#istandwithplannedparenthood

“Fair enough, Steve.  Then, Claireis fine,” she returned, a smile adding an audible lilt to her voice.  “I got your number off Jessica, who I thinkgot it off Matt, I hope it’s okay that I called.”

Steve nodded, automatic and pointless.  “Sure, Claire. D’you mind if I ask what fire’s burning down Hell’s Kitchen at,uh–”  He twisted his watch and squintedthrough the dim dawn light streaming through the wide window occupying a wallof the penthouse entry way.  “What, five-forty-eightin the morning on a weekend?  I thought Iwas the only person who got up this early, ‘cept for Sam.”

“Oh, no, nothing urgent, I just.” Claire stopped and sighed, and Steve pictured her pinching the bridge ofher nose, brow furrowed and eyes closed as she ducked her head—he could tallythe number of hours he’d spent in the Night Nurse’s company on his fingers andstill have plenty left, but he knew the face she pulled when she was frustratedby the way her life was panning out. “Listen, I have a weird fucking request from an old friend of mine whocalled me at five in the A-M, and I don’t have the greatest decision-makingtrack record at that hour, so I called you.”

“We specialize in weird fucking requests here at Avengers Tower, ma’am,”Steve said dryly.  “Unless you ask my PRteam, then we specialize in truth, justice, and the American Way, whatever thefuck that means these days.”

Claire barked a laugh and let out another huff of breath.  “Well, you remember how you got arrestedalong with like twelve other people at that BLM protest a couple weeks back?”

“Sam got arrested too,” Steve said defensively.  It had been a long talk with Nicole when she fished the pair of them out of theholding cell, mostly directed at Steve—Sam, she had said with supreme disinterest,was some other poor sucker’s problem. Nicole, the last surviving member of the PR team assigned to theAvengers right out of the gate, was now the captain of Steve’s personalpublicity squadron, or so she liked to call herself, and she had Opinions aboutthe sort of trouble he usually got into.

“Yeah, but nobody I know has the Falcon’s phone number,” Claire pointedout.  “But so the point is—Jesus Christ,I can’t believe this is what my life is like now.  Anyway. My old friend, she and I knew each other in college.  We haven’t talked much, but it turns out thatshe’s helping to manage and run a women’s health clinic about an hour or sonorth of the City.”

Steve had a sneaking suspicion that this was about to become the nextthing Nicole was going to yell at him for. “Yeah?”

He heard Claire take a deep breath and hold it, followed by a couple ofhollow thudding sounds that he guessed were her head against the wall beforeshe blurted, “She’s been picketed for three days by the local pro-lifejackoffs, and yesterday they were scaring off the girls who came to gettreated.  She needs a couple peoplewilling to play escort.  I already askedLuke but he doesn’t have today free, and Matt wasn’t answering his phone soprobably he’s not back yet, so if you know anyone who can take the day…?”

Head tipped back against the wall, Steve grinned up at the ceiling.  “I can think of one or two.”

“Steve,” Claire said, clearly warning him, “if your publicist comesafter me next–”

“Don’t worry about it, Claire,” Steve said easily.  “Nicole knows what I’m like, and besides, FoxNews started trying to take cheap shots at Bucky again.  Gotta give them something else to talkabout.”

“Jesus Christ,” Claire said again, sounding close to awestruck horror.

“Listen, you text the address of your friend’s place to this number andI’ll see what I can do.”

“This is the worst solution I could have come up with.”

“Cheer up,” Steve said, almost bouncing on his toes.  “This is a win-win situation, your friendgets help and I get to do something more interesting than playing Hide ‘n Seekwith a bunch of fuckin’ spies.”

“Who the hell lets you peopleout in public?”

“I’ll talk to you later, Claire, I’m going to go ask around,” Stevesaid, and hung up on Claire’s inarticulate sound of distress.

Two hours later, a nondescript van spilled out a number of people ontothe asphalt between a line of sign-bearing protesters and the brick façade of alow-slung building bearing a sign that read LacksFamily Planning Institute.  Steve wasthe one to walk up and knock on the still-locked front door of the building,dressed in a pearly grey shirt with #IStandWithPPin purple across his chest.  The womanwho appeared was heavyset, quite pretty, with smooth dark skin and a round facethat was crinkled into a distracted frown.

“Sorry,” she called through the glass, absentminded.  “We’re clo—what the fuck?” she blurted, hereyes snapping up to Steve’s face and the frown melting away into shock.

“Hi,” Steve said, grinning.  “Clairecalled us, said you needed some escorts?”

“Who the hell–?”

“You’re Shauna, right, ma’am?”

“You’re…”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me.  Could youunlock the door, please?”

Shauna’s hand dropped to the lock and she blindly fumbled the door open,lips parted in confusion.  “Listen,” shesaid as she dragged the door open, “is Claire fucking with me?  I mean…”

“No, ma’am, I got the impression she was running out of options and shehad my number,” Steve said, offering his hand. “Steve Rogers, but you can call me Steve, it’s a pleasure.”

“Shauna Harrison,” she said, numbly shaking his hand, and there was along beat as she stared at Steve and he smiled at her.  Steve, when she had released his fingers,folded his hands behind him in a tidy parade rest, waiting patiently for her tomuster up a sentence.  “If you don’t mindme asking,” she finally asked, “how the fuckdoes Claire Temple have Captain America’s phone number and—is that the Black Widow?”

Steve glanced over his shoulder to where Natasha was smiling at aprotester whose sign read Adoption, NotAbortion.  Natasha’s smile was verythin-lipped and very toothy, like a lioness lazily baring her teeth to a pinnedantelope, and the protester’s sign was trembling a little more than the lightbreeze could justify.  

“Yeah, Nat has some opinions,” Steve said.  “Claire did me a favor one time, she knowssome good folks.  Some other people mightshow up later–”

“There are six of you,” Shauna interrupted flatly.

“Yeah, we picked up Kitty and Piotr on the way.”  Steve raised a hand, and Kitty paused in herserious conversation with her teammate to wave excitedly at him, her hairpulled back into a neat ponytail.  Allsix of them had opted for civvies—Pepper had helpfully pointed out that it wasprobably better to do this as private citizens—but nothing could make Piotr’ssix-three self look less intimidating. Bucky hadn’t even pretended to try for a disguise, dressed in a menacingexpression and a tank top that said Women’sRights are Human Rights in pink block letters, his arm whirring softly asthe plates shifted.  Sam, standing besidehim and watching the protesters slowly evaluate the new arrivals, had droppedhis smile for an expression of outright disdain.  

Steve pressed his lips together to hide a smug grin.  “I’ll keep everyone out of trouble, ma’am.”

Shauna blinked at him in shock, and laughed, sounding baffled.  “Okay.”

“And I think Miss Walker wanted to swing by around noon for an interview,should I direct her to you?”

“Miss—Trish Walker?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Shauna leaned back against the door, one hand pressed to her chest.  “I mean. Sure thing.”

“Great,” Steve said, smiling.  “Ifyou need any help with anything at all, you just grab one of us, all right, ma’am?”

“You know how to escort girls?”

“Yes, ma’am, Natasha has some experience.”

“Of course she does,” Shauna said, and glanced at her watch.  “Well, it’s eight-oh-three, so the first onesshould start showing up soon.  I’ll justgo…?”  She jerked a thumb over hershoulder, trailing off.

Steve nodded, and rested a hand on her shoulder as he gave her his mostreassuring don’t-worry-really-I-know-what-I’m-doingsmile, silently appreciating that Bucky was too far away to offer commentary onit.  “We can take care of ourselves, ma’am,and if you come out and don’t recognize someone working with us, don’t worryabout it.  We’re expecting at very leastHawkeye within the next two hours, and probably some others later today.”

“Naturally,” Shauna said, dazed, turning on her heel to walk back into thebuilding as Steve turned back to the others.

“Are we good?” Sam asked, spreading his hands as if to say sometime today, Rogers.

Bucky, ever willing to call Steve out, just went ahead and drawled, “Wheneveryou’re ready, Stevie.”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Steve confirmed. “Nat, did you say you had Sue Storm’s number?”

“Well,” Natasha said consideringly, “I said I could get ahold of her,that’s… not the same thing, but yes.  Sheand Ben might come give us a hand.”

“Oh, we know Johnny,” Kitty volunteered brightly, gesturing to Piotrbeside her.  “Reed and Sue are out of thestate right now, but Johnny can probably bring Spidey with him, if you can getus in touch with the Baxter Building, Miss Romanoff.”

Steve grinned and nodded.  “Great,go ahead and call them.  I think Jessicais planning to show up with Trish at noon and—is that a car?”  He shifted and looked past the crowd on thegrass and sidewalk.  “I think they’reworried about hitting protesters,” he added, dry, and Bucky made a derisivenoise in the back of his throat.

“Oh, well, I can help with that,” Kitty said, all but bouncing on hertoes.  “I’ll be back!”  And she dove straight through the front rankof the sign-bearing protesters, slipping effortlessly through them as theyyelped in alarm.

“I like her,” Natasha said approvingly.

“Katya does not believe in tact,” Piotr remarked, dry, and Natashagrinned again, just as toothy as before.

“I really like her.”

Bucky drifted up beside Steve, his footsteps unnervingly silent on theasphalt, and said, “So you’re supposed to be keeping us out of trouble today,huh?”

“Well, listen, just don’t actually make physical contact with anyprotesters or cause them any actual injuries,” Steve said.  “We’re here to help the people trying to goto the clinic, not pick a fight.”

“Quick, someone check him for a fever,” Sam called, and there was aburst of laughter that rippled warmly through the air as Natasha pulled out hercell phone.  Kitty appeared on the road,a wide-eyed woman in her thirties holding her hand as Kitty drew them bothstraight through a sign and a set of hedges. Kitty’s lips moved, and the woman laughed in surprise as Kitty beckonedPiotr over, and Natasha bared her teeth at the protesters again, raising herphone to her cheek.  Sam had been politelyflagged down by the young man who worked at the reception desk inside theclinic, and they were having a quiet conversation about the logistics of makingsure the road remained clear.  Bucky wasstill beside Steve, hands tucked into his pockets as a pair of protestersflicked nervous glances at the red star on his bicep.

“It’s going to be a good day,” Steve said, smiling.

“Seventy years and you’re still crazy.”