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i got a suit
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"Friends?" Cara asked, crossing her arms. "What do you mean, friends?"
"I mean, friends," Steve repeated. He grinned. "I know some people who are capable of helping us, okay? So suit up, and get ready to find our strongest ally."
Cara looked around the room. Everyone--apart from Aunt May, of course, who was as confused as she was--set their mouths in grim, determined lines, seemingly ready to do what Steve just said. "Wait, hold up," she raised her hand like she was in school, "does anyone remember that I don't have a costume?"
Nat rolled her eyes. "I'm not even going to answer to that. Just find something comfortable that you can move in."
Cara nodded. "Alright, so, sweatshirt and sweatpants, here we come," she decided, but knew it wouldn't work.
This time it was Steve's turn to roll his eyes. "Come on, Cara, I'll show you."
"Right, you show her, Cap," Tony smirked, "just remember to keep your mind on the current situation."
Cara stuck her tongue out at her friend, following her boyfriend out of the room and down the hallway.
"Where're you taking me, Gramps?" She reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "Your secret room with all the cool costumes?" She gasped exaggeratedly, "do I get a pink one? Or will it be red, white, and blue?"
"Cara," Steve said warningly, though she could tell that he was only joking, "shut up."
"Rude," she scoffed playfully.
He kept walking, trailing her along behind him, and then they reached a door, one that Cara noticed led into Tony's work room, where all of his past models stayed.
"What are we doing--"
"I talked to Tony," he said, opening the door, "and he said he'd design you a suit."
"Wait," Cara knit her eyebrows, "don't you remember that I can't do what he does? I'm a grounded superhero, not a bird."
Steve rubbed her arms. "It's a good one, I promise. And I convinced Nat to help. She's beginning to trust you, you know. More and more, everyday, she...hates you less, it seems."
She rolled her eyes. "Wonderful, I love to be on this side of Nat." Then she tried to look beyond Steve's broad shoulders, searching for said suit. "So, uh, where is it?"
He smiled, stepped aside, and gestured to a dark, folded up pair of leggings, and a jacket next to it.
"That's it?" She asked, a little unimpressed.
"Don't underestimate it, Cara," Steve insisted, "it'll get you through a mission when you need to. Nat didn't want it to be an exact replica of hers, so we did some alterations. It's the same concept, just a different design."
Cara shrugged. "Alright, turn around."
"What?"
"I'm gonna try it on, duh. So turn around."
"Oh, right, sorry," Steve mumbled, and straight up shuffled out of the room.
"I didn't mean--oh, it wouldn't hurt," she said, leaving him to go back to the others.
The suit fit against her every curve, wrapping around her in a way that was tight, but still allowed breathable movement. She easily pulled on the combat boots that went with the outfit and picked up a belt that was meant to be wrapped around her waist, a gun holster on both sides along with a notch for a knife.
Satisfied, Cara strutted confidently out of the room, sauntering into the living room.
Aunt May had left the room, probably to go talk to Peter, but everyone else was still there, and almost all their jaws dropped except for Tony's, obviously because he'd designed it, and Nat's, who just smirked triumphantly.
"You look good, kid," she complimented.
"Thanks to you," Cara crossed her arms, attempting to look badass, but then gave them all a twirl.
"Okay, cut the sentiments, we've got to go."
"Um, can I come?"
Cara turned to see Peter standing in front of his aunt, hesitation alight on his face.
"Peter, I--" Cara started, preparing to answer no for the whole group, but then Clint answered.
"Sure, Pete," he said, surprising everyone. "I mean, why not? Consider this your initiation."
He looked on top of the world as he pumped his fist in the air. "Yes!" He celebrated.
"Alright, don't get too happy, Spidey," Nat warned, "you don't want to blow it."
He stopped, standing still, but a smile still stretched his lips apart. "Of course."
Steve nodded, having done a head count. "Alright, everyone's here. Let's go."
-
"So, your friend lives in Washington, D.C.?"
"Well, he did. I hope he does now," Steve confessed, and ignored the looks of disapproval from the group.
"So this could be a dead end?" Bruce said, shaking his head. "Great."
"Whatever, let's just see if he's here," Cara supported, adjusting her belt of weapons. She didn't know what was coming, but she itched to find out who managed to become best friends with Steve Rogers.
They walked. A lot. And in secret, too, hanging close to the walls. Keeping their eyes out for any sight of this mysterious Skull organization.
Thankfully, no one showed up, and they reached a plain house easily, stepping up to the back door.
"Are you sure this is his house?" Clint asked.
Steve nodded. "It is."
He raised a fist to knock on the sliding glass door.
Silence filled the air for a few seconds, and then they heard footsteps from inside, nearing them.
Cara could feel the tension grow within the group. This could end up very bad for all of them if it wasn't the friend Steve hoped it was.
Then a man of dark skin and kind, yet strong features was behind the door, peering out at them. His lips cracked in a smile, and he opened the door, letting out a chuckle.
"Well I'll be damned," he grinned, "here he is, the running man."
Cara raised her eyebrows at Steve, who just grinned. "It's good to see you, Sam."
"What--or who, rather--do you need help saving this time?" He looked at the group gathered behind him. "Brought the whole family, I see."
Steve nodded. "You could say that." His grin disappeared. "Can we come in? We need to talk."
[hi was this good? I don't know bc if you don't know I'm dealing with cramps, and it's ten at night and I'm tired and yeah. -mae]
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