( of all the people in cadelle that kimberly could stalk, she thinks she could probably do worse than steve rogers. even without the comforting encouragement of liquor in her veins, she's got zero complaints about turning her body towards him, the hem of her shirt shifting up over her hips.

her clothes are no more revealing than a bathing suit, but lace is different than lycra and spandex; if she was paying more attention, it might have earned a blush. instead, she's all smiles as he ribs her for where her attention does go. )

What can I say? I have good taste. ( she can tell he's kidding, so his teasing words only earn a wider grin in return over the lip of her cup. ) I wouldn't say no to a schedule, though, if you're offering.

( across the room, a raucous burst of laughter echoes out, what must be a new bottle being opened and poured out for shots all around. someone she doesn't recognize hollers out offers for shots, and kimberly can only shake her head in a polite decline before turning towards steve again. ) I'm good, but if you wanted one?