It was later on that evening and I was a little drunk..or maybe a lot of drunk.

Because the room was spinning and I was pretty sure Banner had started the night with one head, the fact he now had three was unsettling.

I was slowly making my way over to a wall, I needed something to hold me steady since gravity seemed to be all over the place. One minute it was fine, the next it was pulling too hard on the right.

I felt something wet soak my dress and I looked down at my now empty champagne flute. Great. How long had I been holding that drink? And gross. I didn't even like champagne.

I continued on my way, and I was doing quite well I think, yes I nearly crashed into the champagne table when I wanted to replace my drink with another one -don't ask me why I was replacing a drink I didn't even like- but thankfully no one was paying attention so it didn't count.

And since when did this wall I was aiming for suddenly change places? I'm sure it was closer then that. I squinted my eyes trying to figure out this conundrum when I felt an arm wrap itself around my waist.

"Easy there." Rogers voice was in my ear.

"I'm fine." I answered trying to shrug him off. Or atleast I think I answered, maybe I just thought it. Who really knew?

"You're not fine. You're drunk." Okay yes I had definitely answered.

"I'm a little drunk." I managed to get out.

"Really? Because you were about to face plant into the ground before I caught you." He replied. His arm was still around my waist and he was leading us over to one of the seated tables.

"It's not my fault this planet hates me." I explained about the injusticeness of my life. "If the world would stop tilting for like one second I'd be fine."

"The planets fine, you're the one thats tilting." Rogers voice sounded exasperated and if I was sober, I would have take offence.

However I was not, therefore I chose to instead respond with. "Oh."

"Here, sit down before you hurt yourself." He pulled a chair slightly out and placed me in it.

"It takes a lot more then falling over to hurt me I'll have you know." I pointed my finger accusingly at his face. "I even have the scars to prove it."

It was true, I couldn't even count them all. Not all of them were from fighting robots or aliens or bad villians mind you, sadly a vast majority were just bad estimations and calculations on my part. Inventing things wasn't an easy job, especially when you were inpatient and just wanted to get to the final results.

Rogers eyes flashed at my response but I didn't see it. My head was in my arms and they were resting on the table now. He was especially lucky in that instance because sober or not, I would have taken offence at that one. I was sick of him thinking that girls always had to look perfect which meant they didn't belong in my line of work.

"You wait there, I'll call a cab to take you home."

Maybe I fell asleep or maybe Rogers was just super fast about it because the next second he was back and shaking my arm.

"Hey Toni come on." His arms came around my waist again and he lifted me up. I wrapped mine around his shoulders because with the fast movement and the sudden glaring lights, I was back to being disorientated.

"You don't need to do this Steve." I spoke into his neck where I'd apparently decided to rest my face. "I'm perfectly capable of getting myself home. I'm a big girl, I've done it before."

"You're plastered." He spoke as we got into the elevator. "The only time I'll let you out of my sights tonight is when you're safe in bed."

His arms never left me in the lift, nor when he was dragging me over to the cab, it was probably a good thing too cause I really couldn't feel my legs at the moment.

"I can take it from here." I told him when he made to enter the cab with me.

"No you can't." He responded before moving me over and sitting next to me like he owned the damned place. I rolled my eyes but other then that, let him have his way.

God my head was pounding.

What happened last night? I groaned shoving my head into my pillow.

"Jarvis get rid of the light would you." I whined burying my head further, and covering my head with my arms, like that would somehow add a dimension of darkness to the room that wouldn't be achieved otherwise. Luckily Jarvis spoke fluent Stark Muffle because he did as requested.

I felt something tighten around my waist and that was when I stiffened. Because whatever it was I had my head resting on, I only just realised, it wasn't a pillow.

Slowly I lifted my head up and was greeted to the sight of a shirted chest.

Not really suprising, but interesting. I've lost count of how many nights I've woken to this situation.

My eyes followed upwards and I felt my heart stop.

Rogers.

Okay, never before have I awoken to this situation.

What the hell was he doing here? Why were we in bed together? God don't tell me we- I looked down and thankfully my dress was in tact, and considering Rogers shirt was still on, I was left to assume (and hope) his pants were still on too.

He hadn't fully woken yet, but he was starting to stir. Quickly I tried to detract myself from his embrace, a feat easier said then done.

And of course I'd thrown a leg over his waist during the night, because it wasn't hard enough wiggling free as is, no Rogers had to have some kind of hold of my leg with his free arm.

Slowly I pushed myself up, and carefully tried to disentangle myself, when his eyes started to blink open.

Apparently he wasn't half as horrified by our sleeping arrangements as I was, because he calmly let go of me, and while I scrambled to get off him and out of bed as fast as possible, he chose to simply and lazily sit up while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Good morning." His voice was raspy from sleep and he ran his hand through his bed hair.

"Morning." I replied with a frown. Why was he not concerned with this situation. I almost felt cheated by his lack of response.

"How's your head?" He asked, and with that reminder, the nausea came back.

"Arrrrrrgh." I let out another groan. "Don't remind me."

"I left the aspirin on the bedside, did you take it?" Rogers answered before frowning when he saw it sitting there untouched.

"Oh thank god." I spoke making a grab for it, and downing it as fast as I could. I sat back on the edge of the bed resting my hands in my head, waiting for the pills to kick in.

"So how long are we going to keep pretending that you being here isn't weird?" I asked finally lifting my head to look at him.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean? I mean why are you here?" I was too sore to think through whether that made sense or not, hopefully Rogers got the point.

He gave me a funny look before explaining, "You asked me to stay with you."

"I did not." My voice was adamant even if my memory wasn't.

"Yes you did." He continued to look at me like I was the crazy one. I was not the crazy one. "And I was hardly in a position to leave you while you were crying."

"Okay now I know you're full of shit." I narrowed my eyes. "I. Don't. Cry."

"It's what happened." Steve frowned, "And it's nothing to be embarrassed about, everybody cries."

"Okay Rogers, you've had your joke. Stop it now." I told him.

"I don't understand why it's a big deal, you were drunk, everyone gets emotional when they're drunk, no big deal."

"It's a big deal because it didn't happen."

"But it did hap-"

"-Why are you lying?" My voice was starting to rise and my hands were starting to ball.

If I was crying, it was because of one thing, the one thing I would never talk to anyone about but especially not Captain America.

Rogers who was so adored and worshiped by our country, he would never understand.

No he had to be lying.

"I'm not." He shook his head, his face showing concern from my reaction.

"You know what? I am too hung over for this." I waved my hands to indicate whatever this was. "I'm having a shower and when I get out, you better be gone."

"Toni-"Whatever Rogers had to say was cut off from the slam of by bathroom door. I turned the hose on and started getting undressed while the water heated.

Looking at myself in the mirror I was horrified to notice my make up, makeup that suggested only two things. One, it was raining down last night, enough to land on my face, but not enough to ruin my hair (yes it was it was a very plausible answer in my denial filled brain) or two, and probably the far more logical answer, those were tear streaked marks running down my cheeks.

Choosing not to think about it for the time being, I got in the shower and let the water wash away the baggage from last night.

I took my sweet, sweet time under the water, mainly because I wanted to give Rogers enough time to make himself scarce but also because I felt like shit.

By the time I was done and had exited the bathroom, Rogers was no where to be seen. Thank god. I opened my draws grabbing out a Tee and some jeans when I noticed a note left on my bed.

I apologise if I upset you further, it was not my intention.

I balled up the letter in my fist.

It was decided. Whatever I did or said last night, was going in the 'didn't happen' pile of my life, it could slot right in next to The Bad Hair Cut Of '89 and the But How Hot Is It Really? fiasco.

Problem solved.