May 16, 1940
Penny thought the whole place looked ridiculous. There were obnoxious strands of confetti in her hair from when she'd been bombarded with them, mostly everyone had one too many drinks in them, and all she wanted to do was go home and curl in her bed. Still, she'd promised Bucky she'd stay, and she prided herself on the fact that she'd never broken a promise to either one of her boys. She was regretting her pride in that particular moment, but still, she was proud. The only occupant at the bar, her finger moved around the rim of her shot of whiskey that Bucky had bought for her, untouched because Bucky was too drunk to remember that Penny didn't even like whiskey. Like clockwork, her eyes moved up to the door of the dance hall, shoulder slumping when it didn't open.
"He'll be here, doll," Bucky slurred form beside her. Penny was glad to see that tonight she was dealing with Positive Bucky. She liked to categorize drunk Bucky into three different slots. Weepy Bucky was rare, but occasionally did happen. That was the Bucky that needed to be reassured every five minutes and didn't want to go to sleep alone, which usually resulted in Steve or Penny staying the night at his apartment and sleeping on his couch. Daredevil Bucky was usually the most common. That was the Bucky that thought he could get into random fights on the walk back to his apartment, and the Bucky that thought he could fly if he just jumped off his bed high enough. Positive Bucky was by far her favorite, and she was just fine dealing with him when she inevitably had to carry him home. "He promised. And you know he never breaks his promises."
She knew that. She knew everything about him. She knew his middle name and what he liked to eat when he was sick (which was often), and she knew that he put his left shoe on before his right shoe even though he was right-handed. She knew that his internal clock woke him up at precisely seven in the morning everyday and that he kept his father's war memorabilia in a sturdy chest in his closet at Bucky's apartment. She knew he missed his mother. She knew he felt like he had to repay Bucky for letting him move in when Sarah died. And she knew that he had promised at precisely 10:13 yesterday morning that he would be at the dance hall at eleven sharp the following night so he could be with Penny at midnight, when she officially turned twenty-one.
It was 1:20.
"I'm worried about him," she admitted, still twirling her finger around the shot of whiskey.
"Hey, no!" Bucky shouted, shaking his head. "You can't be sad on your birthday. Steve will show up soon enough. Drink your whiskey," he ordered, sliding the glass even closer to her than it already was. "You like whiskey, right? I can't remember." He laughed to himself and slumped against the bar. "I'm going to regret this in the morning, aren't I?"
"Most definitely." She couldn't help smiling affectionately at him. He was like the older brother she never had, looking out for her in the same way he looked out for Rebecca. Her hand reached out and tapped the tip of his nose. "You're still handsome, though. Not a sloppy drunk like you usually are. I'm sure if you ask that pretty redhead over there, she'll dance with you." The redhead had been eyeing Bucky all night, waiting for the moment he left the bar and made his way out to the dance floor. The redhead was Bucky's usual type: female and breathing. Penny liked that about Bucky; it didn't matter what women looked like, he loved them all the same.
Bucky shook his head, glassy eyes focusing on her. "I can't leave the birthday girl here to wallow by herself. He'll show up," he repeated. Realizing she probably wasn't going to drink it, he stole her glass and downed the whiskey in the time it took her to blink. "Cut me off soon, yeah? Or else you're gonna have to drag me home by the ankles." Penny laughed, shaking her head.
"Go ask her to dance, Buck. I'm fine here. I'll order a drink for myself that I actually enjoy." She eyed the bartender until he noticed her and moved to her end of the bar. "I'll take a French 75, please." The bartender nodded and went to go make her drink. Bucky crinkled his nose in disgust at her order. "What? It's my birthday and I can order what I want."
"Yeah, but a French 75? Why not just lick sugar off the counter?" Then, he grinned. "Hey, remember your eighteenth birthday when you got drunk off those four French 75s? Steve and I basically had to carry you home." The bartender set her drink in front of her before she could make a witty retort; Penny forwent a sarcastic remark in favor of taking a sip of her drink. "I'm gonna go ask that redhead to dance. Unless my absolute best friend in the world needs me to wallow with her some more, then I'll get more alcohol."
"Go ask her to dance, Buck. I'll be fine." He nodded and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her hair before he was weaving through the crowd. She could see him walk up to the redhead and bow, like he was before a queen. Penny would have laughed straight in his face, but the redhead ate it up. The two of them made their way to the dance floor, and Penny lost the sight of them in a sea of people.
She should have asked someone to dance. She didn't think she was incredibly unfortunate-looking, and someone would surely take pity on the fact that it was her birthday and she didn't have a dancing partner. But she knew it was no use. Whoever she danced with wouldn't be Steve and she wouldn't enjoy it. Over the years of her little crush, she had simply accepted the fact that no one would ever be Steve. It was just something Penny had to get used to.
"A pretty girl like you shouldn't look so blue on her birthday," a small voice said from behind her. Penny knew who it was before she even turned, her skin buzzing with some kind of electrical energy she always seemed to get around him. It was almost comical how immediately her face lit up at the sound of his voice, and when she turned, she saw the faint tinge of pink on his face from the adjective he'd used to describe her. It probably had taken him a lot of guts to say it out loud, since Steve was usually shy around women, even after being Penny's best friend for nearly all their lives.
The second thing she noticed was his split lip and bloody nose.
"Steve!" She immediately slid out of her seat and grabbed a napkin from the counter, pressing it to Steve's nose. "What happened?"
"Someone tried to steal this," he held up a badly-wrapped, bent box and shrugged, "and I couldn't let him get away with your present. I managed to lose him a couple blocks away from here after I wrestled him for it." Penny dabbed at his nose, wiping away all of the blood before instructing him to tilt his head down. "Good thing you're in school to be a nurse, yeah?"
"I'm sorry," she said softly, shaking her head. "If you hadn't been carrying it, this wouldn't have happened. Pinch the soft part of your nose. If it doesn't stop bleeding in about fifteen minutes, we've got a problem."
"You couldn't have dragged me away from this. It's your birthday. Of course I'm here." He followed her instruction and she helped him lower onto a seat. "Is that a French 75?" he asked distractedly. She hummed out a response, too concerned with making sure he was putting pressure on the correct part of his nose. He grinned, which was probably bad for his split lip but made Penny's heart flip in her chest. "Remember your eighteenth when you got drunk off those four French 75s?" Penny laughed, shaking her head.
"You and Bucky really are more alike than you think. Have some, if you want. Might help with the pain if you drink." He accepted the glass from her, blushing at the fact that she had previously been drinking out of the same cup (as showcased by her bright red lipstick along the edge of the rim), but taking a small sip. His face scrunched as the first bit of alcohol hit him, but took the rest of the gulp like a champ, setting it back down beside Penny's hand. "How's your nose feeling?" Penny asked softly, probing at his face with her fingers to see the damage. "I don't think it's broken, just bleeding. The guy must not have packed much in his punch."
"I think he was nervous about me screaming for help or something. His aim was off, too."
Penny smiled wryly. "Steve Rogers, screaming for help? He obviously doesn't know you very well." Steve let out a small laugh. "You never let Bucky or me help. Even though I'm sure Bucky could inflict the damage of ten men and I'd just knee them where the sun doesn't shine."
"I can't hide behind you and Bucky for the rest of my life," Steve said, shrugging his shoulders. He pulled the napkin away from his nose and examined the blood on it. "I think it stopped bleeding." The napkin was forgotten somewhere on the counter as Steve brought his hand up, setting his badly-wrapped gift on the bar next to Penny's arm. "Since I'm late, I figure it's only fair that you should open your birthday present now."
Bucky, as if sensing that the last little piece of their trio was finally there, appeared out of thin air, sans redhead. "Steve!" Bucky cheered enthusiastically, clapping poor Steve on the shoulder, who crumpled under the weight of Bucky's friendly pat. "We missed you, punk. Poor Penny was wallowing. On her birthday! Can you believe it?" Steve gave Penny a look, as if asking how many drinks Bucky had consumed. Penny shrugged. "Did Steve get you a present? Open it, open it," Bucky said quickly, as if the world would explode if Penny didn't open her present fast enough. Penny obliged Bucky's request, tearing off the wrapping paper. Inside, there was a simple wooden box with the word Bowles written across it. Bucky stared at it curiously but Penny knew exactly what it was and the breath left her lungs.
"No, Steve," she whispered, hugging the box to her chest. "It's too much. You must have been saving for at least a year. You have to take it back."
He pushed her hands away when she tried to offer the box to him. "What would I use it for? You're worth it, Penny." Penny protested some more before Steve gently pushed the box away from him. "C'mon, open it. I've got something I want to show you."
Penny set the box on the bar and opened the lid. Bucky, who had been expecting some kind of jewelry, stared at the box with confusion written all over his face. "I'm sorry," Bucky suddenly mentioned, "but you mean to tell me you're getting all sappy because Steve bought you... a stethoscope?"
"It's so beautiful," Penny said happily, the smile on her face big. "And it's way too expensive. They sell for around eight dollars."
Bucky's eyes bugged. "Eight dollars? Steve, you know you can't go around selling your organs, right? Especially since yours don't work properly anyway." Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky's jab. "But seriously, um... you got her something for work?"
"Don't be rude to my gift just because you don't want one. I've been needing one for months. The ones at the hospital are older and aren't as advanced. Steve, it's the best gift I could have ever asked for." She flung herself off her chair and wrapped her arms around Steve's neck. However, in her happiness, she forgot how small and thin Steve actually was, and she felt him rocking backwards with the weight of Penny crashing into him. Before she could stop him, the both of them toppled over and onto the floor of the dance hall. Steve's arms came around Penny's waist to cushion her from the brunt of the fall as they slid to the ground. "Oh my God," she giggled out, brushing her hair from her face. "Are you okay?" She searched his face for any external injuries before deciding he was alright. Then, the laughter started. "I promise I didn't mean to ram you over."
Steve laughed with her as Bucky leaned down to hold a hand out for both Penny and Steve. After the two were both pulled upwards, Bucky rolled his eyes. "People are gonna think you guys are drunk."
"Believe me, Buck, no one is going to believe we've had more drinks than you," Steve mentioned, taking his place in his stool once more. "There's a pretty redhead staring you down over there." Steve's finger lifted discreetly and pointed in the direction of the pretty girl from earlier.
"Oh yeah. I promised I'd go back and dance with her. Hold my drink," he said to Steve, handing off his empty glass to the smaller man before disappearing into the crowd once more. Penny and Steve shared a look before Steve rolled his eyes and made Penny laugh.
"So the thing I wanted to show you," Steve said softly, taking the stethoscope from her hands and turning it over in his own, "is this. It's so no one will confuse it with theirs, because this stethoscope is property of Penny Edith Chamberlain." Penny was about to complain about the use of her middle name, but her breath caught in her throat when Steve showed her what was scrawled in elegant script on the bell of the stethoscope. P.E.C.
"Steve, you're gonna make me cry." And it was true. Especially after most of her French 75 was now in her system and the fact that she hadn't eaten anything was leaving her feeling a little tipsy. While there were three types of drunk Bucky, there was usually only one kind of drunk Penny. Drunk Penny equaled Emotional Penny, who got extremely happy or sad at any given moment in time. And with Steve's thoughtful gift, Penny felt tears welling in her eyes. "It's the best gift I've ever gotten. It must have taken you so long to save." She took it from her hands and held it to her chest. "I'm never letting anyone else touch it. Except you, but even then I might be a little stingy. Bucky isn't putting his grimy little hands anywhere near it."
Steve let out a loud laugh that shook his entire frame. "I'm glad you like it." He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, another one of his little habits Penny had picked up on over the years. "Make sure you bring it home from the hospital everyday. I'm pretty sure you'll need to use it on me twice daily." The joke from his lips had Penny laughing again, the giggle unable to stop itself from bubbling in her throat.
"You don't have a lot of faith in yourself. I'm betting I only have to use it once daily," she quipped.
This was what Penny Chamberlain was used to. Her boys, all together in one place, Steve letting loose and actually having a drink while Penny oohed and ahed at her new stethoscope, bragging about how the girls would be jealous when they saw it. And even as Penny had to struggled to carry most of Bucky's weight on the way home because Steve didn't have enough muscle to shoulder more than forty percent of Bucky's weight, Penny was grateful for one more year of life with her boys.
