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“Sir,” Coulson said seriously, “I can explain.”
Fury just stood in the doorway, looming and watching them like a giant bat confused to find itself right-side up, his face completely devoid of expression.
“It’s my fault,” Steve cut in, somehow managing to look both contrite and ready to start a fight despite the bow on his head and the giftwrap holding his legs together. “Phil had nothing to do with this.”
One of Fury’s brows arched silently, asking the question he didn’t… the question of how Steve ended up completely immobilized and laying on the floor without any help, perhaps.
“I was equally as implicit as Mr. Rogers,” Coulson protested immediately. “Possibly more so. As shift supervisor, it was my responsibility-“
“I egged him on! He never would have done it without-“
Fury didn’t stay to listen to their excuses, just turned on his heel to stride right back out the door. Steve sent Coulson a bewildered look from the floor.
“So… does this mean we’re not fired? Cause, I’m not gonna lie, I really don’t want to have to tell Bucky this is how I lost my job.”