Longer chapter this time. I wanted to give a little more insight into how the characters would react to each other. Also, fair warning to anyone who actually knows anything about medicine, all of my medical knowledge comes from TV shows and Google, so I apologize to any glaringly obvious mistakes I might make.
The first thing Ava registered was that her bed did not smell like her bed. Her second and overwhelming thought was that her head felt like someone had played pinball with it. The third was the truly vile taste in her mouth. She groaned and rolled over, pulling the sheets over her bed. Her memories from last night were unreliable, at best. Some friends from work had dragged her to a little dive bar after a bad 24-hour shift. There had been a bad fire downtown in an overcrowded apartment building that had quickly lit up several of the nearest buildings before the fire department could get there, and the emergency room had been packed. She'd had three deaths, something that had never happened to her before. She'd only ever lost a single patient at a time, and even that was rare for her: she had one of the highest recovery rates of the surgeons on staff. Remembering those deaths, she felt her chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with her hangover. She'd stayed at the bar drinking as one by one her friends from the hospital had drifted home. Somewhere around halfway through a bottle of whisky, things just turned into one big blur. The bartender must have called her a cab. At least there was no one in the bed next to her; she'd promised herself that she wouldn't take anyone home, but drunk Ava didn't always listen to her better, sober self.
Slowly, she rolled to the edge of the bed, groaning as her head split in two with each movement. She knew from experience that if she didn't get moving soon, she wouldn't be moving all day. Water, ibuprofen, shower, banana bag, sleep. Proven cure for hangovers. She rolled out of bed and onto the floor, blanket around her, eyes still closed to block out any threatening rays of sun (drunk Ava rarely remembered to close the blinds before passing out). It took her a few tries, but eventually she made it through her bedroom door and turned to her left towards the kitchen. She headed straight for the fridge, but got the breath knocked out of her when she ran into a very solid surface that shouldn't be there. Slowly, irritated, she cracked her eyes to find out what was in her way, only to be surprised by the appearance of a counter top that had definitely not existed before now.
"Uhhhh…. Do you need help?"
At the sound of a completely unexpected male voice, Ava jumped, catching her feet in the blanket as she came down, and ended up on the floor, completely tangled in her blanket. Her head, already painful, was now reeling at the upset of her equilibrium, and she groaned, trying to control her rising nausea. She heard someone kneel next to her, and cracked her eyes open again to find the unexpected face of Sam Wilson staring down at her. She groaned and closed her eyes again, and felt his hands close around her forearms, helping to pull her to feet again. "What- where the fuck am I?"
Sam grinned. If the lady doctor was swearing, she couldn't be too close to dead, no matter how she looked. "My house. My kitchen floor, to be precise."
She cracked her eyes again and stared at him, clearly concerned, and asked, hesitantly, "We didn't…. I mean, we didn't have sex, did we?"
Sam laughed loudly, but stopped when he saw her wince and close her eyes. "Oh god no, nothing like that. The honorable and chivalrous Captain brought your drunk ass home at two o'clock in the morning last night, tucked you into his bed, and then passed out on the couch. No sex in this house. At least, not last night."
Ava looked confused. "I thought you said this was your house?"
Sam shrugged. "It is. Technically, at least. Steve's place kinda got shot up in the shitstorm that went down last month, so he's been here until he figures out where he's going. You planning to stay on that floor all day? If you can peel yourself off it, Steve should be back with coffee soon. I'm making breakfast."
Ava briefly considered just staying curled up on the floor rather than risking the pain of more movement, but her pride was even more powerful than her hangover and she slowly pulled herself into a walking position. "Is there a shower I can use?"
Sam nodded the way she'd come. "Attached to your room. And please, for the love of god, steal some clothes of Steve's- you smell like a walking bar. I don't need that smell ruining breakfast."
When Steve got back from his run with the tray of coffee, he found Marvin Gaye playing and Sam dancing around to it as he made breakfast. Smiling, he set the coffee down on the counter and opened his mouth to ask if Dr. Harper had woken up yet when a voice came from behind him, dripping scorn (and an undertone of pleading) "Wilson, will you please turn that shit down before we all go deaf?"
Steve turned around and was completely unprepared for the sight of Dr. Harper wearing a Captain America sweatshirt Tony had gotten him as a joke last Christmas, toweling her hair dry as she walked into the kitchen. Admittedly, the sweatshirt was long enough and she was short enough that it was effectively a dress on her, but the expanse of leg from mid-thigh down was impossible to look away from.
Sam did not seem to share his concern. "Don't you go insulting Marvin Gaye in my house, sunshine. Not if you want breakfast, at least." Despite his mocking words, he turned the music down as he slid a plate across the counter at her. "Eat. Maybe then you won't be so tempted to eat us. And if you puke it up, you don't get anymore."
"Honestly, I'm more interested in that coffee. There a difference between these, Captain Rogers?"
Steve started, realizing that she was talking to him. "Um- yeah- these two are for Sam and me, this one over here is yours."
Ava reached over to the one he'd pointed to and took a long, appreciative gulp. "Wait, is this- how did you know my coffee order?"
Steve blushed. "I remembered- the Starbucks, the day that you almost got hit by the car. I was behind you in line when you ordered. I just happened to overhear it. And remember it. I have a good memory. I didn't remember it on purpose." He hastily shut up, not wanting to sound any weirder than he was sure he already did.
To his surprise, Dr. Harper actually looked mildly embarrassed by the reminder. "Right. Sorry about that. I might have overreacted a bit. It had been a long shift. Although," she said, her tone settling back into a slightly disapproving edge, "you really shouldn't have been sneaking out of the hospital."
Sam snorted. "I don't think he's ever going to make that mistake with you again, Doc. Now eat. You can't survive on coffee, and I can't have you dying when you're my guest, any more than we're allowed to die when we're yours."
Ava gave him a half-mocking look and settled onto a barstool at the counter with the plate in front of her. "You only think you can't survive on coffee because you've never tried. You try working a 24-hour shift at the hospital with a bunch of idiot residents and see what you say then."
"Yeah? You try two tours in Afghanistan and tell me a good American breakfast isn't a necessity too," Sam responded, flipping over slices of bacon as Steve tried to look at anything but Ava's legs.
Ava looked up, clearly curious. "Who were you with? I have a brother in the army. He's actually on a tour right now," she asked, taking a big bite of scrambled eggs.
"58th Para rescue. I'm down at the VA now. Steve works there too, whenever we can drag him in."
Ava nodded, thoughtfully crunching on a piece of bacon. "Yeah, I'm sure meeting Captain America is great for morale. Speaking of which, you do realize how sad it is that you own your own merchandise, right?" she said, catching Steve off guard.
"It was a present from Tony," he muttered self-consciously as Sam laughed and shook his head.
"Don't even start, woman. You don't know how cool it is to see little kids carrying around action figures of you." Sam grinned, teeth flashing. "It's great for picking up girls, too."
Ava shook her head, wincing a bit. "Yeah, whatever you say, 'no sex in this house'."
Steve looked bewilderedly between the two of them as Sam laughed. "Excuse you, doc, but we are two fine looking superheroes. This house sees its fair share of beautiful women," Sam said, loading up plates with food for him and Steve.
"The house might, but no doubt they run screaming as soon as they realize what huge mistakes they've made," Ava responded, snappily.
"Well," said Sam, thoughtfully, passing Steve his plate and sitting down, "There is a lot of screaming and physical exercise, but not a lot of running."
Ava smiled and shook her head as Steve blushed. "Yeah, you should meet my brother. The two of you would get along great. Unrealistic egos and all that. Is that a soldier thing, or is it just these guys?" she asked Steve, turning towards him.
Steve hastily swallowed the bite he had just taken, carefully not noting how the way she turned toward him pulled the sweatshirt tight across her chest. "Trust me, ma'am, not all of us are like this."
Ava arched an eyebrow at him. "Ma'am? Really? I'm twenty-five, Steve, not a geriatric, and you've seen me shitfaced. I think that you can call me Ava. Especially since I'm not technically your doctor anymore."
"Speaking of being shitfaced, Doc, how are you getting home? We can call you a cab, if need be, or one of us can give you a ride home," Sam asked, wolfing down his breakfast.
"Actually, I left my car at the hospital, if one of you doesn't mind giving me a ride."
"I'll do it," Steve quickly volunteered, ignoring the look Sam gave him. "Sam can take my motorcycle, I needed the car to get groceries today anyway."
Ava raised her eyebrows. "You're kidding. You ride a motorcycle? Do you know how dangerous those things are? If I had a dollar for every motorcycle injury that came into the ER, I wouldn't have to work for the rest of my life."
Sam shook his head almost mournfully. "You do realize that he's Captain America, right? I'm just checking, because it sounds like you've forgotten."
Ava crossed her arms and glared at Sam. "He might be, but you're not. And just because he heals more quickly than normal people doesn't mean he should take stupid risks."
Sam rolled his eyes at her. "Sure thing, doc. Steve, will you get her out of here before she makes us get rid of the bike?"
