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In Steve’s defence, he was very, very tired.
The agent wasn’t Coulson, which Steve supposed couldn’t be helped. The poor guy was doing his best, but he was clearly new at this.
Only fifteen minutes into the meeting, and everyone was going crazy. The “baby SHIELD agent,” as Clint had so kindly dubbed him, was floundering. Bruce was trying to blend into his chair, Natasha may have been asleep with her eyes open but for the small sneeze she’d let out a minute before, and Tony and Clint had yet to stop tapping.
Steve knew about human minds and their tendencies to find patterns in anything. Add that to the unfortunate side-effect of being in the army and trying to find Morse code in any kind of tapping, and the Captain found himself thoroughly distracted.
Especially when Tony suddenly gave a barely-suppressed snort of laughter. The genius blathered out some excuse, and the briefing continued. When Steve glanced back, Stark was scowling at Barton, who simply smirked and kept tapping.
Wait. That sequence had been a word. And that one.
“-I-G-H-T-I-N-T-H-E-E-Y-E-P-A-T-C-“
“… you think, Captain Rogers?”
Steve’s head snapped up. “Um…” Dimly, some part of his brain was aware he looked like a deer caught in headlights; another part was kicking himself for completely losing focus after chastising everyone else for the exact same thing. The rest of Steve’s mind was madly scrambling to pull any memory from the last … ten? fifteen? … minutes to give Baby SHIELD Agent (hang it, Barton!) an intelligent reply. “Yes…”
Fortunately, at that moment Natasha spoke up. “I had a question about the logistics in Phase 2, when you said-”
Unfortunately, Barton chose that moment to resume his rapid-fire Morse, and Steve realised the archer was trying to send him a condensed version of the entire briefing while Romanoff was recapping almost everything in one long, overly-detailed question. Again, Steve’s brain scrambled to automatically translate the cipher while simultaneously gathering (the same) data from Natasha’s recap “question”. In the background, Stark’s snickers were growing louder. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Bruce casting his leader a concerned look. Finally, both assassins wrapped up, Stark finally got himself under control, and the rest of the table fell into suspiciously perfect order. Steve resisted the urge to slam his head into the hard surface.
“You know what?” He interrupted the young Agent. “That sounds great. If you can send me the file, I’ll let you know if I have any problems.” Baby Agent stared, startled. “Of course, Captain…”
Steve flashed his best camera smile. “Great.” He glanced around the group. “Avengers.” A quick exit was his only hope right now. As the five of them filed out, Clint announced “So, dinner’s on Stark. Where we eatin’?” Steve’s confused “What? Why?” was lost under Tony’s “Romanoff lost first!”
“I wasn’t part of the bet, Stark.” Steve’s head hurt. “Lost what?” He looked at Natasha. “Wait, that sneeze – you were laughing?” The Black Widow smirked. “Wasn’t part of the bet.” She turned and caught up with Clint and Tony, who were still bickering. Steve blinked. All three of them had been carrying on two conversations at once the whole briefing?!
Bruce stepped up beside the Captain, still rooted to the floor just outside the briefing room. “What just happened?”