Unexpected

Late Nights

"Are you crazy?" Steve's voice was louder than he probably meant it to be.

I'd been trying to keep what had gone down in the containment cells on the down low. As far as I could see there was no point in telling anyone about it. It was a personal matter and my punishments set by Fury were mine to take care of. I'd accepted that, but of course Steve had found out. I just wish it wasn't now while we were making dinner in my kitchen, where there was no one else around to listen in on us so he could really lay into me.

"I mean, the jury's still out..." I tried to joke, throwing in a laugh as I stirred the pot of potatoes, chicken, peas, carrots, and onions that I was working on.

"Penny, I'm not joking here. What were you thinking?" I heard Steve put down the rolling pin that he'd been using to roll the crust for the chicken pot pie. No doubt he had his serious face on with the furrowed eyebrows and the blue eyes that stared into your soul and the set jaw.

I shrugged again, this time my shoulders dropping into a bit of a droop, "I don't know, but I don't regret what I did, Steve. Well, maybe bending the bars was going too far..."

"Maybe? Penny, you could have been fired! Or worse! You know about that cage they tried to set up for Bruce, you can't go making the powers that be fear you like that."

I turned to face him, meeting the serious expression I had been anticipating. Somehow that worried, serious look didn't match with the lime green and hot pink polka-dotted apron I had made him wear, "You think they're going to lock me up?"

"I don't know, but that was not good conduct for an agent."

I nodded. He was right. I couldn't deny that, but at the same time I wanted to simply shrug off his worry and his lecture. What's done is done, and I wanted to move on. I was free from Ed, so now I felt I truly could move on. "I know that. Trust me I know that. When Fury called me to his office I was sure I was out, but in the end, I'm okay with my punishments. It's just a term of restriction, and a handful of therapy sessions and night watches. It could have been a lot worse."

"Damn straight it could have."

"Now Captain, watch your language." I teased.

"You're not taking this seriously."

I tapped the wooden spoon I was holding against the rim of the pot, trying to knock off a chunk of carrot that was stubbornly clinging to it before putting the pot lid on the bubbling concoction to let it simmer for a bit. Turning around again to face hum I wiped my hands on the front of my own apron, "I am taking this seriously, but I've already accepted it all now. I acted poorly, now I'll pay for it. No big deal. This was my first time really acting up and I plan for it to be the last time, and now... at least now I can sleep again."

Steve huffed a loud breath before nodding.

"I am sorry, though, about... about not telling you about it right away."

"Eh, it's fine." He untied his apron, tugging the neck strap over his head, "So your first therapy session was today then?"

"Yup."

"How'd that go?"

I followed him into the living room, plopping down on the carpet in front of my TV, starting to set up the next movie in our quest to catch Steve up to the modern day, "I guess it went fine. It was weird though, like, I didn't know what to talk about. He asked me about my nightmares again; why I'd gone to the cells and all that, but I honestly don't quite feel ready to talk about that now. So, we just talked instead about normal things. It felt more like enforced socializing than a therapy session."