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Oct 27, 2011 00:37

Steve slips out of his room and leans against the door to shut it, listening as the shower turns on just to make sure she's still there. Peggy. Still there.

He smoothes a hand over his mouth to try and get the grin to go away, but it kind of seems to be stuck. The agents have already dispersed, one of them informing him that they have to make a full report to Agent Coulson and to expect company before too long.

It's hard to make himself care. He knows SHIELD will probably want to talk to her at length, but he can't - won't - let them mistreat her, even if it means fighting every agent and Avenger in the organization.

"Focus on one thing at a time, Rogers," he says. "Clothes. ...Where am I going to find women's clothes?"

Darcy's spare room, or Pepper's, or Jane's or Betty's - but the thought of going in their rooms and taking clothes. Steve jerks his head in a little shake just to rid himself of the discomfort it brings on. "There has to be a plan B."

His clothes, maybe. He tries to picture that and instead pictures Peggy drowning in oversized folds of cloth.

...Yeah, that won't really work.
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