Steve hated these expositions; they reminded him too much of his touring days.
Tony, predictably, loved them, swooping in in his Iron Man suit and throwing candy to the crowds. For this event, which was drummed up by Fury and Hill as part of a military press tour, Steve was thankfully not on stage and there more as a babysitter than a fellow show.
However, this wasn't one of the easiest jobs he'd ever had.
"Tony?"
He sighed, knocking on one of the numerous dressing room doors.
"You in there, Stark?'
He was about to knock again when the door flew open.
A blonde-haired girl in a skimpy red bikini, complete with a fake, glowing arc reactor, looked at him with a sort of hassled frenzy.
"Uhh, miss?"
Steve asked, slightly alarmed.
"Do you need help?"
"No unless you know someone who can do braids."
She said, running a hand through her hair nervously.
Another woman shouted in alarm from inside the dressing room.
"Come here."
He told her, gesturing for her to turn around.
The woman gave him a strange look, but did so.
Steve began to card his hands through her hair, twisting the strands rapidly.
"What's your name?"
He asked, sticking out his tongue in concentration.
"Amanda."
She answered, somewhat surprised sounding.
"I'm Steve. Hair tie?"
She held up a wrist, and he snagged the rubber band, tying off the braid.
"There you go."
He told her once the braid was finished, giving her the motion to turn back around.
"That should last you the whole show, at least, if not longer."
He started to step away as she examined her hair in the mirror.
"Oh no you don't."
Snatching at Steve's shirt collar, she dragged him bodily in the door.
"Come on, Stars and Stripes."
Tony grumbled, searching the hallway for a sign of the Captain.
"Why am I being the responsible one?"
He grumbled, passing by one of the dancer's dressing rooms.
Rolling his eyes and about to move on, he heard a suspiciously familiar voice emanating from the dressing room.
Closing his eyes and praying to the skies that he wasn't about to get pepper-sprayed, he opened the door.
"Steve-?"
Inching his eyes open slowly, Toby felt his jaw drop to the floor.
Steve was sitting on one of the counters, twisting a red-headed girl's hair up into a braid, grinning and swinging his feet, deep in conversation with a group of Ironettes gathered around.
They were in various states of undress and only some of them were sporting the braid Steve was currently twisting. The others were clearly waiting for their turn, doing makeup on each other and twisting into their costumes. (Tony noted somewhat sheepishly that he might want to look into whether or not they wanted new outfits- he vaguely remembered creating those while he was going through that whole dying thing)
Steve was explaining something to the cluster as he carded through hair.
"Go for ears, groin, neck, nose."
He was saying, finishing a braid with almost disturbing ease. The next girl moved up, hopping on the counter comfortably.
"And if anyone tries to get you to do somethin' you don't want to, pull back on their middle finger, hard as you can."
He advised.
The girls nodded, some taking notes as they got into their costumes.
"Now, you can always call me or Natasha if you need more help. Nat teaches self-defence classes on Thursday nights. Sometimes Thor helps out."
Tony could feel his eyes widening to almost a comical size, and Steve finally noticed his presence.
"Oh, hi, Tony. Andrea and Brittany and some of the others wanted some help with their hair."
"And you gave them a self-defense lesson?!"
Steve looked at him disapprovingly.
"I wish I didn't have to."
He said, making the voice that sounded like Tony had just strangled an eagle with the American flag or something.
Tony held up his hands.
"Not judging. But we gotta go, common."
Steve cracked off a military-sharp salute to the Ironettes.
"Ladies."
"Steve."
Tony dragged the Captain out of the dressing room.
"Steve."
He said.
"What?"