𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐲: "𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞; 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫."
NEW YORK, 1967
It's 1967 and Margot Murdock's life is falling apart. I...
It's 3:00 o'clock, and I'm sitting at my desk, pouring over Peggy Carter's case file. James and Matt want me to look at psychiatric records, something to show that she wasn't of sound mind after the murder. The problem is, her file is crammed full of a bunch of bullshit— well, it looks like bullshit to me, but I'm not a lawyer.
It's a disaster. There are medical files mixed in with eyewitness testimony of her walking out into the middle of the street covered in her husband's blood. Then, there are police reports, the contents of her jewellery box as an itemized list...
I know way too much about this woman even after looking through her file for half an hour.
As I rifle through some more papers, on the hunt for anything that looks like a hospital record, I hear someone clear their throat above me. I glance up to see James staring at me with a mischievous little smirk on his face. His hair is perfectly messy with that gorgeous caramel streak that I love to run my fingers through. He's abandoned his jacket, wearing only his dress shirt and tie. I look around the office to make sure nobody's staring at us. Kate's engrossed in a conversation with Karen while everyone else is either on the phone or typing away.
I smirk and look back down at my papers. James clears his throat again.
"What are you staring at, Barnes?"
I don't even have to look at him to know how big his smile is. He places an envelope on my desk.
"Open it."
My name is written in his slanted cursive. How did he even learn to write like that? It's flawless. You can't even learn to write like that in secretarial school. He even drew a heart in the "o" in my name.
It's so fucking sweet.
"I'm busy right now. You wanted Peggy's psychiatric records, I'm trying to find them in this whole goddamn mess—"
James scoffs and I feel him leaning over me. When I look up, he's staring me down with that intense, burning look in his aquamarine eyes.
"Open the damn envelope, Margot."
I sigh and grab the envelope, opening it up. Inside, are five hundred dollar bills. My brows pinch together and I stare at him.
"What the hell is this?"
"Your bonus."
"For what?"
James leans in a little further, like he's forgetting that we're at work and he shouldn't be doing this.
