Author's Note: It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, I've got a clear plan for the rest of this fic. Only one more chapter after this one! I updated the description too and a couple of the chapters, too, haha. Read, review, and enjoy!

CACACA

Steve rolled his neck and sighed. He was exhausted. He hadn't expected that event to drag on for so long. He also hadn't expected to be standing at the side of the room, looking, well soldiery for almost six hours. As much as he appreciated Nelson and Murdock's PR moves and the wonders they were doing for the Avenger image, Steve wasn't so sure about this particular event.

What did a convention about science for teenagers even have to do with Steve anyways? Why weren't Stark or Banner out there, standing by the military weaponry section? Sure, neither of them were into military weapons (anymore) and sure, both of them had several talks, Q&A sessions, and panels to lead, but still. Steve didn't know anything about science! Well, he had a pretty good understanding of the science of his time and even somewhat of a science behind his own transformation and Tesseract technology, but that wasn't modern day stuff. That really, really wasn't modern day stuff as he had come to realize.

So, Steve had stood, awkward and confused, for six hours next to a booth about military science. Sometimes the scientists had come over and asked increasingly difficult questions about his physiology. Other times, the teens would come over and ask increasingly difficult questions about his physiology. The best times were when teenagers would come over and talk to him about the military or about his Avengers work (or even, in one case, his own penchant for drawing).

But it was over now, Steve reminded himself, letting out another sigh as he trudged out of the elevator. He blinked once he realized that he wasn't on his personal floor.

Glancing up at the ceiling (Stark made fun of him for doing that, but he couldn't help it – he was adjusting one thing at a time), Steve asked, "Jarvis, why didn't the elevator go to my floor?"

Jarvis answered immediately, "Sir asked me to bring you and any others returning from the conference to the communal floor so you may grab some of the food Sir had catered before returning to your room."

Steve's heart warmed at the niceness of the gesture. As much as Stark liked to claim that he was heartless, he really wasn't. Moments like this really made that hit home for Steve. After thanking Jarvis for the information, Steve wandered into the kitchen, rubbing idly at his neck.

His jaw dropped open and he stopped in his tracks when he saw the sheer amount of food in the kitchen. That was… that was insane! How many people did Stark think he was feeding? A sudden loud growl came from Steve's stomach startling him. With a blush, Steve remembered that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, some eight hours before. Maybe Stark was on the right track, getting this much food. Steve certainly felt like he could demolish half of it.

The only problem was that he didn't particularly want to eat on the common floor. He'd spent the entire day being forced to interact with people. The last thing he wanted to do was interact with more people. But he also really didn't want to go back and forth between his floor and this floor to transfer all the food he wanted. Super soldier or not, he'd spent way too much of his day standing to bother with that much effort.

This left him with a conundrum, though.

For a moment, Steve just stood there, wondering how to fix his predicament. He sighed, shifting again on his aching feet, causing his shield to rub against his back.

Wait.

His shield.

Steve's cheeks darkened at the thought of using his shield as an enormous plate. That would be ridiculous, wouldn't it? Steve already got mocked enough for the rest of the things he used the shield for. Surely, he wouldn't open himself up for more mocking.

Then again, he was the only one in the tower. Stark and Banner were at the conference, Thor was on Asgard, and Clint and Natasha were visiting someone outside of town apparently. No one but Jarvis would see him, and Jarvis was good about not judging and not snitching.

Resigning himself to his own laziness, Steve set his shield on the counter and started loading it up with various snacks and treats and sandwiches. This was going to be great. Just what he needed to end a day off.

Steve was so entranced with alternating between stacking food onto his makeshift plate and eating food off of said makeshift plate that he didn't even notice the elevator coming up to the floor or letting someone off. The first time he realized that there was someone else in the room with him, it was because Bruce mumbled, "I love going to those conventions and seeing those kids thrive, but they really wear me out. Tony said that there were snacks for me to have before I have to go back, though."

Steve froze, hunched possessively over his plate of food. He could feel himself going red again. At his lack of reply, Bruce glanced up, freezing as well when he noticed the state Steve was in. For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other, not sure what to stay next. Finally, Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly, asking, "Are you, uh, using your shield as a plate?"

"Yes," Steve answered with as much dignity as he could manage.

Bruce grimaced, "You've killed people with that shield. No matter how thoroughly you clean it up afterwards, all I can imagine is people blood and Chitauri guts on your shield getting onto your food. Gross." He grabbed a few snacks, stuck them in his pockets, and then walked back out of the room.

He left Steve frozen there, trying desperately to forget everything Bruce had just said about the places his plate – his shield – had been.

Author's Note: This is a bit of a longer one, yay! My aim is to get the last one up as well tonight, but we'll see, haha.