After about an hour of the party, when everyone had finished eating and the plates had been disposed of, I was still sitting next to Bucky on one of the sofas, close enough to be encircled in his halo of warmth. At some point after we'd finished eating he'd put his metal arm around my shoulders casually. Natasha hadn't stopped smirking the entire time, but she'd gone off to talk to Clint about something. Gran was talking to Steve halfway across the room—probably talking about the forties or thirties. She was in her early nineties so she was only about five years younger than Steve and Bucky, so it stood to reason she remembered some of those decades long-past. I'm sure Steve was enjoying it if that was what they were talking about, but they were too far away and talking quietly under the chatter of everyone else and the gentle music playing in the background so I didn't know for sure.

Sometime during the party Tony insisted Bucky dance with me. He apparently was sober enough to remember the time when I danced with him at that other party. So after a good five minutes of everyone cheering for us, chanting our names, Bucky slapped his knees and stood up. "Alright then," he remarked, turning and offering me his hand. "My love?" I sighed heavily and took his hand, letting him haul me to my feet. Steve and Thor moved the heavy glass coffee table out of the way as Natasha and Clint moved a couple sofas to make a bigger space in the middle. I passed my phone to Steve to hold on to so it wouldn't fly out of my pocket and break.

"No lifts. Not in this dress," I hissed.

"Yes ma'am," Bucky replied.

We did a simple dance when Tony cranked the music's volume up. I got spun around a lot and bent backward several times but other than that, Bucky kept my feet mostly on the ground. We ended on a dip so low my hair pooled on the ground I could practically feel the floor about two inches from my head. That elicited cheers and whistles from the others. Also a few camera shutter sounds. Bucky popped me back up to my feet and kissed my forehead while giving me a quick hug.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Tony exclaimed, downing something from a martini glass. We took a bow and sat back down. Steve gave me back my phone.

Gran nudged me with her elbow as I flopped onto the sofa between her and Bucky. "Good job, butterfly! You would have given me and your grampa a run for our money back in the day!" I blushed and chuckled. "You certainly married the right guy for you." Another guilty blush tinted my cheeks. Gran didn't notice.

After another hour of idle socializing during which I generally avoided everyone unless they spoke first, I sensed that most everyone was far past tipsy—except me, Steve, Bucky, Gran, and Natasha. Bucky and Steve couldn't get drunk because of their super-soldier metabolisms, I chose not to drink alcohol, Gramma claimed she was too old for more than maybe one small glass of wine, and Natasha's tolerance was higher than everyone else's (except maybe Tony's) because she was used to strong Russian vodka or something. Even Thor was swaying slightly on his feet—his Asgardian ale or whatever he kept in that vial of his was helping, I'm sure.

"I'll be right back," Bucky murmured to me. "I'm going to go ask Steve something."

I shrugged. "Go ahead," I replied, a little tired.

Bucky stood and sauntered over to his best friend. The two soldiers talked quietly with their heads together while I sat on the sofa on my own, mostly ignoring the looks I could feel the others casting my way every so often.

Suddenly Sam flopped into the empty seat next to me—pretty slammed—and laid his head on my lap. "Hey gorgeous," he greeted, voice slurred and thick with alcohol. "You know, you have beautiful eyes."

Lightweight, I thought sarcastically.

I pursed my lips and tried to push him off. "Thanks. But please get off."

"Why?" Falcon moaned childishly. "You're nice and soft and warm!"

"Sam. You're drunk. Get off," I snapped.

"No," he decided.

"Sam, seriously! Off!" I tried to push him off of me again, but he was too heavy and too strong. He threw his arms around my shoulders and wasn't letting go. "Get! Off!" I ordered, voice rising in pitch since I was stressed. "Please!" I had no idea—apart from too much alcohol—what was bringing his bizarre behavior on. We were friends because he had a very amiable personality, but there had never been any interest of any kind between us. Ever. His drunk brain probably just thought it was funny.

A shadow swooped out of nowhere and wrenched Sam off of me, hurling him across the room into the opposite wall.

"Bucky!" I breathed in shock, leaping to my feet.

My pretend husband was standing a few scant inches in front of me, glaring across the room at Sam where he was groaning in pain on the floor. He was seething and his normally bright blue eyes had turned dark and threatening. He was breathing heavily—more from anger than effort—and almost growling. I stared at him, trying to think of something to say. He was fuming and glaring and more furious than I'd ever seen him—which was saying something. My jaw was hanging open and I was completely thunderstruck.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Steve grinning, eyebrows raised, staring at both of us with hearts in his eyes—probably because he "shipped us so hard!" Natasha was smirking again, a knowing glint in her expression that I wanted to wipe off but didn't because I was too scared to leave Bucky where he was in whatever state he was in.

Bucky took a heavy step forward, towards Sam. I grabbed his hand, pulling him back as well as I could, gently.

He whirled, turning his murderous glare to me.

Until he realized it was me, a pleading look on my face.

His hard look softened—angry lines smoothing out.

He licked his lips to moisten them after his heavy breathing dried them out and just stared at me for several moments. Several tense moments in which I couldn't do anything except stare back, my own breathing a bit heavier than I'd prefer in fear and anticipation.

I felt his fingers squeeze around mine—tight enough that he knew I was there but loose enough that he didn't crush my fingers.

He kissed me. Hard. Deep. Desperate.

On the lips.

In front of everybody.

After a moment of a rigid spine and wide eyes, I relaxed so thoroughly against him my knees almost gave way under me. I would have fallen over if his arms hadn't suddenly clutched my shoulders and pressed them towards his powerful chest. My eyes fluttered closed and I released the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

The moment was intense, warm, and completely enveloping. For an intoxicating moment I forgot I was deeply kissing an ex-assassin in front of a room full of other people just as capable of murdering me as he was—and my own grandmother. All I was conscious of was Bucky's mouth on mine and his hair tickling the sides of my face where it had escaped his man-bun. My hands had unconsciously moved from holding onto his up to the middle of his back. I could feel his muscles tense and roll under my fingertips.

Then Clint loudly cleared his throat.

Bucky pulled away first. I opened my eyes after a moment or two of slight shock but his stayed closed, forehead tilting to rest against mine, brows furrowed. We were both breathing heavily.

When his blue eyes finally opened, they did nothing but stare at me, mouth slightly open. Mine was as well—like we both couldn't believe we'd really just done that. I probably looked surprised and he looked confused. I'm sorry, he mouthed to me, closing his eyes. I shook my head as my hands slipped from his back to his waist.

"Don't be," I breathed.

Tony catcall-whistled—he was so far past drunk I was surprised he was still on his feet. Steve had his arms folded, looking extremely smug. I raised one eyebrow at him. All he did was give me three handshapes from the ASL alphabet—which Clint had taught us all ages ago. OTP. I narrowed my eyes. Steve shrugged and smirked. "I ship it so hard," he commented. I could barely hear him over the music in the background.

Natasha was sitting near Clint—still relatively sober—and smiling widely.

Gramma was cheering. "How sweet!" she exclaimed. "You two are one of the cutest couples I've ever laid my old eyes on!" I blushed the color of an embarrassed ripe strawberry and kept my face turned away from her. But thank heavens most everyone else was drunk enough that there was a good chance most of them wouldn't even remember this come tomorrow. A great advantage to always being completely stone-cold sober is I was always one of the like three people who remembered everything that happened. Let's just say I had lots of blackmail on Tony and Clint in particular.

Bucky held me close to his back and turned to Sam—who was just barely managing to pick himself off the floor, swaying on his feet. "Don't ever try that with my wife ever again," he snapped viciously.

The Falcon blearily nodded. "Right," he mumbled, voice still slurred.

End Note: I'm just going to leave this here without saying anything.

To "candycrum": Thank you! To "AssembleCHB": Thank you! Glad you liked the chapter and the humor and the characters! I know it would be kind of cool but I don't think I'm gonna do it. I don't know yet though. To "daringwolf2000": Thanks! Glad you're still liking her grandma and Natasha and super excited you got my Sherlock Holmes reference! To "Fanficqueen306": I'm not sure if Steve got it from Nat or Tony or Darcy or Cass herself - but it was definitely one of them. But I know Cass didn't just ask him because he's just the "Hot" friend (as she very well could have asked Steve or Thor but she didn't). They met when Steve introduced them. Everything else I'm trying to write into later chapters. To "Kelsoc": Was last chapter really that angsty? To "RussianAssassin": Yeah I know Seb played Beck and Bucky. I get it. (For the moving train thing, they asked him about that in an interview and Seb as like, "Yeah no they didn't do that because I was Bucky but it was funny." Or something like that.) And, sadly, I'm afraid there is no dodgeball chapter. To "inperfection": Super happy you like Gran! And yes. Bucky in a suit. Have you seen the pictures of Sebastian Stan at the Captain America: The Winter Soldier premiere where he's wearing an all-black suit (shirt, tie, and all)? It is so immensely handsome! To "Whitelion69": Thank you! Great to hear! To "Captain Murica 2002": Thank you so much! I'm happy to hear that you seem to be liking it! To "KiyaNamiel": Don't worry about being too lazy to sign in. I get that. I think Nat is the first mate on USS Casscky (Steve is the captain - obviously). There's no such thing as liking something as innocent as this too much! To "Hannah (Guest)": Thank you! Glad you're enthusiastic! To "callieandjack": You better not be trying to take him from me! You've already got Steve! (And I'm willing to relinquish my hold on some of the others but I'm keeping Bucky.) And I don't know if Bucky dated her gramma yet or not! I haven't decided! To "Angelbaby1231": Perhaps Bucky does need a push (read: gigantic shove) in the right direction and yes, Natasha is busy working on Cass - LOL.

Welp, thanks everybody for reading! Hope y'all are having as much fun as I am! Questions? Comments? Leave a review if you got something! Love y'all!