A/N: I'm supposed to be working on another project, but the idea for this attacked whilst I was running this morning. This is unbetaed and, for the most part, unedited. Kinda like my Inktober stories. This lives within my expendable universe and falls probably the March prior to Civil War.

Kiss Me I'm Irish

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I came out of the shower toweling my hair dry to find Myla setting out clothes on the bed. The ugliest damn clothes I had ever seen and the brightest shade of green I had ever had the displeasure of laying my eyes upon. Also decked out in green, tights, short skirt and a top that showed off those upper body muscles she had and…

"What the hell did you do to your hair?"

She looked over her shoulder at me, a shamrock made out of glitter on her cheek, and grinned. "It's temporary. To get in the spirit of the day and all."

"The day?"

She huffed out a breath. "Tony has been going on about this party for weeks are you really going to try and tell me you forgot?"

Actually, I kind of had. I'd been on a week-long op with Sam, Wanda, and a tactical team and had only been back thirty-six hours or so. The debrief had taken longer than I preferred, but necessary. We'd accomplished the task, but as had happened often as of late, things had not gone to plan. No innocents had been hurt this time, but there'd been property damage that various Stark relief services were assisting with.

There were times, many times, I wanted to stay behind and help them rebuild but rarely did. We did the occasional disaster relief, major earthquakes and the like, but it never seemed to be enough. We'd prevent one disaster be it ISIS or AIM or the Ten Rings and be blamed for not being there after we'd saved the proverbial day.

And here Tony wanted to have a party.

"Myls, There's nothing to celebrate."

"There's nothing to– Steve, does there need to be a reason? We're alive. That's worth celebrating if nothing else." She tossed the shirt at me and I dropped the towel to catch it. "You remember that talk we had?"

I held the shirt trying to ignore the eye-searing color when I saw the jeans, also dyed a vivid green. "Which one? We've had so many."

She moved to stand in front of him a single finger poking into one firm pectoral muscle. "About taking the time to be us every now and then."

"Oh. That." She had a point and a party where I didn't have to be anything more than Steve Rogers might actually be fun. "But why all this?" I gestured at her current tacky beyond measure ensemble.

"Uh, St. Patrick's Day ring a bell?"

I blinked at her. "St. Patrick's Day?"

She laughed softly, eyes lighting up. "Yes. You know that one big American holiday that celebrates all things Irish as another excuse to get drunk. I seem to recall you being of that descent, or have I misremembered?"

God, what a smartass. "Of course you've remembered correctly." I leaned in and kissed her on the tip of her perky little nose. "I'm in." This time I kissed her on the lips, taking my time and wishing she hadn't already dressed for the revels or I'd've taken time to enjoy a proper welcome home. Based on the look in her eyes when I pulled away she felt the same.

"Later. After the party," she told me. "Now let's get you ready, shall we?"

I sighed but submitted wearing the godawful clothes she'd picked out for me.

. . .

I had to admit to being impressed. I had concerns that she'd been snowing me and we'd show up to a room full of people with cameras just waiting to take and post pics of Captain America dressed like a fucking leprechaun. Everyone else wore green to varying degrees. T-shirts, tacky shorts, hats, glasses. Tony had even had a suit made in virulent bright green complete with bowler hat and cane.

And the food… the food smelled like home. Corned beef and cabbage, colcannon, soda bread, Shepard's Pie, you name it. Everything that I had eaten time and time again as a kid. Then came all the booze, the bar overflowing with every kind of Irish beer or liquor imaginable.

As always, Tony had spared no expense.

The same Tony who spotted us the moment we entered the room and strolled over, sliding his glasses down his nose to give me the once-over.

"What?" I complained, almost whining. I hadn't really wanted to wear the outfit she'd picked, but given hers, I hadn't fought all that hard. Compared to Myla and some of the others what I wore could be considered tame in comparison. I'd even let her put some green streaks in my hair that she swore would wash out my next shower. Yeah, green from head to toe including the Chucks she'd procured from who knew where.

Tony snorted. "Would you do the honors?" He waved at Myla.

"Sure."

Not having a clue what the fuck was going on I stared at Myla who sidled closer and kissed me on the cheek while half the room took pictures and cheered.

"I'm impressed. Seriously. I didn't think you could do it." He dug into his pocket and pulled out wad cash which he handed over to her.

"Doll?" I questioned.

"Oh, don't get mad at her. I didn't think she'd get you to even show up, but this… this is too perfect." Tony smiled and turned away with a chuckle. "Let the revels continue." He spun about and lost himself in the crowd. Much as anyone could in that outfit.

"What the fuck? You bet on me?"

She grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me off to the side. "The bet was not my idea, but Tony pushed so hard I said fuck it. I was going to drag you to this party one way or another. NO way I wasn't going to take Tony's money. He had more than he needs. Plus he was being a major dick about the whole thing,"

I sighed softly. I knew how Tony could be, pushing and prodding and poking until he got what he wanted. Myla taking advantage of thing wasn't the worst thing on the planet and I had to admit I didn't mind all that much, I could use a bit of revel myself. "Why was Tony so impressed?" I questioned.

She snickered. "The shirt."

I plucked at the ugly-ass green tee with white lettering. "Why? It just says…" I scrubbed a hand across my face. "Kiss me I'm Irish."

She grinned. "Exactly."

"How do I let you talk me into stuff like this?" I asked, knowing precisely why and not actually minding all that much.

"Because I'm cute as a button."

I laughed softly. "That too." Then I kissed her most thoroughly. "Is fifteen minutes enough to be considered duty met here?"

She snickered, grasped my hand and twirled away, causing the skirt to flare out and show off that the tights were actually garters. "Sadly, no. C'mon, Captain, let us drink and be merry for a few hours."

I permitted her to drag me away from the corner I'd tucked us into and out into the crowd.

finis