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Five Times The Police dealt with Team America (and One Time They Dealt With the Police)

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Officer Sasha Rohemin rubbed her face in exasperation, looking at the three injured fighters sitting in front of her. The one armed man was sitting cuffed to the blond while EMT’s tended to their cuts and picked glass out of skin.

“Okay, the bartender says you’re good people, and he also said you didn’t start the fight, only defended yourself, so I would like you three to tell me why we have a group of eight unconscious men with everything from nail scratches to objects forcibly inserted into their skin. Keep in mind we will be getting our hands on the security footage soon, so stick to the truth.”

The blonde nodded in understanding. He bumped shoulders with the woman. “You started the fight, hun, your turn to explain.”

The woman sighed and rolled her eyes. Her white blouse was flecked with red drops, and her red shorts looked wet in places. The heels, current being removed from a man’s side and another's shoulder, were gone, leaving her neatly painted red toenails exposed.

“The first man was being invasive and coming onto me despite my warnings not to and eventually resorted to trying to roofie me. When I discovered such, I confronted him and he got aggressive quickly, began shouting some rather rude things at me. I riled him up with a few accusations of my own after which. He jumped at me with a knife and I broke Steve’s glass over his head. His friends ran to his defence and here we are.”

“She left the drugged beer at the counter too,” the second man put in. “You can test it, if it’s still there. It was an IPA.”

Sasha nodded to her co-worker and he vanished into the bar to find it.

“So you three just took out eight full grown men?” Sasha asked, turning back to the detainees.

“We’re military,” Steve grinned, teeth a bit pink from blood. “We’re good at what we do.”

“Can it, sweetheart, you just like bar brawls. Can’t even tell ya how many fuckin’ times I had to drag this little shit out of gay bars.” This last comment was toward the woman. She smiled in amusement. “It’s insane. Every fuckin’ week for years, I swear it.”

“I believe you, dear. You say so often.”

“Guess I do. Think I’m still upset with his fly-into-shit-I-can’t-win-all-guns-ablazin ’ attitude.”

“We should fuck it out of him later,” the woman agreed.

There is a cop right there ,” the blond hissed, red in the face. “I keep tell you guys there is a time and place for sex-talk. Now is not the time .”

“Dunno,” the second man drawled. “Last time you were in handcuffs you weren’t complainin’.”

Steve was now red as a tomato and glaring daggers at the other man, who just grinned in return.

“Aw, you know I say it ’cuz I love you,” the one arm man started rubbing up against the blonde like a cat.

“Gidoff me,” Steve scoffed, but didn’t make any move to draw away. Quite the opposite, actually, almost leaning into the contact.

Sasha wasn’t paid enough to deal with kinky swingers, or whatever these people were. “How is self defence stabbing high heels into a man’s shoulder?” she asked instead.

“I make weapons out of what’s around me,” she woman explained.

“The stapler,” the male burnet agreed, making the blond shudder.

“Please stop bring that up. That’s was horrifying.”

“It was not that bad,” the woman disagreed.

“Sixteen,” the man countered.

“What?”

The blonde looked at Sasha. “There were sixteen staples in th’ guys face. He needed plastic surgery.”

“He was a terrorist,” the woman said. “And he was trying to kill us.”

“Beatin’ the snot outta him was swell,” the blond allowed. “The methods? Not so much.”

An EMT pulled a personal effect from the blonde’s back pocket and opened it up, freezing. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Sahsah asked. “He on a criminal watch list or something?”

The EMT shook his head and went around to stand next to Sasha. “I will pay you to sign my uniform,” he said desperately to Steve. “Sir,” he added as an afterthought.

“No need,” Steve smiled. “But my hands are kinda tied.”

Sasha grabbed the wallet and opened it. There was some photographs of the three, a couple of gift cards, and a driver's licence. The first thing she noticed was the bullshit birthdate. July 4th, 1918. Probably a fake. Maybe the guy was younger than he looked.

Then she noticed the name. STEVEN GRANT ROGERS.

She should have said something respectful, but what came out of her mouth was, “You’re Captain America and the best thing you think to do with your spare time is join in bar fights instead of breaking them up?”

Not one of her finest moments, but Sergeant Barnes laughed and Agent Carter smirked.

“Hey, the guy tried to drug my best gal. Wasn’t gonna stand for it, especially when he came at her with a knife!” Steve Rogers protested.

“Whatdabout your best guy,” Barnes asked mischievously.

“Woulda drank the entire beer and glared at the person who drugged it as they slowly realized it wasn’t doin’ a fuckin’ thing. Then, if they tried to make a fuss, I woulda had Peggy punch him.”

Carter nodded, as if this was a sound idea.

“You confronted this man knowing it wouldn’t have affected you anyway?” Sasha asked Agent Carter.

“It wasn’t about me,” she admitted freely, not breaking eye contact. “I would have been fine, but what if the man had done it to someone else? Someone who wasn’t every bit the super soldier I was? He could have raped that person without anyone the wiser. I confronted him about this, he got angry, and here we are.”

Sasha had to admit she had a point and Captain Rogers looked happy with the answer. A second later Sasha's partner came back.

“Drink had a roofie in it. Rohypnol, or Flunitrazepam,” he explained. “I also had the EMT’s check the man’s pockets. He had a couple more with him.”

She nodded. “And the video files?”

“Confirmed that the man who drugged the glass started the fight and his friends joined in. I had it called into the precinct and apparently there has been a few serial raping in this area.”

Sasha nodded. “Then you three are free to go, though you may be called into the court hearing. Chances are you won't, what with the proof and video evidence.”

She handed her partner the keys to the cuff and he quickly freed the super-soldiers. Captain America did sign the sleeve of the EMT, who swooned, and they piled into the nearby black van. Watching them drive off, Sasha decided to go watch the video as well.

She kinda wanted to see Peggy Carter kick a rapist's ass, if only for her own enjoyment.

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