Carefully placing the dinner plates down with precise precision. She stood back to admire her colourful meal. Brooke tapped her on the shoulder and requested a lift up onto the table so she could place the centre piece flowers. It was the first time in a long time, Bea had managed to actually decorate the table without it being littered with mess. In fact, the only positive about Alex moving in, is the whole house seemed tidier.

Nervous bubbles flittered in her stomach, waiting for the door to knock. She'd never felt nervous about Steve coming around before, but after their argument she had no idea where they had left things and was only under the assumption he had sorted everything with the government. Then there was Alex. Tensions would rise high between the two men and she was relying heavily on Brooke to disappear that tension.

Alex didn't speak to her but stayed very much in the living room, keeping Brooke company with pictures and crayons.

"Why you worried mumma?" Brooke asked, noticing the creased lines forming on her mum's forehead.

"Nothing sweetie."

A knock sounded from the door and it was Brooke that launched off her chair and skidded over to it. Throwing it open, she practically leapt up into the arms of Steve Rogers. Beatrice breathed out a sigh of relief that it was in fact Steve and not a neighbour or someone else at the door that wouldn't have expected a toddler to dart into their arms like that.

"Stevie!" Brooke giggled when Steve threw her over his shoulder, laughing the whole way, "Mumma! Told oo' he wou' come."

"I never doubted he would."

Balancing in his arms, Brooke leaned over into Steve's ear and whispered, "Yes she did."

As Steve entered the room, Alex jumped across the room and stood by the dining table and began to help her set up, as if he'd been there the whole time.

"Merry Christmas!" Bea smiled brightly and hugged Steve.

"Merry Christmas."

"Can I open p'wesents now?"

"Course."

Brooke became busy tearing open wrapping paper. As promised, Steve had gotten her tickets to explore the NASA station with him and Natasha. Natasha brought her an extremely expensive telescope, that was too tall for the four year old to even use at all. Bruce had brought her a few colouring pens, Bea's sister and brother together brought her a set of the Harry Potter Books. When she reached the teddy bear Alex brought her, she smiled at it, cuddled it and then tossed it to the side.

Bea could have laughed at Alex's crestfallen face.

He picked it up, "hey, Brooke. Why don't you play with this?"

"Maybe later," She shrugged, flicking through her astronomy books.

She had yet to open her dog tags, but Bea stared anxiously at the small tucked away present under the tree.

"You sure you don't want to play with her?" Alex wiggled the bear in his hands, "you might hurt her feelings? Maybe you can give her a name?"

"She said she'd play with it later," Steve snapped, "Just let her do what she wants to do."

"just because you can afford really expensive gifts."

"That's completely irrelevant-"

"Okay, let's have a break from present opening, shall we?" Beatrice cut the tension between the men, "Shall we dish up the dinner now? Yeah… I think that's a good idea."

As she passed Steve, he sent her an apologetic stare. Alex didn't have the same decency.

Around the table, Brooke entertained Steve and distracted the two men from glaring at one another. God bless her child for being as sociable as she was.

Escaping to the kitchen she set to work getting everything onto plates.

"How's work?" she heard Steve ask Alex politely.

"Good. Got a few new children coming tomorrow so that'll be good. How's… your work?"

Alex had no clue as to what Steve really did these days. Aware he was Captain America, but in the recent years the Avengers Initiative disappeared out of the news. It was a good thing really as Steve now was able to walk around without getting recognised everywhere and blame and accusations being shouted at him in the streets for the snap. However, Steve didn't really have a job much anymore. Every now and then he would disappear for a few weeks to do missions with Nat. He had his support sessions to keep him occupied. Whenever he had a spare day free, he would knock on Bea's door and ask if Brooke was free to spend the day with him. That happened less and less now that Alex had moved in.

"It's good."

"How's the support sessions?" She swore she heard a hint of mockery in Alex's voice but continued with her task of successfully getting everyone's dinners on a plate without spilling any of the gravy.

"Same as usual. People still struggling."

"It's hard. Even after all these years, people still need help. It's a good thing they've got people like you to turn too."

"Yeah… I suppose."

"Stevie," Brooke broke the tension with her sweet voice, "at nurse-wy today, I made a dance with ma' fwend."

"You did? Let's see it then."

"You've not shown this to me yet, Brooke-y," Alex said, "show us what you made."

As quick as she could, Bea slammed the plates of dinner onto the table before Steve could retort back at Alex's consistent butting in. Her oven mitts still on, she glared at Alex for causing unneeded tension.

"I don't wike dis'," Brooke dangled a roast potato on the end of her fork before flopping it down on her plate and gravy went everywhere.

"Yes, you do."

"it messy."

"Good thing you like mess then," Steve laughed, bringing her fork up and pretending it was a rocket ship. Anything space related Brooke giggled at, and opened her mouth wide to let it in, "See. It's yummy."

They dug into their meals. Conversation was stretched and they ended up talking about the recent heavy rain warnings that were fast approaching, Brooke got bored of that conversation easily and started blabbering about her friends at nursery. When the awkward silence lingered in the air for too long, Brooke was at the ready with something entertaining and she enjoyed the attention focused on her.

"It's Brooke's birthday soon," Steve said, clearing his plate, "I was thinking this year we could go to the Smithsonian. Brooke was too young really to understand anything the last time I took her."

"I'm old now!" Brooke span her fork in the air, "I will get it now."

"I would, Steve, but I'm not allowed to leave New York. Remember?" Under the table she wiggled her foot where a band was strapped around her leg, allowing the government to know her every location.

"I'm sure we can think of something. 'Tasha could hack it."

Bea snorted, "You're asking me to break the rules of my government agreement? Steve Rogers, you're full of surprises. If you're sure we won't get caught, of course I'll come." It had been an age since she'd visited the Smithsonian.

"Is this Bucka smonian? My dadda?"

"That's right, kiddo."

"Next weekend?" Alex frowned, only just entering the conversation. Truthfully, Bea had forgotten he was there until his elbow hit hers, "I booked that weekend off. I was hoping to do something with Brooke myself. Maybe Ice skating?"

"You'll have moved out by then," Bea grimaced, her fingers tightening on her fork, "And I'd rather spend the day with my daughter at the Smithsonian. "

One more day. One more day. Then… then she can kick him out without upsetting Brooke.

"You'll be breaking the law? That government agreement thing says you're not allowed to leave New York. Are you actually going to put yourself in danger like that? If you get caught Brooke might get taken away from you."

Gulping, she hadn't thought of it like that. Twisting her fork in her hands she considered her options. It wasn't as if she was going to the Smithsonian just her and Brooke. Steve would be there. Steve wouldn't allow the option of them being caught. Not sure what to say, she looked at Steve, the question of her dilemma passed through her look.

"You know I wouldn't let that ever happen," Steve said softly.

"Where does Brooke want to go?" Alex announced to the table, "Do you want to go to a boring museum or a fun ice skating trip?"

"That's not fair-"

"Where we go'in?" Brooke bounced in her chair, "I wanna go ice skating."

"See."

"Alex. What the hell is wrong with you…" Bea snapped sharply, "You're not taking her out."

"If I go ice skating, do I see Bucka?"

"No, you'll only see that if we go to the boring museum as Alex calls it," Steve glared across the table. Feeling the heat rise, Bea looked around for something to change the subject too. Usually she tried coaxing Brooke to talk about something she did at Nursery but her eyes were wide with excitement at the prospect of getting to see Bucky and she didn't have it in her heart to change the subject.

"I wan' go musem," Brooke sighed happily, doing a little dance in her chair, "I want Bucka." She surveyed the room and Beatrice could already see she was looking for her Bucky bear.

"Did you leave it upstairs?" Bea asked when Brooke gave a defeated sigh.

"No, I bough' it downstair."

"Go look upstairs just in case."

"What's she looking for?" Steve asked.

"The bear Fifteen made her. Her 'Bucka Bear' as she calls it."

"Oh." Steve's shoulders relaxed and the tension in the room disappeared. Or she thought it had as she blocked Alex from her vision, but suddenly he leapt up and reached over for a napkin.

"Hang on Brooke-y," he dangled the napkin in her face before she could flee and get her painting that was pinned up on the fridge, "You've made a mess. Let me wipe that off for you."

"geroff," Brooke cringed away from the napkin wiping the orange mess around her lips, "clean later. Wanna find Bucka."

Somehow Brooke avoided Alex thrashing of a Napkin around her face and dived under the table to escape. Bea was sure if Brooke wanted too, she would find a way out of any situation. It was just a good thing she didn't want to flee home really as she'd probably never find her again. Hide and Seek was strictly banned in the house after Brooke decided to hide in the attic when there had been no ladder to get up there. To this day, Beatrice still had no idea how she got up there.

She rushed upstairs, but came back a moment later empty handed.

"He's not there mumma."

"Well, if you moved him, I don't know where you put him."

"But I definitely bought him down!" Brooke stomped her feet and Bea could feel a temper tantrum start. She got up immediately to help her find it.

"Has either of you seen her bear?"

"I didn't want to bring it up in front of Brooke," Alex nodded, "but yes, I did."

"Well, where have you put it?"

"I put it in the bin," He whispered lowly so only Steve and Bea could hear him.

"Excuse me?"

"It's not doing her any good to be surrounded by the memories of a ghost. You tell me the same with my daughter that got snapped. You always say that I can't keep clinging to old memories so I'm just doing what's best for her."

"She doesn't have any memories with her dad," Steve exclaimed, "That's the point of her knowing about him."

"She doesn't need too," Alex continued with a self-righteous attitude as he puffed his chest out. Bea had never heard such authority exit his mouth, nor had she ever wanted to punch him as much as she did now. Anger coursed through her veins as she escaped to the kitchen to dig through the trash, "Now that I'm in her life she doesn't have to worry about a dad that was never there. Beatrice – I've taken the trash out. It's gone."

"Why the fuck did you do that?"

"Mumma wot wrong?"

"That was her bear!"

"It's not healthy to keep pushing a dead person on her like that. There's no point confusing the child."

"Brooke go to your room," Bea snapped at her daughter without meaning too. The need for a cigarrete was overwhelming, and if she didn't escape soon she thought she'd faint, but first she needed to scream at Alex to make herself feel better.

Brooke stomped her foot, "Whyyyyy?"

"I said go to your room."

"No! I haven't done anyfing."

"Brooke, come here sweetheart," Steve reached for her hand, "Your mummy and Alex are just having grown up conversations. Come on, I'll take you up and you can show me that dance you and your friend made."

"No!" Alex fired, "I want to talk to you too."

"What about now?" Steve span, not realising Brooke had taken hold of his hand and almost swung her around, "You want me to not be a part of this family anymore? I'm telling you now, it's not gonna happen."

"You're confusing the poor girl," Alex let out, "Steve shouldn't be taking her to nursery each morning. That's something only a dad should do."

"She doesn't have a dad!"

"That's enough!" Bea gripped hold of Alex, "I'm not even going to wait until after Christmas. I want you gone. I don't know what you're problem is but she's my fucking daughter

The two men snapped their mouths shut. Alex went to say something again but with a quick glare from Bea who thought better. No one said anything, and for a moment Bea thought Alex would have the decency to fix whatever friendship remained between them and walk out.

Suddenly, Brooke exploded in tears.

Everyone rushed over to her but Beatrice was the fastest, taking her from Steve's grip and wrapping her arms around her.

"Shhh, it's okay."

"I-I-I-I just w-w-wan'ed Bucka," She screeched in her wails.

"I know, baby," Bea bounced her, turning her back on the boys, "so do I."

Brooke continued to wail. Wondering what the neighbours must be thinking as when Brooke decided to cry, it echoed through the whole house as if someone was being murdered. Rubbing her back, she soon chocked back and her cries eventually became muffled into Bea's T-shirt.

The boys shuffled awkwardly behind her until Steve cleared his throat, "I'll do the dishes."

She didn't bother not to tell him not to worry about it, knowing if Steve didn't do it now, it wouldn't be done for another week. Rubbing circles on Brooke's back, she gave a few hiccups before her cries mellowed completely.

Alex stepped forward, "I didn't mean-"

"Don't," She whipped around, "Just don't even bother…" she lowered her tone, "I'm sorry what happened with your daughter, but you can't replace her with mine."

With a loud bang from the kitchen, the three jumped. Beatrice quickly propped Brooke on the sofa. Kissing her and wiping any remaining tears and rushed to see what Steve had done, thinking he'd just broken a plate. It would just be another thing to add to the pile of crappiness tonight. She'd imagined the evening would have awkward tensions but never the explosion of anger she received.

Fighting to beat Alex to the kitchen, they knocked shoulders when they saw Steve staring tensely at her tea towel draw. Wondering what could possibly be in there to make him look so angry, Bea carefully approached.

"You gonna explain to me why the fuck you've got this in your house?" The harshness in his tone made Beatrice recoil backwards. He'd only ever spoken to her with such anger once before, when she'd been rejecting Brooke after she'd been born. Whatever he'd found in the draw didn't warrant such harshness, "I thought we both agreed no more guns."

"Wha… I don't have a…" Steve brought up a black handgun from the tea towel draw.

"You said you were better, Bea."

"I am!" She cried, "it's not mine."

"Then why-"

"it's mine," Alex stepped forward calmly, "I'm a big supporter in pro guns. I think every American house should have a hand gun in it for protection."

Steve slammed the draw shut but kept the gun in his hand, "Absolutely not. Bea can't be around them."

Beatrice's eyes followed the handgun. She was vaguely aware of Alex responding back to Steve with equal ferocity in his voice. Like a Paralyzing dart, she realised Alex had brought a gun into her house without telling her. It wasn't even hidden in secure place. The draw had no child lock on it. Brooke was always venturing into cupboard and draws to try and hide or get to the secret cookies Bea always hid. There was nothing that would have stopped her from opening the draw and firing it.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" She screamed, purple in the face. She was above anger now, she could practically feel the vein bursting on her forehead, "You didn't even tell me!"

"It was for protection. Honestly, it's not a big deal. I'll put it somewhere safer."

"Beatrice can't be around guns," Steve stamped on, his eyes wide as he was suddenly holding the gun out of reach when Alex snipped at him to take the gun back, "and Brooke could have gotten hold of it."

"I wouldn't have let that happen," Alex fumed, "Can I have my gun back?"

By this point Alex was attempting to push Steve away and grab it. They were equal in height but Alex couldn't match Steve's muscle weight, he looked like an overgrown child yelling at his parent when he didn't receive his own way. Alex shoved Steve in the shoulder, but Steve barely moved.

"I really wouldn't, son."

"Oh, fuck you, just give me my gun back."

Steve stepped back, not backing down, "If you want to keep a gun then you can get out of this house."

She couldn't agree more but the men were playing with the gun like it was a game of tug and war, "Both of you stop it. You're going to end up-"

Steve glared, "he doesn't seem to be getting the message, Bea, that he's not wanted."

"You think you're so much better than everyone else, eh?" said Alex, pushing against his chest with fight in his eyes. Bea eyes focused on the gun resting at Steve's hip and Alex's hand reaching to try and grab it. Paralysed, she stood in the doorway of the kitchen, half wanting to run forward and tackle Alex down, the other half wanting to turn and grab Brooke. But, this was her house. Why should she be the one to turn and flee?

"Alex, get off of me," Steve tried to reason, his nostrils flaring like a dragon about to burst flames. When Alex reached one more time for the gun, Steve reacted and drew his fist back. They tussled in each other's grip for a moment. Arms locked. If Steve wanted too, he could break Alex with one well aimed punch.

A loud bang shuddered through the air and Alex was thrown off. His back crushed against the fridge. A large dent cut through the metal where his body landed.

"Oh my god!" Bea cried.

"MAMMA!" Brooke wailed, closer than she expected. She'd left her on the couch then how come… Bea released her focus on the gun and turned to the sound. She'd heard the bang of the gun go off but didn't see where it had hit. Brooke was standing in the kitchen doorway, her face ghostly pale and dry tears lingered on her cheeks but she looked… she looked… okay…?

Scooping her up, Bea patted her down as if expecting to feel a bullet grazed into her.

"You're okay?" She heaved, not realising she'd been holding her breath, "Oh my god… you're okay. Baby!"

Clinging onto her for dear life, she saw behind her the splintered edge of the doorway where a thick round hole now stained the frame. It was only a few centimetres from where Bea had turned around to see Brooke standing. If… If Brooke had been standing just an inch to the left… she would… she would have been shot-

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" She bellowed, tears now blurring her own eyes, "BOTH OF YOU. OUT!"

"Bea… I'm sorry," She didn't hear which one was attempting at making an apology. She didn't want to hear. She wanted them both gone. They could have shot her. Nothing else mattered.

"It was his fault!"

"GO!" She picked Brooke up, hugging her so close she could feel her heart pumping against her, "and take the fucking gun with you. Just… Just go!"

She didn't bid them goodbye. With Brooke tucked tightly under her arm, she fled upstairs almost tripping as her knees knocked together. Reaching her bedroom, she slammed the door shut and retreated to the safety of her bed. Still one arm clutching Brooke. When she sat her on the bed, she stroked her hair whispering 'everything was going to be alright'. She heard the front door closing twice after each other.

"W-wot was dat noise?" Brooke shivered, "Went bang bang. Hurt my ears." Brooke shook her head and covered her ears with her hands.

"Are your ears okay, Sweetheart?"

"dink so. It ringing."

Should she take her to the hospital? That would look brilliant on her files. Finally, the government were beginning to slack on their constant watch on her and now she was going to have to bring her daughter into the hospital for being close to a gunshot.

How could they be so stupid? There was no denying the two loved Brooke. Their constant adoration of the toddler was enough proof. She reasoned that they had no idea what would happen, but… but it had still happened.

Steve would never have let a gun misfire. He was too skilled. It must have been Alex… Why was Alex even reaching for the gun?...Why didn't he tell her he'd brought a gun into the house?... She would have understood the need for protection. The urge to buy her own one was often overpowering in the recent years. Sometimes her mind would play tricks on her making her think she saw a Hydra agent outside when really it was just one of her neighbours. She'd think back to the handgun she used to have hidden in her bedside table and wish she had it again. She would have understood, if only he'd told her. They could have hidden it somewhere safer.

What was she going to do now?

Never slacking her grip on Brooke, the toddler eventually fell asleep.

The front door opened with a click. Beatrice jumped, not expecting the sound and her arms jutted, Brooke flinched in her sleep. Luckily her eyes remained shut and a second later she was back to snoring away peacefully.

Knowing it could only be one of the two men, she carefully untangling herself. She opened her bedroom door and found herself face to face with Alex.

"Beatrice, you've got to know how sorry I am," he said at once.

She closed the door shut behind her, "Alex I'd like you to leave now."

"But-"

"I know it was you that pulled the trigger," said Bea snidely, "Do you know how close that was to hitting her?"

"It wasn't me!" Alex leapt hastily, "I wouldn't do that."

"Steve is a trained military man, Alex, he would never have pulled that trigger. You on the other hand was reaching for the gun and truthfully, I've wanted you to leave for a while. I stupidly told myself you're attachment to Brooke was completely normal but it's not and it's scaring me. I want you to stay away from her, from now on."

This wasn't what Alex had wanted to hear, "So, it's all my fault, eh?"

"Can you give me your house key and get out. You can collect your stuff another day."

"Where am I meant to go?"

"I don't know," Bea cried, thinking of when Bucky had left her once before. He had stayed in abandoned buildings and not once complained about it, "just get out."

"I want to see Brooke."

"She doesn't want to see me."

He clambered up the stairs, "let her decide that."

"She's not your daughter, Alex."

Alex's nose scrunched up in distaste as Beatrice blocked his way upstairs.

A wild look took place in Alex's eye. Bea wasn't sure what to make of it, keeping herself in between her bedroom door and Alex. To him, however, this looked as if she was hiding something and he tried to push past her.

"Let me say goodbye at least!"

"You're not going near her," Beatrice stood her ground, even though she could feel her arms shaking beneath her. Like the whole floor was about to crumble, "and if you continue, I'm going to get the police involved. Or- or the Avengers."

"She's my daughter too!"

Gritting her teeth in an effort to remain silent. Her face purpled from supressed rage, and when Alex sent a sudden strike slapping across her face, she swung around and physically snapped like acid burning over the top.

"Did you just hit me?"

"I lost my daughter," Alex insisted, he'd managed to reach the doorknob like he had the trigger on the gun, "Brooke is all I've got now. Don't take her from me."

"I'm warning you, get the fuck out before I call the police!" before she calls Steve.

"You think I'm mad… I know you do… but she looks like her. My daughter. Brooke. She looks like her. I can have her back."

"You're insane! Go home."

"This is my home!"

The door belted open. Bea had been leaning up against it and her whole body flew backwards. She landed on the bed where Brooke jolted awake.

"Mamma!"

"Daddy's here!" Alex rushed to Brooke but Bea got there first and covered her whole body over her daughter's small form, "I'm coming to take you home. Mummy's gone crazy."

"Wot?" Brooke had no idea what was happening. Her eyes sped around the room, unfocused.

"Get away from her, Alex."

"She's my daughter," Alex whispered, repeating it like a prayer. She wasn't sure what had happened to him but in the darkened light, his eyes filled with enraged insanity. "You're my daughter, Brooke. Aren't you?"

With an outstretched arm he tried to loop under Brooke's stomach and haul her up but Brooke tumbled off the bed and stretched her legs out with a kick. Somehow the force of the 4-year-old sent Alex tumbling back. Surprised by the attack, Alex struggling to stand.

Bea flew at him. She kicked her knee into his elbow. A satisfying crack sound was made. Alex roared in pain. She grabbed him by the thin streaks of hair that was always gelled back and hauled him from her bedroom.

"Hide under the bed, Brooke!" Bea yelled over her shoulder as Alex's hands shakenly tried to get a grip on her but she jumped out of the way, "Don't ever touch my daughter again-" she punched him in the face. Blood dripped from his nose, "-I was trained by black widow-" She kneed him down the stairs. Like a ragged doll his body tumbled down, "-Hydra-" she raced down the stairs after him, "-The Winter Soldier-" wrenching the front door open. With one hand she chucked the mad man out "-and you think you can just walk in here and take her from me. Stay the bloody hell away from me!"

Locking the door from the inside, she skipped up the stairs. Her hands shakily dialling in a number into her phone.

"Steve! Steve!" bellowed Beatrice down the phone once she was back with Brooke, "C-c-can you come over. I-I-I need you."

Five minutes later, Steve was hammering at her door. She hurled it open, pulling Steve inside. She didn't offer him an explanation before she threw herself at him, hugging him so tightly she felt her ribs bursting.

"About earlier…" Steve was at a loss for words, hugging her back, "I had no idea. You know I'd take a bullet for that girl."

"Stop-" she urged. It wasn't his fault, "Alex. He's insane."

"What?"

They pulled apart and his eyes transfixed on the purple bruise bulging from her eye. She hadn't had time to look in the mirror, but Brooke had wailed when she first saw Bea after she'd rushed back upstairs so she could only guess at how bad she looked.

"Did- did he do this?" Steve's nostril's flared.

"Believe me, you should see what I did to his face."

"Where is he now?" He was turning to leave but Beatrice wouldn't let him, her finger closed tightly around his arm. Right now, she needed him here. The adrenaline from the fight slowly seeped from her fingers. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably and if Steve left now on a wild chase to find the mad man, she wasn't sure how she would cope. "Is Brooke alright? Where is she?"

"Here," came the unusually quiet toddler, shuffling forward like a penguin only to be engulfed by Steve's enormous form.

"Are you alright, baby girl?"

"'dink so," she nodded, "Mummy saved me. She hit 'im and kicked 'im. I fort he was gonna take me."

"No one would ever let that happen whilst me and your mummy are here, you got that?"

"Will Alie be comin back?" She squeaked.

Beatrice shook her head, "Definitely not. You won't ever see him again."

With those words, confidence filled Brooke up as she abandoned clinging onto Brooke's leg and went into the living room on her own. It was a struggle just letting her leave her sight.

"I should go to the police station and file a report," Brooke decided. The least she could get was a restraining order, "Can you watch Brooke?"

Steve gripped her arm, "Wait. Just wait – if you go to the station now, it really won't look good on you. I only just cleared your name."

"So what? I should just let him walk free?"

"No," said Steve, "I'll call Natasha and have her find him. She'll be a lot more effective than the police anyway."

Bea could breath a little easier knowing Natasha was on the case.

"Come on, let's just relax now. It's Christmas. He's not coming back and if he does, I'll deal with it."

"What happened to following the rules?" Bea considered Steve's sudden change of tune, "first you want me to go to Washington with you for Brooke's birthday and now you're telling me not to go to the police."

"I know. I'm revaluating what's right and what's not," he sighed, "I shouldn't have yelled at you before and said what I did. You were only helping Fifteen and I can't blame you for that. You're a good friend – a better one than me."

"I wouldn't say that," goodness knows where she'd be without Steve's friendship over the past four years, "I never did thank you for getting me out of trouble again. Maybe I rely on you too much."

"That's what I'm here for."

"Mumma!" Brooke called from the living room, "It's still Christmas can we do something…"

Before she vacated the hallway and joined Brooke in the living room, she slid the rusty locks across the door for extra protection.

"Brooke, I found something of yours," Steve hid a lumpy carrier bag behind his bag. A strong stench of garbage carried with it.

"Is it another present?" Brooke eagerly crunched her fingers trying to grab it but turned her nose up when she caught a whiff, "smell bad."

Quickly, Steve unveiled the bag and revealed underneath her Bucky Bear. Its arm was dangling half off and one of its black buttoned eyes lost, but it was still the same bear Brooke slept with every night. Letting out a wail of delight, Brooke ran up but Steve held it out of her reach.

"Hang on, it's been in the trash outside. Who knows what it's touched."

"I don't care," Brooke bubbled out a giggle, "I want Bucka Bear!"

"Let me wash it first Brook-ey and it'll be good as new," Bea offered, mouthing a thank you to Steve's direction.

It was the best present Brooke could ask for.

A/N have i edited this chapter? No I have not. lol

I just wanted to get this uploaded by tommorrow so I can relax for the rest of the evening. But i'll edit it come boxing day.

I wish everyone the most happiest of Christmas!