping busses—so what, is he my age?"

"Elizabeth, go babysit your plant."

She stopped, crossing her arms over her chest. "He's my age, isn't he?"

"You're going to lose custody over Padme for neglecting it. Peter Parker is going to take your petunia from you," Tony said nonchalantly, and then he continued until he was halfway up the steps, leaving Lizzie alone to think about the fact that, not only did Tony know who Spider-Man was, but he was also her age.

"Wait but—!"

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𝟐𝟎 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 & 𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘

"All I'm saying is, it's stupid."

"It's not stupid. It's the depth of artistic will and the representation of humanity—"

"It's just a comic book—"

"'Just a comic book!'"

Lizzie's eyes were stuck on the scene across the cafeteria, her pen tapping anxiously on the table while her friends argued with one another. Only when Lizzie abruptly shot up, her palms slapping on the table, did the three of them look up in surprise. Eli's eyes widened when he realized where she was headed, him and Art darting anxious glances back and forth from their best friend over to Taylor, who snorted at the scene in front of her.

"Oh, God. Are we going to stop her?" Art rambled, turning to look specifically at Taylor. She only shrugged, turning back around. "No, seriously. Are we going to stop her? Because I know she has close ties to the school or whatever, but if she gets into a fight—"

Taylor waved him off. "She's fine. He deserves it."

"When the hell did Lizzie become friends with Peter Parker?"

"He's her petunia partner. I think she feels responsible for him. You know, like a puppy."

Eli continued to stare ahead. "That's humiliating."

"Oh okay. I'll remember that next time she saves your ass when Conner comes asking you to deep-clean all of his jerseys because his shoulder is 'sore' from sitting on the bench for seven innings," Taylor retorted, sending him a look before she turned around again to see what was happening. "I wish we were closer. I want to hear it."

"Lucy O'Hare is recording it right now."

"Oh, beautiful. God I love that girl."

"You've hated her since the third grade—"

"Shut up, Eli. I'm trying to watch."

On the opposite side of the cafeteria was Flash Thompson cackling at Peter Parker's cafeteria table, the latter minding his business and talking with his best friend while Flash continued to egg him on. The daily scene of Peter being Flash's human punching bag came as no surprise to anyone. Lizzie had seen videos surface and float around Midtown, but she'd never been physically present to watch Flash bully Peter. She'd rather roll over and die than see him be treated like that by anyone, especially in front of a crowd of people, and knowing Peter now only made her even more enraged. She was already having a pretty shit week, so at least there was one thing she could do to make herself feel better.

"Hey, Eugene."

Flash whirled his head around at the sound of his real name. His narrowed eyes widened when he saw her standing behind him. "Lizzie? Wha—"

"You're in my way," she said bluntly, nodding at the seat he stood in front of across from where Peter was seated. "Can you move?"

"You want to sit with him?" Flash asked, his emphasis on the words insinuating his disbelief. "What, is this your charity work for the week or something?"

"No, that would be talking to you, Eugene. Please move."

Flash had to take a moment to realize what she'd just said, but there were snickers from the cafeteria tables nearby. Lizzie's patience was lacking and she carefully pushed by Flash, being sure to hit his shoulder hard on her way past, knocking him back a couple feet. Pitiful, really. Then she plopped down into the seat across from Peter, reaching immediately for one of the fries on his tray, nearly gagging when she noticed how soggy and stale they were. They also tasted frostbitten. She let the fry fall from her mouth, ignoring the voice of her mother shouting "MANNERS!" in the back of her mind.

"You'd think they'd have better food if they can afford all of the electronics. I mean, we literally get upgrades to our fields every day and flat screen TVs in the middle of our hallways but apparently the nutritional value of the food we consume on a daily basis is irrelevant..." she paused in her rant when she realized that Peter was staring at her like she had two heads, Ned with half of a fry in his wide-open mouth. "What?"

"I'm in love with you," Ned blurted out immediately, and then when he realized what he said, his eyes widened significantly, his mouth dropping even wider if that were humanly possible.

Lizzie grinned over at him. "Thank you. So, Peter, I was thinking—"

"Why did you just do that?" Peter suddenly asked, breaking out of his string of silence to interrupt her. She frowned, sitting up straighter to look at him in confusion. "You...why are you defending me? You didn't even know my name until last week."

"Actually, I knew your name the first week of school because we were in the same break-out group, but that doesn't matter. I would've defended you regardless of knowing you or not. Besides, that was more Flash getting what he deserved...nicely. I had a lot more things to say but my mom would have put soap in my mouth," she said, smiling at him. When he still did not look convinced, her face fell. "I have a friend who was bullied half of his life. He means a lot to me. I would've wanted someone to help him out if they had the opportunity instead of just watching."

Peter's lips pursed together. He was still indifferent, especially because having someone else fight his battles for him was not necessarily something he enjoyed. Lizzie must have noticed because she raised her eyebrows at him. "What? Please don't tell me you feel emasculated because a girl just defended you."

"What?" he asked instantly, his features rising at the assumption. "No. I don't care about that. It's just, um...no one's ever done that for me. I don't know what to say to you."

"I'm not asking for a thank you, Peter. We're partners, right? That's what back-up is for."

She was so nonchalant about the situation that the resurface of intimidation and discomfort was felt on Peter's end. He'd still only had a handful of conversations with her, and every single time he did, she only left him more confused. Granted, he'd had a pretty sturdy idea of who Lizzie Carter was before he'd ever met her, and she only continued to go against those predispositions any chance she could—but still, rooted in the back of Peter Parker's mind, he could not for the life of him understand why Lizzie Carter was acting like a friend. They were partners in Biology. He'd had many lab partners in the past, and none of them defended him like she had. They went on with their day after class and pretended they'd never met one another a day in their life. Why was she different?

"So, Lizzie, do you have a game today?" Ned asked, his doe-eyed glances being picked up on when he leaned further against the cafeteria table near her.

She turned to look at him, shaking her head. "Not today, no. We have practice, but our next game isn't until this weekend. I'm not playing, though."

"Why?" Peter asked without thinking.

A flicker of a darker emotion was seen in Lizzie's features at his question. Peter noticed the way her face fell and the persistent grin disappeared. For a moment, he felt like he was seeing a glimpse of something she never showed anyone, but it was gone before he could ever figure out what exactly that something was. She quickly returned back to her usual state, a smile tugging on her lips again, and that left Peter momentarily stunned at how well she'd just recovered from whatever had stunted her before. Jesus, was she a robot?

"Sorry, partner. We're not that close yet. You guys should come to a game sometime, though."

Ned, who didn't notice a single anomaly in her, nodded eagerly. "Yes. Yes, yes we will. We'll be there. Won't we, Peter?"

"Uh," Peter wanted to protest because sitting on cold bleachers for two hours didn't sound fun at all to him, around people yelling about a foul ball or lay-up, or whatever they did in softball, but he stopped when he saw the pleading look Ned gave him. "Yeah. We, uh, we'll come to your next game. Whenever you play again."

"Great! I'm number three. Centerfield," she smiled, and then she glanced over her shoulder to see her friends staring at her expectantly. "Alright, well I'm going to head back to my table. It was good talking to you guys. I'll text you my schedule for our upcoming home games in a few, Peter."

"Okay."

Lizzie got up and walked back to her lunch table with her three friends. Peter stared after her for a second, his lips still twisted in confusion as he tried to figure the girl out. Ned, on the other hand, was gaping at Peter like he'd grown ten heads in a matter of seconds. "You have her number?!"

Peter glanced over at him in confusion. "What? Yeah. We're lab partners. We have to talk about the project."

"You...have...Lizzie Carter's...number...how are you so calm about this?! Look at her! She's perfect, Peter! Oh my God, I'm going to marry her. I'm telling you now—" Ned rambled on, practically drooling after her as she walked away from them "—did you hear her? She wants me at her game. Should I, like, make posters? Is that a thing?"

"I think she said 'you guys should come' but—"

Ned let his head fall on his hand, gawking at her. "She digs me."

"Right, but did you see the way she reacted when I asked—"

"Should I get a jersey with her number on it? I feel like she was insinuating it when she told me her number. Right? Right?"

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𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐋𝐘𝐍, 𝐍𝐘 ─ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊

Lizzie picked at the piece of pizza on her lap, the grease coating her fingers the longer she messed around with it instead of actually eating it. Her coach would have her running miles if she found out that she was eating so unhealthy, but thankfully, she wasn't playing that weekend so she would only feel the urge to vomit a little tomorrow and all would be well again in the world until she wanted french fries again. Ahead of her were kids messing around on the basketball court, the shit-talking and banter normally amusing her, but today she was more focused on the thoughts inside of her head. Prospect Park was on her way home to her and Sharon's apartment, and on the days when she'd elect to walk home instead of being picked up or taking the bus, she'd stop by just to think.

She, however, was not stupid enough to think that her overbearing and hovering parents (all twenty of them) would just let her walk home alone. Steve probably had Tony set every single traffic camera to watch her on her way or something dramatic like that. Not that she couldn't take care of herself without someone constantly swooping in to save her every time she got a paper cut. Those instincts she'd honed in on in the last few years were the reason why she stiffened when she realized that there were footsteps coming up behind her on the park bench. Slowly, she put the pizza down next to her and ripped out her headphones, her muscles tensing as she waited.

Two seconds later, there was a loud sound of giggling before two young kids darted ahead of her, screaming "You're it!" on their way. Lizzie relaxed, her shoulders falling heavier than she'd realized when they'd gone up in defense. But then someone sat down next to her and her arm went out fast, a hand stopping her wrist before she could get it outstretched.

"MJ."

Steve's blue eyes stared back at her, his hold on her wrist tightening momentarily as he waited for her to adjust to the present. When Lizzie realized that it was only him, she relaxed again, swallowing hard and letting her limb fall slack. Steve released it, and she clenched her jaw immediately, turning to look back at the kids in front of them. The only thing coursing in her head was fuck, because not only were her reactions delayed, but they indicated to Steve that something else was wrong.

Steve relaxed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, his ball cap preventing anyone from noticing his identity. "How'd practice go today?"

"There's an incoming freshman next year that Coach likes for my position. I just found out today," she explained, pursing her lips as she watched one of the boys run after the basketball. "People are saying that she'll probably be put on the JV team, but I don't know. Coach has been scouting for varsity players. C.T. is going to be team captain next year, so I'm sure she'll screw me over. Doesn't help that we only have a handful of games left and if we don't win these next two then we're not going to state—and I won't even be there for one of them."

Steve was quiet, noticing the distaste in her voice as she spoke, picking up on every little hint of body language about the girl next to him. She may be better at disguising certain parts of her mood, but he knew her better than that. He sighed and leaned forward, his hands going out of his pockets and clasping together against his legs in front of him. Lizzie's eyes flickered over to him at the action. With his head ducked low, something switched in her. Concern lit up her body and she focused solely on him.

"I've been avoiding you," she admitted.

"I know."

"You've also been avoiding me."

Steve's head lifted and he glanced in her direction, his lip quirking into a defeated half smile. "I know that too."

"People around school have been talking more about those Sokovia Accords. International oversight? Twitter is blowing up with all of these polls about whether or not you guys should be held accountable for what happened in Lagos. Most people agree that it's the government who should be. This political correspondent or whatever says that they are still digging through the leaks from the SHIELD dumb...D.C. is finally cleaned up, you know? They mentioned Monroe the other day. On the news."

Ian Monroe disappeared from Lizzie's life after the events that happened three years ago in Washington, and that was entirely her doing. Sharon reinforced the incident report to her written about Monroe's involvement with HYDRA, database research on his personal laptop showing recovered files of him spying on S.H.I.E.L.D. agents he knew were involved with Project Insight that later turned out to be HYDRA spies. He had been trying to rewrite the algorithm, to put all of the targets on the list on a protective detail instead. He'd been doing his own undercover operations, and no one—not even Fury—knew about it. But it was the cost of Lizzie's trust that he lost, and the fight they'd gotten into suffered in her nightmares just like the scar on her knee where she'd injured it during their fight.

"It's not good," he began, clearing his throat. "What happened in Lagos...it shouldn't have happened. That's on me, but these Accords—"

"How is what happened on you, Steve? You had no way of knowing what was going to happen. Maybe Wanda shouldn't have been out in the field yet, and maybe there should be consequences for the deaths of those people, but you can't put every life lost in that building on you. You got Rumlow. You saved lives by getting rid of him for good."

The change of tone in Lizzie's voice at the mention of the man made Steve's frown settle deeper. Hate that had no place in her gentle heart. Hate that carried with her through the years. He had no regrets killing him. Not one at all, especially not when Rumlow had mentioned two of the most important people in Steve's life right before he died. The words were stuck in his head every second of the day, echoing on repeat the longer he sat on them without telling anyone.

His brows stitched together in thought, losing distance between himself and reality for a moment. "Before he died, he said something to me...he said Bucky remembered—that day when I first saw him, first realized he was alive...he remembered me, and they wiped him again right after. Rumlow was there."

"...what?"

"He remembered. And they took that from him. Again, and again, and he still saved my life that day..." Steve paused, peering over at the chain around Lizzie's neck. "He still saved yours. He didn't even know you, MJ. He's out there somewhere, and I'm not going to stop until I find him."

"So don't stop," she answered quickly, shaking her head. "Don't stop looking for him."

"I was in Lagos for him. If I had been distracted...if Rumlow hadn't mentioned him—"

"Don't do that to yourself, Steve. Don't," her features were furrowed on her face, muscles tightening on command. He refused to look at her. "You're putting this on yourself because that's the kind of man you are, but you don't deserve to fall under that weight. It'll kill you."

"You sound like her."

Lizzie froze. Of all the things she had been preparing to come out of Steve's mouth next, that was not one of them. A lump appeared in her throat, her eyes suddenly burning at the sudden shift of conversation—she refused to cry. She'd spent so long crying, and she was all dried up. Steve must have noticed that she was too quiet because his head raised. Just one look at each other, and they knew that they were approaching the conversation they'd been avoiding.

"I'm angry—" she blurted out suddenly, her nose scrunching as she felt it burn against the tears "—I'm trying really hard to pretend like I'm fine, Steve, but how is it fair that she gets stuck with this shitty end of the stick? She has saved so many lives, done so much for this world, and she gets taken out by this? How is that fair? She's not going to be there for Sharon to get married, won't see my cousins have kids, and she won't be there to see..."

She stopped talking all of a sudden, her throat closing up and preventing her from saying the words that she'd been afraid of admitting for days now. Steve knew where she was going with her next sentence, though. "She knows the woman you're going to become, MJ. She sees it clear as day."

"You don't know that," she disagreed quietly, her brows furrowing in denial.

Steve sat up straight and turned to her completely. "Lizzie, you should hear the way she talks about you—about your potential, how she knows you're going to be great at whatever you do—I argued with her about it for thirty seconds before I realized I was fighting a losing battle. She's always known you would grow up to be strong. You are a reflection of her. How could you not be?"

Steve had already been prepared for the tears when they started to come down. He shifted the pizza to the side quickly, closing the distance between himself and her to wrap his arm around her shoulders. She instantly ducked her head to the side, the tears coming down faster than she could wipe them away, but he never left her side—it was both of their hearts breaking on that park bench, and Steve doing everything possible to help heal Lizzie's.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye, Steve," came pitifully out of her mouth, cracking against the sobs wracking through her body. "I'm not ready to let her go."

Steve's eyes prickled with tears and he squeezed her tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she cried in her arms. "Neither am I, MJ. I never will be."

But more than anyone, the two of them knew that you don't always get what you want in this life.

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Author's Note:

Brb while I cry. A lot happened in this chapter, whether it seemed like it or not! We got a more in-depth look in the relationship between Tony and Lizzie, which I absolutely love, and probably most exciting of all—LIZZIE HAS A SUIT IN THE MAKING. I hope that it made sense and you guys were able to visualize it. I didn't want to make it too extravagant, but I definitely felt like the change-of-appearance piece was necessary. What do you think about her suit?

Also!!! Her and Peter!! I'm really excited for the development of their relationship in this story. They're really starting from the beginning here, and I know some stories have instant feelings between their characters, but I wanted to make it a slow-burn and friendship/partnership between them before feelings came along. Ned, however, is very much in love with Lizzie.

Her and Steve ): I've missed writing them. They were such a core part of the first part of this story because it focused on the development of their relationship, and things are a bit different in this one. We're seeing more of Lizzie's life outside of Steve, so he won't be in the chapters as much as the first part—but I want to make sure that I'm reinforcing their close bond. Hopefully it was received from this scene.

As always, let me know what you thought! I appreciate your love. Comments are my favorite and I read every single one of them!