10. The Files

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a/n ok i dont like author's notes but im just proud of myself bc i wrote 2k words in this chapter and i have never wrote 2k words since i started writing. ok you can read now sorry.

The scent of toast wafted through the air, bringing Emma out of her sleep. She blinked slowly, looking around to find where she was. The sight of her couch came in view and she realized she had curled up in a chair and went to sleep last night.

Peter had also ended up spending the night. He slept on the couch, having fell asleep during Attack of the Clones. Emma ended up falling asleep in the chair some time during last battle.

She took in the scent of the toast until the smell soured. Emma was quick to get into the kitchen to see Peter pinching two pieces of toast, cursing as he dropped them on a plate. Emma looked over at the sink full of unnecessary dishes. She stomped up to Peter and grabbed the back of his neck.

"What the fuck are you fucking doing, motherfucker?" Emma pulled Peter away from the stove and turned the eye off of high. She took the pan of burnt eggs off the stove and tossed them in the trash. "I can't even sleep in my own damn house without something being fucked up."

"I was just trying to make breakfast." Peter scratched the back of his neck, moving away from Emma.

"Did you forget how to fucking cook or do you prefer black eggs and dry ass toast?" Emma turned on her heel, putting her hands on her hips. "And how the fuck did you manage to fill the sink up when all I came in here to see was eggs and toast?"

"I didn't know what to use."

Emma moved to the sink and turned it on. "How the fuck do you even mess up eggs in the first place?" She huffed. Her head almost blew off when she pulled the pizza cutter out of the pile of dirty dishes. "Why the fuck did you need a pizza cutter?"

Peter stood there quietly, feeling guilty due to Emma's bitching. The doorbell rang, but Peter was too scared to even move. It rang again and Emma stood up straight from putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

"Are you gonna get the fucking door or am I your fucking housewife?"

"Sorry." Peter quickly muttered before slipping into the living room.

"Ah, hell! I owe Bucky ten bucks." Sam's eyes grew wide as a disheveled Peter opened the door.

Peter shook his head. "No, no, no." He pulled the door back for Sam to come in. "We fell asleep watching Star Wars."

"Lame." Sam said, heading toward the kitchen.

"Be careful." Peter warned, grabbing Sam's wrist. "She's in a bad mood."

"It's 'cause you didn't dick her down last night." Sam chuckled.

"Dude, shut the fuck up." Peter hissed. "I have no plans in ever doing that, she's my friend."

"For now." Sam laughed, turning the corner for the kitchen.

Peter huffed and followed him. Emma heard Sam laughing and turned around with a frying pan held up.

"You make one damn joke and I'm gonna knock your fucking head off." Emma threatened.

"Damn, Petey, what did you fucking do?" Sam grinned, sitting at the dinner table.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Emma asked. "Shouldn't you be with Buck or something?"

"For your information, Bucky is on a date." Sam followed Emma's eyes as she sat across from him. "I came here to tell you two what to do for your mission."

"Shoot." Emma glanced over at Peter leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He sent her a small smile, then looked at Sam.

"Go to Henderson's place. Interrogate Sara, then go to the jail and interrogate Adam." Sam said.

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