Cataloging forensics of recent cases. Great.

My jaw dropped all the way down to hell upon the sight of this thing called... Paperwork. Files and hard copies of reports on recent cases solved while I was on 'vacay' lay in piles on the living room's table. I guess I don't have enough space for this shit in my room. Reports of labeled evidence, technically paper with information crucially discovered during cases, are everywhere. Good thing I'm wearing sweats today.

Its the next morning and upon my return from my visit, aka training, from my local dojo in preparation for what I am about to face at SHIELD, I am now present upon... This. Apparently, I have to catalog all of this forensic evidence and reports. I am burdened with this in return from well, apparently grieving but hey, why not stop a destructively-controlled god from invading the planet with an extraterrestrial army? And other of the following of events.

'Blue' the kitten is sitting on the couch nearby the dreadful heaps of paperwork on the coffee table, staring at me with those blue, kitten eyes.

Abbey decided to leave me with this special surprise dropped off from the FBI forensics headquarters in Quantico. With my eyes, I can count up to twenty to twenty three files all piled up. I sat down beside the kitten on the couch, still wide-eyed.

Picking up a file, I start analyzing, then reading and reading and reading...

~Abbey's POV~

"BUT YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO CUT ME OFF!"  I sang the lyrics on the top of my lungs, hopefully in tune.  So technically, I'm screaming, music-wise. Screaming in my car, on my way to work.  Which is a psychology clinical institute, as I am almost late for one of my appointments.  But the shitty thing is, there's only one appointment scheduled today for Dr. Myers.

"SOMEBODY!  NOW YOU'RE JUST SOMEBODY THAT I--" Then my amazing singing was interrupted by my phone ringing from inside my purse.

Thankfully, I halted the car before a red light.  So without any further ado, I reached to my passenger side, reached for my phone from my purse.

I tapped the answer button, transferring the call through the sound system of my car.  The lobby manager, is shown as caller ID.  "Dr. Myers."  I greet in my uppermost professional voice, but sadly, my voice cracked from the screaming-singing.

"Good morning, Dr. Myers.  I have to inform you that sadly, the patient had to cancel the therapy session today due to other duties he has to attend to."  She cuts to the chase in her British accent.

I groan in irritation, "shit."  I mutter to myself, because I put effort when I legit had only like ten minutes on the clock to be on time for his session!  Cam, the lobby manager, chuckled from the other line.  "I am afraid Dr. Watson won't be able to make it."  Then she adds a sarcastic remark, "and please, keep profanity remarks to yourself, Abbey."

I roll my eyes, scoffing, "manners aren't necessarily for mention .  I'm just... tired and I legit thought I was running late." Which I really am...  Or was.

"Well, I guess you could say luck turned itself around."

"Keep the formalities to yourself, Cam.  I'm free for myself today after all."  I grin as I take an u-turn, re-routing to go home back to my penthouse.

"And like I said, luck.  May you enjoy the rest of your day-off."  Ugh, she's so formal.

I chuckle, we're quite close as friends.  "While you enjoy your, day-on!  Eh?" Wow, I really suck on being funny for a minute. Or second.

She laughs on the other line, "no.  Just don't."  Then she hung up.

Sighing, I resumed back to my screaming-singing, this time starting on a new song.  This day's actually getting a little better for a change.

"JUST A SMALL-TOWN GIRL,
LIVIN' IN A LONELY WORLD.
SHE TOOK THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN GOING ANYWHEEERRRE!"

~Back at the Penthouse~

Humming some of the song whilst walking up the small flight of steps, I enter the building of Gaslight Penthouses here in Arlington, Virginia.
Honestly, I'm always grateful for when Amelia offered me to be room mates. The place couldn't get any classier or lavishly fancy.  Our friendship couldn't get any better.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pick it up, reading the message from Scott as I press the button to transport me to the third level, to the penthouse.

Grinning down at my phone at his cheeky and sweet message, I then can overhear distant conversation with familiar voices. A flirtatious conversation, to be precise. Which honestly, is quite projecting, enough for it to be too annoying.

I look over to my right, finding familiar blonde-haired people conversing a few meters away. One seems to be uncomfortable in his current situation, and one, like I stated, is reeling her catch, or as she thinks she is. In a flirtatious way. And that's judging from bits in pieces of the conversation, presentation of body language, basing on neurological anomalies, such as the woman keeps twirling a piece of her hair between her fingertips and one hand is sassily placed on her hip. And every so often, she throws herself in a fit of giggles after every time the guy says something.

Annoying A. F.

This scenario is where I would describe as "minutely flirting", especially when there is a new attendant or individual in the building. Commonly in buildings where our important educational classes occur, aka schools (especially with people who know how to flirt), and workplaces, the bitches are the ones up to the job. Those people will do this constantly.

The guy? My analysis of the following observations is up next.

The young man, is slightly in a posture of droopiness, and seems tense on the footing and stance. Falling for her charm. Or not. He has a small bouquet tucked behind his back in hand and she doesn't seem to notice. As well as the fact that from this angle, his eyebrows are furrowed and he is smiling lopsidedly.  I bet his pretty grins with perfect teeth could be his gesture of being polite to a flirtatious woman. In addition, even from a distance, you could notice how his cheeks flush bright red once after her flirtatious, yet tedious, comments or compliments.

And according to bits and pieces of their conversation, he declares pronouns such as "ma'am" or "madame". Literally. Additionally nodding in understanding after her statements represents his politeness towards people, and an old-fashioned phraseology. To restate. Also giving him a likable aura towards everyone.

In conclusion, his uncomfortable, current scene and body language suggests that he can't admit to her that he already is committed in a romantic or sexual relationship with his significant other, even after a brief time period, indicated by his well-mannered actions. Which is actually what the planet needs more men of this kind, but to remain to the topic-- He is either way at least swooning over a lady friend at least. There are possible solutions, but those seem primary based on my observations, which briefly discussed his behavioral patterns towards people sentimentally and intimately.

And also from this angle, his face is so seemingly familiar that I had to squint. Because his name is on the tip of my nose, according to his handsome and masculine figure peeping even from that brown, leather jacket. Dressing seemed a little old-fashioned, but hair styling seemed present day. And once again, judging from the style, it seemed easy to maintain, giving me the idea that his occupation screams that he's technically time-consumed most of the time. But that information isn't necessary for evaluating this situation. That information is necessary for identifying the poor victim beneath her annoying clutches.

Transitioning to her, again, I already know who's her. She, is Hanna Pierce. 

Tattoo artist, the most fake, annoying, bully, rude, spoiled person on the planet... Our neighbor on the floor above us, and I'm still wondering on how she'd land to live in a place like this. I swear to God, she is a motherfuckin--

I start stomping my way towards the pair, annoyance filled my eyes once I caught the-- I couldn't even think of a word to replace 'bitch' right now, so profanities could be spared later.  "Hey, no flirting in the lobby!"  I cry out, not too loud to catch everyone's attention in the place and then give them the chance to start instigating bitch fits.

Hanna's face whipped at my direction, her face filled with disgust once her eyes caught my sight.  She scoffed, placing a hand on her hip.  And the guy, well, he turned to look at me too and I immediately recognize his face.  Its John Cena!! Ha ha, no, just kidding, its Steve!  Steve Rogers!  Why's he here? 

The reason I couldn't recognize him at first was because of his hair!  Nice hair cut, wonder boy!  But the flowers are probably for...

I immediately caught the sight of his face when it was filled with relief.  Back to Hanna, she remarked, "oh, since when are you hallway monitor?"

I smiled with the uppermost professionalism and maturity I can display towards her.  Sending a calm, but irritated glance at Steve, I then face her back.  "Ever since you moved two years ago.  And correction," I raise a hand towards the ceiling, "this, sweetie, this is a lobby!"

Hanna is unfazed, then turned back at Steve.  Steve rose an eyebrow at my irritated form, surprised. "Abbey?  I-I mean, Dr. Myers?"

Hanna scoffed in annoyance as she turned to him, sending him her look of repulsiveness towards me.  "You know her?"  She asks with the most stupid tone, like a spoiled brat just graduated from the Plastics with high credits.   I rolled my eyes so much that my head almost rolled off.

"Yeah, he's taken." I then say as I pulled his confused body close to me by grabbing his arm.  She huffed, but I am correct.  He is taken.  But that arm though... Even through the jacket!

Steve gave me a puzzled expression from the corner of my eye.  "Taken?!  Ma'am, I am not some form of--"  From there, I felt like giving Captain America a face palm from there.

"NO, I mean like-- you know what?  Never mind." I attempt clarifying.

Hanna starts cackling.  Cackling.  She cackled with the venom laced through all of it.  "Yeah," then she snorts as I roll my eyes, "he's taken.  By you?"  She mockingly points as Steve and I glare.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am taken on behalf of my maturity.  But the case is simply being different with the flaw of not being taken by him!" I slap Steve's shoulder, who sent me a look of again, still confusion, and well irritation from Hanna bickering.

But she couldn't stop laughing, "right."  Then she pulls Steve closer to her, "but I'm not."

I rub my temples at the dumb ass right in front of me, no, not Steve, "yeah, but like I said, he's taken."

Her face drops, as I start laughing at her priceless face.  Steve shakes out of her greedy grip and shows her the flowers he's manage to obscure behind his leather jacket through all of this early morning madness.  "Ma'am, sadly and certainly these aren't for you."

His frown was deep as he speaks for his defense.  Continuing, "and I hope that you'll excuse me, madame, I have to proceed on making my way up to the person whom I'm taken with."

A proud smile was curls on my face as I watch Hanna's jaw drop all the way down to hell.  "Are you kidding me?!"  Then she faced me, "Amelia freaking Vale?!"  Wow, her first act of being smart today!

"Congrats, kid, you finally got it."  I remark as Steve stood by my side, still with the unamused expression on his face.

She scoffed.  "No wonder you're standing up to his defense, Doctor.  Turns out just to be for your little traumatized friend of yours."  I gasped as soon as those words escaped her lips.

"Hey!"

But she continued, "the whole place knows.  As a matter of fact," she turns to Steve, "the whole planet knows.  That stupid plane crash couldn't even been avoided by that stupid driver of the plane!"

I stomp a step towards her, "correction; its a pilot." I say through gritted teeth.

But no!  She kept going, "I don't give a shit, Myers.  But what I give a shit about is of the fact that she's been cowering in that penthouse of yours, still thinking of a way to turn her life back around without her precious mommy."  Every word was laced with poison, poison that could've stung my friend so badly if she were here.  And I realized that I've said that previous sentence as if she were dead.  Which she isn't...  But ANYWAYS--

I glared with all the daggers I can spare.  Hopefully those daggers can be able to pierce her unpleasant heart, like Captain America's shield kicking Nazi ass.  Or HYDRA?  Don't remember, besides, that was taught like in seventh grade.  BUT BACK TO THE CURRENT SCENARIO, ABBEY!!

Steve stepped in.  "Ma'am, watch on what you are saying through that mouth of yours."  He rose his chin up high, eyebrows furrowed, giving her a towering death glare that made her cower with a little step back.  Steve continues, "'cause as a matter of fact, she became strong and kept a brave face through her 'grieving' and went through an even tougher time than what you'll ever go through."  Her expression dropped, defeat splattered across her entire face. I smiled for what he said, standing up for my best friend. 

"Step aside so I may avoid your ignorant gaze.  So if you'll excuse me, I'll be making my way up to the third floor.  Where she isn't currently cowering into."  Then he turned on his heel and made his way to an opened yet empty elevator.

Without a last glance, I do too followed Steve into the elevator.  Leaving the speechless, yet antagonized Hanna Pierce in this little early morning episode.  Which in conclusion, it isn't that bad.

The elevator doors slide closed in front of Steve and I once we were inside.  A small smile is still curled on my lips.  I take a small side glance to Steve, his jaw no longer clenched and with an expression softer, less angered from the clutches of Hanna.  I let out my hand, "now for a proper introduction."

Glancing sideways, he rose an eyebrow.  But then slapped a proud smirk on his face and shook my hand.  "Apologies for that previous little episode but may I introduce myself more properly and maturely.  Dr. Abbey Myers.  Or based on antecedent matters beforehand, Abbey Myers, excluding the formal title."

Steve nodded, "my apologies as well ma'am, for rude actions that I've displayed earlier.  Steve Rogers."

I scoff, "you kidding?  She deserved a little more rudeness for what she has done before.  But over all, I like you, Captain.  Amelia deserves you, doing once again a heroic measures at hand."

"Oh, I guess I'll take that as a compliment."  Or a friendly statement because it certainly is one.  That was pretty heroic a while ago.

I giggle, "seriously.  And no offense, I hate formalities."  Steve rose an eyebrow to my remark as the perky levels raise in my brain-gage.  "So, Steve!  What's good?"

"Uh... Good?" He awkwardly replies, grinning lopsidedly.

I burst into laughter, "yeah.  She'd love on helping you with that."

He laughs along with me, "that bad, huh?"

"Oh yeah.  You've got lots of catching up to do, wonder boy.  Even from after what I've heard that you defrosted like three years ago."

Then he awkwardly remarks, "uh, no dip, Sherlock."  I became surprised, then he lowered his voice, "how about that?"

"That wasn't too bad, wonder boy." I gave him a playful pat on the back. 

He grinned, which I've gotta say, its worth swooning for.  I then added, "Nice haircut by the way."

"Thank you. Why not spice myself up a little bit?"

"Ha, the 21st century takes a toll on old people, no offense. And by the way, no problemo." He shrugs, as I smile to myself on how likable this guy can really get, even though we met under the circumstance where apparently my best friend's life is hanging on a silk thread. Even thinner, a spider's, silk thread.  Plus, through a computer!

Then the elevator doors slide open, and with the courtesy of Steve's gentlemanly gesture, he let me enter the penthouse first.  His first gesture of chivalry he displayed as well in our very first, face to face meeting.

I then cried out, "I'm home, baby!" Then I turned to the guy I brought home today, "by the way, take a look around if you like." Steve nods and thanks me, taking an overview glance of what the penthouse is currently providing. Continuing as I toss my keys on the small table nearby the elevator or in this case, our "penthouse entrance", I add. "Quick tour;" I start pointing to various directions, "that is the living room," I point east of the penthouse, "over there's practically the kitchen and dining area, the restroom is located in the hallway close to the kitchen," I point west. To conclude, "there are also other rooms located where you really don't need info about, but obviously there's a flight of stairs leading to the other rooms. Yeah, I know, big place."

Steve nodded in understanding as he starts venturing the living room, his shoes quietly tapping against the hard wood floor. "Thank you ma'am, I appreciate it."

"You are welcome, wonder boy." I reply as I start making my way to the flight of stairs, but then I halted.

I briefly scanned throughout the whole first level of our penthouse.  Weird, Amelia's nowhere to be found.  From the living room to the kitchen. 

Until I found her sitting in the balcony.  With that little kitten resting on her lap, his curious little eyes watching her with skepticism. Which seems like she's reading through a case file, probably cataloging forensic evidence from recent cases while she was on 'vacay'.

"There she is..." I mumble. Then I turn to Steve, whose have a picture frame of Amelia and I at the beach in his hand. With the courtesy of Scott taking the photo of us, which was so tumblr... "I'll be upstairs while you look for her. I believe I've forgotten the mention of the balcony." I winked as I make my way up the flight of stairs.

Steve simply blushed, but he nodded as starts making his way for Amelia in the balcony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NICE LITTLE CHAPTER.

HANNA PIERCE IS NAMED AFTER A BEST FRIEND OF MINE.  LOOK CLOSELY AT THE NAME.  mWUaHAHAHAHAA.  AND THE REAL HANNA IS THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE OF THIS HANNA.

YOU MAY REFERENCE THE PHOTO ON THE SIDE TO THE ONE ABBEY IS TAKING ABOUT. WHICH ACTUALLY IS SO TUMBLR BECAUSE IT IS FROM TUMBLR.

I SHERLOCKED FOR A SECOND THERE, TWICE, I DARE YOU TO LOOK FOR IT. AND THEN I STATED A DIRECT QUOTE FROM THE REAL ABBEY MYERS. "I ROLLED MY EYES SO MUCH THAT MY HEAD ALMOST ROLLED OFF," IS WHAT I HAVE ACCLAIMED FROM OUR AWESOME TEXTING, DISCUSSING ABOUT THE STUPID HOES WANDERING OUR PLANET. AKA SCHOOL. THEREFORE, ITS SIMPLY GENIUS.

THAT IS ALL.

PART TWO IS...

FLIP DOWN!
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WOW, I THAT WAS HELLA LAME. EHEHEH

JUST-JUST DO IT.

~ACOUSTIC QUIVER