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(Y/N) was right on time to leave for work, just as always. She followed her daily routine down to the smallest detail, she even opened the windows for a while to allow the outside air to blend in with the one in her apartment, accidentally allowing Tuna, the neighbor's cat, inside for a while before returning back to its owners. She glanced back to her wristwatch to confirm she wasn't running late even though she knew it was impossible, stepping out of her apartment at the same time. The sound of her key turning the lock on her door was sound to her ears, and she was about to walk down the hall like any other day, but this time there was a disturbance.

A man, no older than her, seemed to be carrying a box of belongings in his arms before the weight won him over and dropped it with a loud thud. (Y/N) hadn't even noticed he was there until she saw the path where he came from, which was the door that lead to the stairwell. There was no one around to help the poor man up, only the nosy neighbors that stuck their necks out to see what the noise was before going back inside. (Y/N) figured she had to do something and kneeled before him, helping him gather the stuff that had fallen to the floor.

"Here," she lifted a spare book from the book and extended her hand out for him to take it, until she read the cover. "'The Hobbit', huh? You must have good taste."

"Oh, I haven't read it yet, so I'm not quite sure," the mysterious man grabbed it from her hands and tossed it back inside the box. "Thank you."

When the man finished gathering his stuff and lifted his head to look at (Y/N), she was finally able to see him clearly. He had a mop of brown hair that was long enough to cover half of his forehead, and his eyes were a shade of green she'd only seen in fine pieces of jewelry. His clothes were nothing extraordinary, just a simple dress shirt and pants.

"No problem," (Y/N) shrugged off his gratitude. "I'm assuming you're new here, or I would've seen you around otherwise."

"I've lived here for 5 years now," he said in a serious tone and (Y/N) nearly swallowed her tongue in embarrasment. The man saw the horrified look on her face and let out a laugh. "I'm joking. I just moved here yesterday afternoon. I'm carrying the last of my boxes."

"Oh," (Y/N) laughed in relief. "Where are you from?"

"Uh, um, Kentucky."

(Y/N) crossed her arms in interest. "Is it nice there?"

"Boring, actually," he answered rather quickly. "That's why I came here, to be exact. To the city where dreams come true."

That erupted a laugh out of (Y/N), although it wasn't exactly directed at him. "Haven't heard that one before," she said in a sarcastic tone.

A beat of uncomfortable silence washed over them, and (Y/N) didn't want to cut her conversation short. She cleared her throat to catch the man's attention, who had been staring at the peeled off wallpaper with a newly found sense of interest, as if he were scanning his surroundings.

"If you need any help with anything, where to get somewhere, which places to visit, or what to do when the elevator doesn't work, you can knock on my door," she said with a smile, pointing at her apartment door behind her.

He smiled in appreciation. "Thank you. . .?"

She had been so focused on talking to him that she had forgotten to present herself. "(Y/N)."

"(Y/N)," he repeated to hear what it sounded like with his voice. "Nice to meet you, I'm Louis."

"Nice to meet you."

Louis opened his mouth to say something else, probably to ask one more thing about how things worked around the building, but he was cut short when a ringing sound echoed through the silent hallway. (Y/N) winced and prayed that it wasn't her telephone, but luck wasn't on her side this time. She thought that if she didn't move a muscle, the sound would disappear.

"I think that's your telephone ringing."

"I'm afraid so," she said in an apologetic tone to cut their conversation short. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he shook his head. "Hope to see you around, (Y/N)."

"So do I."

(Y/N) opened and shut the door to her apartment in a flash, being able to finally register her final words to him and groan at the thought of how he could've misinterpreted them. She felt the familiar feeling of embarrasment flood all over her. A single conversation with a man that was basically a stranger and she's biting her tongue to stop herself from saying something stupid.

(Y/N) could've spent the entire morning standing there analyzing the interaction in her head, but the telephone ringing brought her back to Earth. She quickly scattered toward the telephone and and placed it near her ear, confused to who could be calling her, especially at this hour.

"Hello?"

"Are you dressed?" (Y/N) didn't have to think twice of who was on the other line, those words being too blunt to belong to someone specifically. That, and the obvious accent dripping from her tongue.

"I am," she answered. "Is there a particular reason why you asked me, or should I guess?"

"I'm afraid we might have to pay Mr. Jarvis a visit."

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The ride to one of Howard's former residences in the area was much quicker than (Y/N) thought it would be, much to her surprise. She wasn't quite sure if it was the adrenaline still pumping in her blood from the last interaction she had with that man in the hall, or the fact that Peggy had called with a desperate tone and said she had an idea.

Before she knew it, she was exiting the cab that brought her into the driveway of the mansion and tried to find a way to get Mr. Jarvis's eye without knocking on the front door. Luckily, in just a few minutes, Peggy was able to get his attention from across the dinning room's window and waved at him to come outside.

Mr. Jarvis spoke up after he bid a quick explanation to his wife and joined the ladies outside. "In polite society, one telephones ahead before trespassing."

"It isn't the first time any woman has trespassed the property, if I'm correct," (Y/N) pointed out the obvious as she walked side by side with Peggy and Mr. Jarvis.

"That's a fair point," Mr. Jarvis admitted after a beat of silence. "What brings you here?"

"My landlady gave me an idea," Peggy explained in a brief sentence, catching the man off guard.

"Oh, splendid," he exclaimed. "Why, now if we could get an opinion from your butcher."

He received a look on Peggy's part due to his sarcastic remark, though there was no verbal response from her. The three of them continued to walk through the garden, trusting Mr. Jarvis to guide them through the place they were looking for.

"Someone robbed Howard's impenetrable vault," Peggy elaborated as the three stopped by another door to the enormous house. "If I can find out how he got in, perhaps I can trace where he went and locate Howard's missing technology."

Mr. Jarvis opened the door and eyed them up and down their choice of clothes for the day. "You're not really dressed for it, I'm afraid."

This time, he was given a judgmental look by (Y/N) and an offended scoff by Peggy's part before stepping inside the building. As (Y/N)'s eyes got adjusted to the dim lights inside, they couldn't help but widen at the sight of the interior staring back at her. She knew Howard was a luxurious man — she had already seen the way he decorated the penthouse — but this was quite a different style. The tiles underneath her feet were the classic checkered black and white, and the walls stretched as tall as she never imagined a wall could look like.

She was knocked out of state of awe when Mr. Jarvis spoke once again to explain, "Our thief didn't exactly walk the items out the front door."

"The night of the break-in, did you hear anything?" Peggy questioned and she set her purse down in one of the nearby tables.

The three walked deeper into the house by walking down a short flight of stairs.

"Well, no," Mr. Jarvis answered. "There was a tremendous thunderstorm. It knocked the power out, including the alarms, for almost two hours."

"Not that I would have heard any of it." he continued.  "I'm afraid the sultry combination of candlelight and rain always puts me out like a baby."

"You're quite the guard dog."

"Security is not within my purview."

There was a knock on the door that interrupted any of them from saying anything further. (Y/N) looked back at Mr. Jarvis to search his face for any sign that would confirm that he was expecting a visitor today, but all she received was a confused frown from him.

"SSR," none other than Sousa's familiar voice rang through the other side. "Open up."

(Y/N) and Peggy exchanged a look of fear between one another and immediately tried to search for a place to hide from view, but still close enough to hear what Sousa was here for. Mr. Jarvis, despite being panicked from the inside, answered the door after the third knock. He opened the door wide enough for (Y/N) to see that Sousa hadn't come here alone, but brought her least favorite coworker, Thompson.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. How may I help you?"

"Afternoon," Thompson tipped his hat. "Agents Thompson and Sousa with the SSR."

"If you're looking for Mr. Stark, I'm afraid he's indefinitely unavailable."

"We're well-aware of that, Mr. Jarvis," Sousa spoke up this time. "That is your name, isn't it? Mr. Edwin Jarvis? You misplace anything recently?"

"Yes, I did lose a fountain pen on Fifth Avenue."

"How about the bumper off a Fleetmaster?" Thompson questioned. "Anything like that?"

"Just the bumper?" Mr. Jarvis asked. "Wish you'd found the entire car. I reported it stolen several days ago. Detective Davis at the 19th precinct was very helpful."

"If there's nothing further — "

Thompson stuck his foot out to stop Mr. Jarvis from closing the door. "The bumper was found in a major crime scene. There's plenty further."

Mr. Jarvis remained quiet for a second, turning back for a quick second as if to check that both Peggy and (Y/N) had heard everything. For just a brief moment, (Y/N) was horrified that Thompson might've picked on the strange behavior and barged inside, but luckily that didn't happen.

"Mr. Stark doesn't like visitors, whether he's here to receive them or not."

"Look, Mr. Jarvis, I can call a judge and wait here to get a warrant," Thompson warned, but then his tone relaxed. "But honestly, it's almost lunchtime, and I'm hungry. How would you like to take a ride downtown?"

"Well, lead the way."

Mr. Jarvis stepped outside and closed the door behind him, finally allowing (Y/N) and Peggy to step out of their hiding spots.

"Thought he'd never leave," (Y/N) whispered under her breath.

Careful to not be seen, both ladies peeked through the window just to see how Sousa opened the back door of his car for Mr. Jarvis to get in.

"Well, this will be novel," Mr. Jarvis remained calm as he stepped inside the car without a single protest, his voice quite muffled by the glass. "I haven't been in the back of a car in years."

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" — Dooley would kill me if I let a lady take nights."

Surely it wasn't the bet thing to hear when you're first entering the office for the day, but this time (Y/N) didn't even look at Krzeminski after his comment and kept her gaze focused on her own desk.

"Besides, neither of them can barely make their own shifts," Krzeminski turned his head as he heard the sound of the heels clicking against the hard floor. "Work day starts at 9:00 am, honey."

"Tell me, Agent Krzeminski, who are you bringing to the show?" Peggy spoke up, referring to the first thing she heard as she entered the precinct — which was him begging for someone to cover his shift tonight. "Your wife or your girlfriend?"

Laughter followed her remark, from both the man sitting next to Krzeminski and (Y/N). The woman reached her desk and set down her purse, ready to start her shift like any other person would do, hoping to see Peggy do the same, but that wasn't the case.

She stood up and in a flash grabbed her hand to question her whereabouts. "Where are you off to?"

"The interrogation room," she stated like it was obvious. "Someone has to check on Mr. Jarvis."

"You're right," (Y/N) understood. "If there's one thing worse than being in that interrogation room, is being in that room with Thompson himself."

Peggy let out a sound similar to a huff of a laugh, though she diguised it as a scoff. She turned on her heel and left toward the room, leaving (Y/N) alone with a whining Krzeminski and other chattering coworkers. She had no real work to finish, so she busied herself on doodling in a recycled sheet of paper, silently laughing at the way her drawings were nothing similar to Steve's elaboarate sketches. She tried everything, every single thing in her willpower to distract herself from hearing Krzeminski's nagging voice in her ear.

"All right, I'll let you take my shift," he said after a while.

(Y/N) looked up from her desk to glare at him.

"It's a one-time offer, Dewitt," he repeated, much more louder than before as if that were even possible. He clapped his hands to get her attention. "Dewitt, are you listening to me?"

"Everything you're saying goes in one ear and out the other," she responded without lifting an eye from her desk.

A groan left Krzeminski's lips at no one taking him seriously, but when the sound of heels clicking agaisnt the floor rang in his ears, he perked up. "What about you, Carter?"

Peggy walked her way down to (Y/N)'s desk without sparing him a glance.

"Carter? Carter!"

(Y/N) jumped up because the yells and looked up to see Peggy staring down at her. Had she been distracted for too long that the interrogation was over already? That didn't seem possible.

"What happened?" she lowered her voice. "Did they let him go?"

"Total opposite," Peggy responded in the same tone. "They have something on him. Something that made him twitch."

(Y/N) felt her nerves growing inside her at those words. Not only was she worried about the SSR being so close to discovering the truth, but of the fact that they could do anything to get Mr. Jarvis to talk, even resort to violence.

"What do you have in mind?"

Peggy's lips twitched into a smile. "Saw an important file in Chief Dooley's hands."

(Y/N) knew what she was implying. Peggy reached out to grab a pile of forgotten files from her own desk and secured them in her arms. Immediately, (Y/N) stood up from her chair and joined her friend's side, stopping her from going back where she came from.

(Y/N) took the load of files from Peggy's hands, ignoring the immediate frown she received from her. "Allow me."

"What are you — "

"I don't want you to take the fall for this." She admitted, adjusting the files in her arms. "And it'll look less suspicious."

Peggy didn't protest against it and (Y/N) walked toward the interrogation room with quick steps. She hoped for it to work, otherwise there was no other way she could think of to save Mr. Jarvis from Thompson's claws. She knocked on the door and peeked her head in, receiving wide eyed looks from both Sousa and Chief Dooley.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, Chief Dooley, but I need your signature, sir."

"What? Can't it wait?"

"Carter said the codes are ready," she slipped her entire body inside the room, her gaze flickering to Mr. Jarvis on the other side of the two-way mirror. "I need your approval to help her start the analysis,"

She purposely placed the load of files on top of the report on the table, trying to ignore the irritated look that Chief Dooley was giving her. He pulled out a pen from his suit pocket and signed the sheet quite disgrunted, but (Y/N) didn't care about that.

"Thank you."

She swooped the load of files back in her arms, hoping that Chief Dooley didn't notice the report missing on his desk, and luckily, he didn't say a word. She flashed the men a polite smile before exiting the room without another word.

Once she was outside, Peggy seemed to be searching for her in between he dozens of men walking through the precinct. When they locked eyes feet away from one another, (Y/N) could easily read the look Peggy was giving her -- which was one to question whether or not she grabbed the report. (Y/N) used a finger to gesture to the pile of files in her hands in response with a look of her own, almost offended by the fact that Peggy might've doubted her skills for a second.

(Y/N) heard the doorknob twist behind her and she quickly scattered away from the door, hiding against a wall in a small file room. Not even two seconds passed before Chief Dooley exited the room with Sousa behind him, and Thompson came out of the interrogation room with his hands in his pockets.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think he's on the verge of telling you what Stark had for breakfast two months ago," Chief Dooley said in a congratulatory tone.

"Really nice, Jack," Sousa added.

"Mm-hm. You feel him sweat?" Chief Dooley continued. "Wife's the key. Stay on the wife."

Thompson moved to open the door to the interrogation room, barely allowing him and Chief Dooley to step inside before (Y/N) took initiative.

"Mr. Jarvis, I want you to meet — "

"Chief Dooley!" she called in a chirpy tone, fully aware that the door was open. "I'm afraid your stolen car report got mixed up with my own paperwork."

This froze the men in their tracks. They looked back at her incredulously, and she, pretended not to know what she had done wrong at the moment.

Mr. Jarvis made a sound in the back of his throat before rising to his feet. "Thank you for your hospitality, gentlemen."

His eyes met (Y/N)'s for a brief moment and she saw a glint of a sense of relief in his eyes, to which she would've responded with a smile if there weren't so many prying eyes.

"Unless you're going to arrest and charge me, I'll be on my way," he flickered his gaze between the chief and Thompson. "If there's anything further you'd like to discuss, please feel free to contact one of Mr. Stark's attorneys."

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"Do you have any idea how stupid that was?"

"I didn't — "

"Exactly. You didn't think," Chief Dooley interrupted her before she could finish her sentence. "For the love of Eve, will somebody tell me what I did, who I cheesed off to have you dumped in my lap?"

(Y/N) found the color of the floor rather interesting, not daring to stare at the glare behind her boss's eyes. She felt like she was back to being a little girl, scolded after getting into trouble time after time in school for fighting off the bullies that messed with her friends. She had gone a long way now, but she guessed there were just some things that never change.

"And you wonder why you never catch any actual assignments."

Chief Dooley caught sight of Sousa guiding Mr. Jarvis out of the precinct and he scoffed. "Hey."

For a brief moment, (Y/N) locked eyes with Mr. Jarvis through the window and she could see the glint of guilt behind his eyes, as if he was at fault for the position that she was in. She resisted the urge to shake his head at him or at least show emotion on her face to tell him that he shouldn't feel guilt for something he had nothing to do with.

"You see this man?" he pointed at Thompson in the corner of the room, who had been completely silent ever since she entered the office.

"He did exemplary work today, and you ruined it. Now, what do you have to say to him?"

(Y/N)'s eyes set on Thompson's figure leaning against the windowsill and she swore that she saw a smirk in the corner of his lips. Bastard was enjoying this. The last thing she wanted was to admit defeat and apologize to him, but she had no other choice.

"Agent Thompson, I'm deeply sorry," she said in a sigh, meeting his eyes.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Agent Dewitt, sorry doesn't even begin to cover it."

"Doesn't even begin to cover it," Chief Dooley repeated his words in agreement.

(Y/N) didn't think that saying something else would help her case, even though she so desperately wanted to point out the obvious favoritism for Thompson over everybody else. But she decided to stay quiet to wriggle out of Chief Dooley's wrath easily and move along with her day, which would be completely eventful.

"Get out of my sight."

"Sir," she bid a quick farewell and slipped out of the room in a single move.

When the door closed behind her, all eyes glued to Chief Dooley's office adverted somewhere else, and (Y/N) suddenly grew self conscious at the thought of them whispering about her. The only person who didn't remove their eyes from the door was Peggy, who stood up from her chair to join (Y/N)'s side almost immediately.

She hovered a comforting hand on her shoulder, unsure of what to say.

"It's fine," (Y/N) brushed her concern off. "I've heard worse."

i'm back !!

y/n really is like: if jack thompson has a thousand haters, i'm one of them, if he has zero haters im dead.

- see you soon, bex <3