Bomb threats were a regular thing at the public defender's office. Employees generally viewed a bomb threat as a snow day that could happen in June. There were standard evacuation procedures, court setovers, and paid leave.
The Avengers didn't know any of this, and they didn't stay long enough to find out. The jet was still fueled up for a trip to Portland. They landed on a private strip at the PDX airport and took the Max train to the city center. No one seemed surprised to see the Avengers in full gear on the Max train, but that was probably because they were used to people wearing Darth Vader masks, riding unicycles, and playing bagpipes that shot flames.
By the time the Avengers arrive at the public defender's office, the building had been cleared, the eye-stabbing case had been setover, and everyone was gone. They stood outside the building for a few minutes, listening to the Chair Whisperer's conversation with a city bench.
"Japan is aware of a squiggly issue. What is Osama Bin Laden's name? I had a bullet in my cheek. It was strategically removed, by strategic surgeons. The French Foreign Legion called. I was chosen. I live in the spirit world. I would have actually preferred chanting."
Tony opened his comms to reply, because he was Tony, but then the Chair Whisperer looked at him. "I did extract semen. Yeah."
He closed his comms, probably so he wouldn't have to hear Sam's laughter.
The door of the nearest Starbucks opened and one James Buchanan Barnes emerged.
Steve dropped his shield. It made a sound so loud or perhaps simply so unmistakable that Barnes looked up. They stared at each other for another few minutes. Then Steve lurched forward. He wrapped those ridiculous biceps around Barnes, ignoring common sense, personal boundaries, and the advice that Sam had spent the entire jet ride giving him, for fuck's sake, Steven.
Barnes dropped his coffee, which was a shame, since it was clearly a splurge.
He raised his right arm and hugged Steve back.
Sam was not crying. It rained a lot in Portland, okay?