Peggy's eyes flutter open. She must've fallen asleep on the couch while she was pouring over a legal journal. A few more seconds and she's hearing...keys typing? Her eyes focus to find Angie - on Peggy's laptop, for some reason - with a towel on her head, still dressed in a bathrobe.

"...Angie, what the hell?" Peggy asks, voice rough and scratchy from sleep. The setting sun reflected off the window was in her eyes, making her squint.

"I'm checking your email for you, because I'm helpful. What does it look like I'm doing?"

Peggy rubs her eyes, sitting up. "I…why're-?"

Angie shrugs. "Oh hey, new update about the Maximoff case. You're being assigned with another attorney."

"Okay, fine. Who am I going to work with?"

Angie's silence is largely unsettling. "Well..." Angie trails off.

Peggy's blood runs cold as she gets a bad feeling. "Oh, God, don't tell me it's-"

"...Steve Rogers."

"And, you told me," Peggy has the urge to slam her head against the wall. "Bloody hell. Out of all possible lawyers in the state of New York, I have to go and work with that twat." Steve Rogers was plain annoying, simple as that.

"Coulda been worse, English. It could've been Thompson." Angie mentions, picking at her nails. "Y'know, you really oughta get ol' Stevie's associate's number for me. For work stuff, of course."

"You're very transparent, Angie." Peggy says as she gets up off of the couch. She stretches, the hard-wood floor feeling very cold all of the sudden.

Angie shrugs. "Hey, guy's a beefcake, what can I say?"

"How charmingly superficial, Angie. Do you even know…'Beefcake's' name?" Peggy questions amusedly. She fully knew 'Beefcake's' name, but she also liked to tease Angie.

"Hey! I like what I like."

"Fair enough," Peggy agrees. She takes her phone out of her pocket. "Up for Chinese food tonight?"

"Nah. I just had it for lunch yesterday. How about Greek?"

"Gyros it is, then." Peggy nods, dialing the phone number for the local Greek restaurant.


Peggy had been up until roughly four in the morning doing research for her case. A pair of twins, 17 year olds Pietro and Wanda Maximoff were being charged with murder for killing their foster father.

Which, all in all, was simply awful when you needed to be up at five-thirty in the morning.

And even worse, still, when you're to the point of nearly falling asleep on the toilet.

A rapid knocking on the bathroom door startled Peggy. "Hey, English! You better hurry up in there, I need to wash my hair!" Angie yells.

"Hold on a second!" Peggy yells back.

Okay, so hopefully, today wouldn't be so bad. Sure, she'd have to work with Steve Rogers - running on an hour-and-a-half of sleep.

That one could be fixed with coffee. As for her Steve problem, that one would be less easily repaired.

Nonetheless, Peggy could surely handle it. She's handled far worse; perhaps, when the case was over, she could look back and laugh at all of this.

"Be faster!" Comes Angie's muffled reply. "I gotta shave my legs, too!"

Peggy finishes up, grabbing the supplies she needed to get ready, and with one look at her haggard reflection, she realizes that today would, undoubtedly, be a shitshow.


Peggy had done her best on her makeup to look like less of a corpse and more lively. She had dressed herself in a green suit that Angie had once described as "like, super sexy,". Now with some Starbucks hopefully fueling her, she could begin her day with an insufferable attorney.

Oh, joyous day.

"Carter," Steve greets coolly. He has a beard now - it makes him look older; less baby-faced. It suits him, Peggy thinks.

"Rogers," she nods curtly, placing her briefcase on the table.

"You're almost late," he has the nerve to remind her.

"I happened to be up late researching this case. I can only hope you've done your homework as well." She replies passive-aggressively with a polite smile (one she reserved for clients and strangers) that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Carter, you have no idea." Steve replies, like his vagueness is supposed to be exciting to her, or something.

"I look forward to seeing what you bring to the case. You know, since the State felt the need to feel more secure and hire me after you, and all."

"If I recall, we were hired at basically the same time."

"That's not how I heard it," she counters, eyebrows raised.

Steve is about to retort when their clients come in and sit down without a word.

"Hello," Peggy and Steve greet at the same time unintentionally. Peggy gets the first word in, "Are you two ready for today?"

Wanda merely shrugs, eyes downcast, whilst Pietro sighs, wringing his hands together. "Not really ready, but we heard you guys are really good at your jobs."

"Thank you," Steve and Peggy reply at the same time, once again. Steve clears his throat. "So, let's go over the basic facts." He and Peggy both sit down. "According to your case file, you killed your foster father in self-defense-"

"He was going to hurt us." Wanda interrupts.

"Do you care to explain a bit more? The more we know, the more we can help you." Peggy inquires, Steve nodding in agreement.

The twins remain silent for a long while. Wanda keeps her arms crossed, avoiding eye contact with Peggy and Steve. Pietro sighs. "Strücker...he told Wanda that if she had another outburst…" Pietro trails off, biting his lip.

"Please, continue."

"Strücker threatened to kill me." Wanda finishes for him. "Said he was going to make sure the two of us never saw the sun rise again."

"And then what happened?"

"I...I couldn't let that happen, and we started struggling. He h- had his hands around my neck, I... I panicked, Pietro was trying to pull him off of me," her breath catches as she stops short, unwilling to continue dredging up the memories.

Steve and Peggy exchange a look. "How about we take a five-minute break? I could use some water, I'm sure you two could, too." Peggy suggests.

The twins both nod, looking relieved, and all four of them leave the room.

"Carter." A hand on her forearm stops her. "Look, I know we don't know the whole story yet, but I don't think they killed him purposefully," Steve whispers to her.

She glances back at their clients through the blinds. "We'll see, Steve. Either way, we'll help them." Peggy replies determinedly.


Peggy clears her throat. "I know it's difficult to talk about, but we need you to help us so we can help you the best. Can you continue your story where you left off?" she asks, clicking her pen.

Wanda's eyes are watery, but she nods, taking in a deep breath. "Strücker, he…" Her voice cracks. "He started to choke me..."

"How did you fight him off?"

"I…I…" She looks at Peggy and Steve with a pleading look. The two are silent, waiting for a reply. "I tried to, and Pietro was trying to, but..." she trails off, starting her sobs anew.

"It's okay...take a deep breath." Steve's voice is gentle, consoling her.

The twins share a glance, then begin again. "I...I grabbed the knife he threatened me with... I-I stabbed him..." Wanda inhales, unable to continue.

After a beat, Pietro adds, "He started to stand up, I panicked, a-and, I pushed him down the stairs." Pietro swallows, taking a moment to recollect his thoughts. "He...he fell, and...and he didn't get up." He looks away from them, anxiously pulling at the string of his hoodie.

Steve and Peggy trade another look. Peggy purses her lips for a moment, then continues after giving her client a moment. "So you killed Strücker. Did y-"

"We know what we did!" Wanda shouts, her face red. She slams her fists on the table. "We... we had to. If we hadn't, we would have died! I…"

"Wanda." Pietro says. The tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a knife, the only sound of the room being a creaky, slow-moving ceiling fan. Nobody says anything for a good while.

"...Can we go now?" Wanda asks, her voice a bit more timid. She seems to have shrunken in on herself, slouching in her chair and hugging herself. "Please," she adds.

Peggy bites her lip. She still had a few more questions she wanted to ask them, but they were both clearly at the end of their rope.

"How about a break?" Steve thankfully suggests. "You two can get yourselves something to snack on from the vending machine. Carter and I have some things to discuss, anyway."

The twins both appear to be silently conferring for a moment before they both get up without so much as a word.

Peggy sighs, looking through her files on the twins. "They've been from foster home to foster home," Peggy notes. "One set of foster parents gave the twins back because they were, quote…witches. They were twelve at the time."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "That's all the reason they gave?"

"Mostly. They refuted that the twins weren't a good fit for them."

Steve leans closer to look at the file and Peggy is acutely aware of how...close he's sitting next to her. She sets the file down on the table so they could both see better. "They've only been with Strücker for the last four-and-a-half years. If what they said about Strücker in the police report is true...I'm surprised Strücker lasted as long as he did." Peggy breathes.

"If it's true he was systematically abusing them, we should order an x-ray for both of them. It'd show signs of bone reconstruction based on injury."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Peggy replies as she finally looks up from the file to look him in the eye. They share eye contact for a second too long and Peggy looks away awkwardly. "You, uh. You had some fuzz on your jacket," he says with an awkward cough.

"Y-yeah. Thanks." She brushes her hand on her jacket.

"No, it's right over there, let me-" he's reaching over her shoulder now, trying to dust it off with his hand.

The door opens abruptly as they both jump apart instantly.

"What else do you need to ask us?" Pietro asks as he plops himself down in the chair, reaching into his pocket to grab his bag of Skittles.

Wanda sits down with much less energy, tossing her unopened bag of chips on the table.

Steve clasps his hands on the table, sitting up a little straighter. "We just have a few more questions for you two, if you will…"


"What'd you bring home?"

"Sbarro," Peggy replies without taking her eyes off the television. She was currently nursing an awful headache.

"Gross," Angie replies, taking a slice out of the box and putting it on a paper plate so she could warm it up in the microwave, anyway. "So, how was your day with baby-face Rogers?"

Peggy smiles just a bit at the nickname. "Well, first off, he's got a beard now. So on top of being generally annoying, he looks somewhat attractive, which just makes him extra annoying."

"Let's be real, English. He's always been hot." Angie says, closing the microwave much more loudly than necessary.

Peggy rolls her eyes but says nothing in reply.

"Fine, how is the interview with the murder twins going so far?"

Peggy shrugs. "Aside from working with Rogers - he's surprisingly competent, just annoying, mind you - it could be going worse."

"I don't see the problem," Angie chirps. "You get to work with a hottie every day. The guys at my job are all middle-aged and constantly sweaty."

"You work in a kitchen, Angie. Of course, they're sweaty." Peggy replies, shifting on the couch so Angie could have room to sit, too.

Angie plops down on the couch. "You're right, but they're sweaty outside of work, too. We went to Poor Richard's for some drinks and this was like, four hours after the shift, and they were still sweating like pigs. You should feel bad for me." she grimaces.

Peggy takes a sip of her water. "Mmm, at least you don't hate the sweaty men you work with."

"You do not hate baby-face Rogers, English. You think he's annoying 'cause he's hot, that's all there is to it." Angie says as if she's got it all figured out.

"Wrong." Steve Rogers was annoying for several reasons, but him being hot was not one of them. It just made him slightly more insufferable, that's all.

"I'm right, and you're just too stubborn to admit it," She blows cool air on her pizza. "Jesus, I nuked this pizza."

"You didn't even need to microwave it, you dork." Peggy snarks, flipping through the movie selections on Netflix.

"Well, how was I supposed to know when exactly you got it? I'm not psychic, English."

"You could've asked."

Angie rolls her eyes. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Want to watch Stranger Things?"

"No, you overplayed it to death."

"Ple-ase, English, don't act like you weren't watching it, too."

Peggy sighs. It would be nicer to watch something that she didn't have to pay attention to. She just wanted something mindless to watch so hopefully, she could take a nap. Her head was seriously hurting from this entire case.

"Fine, fine, I'll put it on, but only because I'm nice."