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something patriotic

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"Come on, that one was funny," Cara giggled, remembering what had just happened.

"That was pushing it a little too far," Steve objected, making her noises of laughter fade. "He doesn't even know you that well. You're lucky that I was so understanding when you asked me. But you can't just go around asking us if and where we've had..." He trailed off and looked around, as if he'd heard footsteps(which there weren't any). "You have to act like somewhat of an adult," he concluded, turning back to her. But she took note of the fact that his face had been growing redder ever since he'd refused to say the word.

Cara keeled over, laughing hard enough to squeeze her eyes shut and clutch her stomach. "Oh my god," she recovered, "I can't believe it."

"Believe what?" Steve asked, unsure of what she'd meant.

Cara's voice made to be much louder than what she'd thought it would be. "You're afraid of saying the word 'sex'!" She exclaimed, and watched in amusement as Tony, Nat, and Clint raced into the room.

Clint smirked. "You finally got it out of him, huh?"

"That is not what she meant," Steve stood up abruptly, his face as red as she'd ever seen it.

"Um, yeah it is," Cara rolled her eyes, and caught Nat staring at her with an unreadable grin on her face. Maybe she was finally cracking her unkind demeanor?

As Tony watched on, pouring himself a drink of some dark liquid(surely alcoholic), Nat said, "Well, if you're afraid of saying it, Rogers, I guess that explains the reason you're afraid of doing it." She cocked an eyebrow and let a tight smirk take over her face.

Cara smiled in triumph. Yes! Maybe we'll be able to be somewhat friends, making fun of Steve the whole time, she thought cheerfully.

"I'm not afraid of--" Steve rubbed his temples. "How the hell did this even happen?"

"Steve," Cara hissed mockingly, "watch your language!"

The 98-year-old sighed heavily, and rolled his eyes, seemingly exhausted. Cara loved the way she could get him worked up, it was hilarious. "You know what, I'm just going to remove myself from the situation, and go do something...patriotic." He stormed out of the room, grumbling something under his breath.

In between breathless chuckles, Cara called after him, "Yes, honey bunches! YOU DO YOU, BOO BOO!"

And, to everyone's surprise, Steve threw the Hawaiian salute over his shoulder to the rest of them, and proceeded to walk away in the midst of collective, dramatized gasps.

"I still don't like you, but I have to say: I don't think anyone's been able to get him that fired up since...since the 40s," Nat said with a sad, nostalgic look on her face.

But Cara didn't notice it; she was picking up on the fact that two new people had entered the large room: Bruce, who looked like he had just woken up from a nap, and Thor, luscious locks and all.

"I heard booming laughter and came to investigate the situation," Thor said grandly. "What is the matter?"

"We got Steve to admit that he only likes to dance whilst wearing clothes," Cara smirked, rather proud of her shenanigans.

Thor looked mildly confused while Bruce yawned, "So it wasn't worth waking up for?"

Cara noticed the way Nat smiled at Bruce, her lips curling up in the smallest of ways. But for this woman, any form of affection was obviously a big deal, because Bruce seemed to melt a little under her gaze.

"It was totally worth waking up for, Mr. Grinch," Cara answered, shifting her weight so one hip jutted out and she crossed her arms.

"Don't call him that," Nat scolded her, putting a band on his shoulder.

But Bruce waved it off. "It's fine, Tasha, I don't mind. It's just me."

She didn't look convinced, still throwing a glare in the direction of Cara's tall form, but didn't say anything else on the matter, and just left the room, with Bruce following her.

Clint, to lighten up the mood, stepped up and high-fived Cara. "For Steve's performance, you're forgiven for that question." Then he pointed a finger at her. "But you haven't gotten out of being my punching bag."

The teen rolled her eyes. "Great."

-

There were a few knocks on Steve's door to let him know that there was someone outside. And then a voice, to which he identified as Cara's. "Steve?"

He got up and pushed the chair he'd been sitting in to the side, allowing him access to the door. Manually unlocking and opening it, he tipped his head down to look at the feminine form of the kid he'd taken in to live with them, and was now the reason he was so stressed during these last few days. "Hi."

"Can...can I come in? I wanted to finish that conversation we were having last night." She grinned slowly. "Maybe twenty questions wasn't the way to go."

There's something different about her, he noticed. She looks...hesitant. Apologetic, even.

But he widen the entrance into his room, waiting for her to come in. When she did, he closed the door, and offered her a spot on his recently-made bed.

Hanging above it was his pride and joy--well, two of them. The American flag was one of them, hanging vertically flat against the wall. Steve got a lot of crap for it, yes, but he was only doing what he believed in. And that was pledging his allegiance to equality and freedom.

Next to it, though, was his real prized possession. A small, golden compass hung from a rope that he'd tied to it, and stuck to the wall so that when he woke up each morning and spoke the words of the Pledge, he'd be staring at the woman with brown, curly hair and red painted lips whose picture had been inserted into the open piece of 40s technology.

Cara followed his gaze, and she smirked at the sight of the flag, just as he'd expected her to. But when she glanced at the compass, her smile became sad, and she just said, "Peggy?"

He nodded slowly and answered softly, "Peggy."

Neither one of them said anything for a bit until Cara broke the silence. "You know, if you don't like my antagonizing, I'll stop. Really, I will." She stared up into his eyes, and he knew that she was telling the truth.

But he gave her a sad smile. "No, I...it's something I quite enjoy, really. It lightens up the place." Winking at her, he pulled up a chair and sat down across from her. "But I have to agree: twenty questions was definitely not the way I want to have a get-to-know-you conversation."

Cara smiled sheepishly, and ducked her head. "It used to work, you know."

"What?"

"The game, I mean. I never had friends, much less a best friend, but it always used to work when I wanted to learn things about people."

"You're clever," Steve complimented, but added with a hesitant smirk, "but on a kindergarten level."

Cara opened her mouth to spit out an offended response, but then that strange, mechanical voice that freaked her out was talking.

"Mr. Rogers, Director Fury has arrived. He says it's on very urgent business."

"Fury? Nat was talking about him before, wasn't she?" Cara asked Steve, who didn't look happy that the man was here. "Who is he?" she asked.

He grimaced. "Someone who won't be happy to know that The Avengers have been hiding a teenage girl right under his nose." He got up to leave.

"What, would it be any different if I were a teenage boy?" She feigned a deep voice. "I can be a boy if you need me to be, just to get this guy off my back."

But Steve didn't look like he much appreciated the joke. He sighed, "Just stay here. And don't come out until I tell you it's okay."

-

OKAY CAN I JUST SAY THAT THIS DAMN GIF IS MY RELIGION LIKE AGH STEVE I LOVE YOU

IT DESERVES TO BE PUT HERE AGAIN SO THERE