Triskelion, Sunday morning

After all of the pressure from the STRIKE team to get back to headquarters, immediately, it turned out that the meeting Steve was going to have had been postponed for an hour--enough time for Steve to grab a shower, a clean uniform, and three giant cups of coffee before heading up to meet the chairman of the World Security Council, Alexander Pierce.

Pierce stood up from his desk to greet him. "Ah, Captain," he said with a warm smile. "I'm Alexander Pierce."

"Sir, it's an honor," Steve said, shaking his hand.

( Where Alexander Pierce is kind of a weasel and Steve kicks ass in an elevator )

I-95N, heading to New Jersey, Sunday evening

After doubling back to the hospital, retrieving the flash drive (and yelling at Natasha, still at the hospital, for having already retrieved the hard drive...apparently Steve's stealth-work needed, well, work), tracing where the flash drive came from and avoiding Rumlow again, that taser-wielding asshole, Steve and Natasha were now on their way to New Jersey. Ugh. New Jersey. He kept his eyes on the road and tried not to dwell overly much on the...diversion...Natasha had inflicted in order to make sure Rumlow didn't notice them.

"Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?" Natasha finally drawled, smiling over at Steve.

"Nazi Germany," Steve replied. "And we're borrowing. Take your feet off the dash."

Natasha moved her feet. "Alright, I have a question for you, of which you do not have to answer," she said. "I feel like if you don't answer it though, you're kind of answering it, you know?"

Steve had a bad feeling about where this conversation was heading. "What?"
( Was that your first kiss since 1945? )

[OOC: Open for calls!]