forall (forall) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-06-25 22:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | peggy carter, steve rogers (captain america) |
Who: Drunk!Steve and poor, poor Peggy Carter.
When: Backdated to very early on Saturday morning.
Where: The nearest supermarket to Steve's apartment.
What: Drunk!Steve decided that he needed milk and cereal right at that moment. Peggy's there. Well, at least it's a chance for Steve to speak his mind without worries hanging him up?
Rating: Who knows! Probably low. In progress.
Steve wasn't thinking terribly clearly. Oh. He'd had enough wit about him not to try to drive to the store, and he'd decided that bicycles also counted as vehicles (they had wheels) and therefore were not to be ridden by drunk men, but he wanted milk quite badly and was willing to walk the few blocks to get it. At night. Before he could properly walk a straight line. He wanted milk and Wheaties and Gatorade, because he vaguely remembered these as things that helped with hangovers (or perhaps the post-hangover need to eat), and he could already tell that he'd have one in the morning. The store was pretty much empty. This is what happened late at night, and Steve's only company in the aisles were other night owls like himself. He grinned cheerfully at anyone who made eye contact, but otherwise left them alone. He was a happy drunk, and there'd been bowling. Bowling, the promise of a baseball league, and camaraderie. The guys were right. He needed to get out more. Aside from general wobbliness on his feet, Steve was doing okay. Granted, he hadn't really thought about how he was going to get his purchases home, but he'd remembered his wallet and phone, and he had his keys. He'd think of something! He was resourceful. Resourceful and ahhhhh. Where was the cereal? He turned in a circle in the middle of the aisle, perplexed. |