RIGBY'S NEW CAMERA WAS NEARLY DESTROYED. He had been gifted it by Adam as a gag gift, because the older man wanted to know anything and everything that went on in his top secret office job, and decided, 'why not, it's not like my life would get any weirder,' but then it did. When he was jump attacked by his desk neighbor.

"What do you think you're doing?" Dwayne Scholz demanded, keeping Rigby in a headlock, and the younger man desperately flailed, trying to get loose, grunting as he planted his feet into the ugly carpeting he was sure Tony Stark had no part in choosing, throwing Dwayne off of him and onto the ground, just barely releasing himself from the chokehold.

"Dude," he said, surprised by how calm he still sounded, only slightly out of breath and slightly peeved, at least on the outside, "I just brought a camera to work."

"That is a breach of privacy, you can't take footage of top secret work," Dwayne said, and Rigby sighed, wishing that there was someone around him that he could make eye contact with.

"Agent Romanoff leaked all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files last year, I doubt me filming the layout of this office is going to bring the scourge of HYDRA on us. As if they care what a bunch of D-list S.H.I.E.L.D. agents do on their computer screens in a stuffy room in a refurbished Stark Industries warehouse," Rigby said, being careful to knock down every single peg that was keeping the hopes that he was doing something important with his life, reminding himself that he was a glorified pencil pusher; his pencils were simply pushed in a nicer office.

Dwayne just stared at him, his jaw set, clearly at a loss for words but unwilling to admit his defeat, glaring at him from behind his glasses, and Rigby gave him a tight smile before pushing past him, headed towards his desk.

He sighed as he fell into his chair, sliding back for moment before pushing himself forward, taking a minute to survey his desk as he turned on his monitor. He didn't have too much on his desk, most of them didn't—even if they were working solely at their desks, they were still S.H.I.E.L.D. agents at the end of it—but he did have a picture of him and his sister on their 29th birthday, the two grinning at the camera with party hats, Eleanor with her hands on her hips leaned to one side, him leaning towards the other with two thumbs up.

He laughed softly at the sight of it and tapped the picture of his sister's face before turning back to his monitor. He missed her. It had been about a year since he had seen her last, and he missed her. He missed a lot of people.

He broke out of his musings to look over at the empty desk at the front of the room. He felt himself frown sadly as he found it, once again, empty. Of course, the owner of the desk wasn't even meant to be in their section and oversaw more than just their area of the facility, but it didn't mean that he didn't look forward to seeing her whenever she did choose to continue her job as their supervisor.

Working with files, it was his job to organize the old files from the destroyed S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters that were destroyed during the HYDRA uprising the year prior. It was also his job to rifle through and send certain files between sections, vetoing everything and making sure there wasn't anything dangerous inbetween. One of his friends used to work in the New York building, monitoring the internet to make sure there weren't any red flags that were raised on account of the files Natasha Romanoff had released into the public.

He occassionally made phone calls and established contact between multiple buildings and was also in charge of doing background checks on potential Stark Industries employees and prospective S.H.I.E.L.D. agents—not that there were many left to begin with after the uprising, much less many wanting to apply—which was work that they all did since the D.C. headquarters had suffered the most damage.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he pulled it out, glancing around before pressing it against his ear, answering quickly. "You know not to call me at work."

"I know, I know, but I wanted to make sure your weird desk neighbor didn't kill you for bringing that camera I told you to," Adam laughed, and Rigby rolled his eyes.

Adam was his best friend and floor neighbor, the two having met about a year before The Battle of New York and were still friends to this day, Adam a little older than him and had experienced some of the same things that he had just experienced recently.

His boyfriend was a little strange, but Rigby couldn't judge, at least one of them was in a relationship.

"He tackled me to the ground and put me in a chokehold. Somehow, I, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who was forced to pass the field test, was able to overpower him, a man with a purple belt in karate," he explained, snickering alongside the older man who practically cackled into the phone.

"Dude, you need to just set the camera up somewhere, I really want to see what's going on," Adam laughed, and Rigby figured that something great must have happened, because he was in a much lighter mood than usual.

"Hey, I gotta go, but you hold onto whatever's making you so happy, I'll talk to you later. Given that Dwayne doesn't kill me first," he added, and Adam laughed again.

After pocketing his phone, ignoring the suspicious look Dwayne shot him from where he was filing yet another complaint regarding his actions in the workplace, he started on his work, perking up at the large stack of background checks he had to do; it seemed that there were red flags he needed to check up on, and he always enjoyed being a psuedo-FBI agent and going through the private life and search histories of everyday civilians.

His sister always loved how secretive his job had to be. With her endless stream of conspiracy theories, his job coupled with his secrets gave her ample ammunition to back up her theories on friendly aliens—which she had proven—and the existence of Bigfoot, which he refused to acknowledge.

He quickly became engrossed in his work—he learned a lot about Holly Lindenberg in the first red flag he found for her, and he had five more to go—and scarcely checked the clock, though he did periodicially look towards the empty desk, secretly hoping that it would be filled again and he could stand up and walk over.

People had joked that, now that there was no one for him to go to bother and chat with, he could get most of his work done, but that was where they were wrong. He would still waste the same amount of time by turning around to wistfully stare at the empty desk and wish that he could stand and walk over to bother and chat.

People said he had a problem, but he didn't see it.

Of course, by people he meant the only two people that he considered to be his friends, and vice versa, and the second was only a recent acquisition, and he felt a little strange befriending someone twelve years his junior, but that was adult life, it seemed.

Speaking of said friend, he heard the sound of familiar footsteps approaching, padding over the ugly carpeting, and he turned to find the short redhead making his way over, the young adult giving him a bright, tooth gapped smile.

"Good morning," Leo greeted, because he was that kind of a person, and Rigby simply rolled his eyes and grabbed the chair that was now left right by their desk, positioning next to him for the redhead.

Leo was an agent who formerly worked in the New York headquarters monitoring the internet activity, but was now tasked on monitoring and supporting Pietro Maximoff whose brief brush with death during the Battle of Sokovia had left him changed and S.H.I.E.L.D. concerned. Leo was slightly afraid of his charge, but the two had found themselves a shaky understanding between them, and Rigby was almost certain that Pietro was more peeved that Leo spent so much time away from him than anything.

"How was your night?" Leo asked, and Rigby sighed, stretching heavily as he tried to fully wake up, groaning as he tried to pop his back.

The redhead clicked his tongue, giving him a crooked smile. "Sounds rough."

Rigby rolled his eyes and shoved his head. "Go back to the Avengers, kid, we don't need you here."

Leo snickered and rested his head against the table, turning his head to watch Rigby continue to work, the older man explaining the person that he was looking up, but he found himself having difficulty, because explaining to Leo wasn't the same as how he usually explained it.

"You miss her, huh?" Leo asked, reaching out and grabbing Rigby's camera which was hanging out of his bag, "She'll be back soon, Uncle Nick told me. Don't worry about it."

Rigby groaned, guilt rising up at Leo's sad smile as the younger man fiddled with his camera. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"Trust me, I get it," Leo interrupted, shaking his head, "I don't take it personally, and I don't expect you to treat me the same way you treat her. Please don't, by the way, it'll be really weird, you're kind of too old for me."

Rigby rolled his eyes and pushed his face again, and Leo raised the camera to his eye. "This could be funny, you know? Just filming you guys and whatever weird stuff goes on around here?"

Rigby snorted, dropping his chin onto his hand. "Yes, of course. Because there's something so entertaining about a bunch of D-list S.H.I.E.L.D. agents sitting in front of computer screens for eight hours a day. Give or take."

Leo scoffed. "Aw, c'mon, it'll be fun. Anything can be interesting if you make it."

Rigby glanced back towards the empty desk, smiling to himself as he thought of all the times he had rushed over to laugh and snicker at something that had happened or at any of the pranks he had pulled.

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 09.05.18 )

So here's chapter one! I hope it was alright, I wasn't so sure how to introduce everyone, but I think I did...yeah, well, you know, it'll get better.

Do ya'll like how I never mentioned Maria's name, she's just so ingrained in Rigby as a person that everyone knows who he's missing and what her name is, like it's funny.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!