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Seconded!
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Someone write this!
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Steve’s first thought was that his alarm hadn’t gone off. The sun was streaming through his untinted window and Steve felt muggy and strange. “JARVIS, you didn’t wake me. Why not?”
Silence. Steve scrubbed a hand through his hair and sat up.
And then flew to his feet.
This was not his room in the Tower. The window had flowy curtains shifting in the breeze, and the door was in the wrong place, and there was no gramophone resting on his bureau, a 'Happy Defrosting-versary' gift from Tony ( ... )
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Steve started by tearing it apart for a clue, a hint, a lead, anything. He figured out early into his day that he was in Brooklyn, and the apartment that was apparently his, thanks to the mail on his kitchen table. If the guns in the couch - his couch, seriously, that couldn’t be safe - were any indication, he hadn’t become a civilian overnight ( ... )
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Clint’s first words when Steve opened the door were: “Heard from the Widow?”
Steve shook his head. “No. I tried all the numbers in my phone, they all lead to SHIELD, except yours.”
Clint nodded. “Mine, too. I nearly shat myself looking at the outdated tech in the SHIELD building. Tony would have kittens.”
“I know, check that thing out,” Steve said, waving a hand at his laptop. “I’ve been in this century for less than two years and even I know that’s outdated ( ... )
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