[ After everything, you would think that something as inconsequential as clothes wouldn't register on Steve's radar. Somehow he still ends up obsessing over what he should wear, both in terms of making sure he fits in with the time and, more importantly, in making his second first impression with Peggy Carter. He doesn't think her so vain that it will even matter, which makes it all the more frustrating when he still loses the better part of the morning switching in and out of clothes.
So, the first absurdly inane thought that Steve has as he gets tackled to the ground is that he wasted all that time pressing his slacks. Then he hears her voice, in that achingly familiar exasperated tone, and the dirt stains on his pants are downgraded to the last thing he could give a damn about. ]
Peggy! [ Steve exclaim-exhales, fresh out of breath in part from the surprise, in part because she so expertly knocked him to the ground. Flat on his back under her weight— which he remembers being substantially less, though he'd go to his grave before mentioning it— Steve can only sit there and wait for the cursing streak to come to its natural end. He's missed her so much that even that puts a goofy smile on his face. ]
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So, the first absurdly inane thought that Steve has as he gets tackled to the ground is that he wasted all that time pressing his slacks. Then he hears her voice, in that achingly familiar exasperated tone, and the dirt stains on his pants are downgraded to the last thing he could give a damn about. ]
Peggy! [ Steve exclaim-exhales, fresh out of breath in part from the surprise, in part because she so expertly knocked him to the ground. Flat on his back under her weight— which he remembers being substantially less, though he'd go to his grave before mentioning it— Steve can only sit there and wait for the cursing streak to come to its natural end. He's missed her so much that even that puts a goofy smile on his face. ]