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The domestication of her new life back in New York was something (Y/N) wasn't sure she quite enjoyed yet. It was great being back at home after so long but she felt it wasn't right to be back to normal after such tragedies shook the world. Now, instead of waking up in the early hours of the morning, her alarm clock rang at a respectable hour so she could get ready for work.

(Y/N) grabbed a simple white blouse with a V-neckline and a dark green skirt to match with it. She stared at the mirror as she got herself ready and did her best to hide the scar that went up her thigh with her long skirt and her stockings. Every part of her routine was in a comfortable silence since she had nobody to talk to, the radio playing for just some background noise.

When they got back from London, (Y/N)'s old apartment had already been sold to someone else, and it was a complicated process to find another place to sleep in the crowded city of New York. Peggy had offered for her to stay with her and be roommates but (Y/N) declined the offer with the excuse that she didn't want to be a bother and rearrange everything in Peggy's life. In the end, (Y/N) wasn't sure how she stroke a reasonable deal with a landlord and was able to afford a simple apartment with enough space and at a fair distance from her job.

It was lonely, of course, but (Y/N) preferred the silence and her own company over the loud explosions and sounds of gunshots back during the war. There were moments where she found herself back in those woods or the debris-covered abandoned villages. There was even a time when she thought she heard someone laugh across the street with laughter that resembled either Steve or Bucky.

(Y/N) snapped away from her daze and sat back in her table with just one chair, grabbing the newspaper that someone had left on her doorstep. She fixed her coffee with one hand while the other opened the newspaper with the headline: Stark fails to convince, third day of testimony expected. Under it, a picture of Howard was placed with a similar headline attached to it, Captain America ally yet to explain weapons sale. She couldn't help but frown at the words and she hoped that today at work she would receive an explanation.

After finishing breakfast, (Y/N) did the rest of her mundane routine and before she knew it, it was time to leave her home. She went down the staircase ( because the elevator was out of service again ) and walked down 10 floors before reaching the lobby. People were already crowding the streets outside the building and it was still early on the day. (Y/N) did her best to push through the crowds as she mapped her own walk to her workplace, since catching a cab would be too difficult and would probably take more time.

(Y/N) rounded a street's corner and was forced to stop when cars flooded ahead of her on the road. She sighed impatiently, waiting for the sign to turn red again so she could pass.

"(Y/N)?" she heard a distant voice call. She didn't pay much attention to it and thought her brain was playing games with her.

But then, the voice returned.

"(Y/N) Dewitt? Is that really you?"

(Y/N) turned around and was faced with a grinning, blonde woman making her way over. Her arms were open in surprise as her figure became more visible to the eye. Her hair was in defined curls but what really stood out from her appearance was the small mole on her chin and her bright, red lips.

"Judy?"

She smiled even wider when her name was remembered. "It's been so long! How are you?"

"I've been good, how are you?"

If (Y/N) remembered correctly, Judy had been a high school classmate that she might've shared classes with. She wasn't sure if they could call themselves friends, but (Y/N) had helped Judy with her studies and the other way around. She might even recall Bucky trying to ask her to be his date to the school dance.

"Oh, you know, here and there," Judy brushed the words off with a hand and a giddy laugh. That's when (Y/N) noticed the glimmering diamond on her finger. "I got married."

(Y/N) couldn't help but feel happy for the woman. Although she hadn't even spared a thought about her until she called her name in the street, she could see the genuine happy glint in her eyes.

"Good for you."

"Have you landed a catch yourself?"

"Can't say that I have, no," (Y/N) shook her head with a fake disappointed look.

Judy smacked her lips together. "You'll find one, I'm sure of it, even if you're still glued to the hip with those two boys."

(Y/N) immediately froze at the mention of her friends. Her lips dropped the polite smile and remained stoic, although Judy didn't notice.

"I'm sorry, about Steve," she consoled in a much lower volume. Her hand reached out to grab (Y/N)'s in act of confidence and squeezed it. "I read about it in the papers."

"It's all right."

"How are Bucky and you holding up?"

Oh, the world sure hated her. ". . .Fine."

"You poor souls," Judy embraced (Y/N) in a hug, squeezing her with the same force as she had squeezed her hand. (Y/N) didn't know how to react; she was sure that if she said something, her voice might crack. "I'm here if you need anything."

"I'll keep that in mind, Judy."

The blonde pulled away from the hug and her sympathetic eyes didn't leave (Y/N)'s until she set her gaze back in her wristwatch.

"Oh! Look at the time!" she gasped in realization. "I better get going."

She was about to step away and leave to where she was headed, but another thought invaded her mind. "Where are you working now? So we can catch up some time?"

"The phone company," (Y/N) responded monotonously, and her weapon started feeling heavy in her purse. "But my boss has this strict policy. Keeps me in the office at irregular hours."

"Oh, it can't be that bad," Judy exclaimed with a hint of amusement. "It's just the phone company. You're not between life and death."

She had no idea.

"Yeah, but. . ." (Y/N) checked her own wristwatch this time as a way to escape the awkward conversation. "It's getting late for me too. I better get to work."

"That's a shame. Hope to see you again!"

"Me too."

With that, (Y/N) bid goodbye to Judy and crossed the street with her purse clutched tightly in her hands. She saw what she normally did on her way to work; more skyscrapers and buildings under construction. The city was changing and growing in front of her eyes, and it was a sight she sure enjoyed. She walked through one last street before the building she was searching for entered her line of sight, the words New York Bell Co. staring right back at her underneath a carving of a bell. It was a front, a cover for what the organization truly stood for, since (Y/N) couldn't go around telling her friends that she worked as an agent for a secret division.

(Y/N) checked the time again and figured she was two minutes earlier than normal, so she waited patiently near the door for the person she was waiting for to arrive.

"Good morning."

She turned around to find Peggy approaching her side, her own purse held against her fingers. (Y/N) grinned when she caught her eye. She wore a classic blue skirt with a matching blazer, but what stood out the most was her vibrant red hat.

During the last weeks when they came to work, they had come to an agreement to leave their respective apartments at approximately the same time to meet each other on the entrance. Neither of them liked entering the workplace by themselves, especially considering that they were the only two female agents in the division.

"Shall we go in?" the brunette inquired.

(Y/N) sighed, staring at the building once again. "We'll have to at some point."

Both women entered the front door in silence, greeting when it deemed necessary. To get to their floor they had to use the elevator, which took them to a long hallway filled with women sitting on two different rows of chairs. All of them had indistinct conversations, their headpieces on to muffle the exterior sounds and place attention to the phone calls they received. It reminded (Y/N) of her old job before joining the division.

"Good morning, Rose."

"Lot of hubbub today, ladies," Rose, a redhead woman sat in the last chair answered. Her glasses placed on the bridge of her nose. "D.C's line's hot."

Her eyes fell on Peggy. "Love the hat."

Rose pushed a button and the doors hiding the office opened wide. Once (Y/N) and Peggy stepped inside, the doors closed behind them and the last elevator doors holding them back dinged.

(Y/N) and Peggy were received by chatters amongst their colleagues, ones sitting in their respective desks while others walked from one side of the room to the other. The telephones were ringing, so no one dared to bat an eye when the only two women walked inside. The insignia received them in its usual spot, the words Strategic Scientific Reserve being the ones (Y/N) saw every day as she made her way to her desk.

(Y/N) didn't even get the chance to sit down on her desk and make herself comfortable when the alarm buzzed throughout the room. The sound alerted everyone and all men rushed into the briefing room without batting an eye, almost automatically.

Chief Roger Dooley exited his office with a serious face. "Agent Carter, Agent Dewitt, we just caught a red ball out of D.C. All hands on deck."

(Y/N) and Peggy dropped everything and followed after him, but he stopped before they could even take a single step.

"Meaning, cover the phones."

Peggy ran back to grab the telephone from her own desk. "Rose, forward all calls to the briefing room."

Chief Dooley looked back at her with annoyance, making (Y/N) smile from behind her palm. Peggy only corresponded with a satisfied grin of her own, clutching her papers to her chest.

"Covered," she told him. "Shall we?"

In the briefing room, the blinds were pulled down to make the room dark enough for the projector to work. All agents were sat in different chairs, and the ones that didn't get a chair — like Peggy and (Y/N) — remained standing up. They all paid attention to the screen, which played a fanfare before words showed up on the screen, increasing with each word that popped up. Millionaire. . .Playboy. . .Traitor?

"Americans have long followed the career of inventor Howard Stark, from boy genius to weapons developer to multimillionaire." the narrator announced as different images were projected; from an old photo of his childhood to his present appearance.

(Y/N) and Peggy exchanged a nervous glance from their place. What did Howard do now?

"Even more have followed his private life." A motion video of Howard walking outside of a club with his arms locked with three different grinning women was projected, followed by an identical one of him sitting on a table with a different woman. "But his most recent exploits threaten to send this flyboy into a nosedive."

"Accused of selling weapons to the enemy, the founder of Stark Industries was recently called to Capitol Hill."

The motion-picture showed a clip of Howard standing in front of an audience. "May I ask a question?"

"Not until you answer the question already before this committee."

"It's been so long, I don't even remember what is was."

"Did you knowingly sell military-grade technology to enemies of the United States?"

"Not knowingly."

"Did you do it unknowingly?"

"Now, by definition, that would be impossible to answer."

The projector stopped running and the lights were turned on, blinds being pulled up to bring the sunlight back into the room. Chief Dooley made his way back to the front of the table.

"So far, six pieces of Stark's technology have turned up either on the black market or in the arsenals of enemy states," he explained. "He's been waffling on the Hill, treating the whole thing like a joke. Yesterday was the final day of hearings. Stark didn't show."

(Y/N) couldn't help but think that this felt and sounded odd, even for Howard. She knew more than anyone what type of person he was, but for no apparent reason did she think he would be capable of selling weapons to the enemy. There had to be a logical explanation behind it.

"They checked his half a dozen houses and his half a dozen offices. . .Nothing." He finished. "So, as of this moment, Howard Stark is not only in contempt of Congress, he's a fugitive from justice. Find him. Squeeze him till he loses his sense of humor. Thompson. You lead."

Jack Thompson straightened in his chair. He leaned with his elbows resting against the table. "I'll ground his planes, freeze his bank accounts. There's a girl at First Federal who wants to owe me a favor."

"Sir, I really must object," Peggy raised her voice.

Chief Dooley extended his hand in her direction. "Why am I not surprised?"

"I knew Howard Stark during the war," she explained, her eyes flickering on (Y/N) to back her up. "His help was invaluable."

(Y/N) took the hint and stepped forward. "He may be a lot of things, sir, but he's not a traitor."

"We're all aware of your records, agents," Chief Dooley said. His eyes fell on (Y/N). "I'm sure being Captain America's. . .friend brought you into contact with all sorts of interesting people. But the war's over. Let the professionals decide who's worth going after."

Chief Dooley walked away from the briefing room without another word, telling the others that the meeting was over. Peggy huffed a breath through her nose in anger, frustrated that they didn't take her words seriously.

"Sounds like Dewitt knew a lot of guys during the war," she heard a coworker, Krzeminski, mutter to another man as he stood up from his chair.

"What'd you say, Krzeminski?" another agent, Daniel Sousa, demanded from his spot.

"I wasn't talking to you."

"You owe the lady an apology."

"Oh. You standing up for her now, Sousa? Better hurry, I don't have all day," Krzeminski mocked. When Sousa didn't say anything, he chuckled. "Huh? Nothing."

Everyone else had scattered out of the briefing room other than the women and Sousa, who pushed back his chair to grab his crutch from underneath the table. He got up with difficulty and held onto the crutch as he rounded the table on his way to the door.

"Agent Sousa, about what you just did — "

"Ah, don't worry about it," he cut her off.

"You didn't have to," (Y/N) told him.

"You're an agent. Both of you are," he argued. "They treat you like secretaries. I just wanted — "

"I appreciate it."

"What she's trying to say is that we're also more than capable of handling whatever these adolescents throw our way," Peggy spoke up.

"Yes, ma'am," Sousa diverted his gaze to the floor. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Well, that's another thing we have in common."

"Carter? Dewitt?" Thompson interrupted in his booming voice. "Gonna be a little busy with your friend Stark. If you don't mind, these surveillance reports and phone numbers need to be filed and. . .You're so much better at that kind of thing."

He handed their way the large stack of papers, shrugging as if it weren't a big deal.

"What kind of thing is that, Agent Thompson? The alphabet?" Peggy retorted.

"Or is it numbers?" (Y/N) added on. "It's simple, really. Let's start counting from the beginning, with the number 0."

Thompson chuckled at the antic. "Thanks, darling."

He turned on his heel and waved dramatically. "Adios. Auf Wiedersehen. Aloha."

He made his way back to the entrance, not aware of the three different pairs of eyes that stared at him weirdly as he walked away.

"Poor guy," Sousa watched him go. "Heard he got his personality shot off in Iwo Jima."

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Just after they were let off from work, (Y/N) didn't feel like going back home just yet and Peggy thought it might be a good idea to go out for dinner in their nearest automatic restaurant called L&L Automat. It was fairly filled with several people sat in different spaces of the restaurant, but not enough to make the place feel crowded. (Y/N) and Peggy sat in a booth across one another, both having in their hands a copy of today's newspaper in their hands. It was a surprise, to say the least, since the front page had a picture of Steve in front and center. (Y/N) didn't know how to react.

"I saw him once at a U.S.O. show in Passaic," the waitress, Angie, approached the table. "You can eat him with a spoon."

"Yes, I heard he was something," (Y/N) couldn't help but utter in a stern voice.

"Everything all right, Brooklyn?" Angie placed a hand to her hip, calling her by her designated nickname for (Y/N).

"All right, Angie, if you exclude work."

She gave her a look. "Boys at the phone company giving you both a hard time?"

"It's like working with adolescents," Peggy responded as she drank from her cup of tea.

"It's just — during the war, I felt like I had found where I belonged, somewhere I could help," (Y/N) explained softly. "But now I connect the calls, but I never get a chance to make them. Do you know what I mean?"

Angie looked both sides before sliding down on the booth beside (Y/N). "I had an audition today. Took three trains, got two bars into, 'Is You Is Or Is You Ain't'. They gave me the hook. I guess I ain't. We all got to pay our dues, even if it takes a while. You got talent," she said. "It's just a matter of time before Broadway calls."

"I'm afraid she can't carry a tune," Peggy said teasingly, winking when she caught (Y/N)'s eye.

"Doesn't matter when you got legs like yours."

A masculine voice interrupted their conversation. "This is supposed to be a BLT? Where's the girl?"

Angie turned around at the sound of the voice with a stoic expression, already expecting a specific tone from the man sat a few feet away.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you not work here anymore?" he questioned angrily.

Angie sighed, picking her pen and notepad. "Looks like I got to go."

"Is he a regular?"

"Yeah, but a regular what, I'm not allowed to say that on the clock," she answered to Peggy's question. She got up from the booth. "See you later."

A few minutes passed and (Y/N) went to a quick stop at the restroom while Peggy grabbed a piece of cheesecake from the pastries isle of the restaurant. She sat down on the booth and took a spoonful of her cake to her lips, waiting for (Y/N) to come back. When she did, she sat down and grabbed her own spoon from her side of the table to dig into the cake, but something caught her eye.

Peggy frowned when she noticed (Y/N)'s distracted gaze and she grabbed the napkin from the table with the message 'Meet in the alley in 5 minutes' written on it. (Y/N) subtly searched for any suspicious person inside the restaurant that could give away who wrote the message, but there was no sign at all. Peggy seemed to be doing the same, but inspecting from the side that (Y/N) couldn't cover.

They didn't have any other option but to follow what was written, stepping out the back door of the restaurant in silence and caution. The alley was empty, no signs of anyone around as both women checked from one side to the other.

"Miss Carter? Miss Dewitt?" a masculine voice called from the left side of the alley.

"Do we know you?" Peggy took the lead.

"Oh, we haven't had the pleasure," the voice responded as the man stepped into the light, his head leaning down. "But we may yet."

He lifted his head so his face could be visible. "You're coming with me."

A car engine roared and its front lights were abruptly turned on a few feet away, alarming both women immediately. Peggy delivered a punch directly to the man's face and easily knocked him out while (Y/N) tried to pry the door of the automat open with no avail. The car sped toward them with its bright lights shining down at them, following after them as they sprinted off the other direction.

(Y/N) pulled her gun from her purse and shot at the wheel, successfully managing to make the driver lose control of the car. The vehicle came to a halt and the driver's door opened, revealing an annoyingly familiar face.

"I know. I should've called first," Howard Stark's familiar voice rang through her ears. (Y/N) couldn't believe her eyes. He smirked, his mustache lifting up when he did so.

"Did you miss me?"

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"They're calling you a traitor."

The driver that Peggy previously knocked out was also Howard's personal chauffeur, and he drove them out of the alley and into the street without drawing too much attention. Howard sat in between (Y/N) and Peggy, and they both waited for an explanation to what the papers were saying of him.

"I'm calling it a setup."

He stayed silent for a second before he elaborated. "I have a vault. 'Had', I should say. Sun-basement of my office. . .Triple-thick, lead-lined. It was where I kept my bad babies."

"Bad babies?" Peggy questioned with raised eyebrows.

"Inventions too dangerous for anyone," he muttered in a serious tone. "Even my friends."

"If they're so 'bad', why invent them at all?" (Y/N) asked with her eyes on him.

"I can't help what I think of, but I can damn well control what I sell," he shrugged. "At least, I could until last month."

"What happened last month?"

"I was in Monaco with a lovely tax advisor," he said in a dreamy tone, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "When I got back, I found a hole under my vault, all the way to the sewer. Somebody cleaned me out. A couple of weeks later, my bad babies, they start turning up on the black market."

"But why run?" Peggy asked this time. "Why not tell the Senate the truth, ask for their help?"

"Apparently, it's not too big a jump to see me cutting a hole in my own vault and making some money on the sly."

(Y/N) found Peggy's eyes and she pressed her lips in a thin line while raising her eyebrows. Peggy shrugged her shoulders too, as if to say it wasn't that far off.

"Really?" Howard asked bewildered.

"We're considering all the angles," (Y/N) jumped to their own defense, playing with the fabric of her skirt. "Seems you have a lot of them."

Howard smirked, pleased. "Now, that's the (Y/N) Dewitt and Peggy Carter I need."

"For what?"

"To clear my name."

Peggy looked at him like he had grown two heads. "You can't be serious."

"I try not to be, but sometimes it just slips out anyway," he replied smugly, but then his voice turned raspy. "Oh, come on. You know darn well I didn't do this, which means the SSR is looking for the wrong guy. I want to find the right guy. But I'm gonna need someone on the inside, someone I can trust. And, ladies, there's no one I trust more than you."

"Howard, you're asking us to become traitors in order to prove you are not one," Peggy stated the obvious. "You do see the irony?"

"Come on. I know they're not using you right over there," Howard shook his head. "You want a mission that matters? This is it. My technology in the hands of some nut that wants to be the next Red Skull. You have no idea how bad that could be. Right now, you're the only ones that can stop that."

The car slowed down on an abandoned pier, where buoy bells rang in the distance. Howard ordered his chauffeur to stop there and turn off the lights. Everyone stepped out of the car and made their way to the trunk, the chauffeur lifting it open and pulling out a single suitcase. Howard grabbed the suitcase and made his way down a wooden plank to the other side of the pier.

"Where are you headed?" (Y/N) asked, following after him.

"Some of my babies have already sold overseas," he responded. "I'm gonna pay them a visit."

There, on the water, was a medium-sized speedboat, no doubt that it belonged to Howard. (Y/N) didn't think it would be powerful enough to make it overseas, but surely Howard had found a ridiculous way to make it work.

"The rest of them are here somewhere, which is where you come in."

He stepped inside the boat and dropped the suitcase on the deck. "Word is, one of the nasty ones is hitting the market in the next day or two."

"What is it?" Peggy questioned, stopping right beside (Y/N).

"Just a piece of paper," Howard answered while fixing a few cables underneath the boat's wheel. "My formula for molecular nitramene. Technically, we're not even sure it works, but, well, let's face it, I invented it, so it works."

"If that stuff were fabricated — "

"Boom?"

(Y/N) didn't want to say out loud that she was worried about what was going to Howard and how long he would have to flee the country, since that might as well multiply his ego a thousand times more. Howard stepped off the boat and walked over to the women, stopping right in front of (Y/N).

"This much would level a city block," he grabbed her hand and balled it into a fist for a demonstration. "And I'm not talking the short ones. Avenues."

"We're going to regret this, aren't we?" Peggy spoke on the sideline.

"Absolutely." Howard said in full honesty. "But when you're not humiliating him, that fellow up there is my butler, Edwin Jarvis. He'll help you in any way he can."

"I owe you one."

"This counts as more than just one," (Y/N) told him as he let go of her hand.

He pulled Peggy into a farewell hug and (Y/N) didn't expect him to do the same with her, but he did. He rocked themselves side to side for a few seconds before he pulled away, walking backward into the boat. Before he stepped inside, he blew a kiss in (Y/N)'s direction.

"There are only a dozen fences that can handle something this hot." Howard ignited the boat's engine. "You just gotta learn which one."

"And I figured you'd never have any trouble finding a man."

(Y/N) gave him an unimpressed look. "The trick is finding the right one."

He didn't respond to that and instead sped off in his speedboat into the cold, Atlantic waters. (Y/N) didn't know when she'd see him again, but now she and Peggy had to concentrate in a way to make this mission work without growing suspicions.

Peggy and (Y/N) made their way back up the wooden plank, where the butler Edwin Jarvis was waiting for them. He had a slight bruising in his face because of Peggy's blow, but other than that, he looked like a regular man.

"The next time you approach two women in a dark alley, you might introduce yourself," Peggy shared her advice with her eyes set on Jarvis.

"Well, I shall endeavor to remember that, provided my concussion isn't too severe," he retorted, with a similar accent to hers.

He pulled out a business card with his phone number written on it out of his suit's pocket. "Should you need me. Call any time before 9:00."

"What happens at 9:00?" (Y/N) asked as her eyes inspected the business card.

"My wife and I go to bed," he said softly. "7:00, sherry. 8:00, Benny Goodman. 9:00, bed."

Peggy eyed him up and down. "You're new to espionage, aren't you?"

"Far from it." He responded and he lifted his head with a sense of pride. "Last summer, I caught the cook pocketing the good spoons."

"Ooh."

"What now, misses?" he opened the back door of the car for them in a gentlemanly manner.

"Now we go to work."

first chapter of the agent carter series is here !!
peggy's and y/n's beef with thompson is gonna be so funny just you wait.

here's where i start describing the outfits like i had said earlier in the book, i don't know if just describe them or put pictures at the beginning of the chapters. what do you say?

- see you soon, bex <3