Steve had taken it too damn far.

Something that many people thought Captain America lacked was humor, with his somber expressions and professional disposition. That, Sam could insist, was anything but true. The super-soldier had a knack for pranks and jokes, and had a sharp mind that forgot nothing. At some points, he even recruited Bucky to help him with his dirty work. The Winter Soldier was much more reserved, but Sam could only imagine Brooklyn and all the terror they caused in their childhood.

That being said, Sam didn't think how he could top it off. The whole "On your left" joke had subsided a bit since Sam one-upped the two soldiers. They had seemingly left Sam alone. On patrol, Sam was musing over this. Steve surely wasn't one to give up, even if it was a simple inside joke. Flying high over New York with his Falcon gear, Sam wondered it he should prepare for another attack.

That's when he heard it. The humming he had come to know as Stark's Iron Man suit in flight. He had only a second before Tony was beside Wilson. Sam gave Tony a glance, and saw a very familiar figure hanging onto the billionaire's back.

"Steve?" Sam called out over the high winds. "What the—"

"On your left!"

"Damn you, Rogers!" Sam called as Tony and Steve sped forward, passing the pissed veteran.

"Thanks, man. I really appreciate this," Sam said earnestly to the young Avenger.

Pietro waved a hand. "No problem, man. Just. . . ."

Sam glanced at the speedster's extended hand. Sighing, he stuffed a hand in his pocket. He pulled out aa twenty, and handed it to Pietro. "There. Go." In a flash, Pietro was gone.

Steve was enjoying his morning with his usual laps. He liked to get a few in before breakfast, to loosen up and clear his head. Sometimes Bucky joined, or Nat or Sam, but most often he ran alone. No one took a liking to his speed, endurance, and the time he chose to run.

That's when he heard it. A whooshing sound; wind ripping past your ear like you were going a hundred miles an hour. Only you weren't the one going so fast.

"On your left, Dorito!" came the over joyful voice of Pietro Maximoff. Steve sighed, knowing full well it was only a matter of time before this happened. A second later, he heard it again: "On your left!" Before Steve could say anything, another "On your left!" came.

Steve glared across the park, where Sam Wilson sat with a smug grin. "Really?" Steve panted, figuring if Sam couldn't hear him, he could read his lips and expression just fine.

"Left!"

Steve let out a long sigh, figuring it would just be best to concentrate on running. "Left!" Maybe he could block out the man. "Left!" It wasn't too— "Left . . . left . . . left . . . left. . . ."

Hey guys! The "One Your Left' joke ensues!

A/N #1: First and foremost: this is quite a short chapter. That's because (drumroll please) I'm updating a Fourth of July chapter! I think you can assume what day I'm posting it. It's 1.5K, so hopefully that'll make up for the shortness.

A/N #2: Reviews and prompts are greatly appreciated, thanks a ton, yada yada. You guys know what I'm gonna say. :)

Stay awesome, my dudes!

~palmtreedragons