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Minutes later…
The door to the Chief's office swung open, and Peggy emerged with Steve by her side, her expression stern and authoritative.
The Chief of Police followed behind them, a stark contrast to the formidable man he'd been before. Now, in the presence of Peggy, he appeared almost meek, his shoulders hunched slightly as he led the way back toward the holding cells.
The officers and staff in the precinct watched with wide eyes, unable to comprehend who these people were and what had just transpired to cause such a shift in their usually intimidating Chief.
As they approached the cell, Mikaela's eyes fixed on Steve, a hint of awe in her expression. "…"
"Open it," Peggy ordered, her voice leaving no room for hesitation.
The Chief scrambled to find the keys, his movements uncharacteristically clumsy in his rush to comply. When he couldn't find them immediately, his frustration boiled over, and he barked at the nearest officer, "Get the damn keys and open this cell, now!"
The young officer from earlier practically tripped over himself as he hurried over with the keys, his hands shaking slightly as he unlocked the cell door.
Mikaela's thoughts raced as she watched the scene unfold. How did Peter know these people? The way they commanded respect, how they could just walk into a police station and reduce the Chief of Police to this… It didn't add up.
And was that really Captain America standing beside the older woman? But that was impossible, wasn't it? Her school books said he'd died over 50 years ago...
As the cell door creaked open, Peter was the first to step out, stretching his arms and legs as if he'd merely been relaxing rather than detained.
Mikaela followed, her mind still swirling with questions. Peter smiled, giving Peggy a nod of thanks. "Appreciate the save, Granny," he teased, though Peggy only offered a cold glare in response, still irritated from his earlier antics.
Turning to the Chief, Peggy's tone was all business. "Is that all? Do they have any belongings that need to be returned?"
The Chief, flustered, quickly looked to his officers. "Well? Where are their belongings?" His voice cracked like a whip, and the officers rushed to comply, searching through the nearby desks and evidence lockers.
After a brief moment of chaos, the officers returned with Peter and Mikaela's belongings—wallets, keys, and other personal items. But as Peter sifted through the evidence bag handed to him, his expression darkened. "Hold on," he said, his tone sharp. "Where's my money?"
The entire precinct seemed to go still, the air thick with tension. Peter's wad of hundred-dollar bills was conspicuously absent from the evidence bag, and the realization dawned on everyone at once.
A frown appeared on Peggy's face, a dangerous sign that the situation was about to escalate.
The Chief's face turned red with fury as he snapped at his officers, "Who has the money? Who took it? Speak up now before I find out myself!"
After a tense silence, a nervous-looking officer stepped forward, pointing to a desk across the room. "It was Officers Phillips and Wright who processed their belongings. They handled everything since they're the arresting officers..."
The Chief's expression turned thunderous. Phillips and Wright were notorious troublemakers in the precinct, always skirting the line of acceptable behavior. "Where are they now?" he demanded, his voice rising with each word.
A murmur spread through the precinct as everyone looked around, but they were nowhere to be seen.
Peter, remembering the idiots from earlier, couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face. He pointed toward a small door across the room. "I think I saw two cops go in there earlier," he said innocently.
The Chief frowned, glancing at the door in question. "That's just a storage closet," he muttered, but the look on Peter's face gave him pause. Curiosity piqued, the Chief walked over and pulled the door open.
What he found inside made his jaw drop.
Phillips and Wright were inside the cramped storage closet, locked in a passionate embrace, oblivious to the world around them. "*Mwha…Muah…Umma…Chu*"
(A/N: Idk how to write kissing noises. Lmao)
The sight was so out of place, so absurd, that for a moment, the entire precinct was struck silent with shock. "…"
Then, a few stifled laughs began to break the tension, quickly escalating into a ripple of awkward chuckles and murmurs.
Peggy's eyes narrowed at Peter, instantly recognizing that mischievous smirk on his face. She knew he had something to do with this…
The Chief's face turned from shock to outrage. "What the hell is this?!" He bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls of the precinct.
Instantly, the two officers inside the closet snapped out of their daze, looking around in confusion as if they had no idea how they'd ended up in such a compromising position.
"Huh?!" one muttered in confusion, while the other shoved him away, snapping, "Why are you so close? Get the hell away from me!"
As they stumbled out of the closet, the Chief grabbed them by the collars and yanked them into the open, his face a mask of fury.
Watching from beside Peter, Mikaela couldn't hold it in any longer. The tension that had been building up inside her, all the anger and frustration from the years of dealing with these two, finally burst free in the form of uncontrollable laughter.
She laughed so hard that tears began to well up in her eyes, her body shaking with the sheer force of her amusement. She didn't care that everyone was staring at her—this was the sweetest moment of revenge she had ever experienced.
These two officers had ruined her life. They were the ones who sent her father to prison, who slapped her with a charge of aiding and abetting, making her a felon at just eighteen.
And now, here they were, humiliated in front of the entire precinct. She couldn't quite grasp how it had come to this, but it was poetic justice nonetheless.
Peter smiled beside her, 'She must really hate those two…'
As Mikaela laughed, she realized that she never would have guessed these two were gay, especially considering how they'd been sexually harassing her every time they met. The irony of it only made the situation funnier.
The Chief, his face a mask of frustration, glared down at the two officers as he questioned them. "Do you have his money?" he demanded, pointing at Peter.
Phillips and Wright both shook their heads vigorously, denying everything. "No, we don't have it! We didn't take anything!" Phillips insisted, his voice quivering with desperation.
Seeing this going nowhere, Peter stepped forward, his gaze fixed on one of Phillips' pant pockets, which seemed to bulge suspiciously. "Why are you even asking? Just search them."
The Chief hesitated for a moment, but a single, sharp glare from Peggy was all it took to spur him into action. "Hold them down!" he barked at the other officers, who quickly moved in to restrain Phillips and Wright.
Despite their complaints and struggles, the two officers were soon pinned down by their colleagues. The Chief wasted no time in patting them down, his hands moving expertly over their uniforms. When he reached into Phillips' pocket, he pulled out a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills.
The Chief held the money up for everyone to see, his expression one of disgust. "You didn't take his money, huh?" he sneered, waving the cash in Phillips' face.
Phillips tried to keep his composure, his mind racing for an excuse. "That's my money!" he insisted, though the look in his eyes betrayed his panic. "You can't prove otherwise!"
The Chief scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "You don't make nearly enough to be carrying around this much cash, Phillips. Who do you think you're fooling?"
Phillips smirked, though it was a weak attempt at defiance. "You still can't prove it's his."
Peter, who had been watching the exchange with a growing smirk, stepped forward and calmly took the money from the Chief's hand. "Yeah, I can."
With a confident flick of his wrist, Peter opened the stack of hundreds like a book and pulled out a small, neatly tucked bank card from within the bills. The card had Peter's name on it, clear as day. He held it up for the Chief to see, a satisfied smile on his face.
The two corrupt cops' faces paled as they realized they had been caught red-handed. Peggy, her expression hardening, turned to the Chief and spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. "I want these two fired. Immediately."
The Chief nodded, his earlier hesitation gone. "Yes, ma'am. I was thinking the same thing."
As the other officers moved in to place Phillips and Wright in cuffs, the situation took another unexpected turn. Wright, the one who didn't have the money on him, quickly tried to distance himself from the crime. "I didn't take it! It was all Phillips! He's the one who stole the money!"
Phillips' eyes widened in shock and betrayal. "What?! You were in on this too, Wright! Don't you dare try to pin this on me!"
Within seconds, the two former partners were at each other's throats, shouting accusations and revealing a laundry list of crimes the other had committed. Each word only further incriminated them, and soon, the precinct was buzzing with murmurs as everyone took in the extent of their corruption.
Mikaela watched the spectacle unfold, her laughter subsiding into a wide, satisfied grin. This was the best day of her life. After years of suffering under the thumb of these two, she was finally seeing them get what they deserved.
As Phillips and Wright were dragged into the back of the precinct in handcuffs, still hurling insults at each other, Peter turned to Mikaela, who was still grinning from ear to ear. "Feels good, huh?"
Mikaela nodded, the joy of the moment still bubbling within her. "You have no idea."
————
As they exited the precinct, the cool night air hit them. Mikaela took a deep breath, relishing the sense of freedom that came with stepping outside. But her moment of relief was quickly interrupted when she noticed something that made her stop dead in her tracks.
Parked in the center of the precinct's parking lot sat a sleek black helicopter. The polished surface gleamed under the streetlights, and in the pilot's seat, a man in a black suit patiently waited, his posture rigid and professional.
Mikaela's eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight. "Is that… a helicopter?" she muttered to herself, hardly believing what she was seeing.
Peter grinned, not surprised in the least. "Yup."
The moment Peggy and Steve appeared, the pilot seemed to come to life, flipping switches and preparing the helicopter for takeoff. The roar of the rotors filled the air, and the powerful wind they generated sent stray leaves and bits of debris swirling around the parking lot.
Mikaela stared at the scene before her, realizing that the people Peter had called for help were far more high-profile than she could have ever imagined. This wasn't just some ordinary rescue—these people were important. Very important.
Peter turned to Peggy and Steve, giving them a casual mock salute. "Thanks again for the save," he said, his voice carrying over the noise of the helicopter.
Peggy didn't ignore him this time. Instead, she gave him a nod and a small, almost grudging smile. "No problem. I owe you more than enough as it is. A small trip to a police station is nothing."
Steve just shrugged, his demeanor relaxed. "I didn't really do anything besides stand around. I just came along for the ride."
Mikaela, who was still processing everything, suddenly realized she needed to thank them too. Gathering herself, she stepped forward. "Thank you both for getting us out of there. I'm Mikaela, by the way. Your grandson helped me… and, well, that kind of got us into this mess in the first place." She glanced at Peter with a small smile, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and guilt. "So it's all my fault, I guess."
Peggy's expression softened as she looked at Mikaela, the warmth in her smile showing a stark contrast to how she treated Peter. "It was no trouble at all, Mikaela. But just so you know, Peter isn't actually my grandson. He was just trying to mess with me."
Mikaela blinked in surprise, then turned to Peter with a glare. "Wait, he does that to you too?"
Peggy mirrored Mikaela's glare, crossing her arms. "Oh, absolutely. He's horrible, isn't he?"
Peter found himself on the receiving end of two glares that could have cut through steel. He raised his hands in surrender, feeling targeted. "Hold on, wait a minute! I'm not as bad as you're making me out to be. I'm a gentleman and a scholar—a man of culture!" he protested, a playful tone in his voice.
Peggy and Mikaela just stared at him as if he had completely lost his mind. Steve, standing off to the side, watched the exchange with a grin.
Finally, Peggy rolled her eyes, done with the conversation. "Yeah, well, walk your cultured a*s home, because we're leaving." She grabbed Steve's arm and pulled him toward the helicopter, clearly eager to be done with Peter's antics for the night.
As they climbed into the helicopter, Peter looked around, suddenly realizing that his car was nowhere to be seen. His heart sank as the realization hit him—his Camaro was likely still parked at Mikaela's house, and now he had no way to get there.
"Wait!" Peter called out, trying to get Peggy's attention. "My car's not here!"
Peggy, already seated in the helicopter, leaned out of the door with a scoff. "Too bad," she said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the small bit of revenge for his earlier antics. With that, she slammed the door shut, the sound almost drowned out by the roar of the helicopter.
As the helicopter lifted off the ground, Peter could see Peggy's smug expression through the window. Steve, however, gave him a wave, mouthing the words, "Thanks again," before the helicopter ascended into the night sky.
Peter watched as the helicopter disappeared, a mix of annoyance and amusement on his face. He couldn't help but chuckle—Peggy had definitely gotten the last laugh this time.
Beside him, Mikaela stood watching in stunned silence. After a moment, she turned to Peter, her expression a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "So… now what?"
Peter sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as reality set in. He glanced around the nearly empty parking lot, then back at Mikaela. "Well, there's only one thing left to do," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and mischief. He started walking, motioning for Mikaela to follow. "Come on, let's find a car to steal."
Mikaela's eyes widened in shock as she hurried after him. "You're kidding, right?" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of disbelief and concern. "The police station is right behind us! We just got out of there!"
Peter didn't slow down, his expression unbothered as he scanned the area for parked cars. "And that's exactly why they won't expect us to do it," he replied, his tone calm and confident. "Besides, we need a way to get back to your place, don't we?"
Mikaela opened her mouth to protest, but the words caught in her throat. There was a strange logic to what he was saying, twisted as it might be.
Still, the thought of committing a crime right outside a police station made her stomach churn. "This is insane…" she muttered, more to herself than to him.
After a moment of walking, they came up to a car—a simple sedan parked a little too far from the entrance of the precinct to be watched closely. Peter stopped in front of it, eyeing the car with a critical look. Mikaela hovered behind him, her anxiety growing with each passing second.
Without a word, Peter raised his elbow and, with a swift motion, slammed it into the driver's side window. The glass shattered with a loud crash, the sound echoing through the empty lot.
"?!" Mikaela jumped, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the broken window in disbelief.
Peter turned to her, completely unfazed by the destruction he had just caused. "Hop in," he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Mikaela stood frozen for a moment, her mind racing as she tried to process what had just happened. She couldn't believe she was about to do this—again…
With a resigned sigh, Mikaela walked around to the passenger side door. "I can't believe I'm doing this…" she muttered as Peter sat in the driver's seat and leaned over to unlock her door from the inside.
As she opened the door and slid into the seat beside him, a wave of nostalgia washed over her. It all brought back memories of the times with her father, stealing cars under the guise of quality time together.
Peter reached under the steering wheel, ripping off a panel and fumbling with the wires hidden beneath as he tried to hotwire the car without using Mechu-Deru. It took him a moment to figure out which wires to use, his brow furrowing in concentration.
Mikaela, sitting beside him, watched him struggle for a few seconds before she couldn't take it anymore. "Here, let me," she said, reaching over.
Peter looked up, slightly surprised, as Mikaela deftly pulled out two wires from below the steering wheel. With a practiced ease, she pinched the wires together, and within seconds, the car roared to life.
"Damn, that was hot…" Peter muttered under his breath, genuinely impressed.
Mikaela blushed at his comment, though she quickly tried to cover it up. "Shut up and just drive the car before a cop sees us," she said, trying to sound annoyed but failing to hide the small smile tugging at her lips.
Peter smirked and put the car in gear, driving them away from the police station and back toward Mikaela's house. As they drove, the silence between them was comfortable, the adrenaline from earlier slowly fading away.
After a few minutes, Mikaela broke the silence, her curiosity getting the better of her. "So… was that really Captain America back there?" she asked, glancing over at Peter.
Peter hesitated for a moment, not entirely sure how much he should reveal. "Maybe," he replied vaguely, keeping his eyes on the road.
Mikaela frowned at his reluctance to answer. "Come on, I'm not an idiot. I'm pretty sure it was him. I've practically memorized his pictures from my history textbook at school. It was him, right?"
Peter glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "Memorized? What, are you a fan or something?"
Mikaela felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. She hadn't meant to admit that out loud. "Not really… I just always thought he was kinda hot with all those bulging muscles…" she admitted awkwardly, realizing she probably shouldn't have said that, especially since Peter had been flirting with her all day.
Peter raised a brow, a scoff escaping his lips. "Well, don't get any ideas. He's not into girls your age."
Mikaela looked at him, confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Peter chuckled. "You saw that granny he was with? They're together."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "What? That was true? I thought she said you were just messing with her."
Peter shook his head. "I was messing with her by calling her grandma and making a scene, but everything else was true. They were dating back in 1942 as well."
The car went silent as Mikaela processed this information. "So that was Captain America… How is he alive? I thought he died."
"It's complicated," Peter replied, his tone indicating that he wasn't going to give a full explanation. "Maybe I'll explain another time."
Mikaela frowned, clearly wanting to know more, but she didn't push it. Instead, she asked, "So, how do you know them?"
"I helped them with some things, mainly Peggy. She's a friend of mine." Peter answered vaguely, his eyes on he road.
Mikaela nodded slowly, realizing that Peter wasn't going to give her any definitive answers, which was infuriating. Though it somehow made him more mysterious in her eyes.
Soon enough, they arrived back at her house, and Peter was relieved to see that Bumblebee was still parked in the driveway. Peter pulled the stolen car over to the curb, parking on the street in front of the house.
Mikaela turned to Peter, a small smile on her lips. "I guess this is it, for real this time."
Peter nodded, returning her smile. "Yeah, but we'll see each other again. You have my number, so make sure to call me."
Mikaela nodded and opened her door, getting out. But before she closed it, she hesitated, then ducked her head back in. "I'm guessing I probably shouldn't tell anyone about meeting Captain America, right?"
Peter smiled, shaking his head. "No, you shouldn't."
She nodded again, ready to leave, but Peter's voice stopped her. "Oh, and one more thing."
Mikaela glanced back just in time to catch Peter tugging off his long-sleeve shirt, unveiling his chiseled, muscular physique sculpted by years of rigorous Jedi and Sith training. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight, her gaze tracing every defined muscle. 'Where the hell was he hiding all that…!?'
"Steve isn't the only guy in the world with a nice body," Peter said with a smirk. "And mine didn't come from getting juiced up with a magic potion."
Mikaela's jaw dropped slightly as she ogled him, her mouth practically watering. "…"
After a moment, Mikaela seemed to realize what was going on here. She quickly composed herself, a knowing smirk forming on her lips. "You wouldn't happen to be jealous because I said Captain America was hot, would you?"
Peter frowned, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. "Yes, yes I am. Is that a problem?"
Mikaela was a bit surprised that he admitted it, but she couldn't help but find it endearing. "No, no problem at all," she said softly, leaning forward. Before Peter could react, she pecked him on the cheek with a quick, surprise kiss.
As Peter stood momentarily stunned, caught off guard, Mikaela leaned in close, her voice a soft whisper in his ear. "If it makes you feel better, I much prefer your muscles over his~" she declared, her hand brushing against his abs.
Then, without another word, she got out of the car, closing the door behind her. And as she walked toward her house, there was a slight swagger in her step, her hips swinging a little more than usual, knowing that Peter was watching.
Peter snapped out of his daze just in time to see her unlock her front door and slip inside. The door closed with a soft click, and Peter was left sitting in the car, a grin slowly spreading across his face.
'My life is awesome,' he thought as he drove off, searching for a place to ditch the stolen car before doubling back on foot to retrieve Bumblebee.
…
Inside the house, Mikaela leaned back against the door, sliding down to the floor as she muttered to herself, "I can't believe I just did that…" A mix of embarrassment and giddiness bubbled up inside her, a small smile tugging at her lips.
A/N: 4000 words :)
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