Chapter Text
The door to the interrogation room slammed open.
"Alright ya little puke, I just got off the phone, your lawyer's on her way here."
Lawyer?
Peter didn't have a lawyer on retainer.
He didn't have anyone, or anything.
He was just some random temp that got caught up in something bigger than him,
He wasn't even guilty, for fuck's sake!
As if the new grunt would have any clue on how to commit corporate espionage or insider trading.
Why was he the fall guy?
Oh.
Because he was only a temp.
A patsy, a stooge.
He didn't know who was actually responsible, but they timed it super-fucking well.
"Just my fucking luck" Peter muttered to himself.
Moving from job to job, never holding one for more than six months, almost always through no fault of his own.
Some let him go with no hard feelings, they just didn't need as many people as originally thought.
Some were complete assholes, deciding to give him the boot for not knowing how to fix some obsolete technology after looking at for five seconds.
OK, there was that one time he nearly hit the boss with his rental car, but maybe look both ways before crossing?
He held his head in his hands.
The only people who knew he was innocent couldn't do much to help him, and they only believed he was innocent because they didn't think he was smart enough to pull off the caper in question.
His support network was... well, could you even call it a support network?
And now a lawyer he couldn't afford- and also had to convince of his innocence- on the way?
What next, his clothes destroyed? Kicked out of his apartme-
*BZZZ BZZZ*
Peter's phone went off.
"Hello? Mr. Popovich?
...
What do you mean you're evicting me?!
I haven't been charged with anything yet!
N-not that I'm- no, I'm-
I keep telling you all that I'm innocent!
Oh yeah?
FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!"
Peter threw his phone at the wall, which broke at record speed.
"MOTHERFUCKER!"
Peter felt like he was speedrunning the end of his life.
If he was a praying man, he would have been down on his knees, asking why God had forsaken him.
The cop from before reemerged after hearing the phone being thrown.
"KEEP IT DOWN IN HERE, YA LITTLE FUCK!"
Once he turned and left the room, Peter flipped him off.
He wished he could show up that abusive shitbag, alongside his shitty ex-landlord and whomever was sending him up the river.
He plonked his head on the table and closed his eyes, hoping he'd either wake up from a dream, or fall through the floor and avoid going to court altogether.
"Could this day get any worse?"
"With any luck, it's going to get so much better."
Peter looked up wearily.
A tall, curvy woman in a red button-up jacket and stylish pants stood before him, briefcase in tow.
Jet-black hair in a bun, bright red lips and stern brown eyes completed the look of a woman who looked like she took no shit from anyone.
Peter saw her and was reminded of a song his grandfather and father both played a lot, Cliff Richard's Devil Woman.
Someone to be on your guard around, eyes filled with plots and ideas of all sorts of wicked things.
She held out her hand.
"I'm Maxine Stanhope, and I'm taking your case."
Peter blinked for what seemed like an hour, before remembering his manners and shaking his hand.
"Uh, sorry, this is just... today's been the day from Hell."
Maxine smirked.
"Oh, I sincerely doubt it's anything remotely like that. But no matter, I'm here to help."
"I'm sorry, did-do you know anyone in my life? I'd like to think if my closest friends had a hot law- uh, hotshot lawyer contact, they'd have told me right off the bat so I wouldn't be sweating buckets."
"If I do know anyone in your life, it's news to me."
"Oh right, you must be a public defender then."
Now Maxine laughed.
"Oh my stars, no! I'm far better than the walking pile of neuroses at the front desk."
"Wait, that guy was the one who would have gotten me?"
"If I didn't intervene when I did, he'd be here instead of me, and you would be completely fucked."
Peter relaxed a little.
Instead of ending up with a sitcom lawyer who probably won his cases through pity, he had someone who looked like she could knock down doors just by glaring at them.
Maybe he had a chance?
Maxine took a folder out of her briefcase and sat down.
She smirked again.
"Now, I just have to ask because- well, it's my job, for one- but also just so I know I'm not being set-up: is your last name REALLY Parker?"
Peter groaned.
If he had a dollar for each time someone asked about his name, or make a joke about it, he probably could have put Maxine on retainer.
"Go on, get your witty remarks out now, everyone else does."
"So, this is definitely not something you've chosen for yourself?"
"If I had a say in it, I'd have asked to be called Lewis or Dominic."
,Maxine looked him up and down.
"Lewis would be the better fit."
"I'll remember that if I ever go through with a name change. Which won't matter if I'm locked away for the rest of my life."
"Peter, despite your namesake, you haven't got his luck."
Peter winced.
He knew she was going to say it.
He KNEW.
"Face it, tiger. You just hit the jackpot!"
Maxine grinned at her own reference, while Peter clapped sarcastically.
"You held it in a full three minutes. Well done, I had you pinned at two."
"Oh, I like you. I think we're going to get on just fine."
Maxine reached into her briefcase again and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, holding the pack out to Peter.
"Uh, n-no thank you, I don't smoke."
Maxine shrugged and lit one for herself.
"Plus, you can't smoke in here anyway."
Maxine exhaled mischievously.
"Peter, you're going to find there's very little I can't do."
Right after saying that, the door slammed shut.
Peter jumped in fright.
He didn't see anyone close the door, and it shut so quickly it was like the door was possessed.
"Now, I'm going to get right to the point: even though I read your file, I already knew you were innocent before I got to it."
"Y-you did?"
"I'm very good at what I do, Mr. Parker. I know the guilty when I see them, and you definitely don't possess the capability to do what you've been accused of."
Peter slunk back in his seat, feeling a little offended.
"Ah, because I'm not smart enough to do anything like that. Or at all."
"Hey now, I didn't say that. Even if this a skill-set you don't possess, that doesn't make you stupid, merely unskilled in certain areas."
"So, your whole defense going to be "your honour, my client's few skills mean he couldn't possibly have done this white-collar crime?" is it?"
"Peter, if you agree to take me on as your lawyer, we're not GOING to trial. I will get you off these charges completely, and possibly even wrangle a settlement out for wrongful arrest."
Peter's eyes widened.
A woman he had known for barely fifteen minutes was offering him the hugest lifeline he had ever had in his life.
All she knew was that he was sarcastic and unlucky, and yet, she was doing more for him than expected.
Sure, she was a lawyer, so she probably had connections going up to Congress and maybe beyond, but this was still all good to be true.
"How much are we talking in this settlement? Because I don't know if it's going to be enough to pay you. Unless your firm has an installment plan option, which we can maybe negoti-"
"Peter, if you sign this contract that says you retain me as your legal counsel, you won't owe me a cent."
If Peter's eyes could pop out of their sockets, they would.
He would be free as a bird, while getting legal services for free too?!
No, this had to be a prank.
Nothing this good came without strings attached.
"OK, who put you up to this? Was it Fred? That fucker's gonna pay once I've done my time-"
"Peter."
One word, one whole sentence, said with all the sternness Maxine could muster.
Peter shut right up.
"This is not a joke. This is not some cruel mockery designed to twist the knife. I am completely serious in my offer."
She took the contract out of her briefcase.
It was a few pages long, with legal jargon that Peter only recognized every fourth word of.
Out of her jacket pocket, she produced a sterling silver pen.
"With one signature on the last page, your life changes today."
Peter relaxed a little.
If this was a prank, it was far too elaborate for a situation like this.
"OK, but if I sign this, you're not going to reveal you're a witch and I've signed my soul over to you, have I?"
Maxine chuckled.
"Oh no, I'm much higher up than a witch!"
Peter looked at her for a few moments as she laughed, before laughing himself.
"At least she has a good sense of humor" he thought to himself.
He took the pen and signed the document, debating on whether or not he should have given it another read through, especially since he only really glanced at the last couple of pages.
But hey, what's the worst that could happen, right?
It was at that point that Maxine's mirthful chuckle turned to a more sinister laugh, her eyes taking on a red tinge and hair loosening, draping down quickly.
She snapped her fingers and Peter felt different.
