It was late at night.
Adam's apartment.
"NYPD!"
A sharp, confident female cop burst in, gripping her gun with both hands and shouting as she stepped forward.
"Freeze!"
But then, a shadow slipped behind her silently, pressing a gun to her back.
"Oh no, I've been tricked!" the cop thought, her heart sinking.
Boom! Thunder rumbled outside, lightning flashing as a wild storm raged on—like the perfect dramatic background music signaling her impending doom.
No one yelled "cut."
Because the director wasn't around.
Good thing they were all pros. This tricky long take, one of the toughest shots in filmmaking, flowed effortlessly in a single, unbroken scene—no editing needed later.
The cop was none other than the badass Kate Beckett. She'd rushed over after getting a call from Adam confessing to something, only to find herself in this crazy, dangerous mess.
Time passed—how long, who knows?
"I beg you!" Kate pleaded.
"No mercy!" Adam shot back, cold as ice, just like some ruthless sidekick might be. "That's what you get for talking smack about me behind my back!"
"I didn't say anything!" Kate protested, then cracked a grin. "I was just keeping it real. You gonna deny it? Don't tell me you called in a fake report for no reason… Did Jesse get it wrong when she called you out?"
"…"
Adam had no comeback.
Kate's nose was too sharp—she could sniff out the truth like a bloodhound. Even though she'd never met Adam's other buddies, she'd already mentally cataloged Robin and the crew, no shower could wash that intuition away.
"So, how'd you and this Agent Peggy become buddies?" Adam asked, eager to change the subject now that the acting bit was over.
"We both enforce the law in New York, and we're both women—getting to know each other isn't exactly weird, right?" Kate replied, stretching lazily with a half-smirk. "Why so curious about Jesse?"
"Just wondering," Adam said with a chuckle. "She's the first FBI agent to show up at my door. As a law-abiding guy, I'm not used to seeing legendary FBI folks—or even you NYPD types. It freaks me out! I can't sleep unless I figure it out."
"Pfft! Sounds like you're mocking us," Kate said, rolling her eyes. "You? Scared of us?"
"Of course I'm scared!" Adam said, dead serious. "You guys have all that discretionary power—traffic control too. You can just hide out anywhere, wait for us to drive by, tail us, and then claim we were speeding to pull us over.
And it gets worse.
We've got to do exactly what you say, even if it's humiliating, or else you can just say you 'felt threatened' and shoot us dead. Even if we follow every rule, if you get some vague gut feeling that we're still a threat, you can still shoot us.
That's you NYPD folks.
The FBI? Even scarier. They don't bother waiting for us to drive by—they just knock on our door. How could I not be afraid?"
"…"
Kate's lip twitched. She was seriously offended but couldn't argue back.
Because Adam was right.
Stuff like that happened every year—way too often.
But they couldn't just strip cops of that discretion because of a few bad apples, could they? In a country where anyone could be packing heat, without that leeway, a cop might not see the gun coming until it's too late.
It was a bloody lesson learned from too many good officers going down.
Still, every group's got its jerks. Some cops used their power to settle personal scores—targeting whoever rubbed them the wrong way. As an honest cop, Kate despised those types too.
"It's not that extreme," she said weakly. "Cops who break the law without cause get held accountable…"
"Yeah, but only if I'm still alive to see it," Adam cut in. "If I'm gone, what's the point of someone chasing justice for me? Plus, knowing my dumb brother Gabe, he'd probably forgive the guy on my behalf.
And even if they prosecute, it's a coin toss—paid leave, a decade-long trial, or a sentence that gets slashed with shady deals. Worst case, they fight for years, finally win, and then the guy gets pardoned before even stepping into jail.
You're NYPD's finest, Kate. Tell me—isn't that all true? Shouldn't I be scared?"
"You're famous, you've got nothing to worry about…" Kate said with a bitter laugh. "Okay, I get your point."
"Hmph!" Adam snorted.
"Quit with the 'hmph' already," Kate teased. "Doesn't it all trace back to the messed-up system you super-rich folks helped create?"
"Fair enough," Adam grinned. "Let's drop the heavy stuff. Tell me more about your buddy, Agent Peggy."
"What about her?" Kate asked, sounding bored. "What do you wanna know?"
"She looks young—got into the FBI that fast?" Adam pressed, curious.
"Yup," Kate nodded. "Jesse got scouted by the FBI before she even finished college."
"Recruited in college?" Adam's eyes widened. "What, does she have some superpower? Or is the FBI just that desperate these days?"
Ten years later, Jesse Peggy would be stuck doing background checks—desk jockey stuff. For an agency like the FBI, the real elites worked the field. Her young recruitment didn't match that vibe at all.
"Classified," Kate said lazily.
"Seriously?" Adam scoffed. "Everything's 'classified' with you. It's just us here—no one else is gonna hear it. What's the harm? You don't actually think I'm a spy using my charm to pry secrets out of you, do you?"
"Ha!" Kate burst out laughing. "Charm? You've got some nerve saying that. Fine, I'll tell you—but you can't blab, and definitely don't mention it to Jesse."
"I swear!" Adam raised his hand with a grin.
"I don't know all the details," Kate said, smirking. "Word is, Jesse was on a college trip when she ran into some deformed cannibal freak. Her group got wiped out, but she kept her cool, took the guy down, and impressed an FBI higher-up who showed up. They recruited her—probably to keep her quiet too."
Some things weren't meant for the public—too messy, too panic-inducing. A little control made sense.
Problem was, "a little" often turned into "total," and people hated that.
Like SHIELD—started with good intentions, but over time, it went sour.
Then again, when your boss is a guy like Nick Fury, how much morality can you expect?
"No way!" Adam said, shocked.
It sounded like a horror movie heroine's origin story.
But then he thought about Jesse Peggy's looks and nodded to himself. Everyone knows horror movie leads have to be hot—it's the first rule of drawing a crowd. If they're not, who's gonna care enough to root for them?
"Yup," Kate confirmed. "Jesse's got this line she repeats—something one of her friends who died there said: 'America's rundown economic zones are breeding grounds for evil.'
Stuff like that happens all over the country. That's why the FBI steps in to handle it."
The U.S. justice system's a mess.
State cops, city cops, county cops—they don't always play nice with the FBI. The feds don't have jurisdiction over them.
But when a big case pops up, the FBI loves swooping in to take charge and grab the glory, while local cops push back. It's a constant tug-of-war.
Cross state lines, though, and it's FBI territory.
Cases with deformed cannibals? Locals know the legends and steer clear. It's usually out-of-state thrill-seekers who stir up trouble—and then die.
A few victims from other states, and it's the FBI's game.
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