A/N~Language alert. Obviously.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Captain America's daughter, you were used to not cursing. Anywhere. You usually took up your dad's habits, telling the others off for it. Until you were fooling around with Tony's suits one day, trying to help him fix it. As a surprise, of course.

The repulsor was broken, and Tony had been complaining about it since the incident. His daughter had offered to fix it, but she had never gotten around to it, ticking Tony off. Badly. So when he was grounding his daughter for it, you snuck down and grabbed a few tools, getting to work.

Jarvis's voice interrupted your thoughts, you crossed wires, resulting in setting the repulsor off, with you on the receiving end. You flew backwards into the Porche, groaning.

"Fuck!" You struggled to sit upright on the hood.

"(Y/N)?" Oh, shit, you thought. It was Father Figure, come to see where you were. You scrambled upright, standing at attention as he walked over.

"Too much time hanging around Tony, huh?" He asked. You swallowed, replying.

"Yes, sir." He nodded.

"You do know what this means, right?" You nodded.

"35 pushups and two weeks without electronics and/or contact with the others." He smiled faintly, nodding again. You dropped to starting position, looking up at your father.

"Permission to begin, Captain?"

"Permission granted." You knocked out the 35, Steve standing over you. You looked at the floor the whole time. When you finished, you looked at him, painfully as it was.

"Permission to recover, Captain?"

"Permission granted. Now get to your room. The Purgatory starts." You winced at his bad pun, but kept it hidden.

"Yes, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N~Sorry/Not Sorry for the pushups. As someone in the JROTC program, I watched two guys to lover pushups today. Not something new, yet not something old, either.