It was the evening after Lauren's encounter with Sam and the Starks. (Because really, Pepper was a Stark despite the lack of ring and last name.) She wasn't entirely sure how she went about the day. Just thankful that she didn't have another kitchen mishap.

Her inattention throughout the day was biting her in the ass. She couldn't sleep no matter what she did. Background noise, that was supposed to lull her to sleep only distracted her from her thoughts. She'd already counted 1000 sheep. Even resorted to trying some assisted meditation – that only filled her mind with more thoughts.

So she gave up on sleep. She probably had more luck drinking herself to sleep. To let alcohol muddle her thoughts enough to silence her to sleep. Tony seemed to not have any qualms with sharing anyway. Though she was wary of trying any of the more expensive bottles. Bailey's was always a good choice anyway. Maybe some gin and tonic later if it got too sweet on her mouth.

She made her way to the communal and poured herself a generous glass. She forced herself to sip on the drink and enjoy it, rather than drinking half of it in one go. There was a reason she preferred drinking at home. She'd have drunk-off her emergency money if she drank out in bars. Frikkin robbers. She would never pay for a shot that was worth a bottle of booze. Not the kind Tony Stark stored, but a whole bottle nonetheless.

She perched herself on a window seat after she carried one of the side tables closer. She was content to look out the window. But her mind wandered, contemplating if she should get in touch with Iris or Greez. She was employed now after all. Iris could stop sending out feelers for her. Though she wasn't even sure what she was employed as. It wasn't something midnight-Lauren was concerned about at the moment. Tomorrow-Lauren would find out. Still, she better tell them that she found a job else they do something drastic – as Iris tended to be when it came to her and Greez. She was why they got into the shit they were in when they were younger. She tended to be... over-enthusiastic… in fulfilling their requests.

As she composed her text of good news to her two friends. She vaguely noticed that she had company. But she was more focused on retelling the events of the previous day to her friends. So she was startled when someone called out to her.

"I was wondering why your door was open," Steve called out. Thinking she saw him come in.

She choked on her drink, the alcohol hooked into her throat. It left an undesirable burning sensation that triggered her gag reflex. She wanted to reply but was still fighting to get her throat to cooperate. Steve, ever the boy scout, went off to get her some water. She gratefully accepted the glass of water and sipped on it.

"Sorry…"

She waved his apology off. She saw him come in but her mind didn't catch up to his presence. She was too focused. She should drink more. The goal was to stop thinking so she can sleep, not to get her mind more active.

She set her feet down to give Steve space to sit. He took the vacated space and sat down, not saying anything. He looked deep in thought. She let him be. They had the whole night to talk if he wanted to.

There was a minute of comfortable silence. Despite her worry the previous day, she wasn't worried about questions. There was something about the man next to her that was comforting.

"Couldn't sleep either?" She started. The silence was fine. But it's been a while since she had a proper conversation with her friend. She wouldn't be surprised if he noticed her odd behavior these past two days. She dutifully ignored his worried glances the day she met Sam after all. She was also concerned about him. He looked pale. If he was sick it must be something serious to affect him despite the serum.

"It's been years… but there are nights when…"

The rest could be a number of things. Steve never talked about his past before the Avengers. But there was enough literature on it for her to have an idea. Not to mention what happened with James. Her stomach sank when the thought of him being aware while he was frozen crossed her mind. She imagined it being close to sleep paralysis, which was terrifying. It all boiled down to one thing that was causing his wakefulness at this ungodly hour.

Nightmares.

She rarely had them herself. There were a few that could be considered nightmares by some. But she found them akin to the few thriller movies she's watched. None of the disturbing dreams she's had has come close to the horror she vividly remembered that one time when she was 6 or 7. Fucking Imhotep. She was thankful it's never happened again. But the horror and the images of that single vivid nightmare has stayed with her all these years so she can sympathize. She would never claim to know the hurt and horror of serving in war is. But she will always be ready to offer comfort or reprieve from it.

She fell into a habit she got into with her foster siblings. If she wanted to be poetic about it, she'd call it her little spark. She hoped that her actions and care would be enough to not let them wallow in dark thoughts. She told Sam that Steve reminded her of them. And he did, so she'll offer him the same thing – with a drink.

"Want some Bailey's?"

The memory of that particular meme pulled at her lips. Steve's eyebrow raised in question. The silent 'I don't understand that reference' tempted her to show him. But she didn't really want to traumatize the guy. Not yet at least. So she just went and poured him a glass and grabbed some munchies. They were in for a long night.

"What about you?" Steve asked after a few minutes of drinking and munching.

"My mind hates me."

She knew that she had to elaborate. But she wasn't sure how much of it she should or could tell. She knew she owed him an answer. It's been two days since he's asked. She felt guilty for letting him wait. He was probably feeling guilty as well for asking. She's been noticeably out of it since.

He didn't ask though. But she owed him. And he was too damned nice to push. Thankfully more alcohol would help.

So she forwent her initial restraint and downed the rest of her glass. Pouring herself another and drinking half of it in one go. She didn't have to look at Steve to know he was looking on in disbelief - or it was probably concern. He's heard some of her drunk stories. So the latter would be more accurate.

"You asked me something two days ago. This is me preparing my answer."

"You don't have to if you don't want to Lauren."

She took one last sip before answering.

"I'm not exactly an open person Steve. It's wrong but I need some liquid courage to help loosen up a bit. I'm completely aware of what I'm doing. I want to tell you, but I need this first."

She could feel his disapproval of her actions but didn't let it stop her. He didn't make a move to stop her either. It told her how much he wanted to know. With a sigh, she started to answer the two-day-old question.

"I don't know if Sam told you. I also don't recall telling you exactly. But I don't exactly get along with my parents…" She took another sip, giving him an opportunity to ask or state his observation. When he kept silent she continued. "It isn't that we're on bad terms with each other. It's just… uncomfortable? We aren't close. To be honest, I don't trust my parents. And I think that's carried over to how I make friends. So my friendship with you is really a leap of faith. I'm glad for it though."

She gave him a moment to let her words sink in. Tempted to take another swig of her drink. She chose to munch on the leftover potato wedges. Absently wishing they had a charcoal grill or smoker. But that thought quickly left her.

"But why here in the US and not somewhere closer?"

"I find that the farther away I am from them the better our relationship. At least I think it is. I don't think I've ever mentioned it before, but I chose to separate myself from my family way back when I was 12. At the time, it was mostly due to puberty and rebellion. But when I look back on it now, I think I've always known that I never quite fit in with my family. I love them, but they just make me uncomfortable. My mom happened upon an exchange program of sorts with Japan. She knew that I was enamored with the culture I saw in their animated TV shows. So I took the opportunity. I kept applying to new programs so I could continue my education there. It helped that I performed well, so the sponsor was more than happy to accommodate me. I ended up graduating senior high there."

"You never went back home while you were there?"

"We'd meet every summer. I'd go home for a week or two. We were somewhat well off, because of my mom's work. But they were always busy. We'd go on vacation for a few days sometimes. Often we'd visit some of my mom's foster sons and daughters' homes. Most of the two weeks I'd be home was spent near a training camp. They'd let me try out the obstacle courses throughout our stay. Even put me through some drills. I went through them with my foster siblings when they were free. I stayed for a full course of training after graduating from high school. I'm not sure if my foster brother was pulling my leg or not but I think I'm recognized as a reserve officer."

"I went off-topic there. But anyway, point is. Going home in between school years wasn't exactly spent catching up. My family and I don't really have heart-to-heart talks. They know who my friends are and what I enjoy. But I think they believe that my likes and dislikes from elementary are still the same. So yeah, not close."

She took a swig of her drink. She was close to spilling everything. Well, everything that concerned Steve's question anyway and possibly more if he kept letting her talk.

"You said your parents were always busy? Didn't they ever make time for you or your siblings? How many blood-siblings do you have anyway?" At this point, Steve grabbed another bottle from the kitchen and poured their drinks. Keeping the bottle at his side. He was clearly unhappy with how fast Lauren was drinking and was going to limit her consumption.

"I have two older siblings, the eldest is a man-child and the middle child, a girl, was an overachiever. They got better when they got older though. I think my brother was the way he was because my parents let him get away with a lot. And my sister practically lived for my parent's praise since they were away a lot." She paused. She sipped on her glass this time. She suspected that Steve would refuse to give her more if she kept on drinking as fast as she was.

"We weren't spoiled though. Our nanny made sure that we knew how to do housework. Though with me being the youngest, I'd often get strapped with some of my sibling's chores when they were 'too busy with school work'. So out of us three I was the most independent. We all were really in one way or another. We had generous allowances and rarely asked our parent's help with paying stuff for school. But then those were few and far in between. Or at least that was how it was for me. I'm not really sure how it was for my siblings."

"Are you saying you came here using the savings from your allowance?"

"I wanted to. But mom wouldn't let me. Said they were more than capable of paying for the entirety of my education. They'd even pay for a 2nd course, or a Ph.D. if I wanted to do so. Honestly, as long as they could see it as something good, they'd be more than willing to pay for whatever we needed. I think it was their way of making up for their absence in our lives. I really would have preferred if we weren't well off and had to struggle a bit more. If it meant that I could have a better relationship with them. I really admire the relationship most people here have with their parents. At least those I've met."

She finished her glass after her spiel. She wasn't sure how many glasses she's had at this point. She already had three generous glasses before starting her word vomit. She tipped her glass towards Steve for a refill. She pouted when he only poured her half of what she'd pour herself. She wasn't about to fight the super-soldier for more though. It just meant that she'd have to ask for more refills than usual. She'll still end up drinking till morning if she had her way. She could grab a different bottle if she really wanted to drink more. But she was nestled in her spot quite nicely at the moment. And it would be annoying if she couldn't settle in the same way she was currently. So she let him be.

"What surprised and concerned me was that I never felt homesick while I was away from my family. Leaving Japan and leaving here made me homesick. It's kind of messed up. I love my family and all. But I never really missed their company. Being with them stressed me out. I was more at home in the hideout Iris, Greez, and I sequestered for ourselves."

She was already spilling stuff that didn't concern his question. Maybe she should stop drinking? Nah… This was Steve fucking Rogers. Who offered her a place to stay when she needed it. Who offered comfort when even she didn't know she needed it. He deserved to know. He was the epitome of kindness and heart. Okay, maybe that last thing was the alcohol talking but still. Steve has more than earned the trust he was asking of her.

"I've suspected it, but I'm pretty sure your friendship with those two is the same kind that Bucky and I have. You probably even got into a lot of trouble with those two when you were younger."

She snorted, a smile she wasn't willing to fight off graced her lips. "If we went with that analogy I'd be James and those two would be you. Well, Greez was more of a mix but leaned more towards your attitude. Couldn't be bothered to filter her words to save her life. Especially when it came to things she built."

She noted that he noticed her little slip. He wouldn't mention his troublesome tendencies if he didn't think that she was the same. It made telling Iris and Greez about her current arrangement in the Tower a tiny bit more urgent. She'll get to it soon enough.

"Build?"

The fondness in Lauren's tone and eyes increased ten-fold. Her eyes almost glazed with reminiscence. "Cars. She was always handy with a wrench. Hence, Greez."

"I always did wonder if that was her given name or nickname. Which reminds me, why do you call Bucky, 'James'?"

"Personal choice? I'm not exactly close enough to be calling him Bucky."

Steve's brow furrowed in confusion. "Everyone else calls him Bucky though."

"I know it's just… weird for me you know? I kind of feel like I'd be intruding. Like calling my favorite actor their nickname to their face. I guess, if he'd been there when you were telling me about him I'd be fine with it. But since all I know about him is mostly second hand, I think I'd rather he tell me outright that he wants me to call him 'Bucky'. He hasn't said anything so far so I'm sticking with James."

Steve couldn't really argue so he just nodded. Both of them decided to let the silence hang for a bit more. Steve seemed to still be processing everything. While Lauren was content to enjoy her buzz and the silence in her mind that came with it. It only meant that her lips would become looser as their conversation continued. She was thankful for the hour it was. It wasn't likely that anybody would come in and hear her spewing about her past. She only wanted Steve to hear it. For now.

"So… cars…?"

She wasn't drunk enough to forget that this was something she definitely didn't want anyone knowing at the moment. She didn't really want to lie to him though. So vague was the way to go. She decided to just nod and let him ask more to have a better idea of how to respond. Her face showed her contemplation. Steve, thankfully, interpreted it as her not understanding what he wanted to ask.

"You said that you were Bucky in the analogy. Did you guys get into a lot of trouble too?"

At least he didn't specify street fights which he'd already told her about before. She was never involved in that kind of trouble. Not directly at least.

"Not the same kind of trouble you got yourself into. We never got into direct confrontations. Ours was more… speed." She realized that her wording may have been interpreted as something else so she quickly clarified. "Racing. We raced cars. Greez would build them, then Iris, or I would drive."

"Like NASCAR?"

They were so absorbed in their conversation that they didn't notice another person enter the communal.

"What's this I hear about cars and racing? Do share, I'm a bit of an adrenaline junkie myself."

The new voice made Lauren tense up. She did not expect their little drinking session to be interrupted by Tony Stark of all people. She was glad that he interrupted before she could respond. She was buzzed enough to tell Steve everything. It'll have to wait. She doubted she could get this drunk again soon though.

Tony seemed more guarded than when she first met him though. Did she miss something? She knew that Tony's dad… Oh… OH! Tony's dad. James.

Now wasn't this awkward.

"Mr. Stark! I was going to ask you tomorrow, well later now. But we weren't really able to talk about my employment last time…"

There was a heavy pause that lasted for a few seconds. But it felt like it went on for an awkward few minutes before he replied.

"Call me Tony. So since Capsicle and Legolas praise your food so much. You're a cook. But Pep wants to work with you so how about we…"

'I still got it…' Lauren thought not really hearing what Tony was saying. She registered food, cook, and Pepper before her mind blanked out and her eyes refused to stay open. It seemed like the alcohol finally caught up. Maybe because she stopped vomiting words. She really wanted to talk to Mr. Stark about her employment though. It was important. She'll rest her eyes for a few more seconds and…

Unknown to her the two Avengers shared a look. It was tense and full of unspoken words, hurt, and regret. But because of the tiny human that was the cause of the encounter. There was a smidge of hope.

Brownie points for those who recognize the meme! :D

Lauren's been shown to depend on alcohol a lot in these past few chapters. I myself enjoy drinking from time to time but I do not encourage heavy drinking and alcohol dependency. Please drink responsibly.

So yes, the big fight between Tony, Steve, and Bucky still happened. And for the sake of this fic, Steve's keeping of Bucky's involvement with the elder Stark's murder from Tony is what caused the rift between the Avengers. The Accords just adding to it. Anyway, I won't elaborate on that since it isn't vital to the story. What's important is that the team can get along well enough to live in the Tower together. But it's awkward. If you didn't get that from the first few chapters I'm sorry. But at least now you know.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are more than welcome. Til the next one! Stay safe!