CHAPTER ELEVEN

"So, there we were," said Jenny with a fond smile, lifting her wine glass for a dainty sip before continuing, "a pile of bicycles and limbs, bruised and scraped up, atop Constable Noakes! We received a strong reprimand from Sister Julienne, but Chummy smoothed it over with a bottle of whiskey. The nuns were appalled, but it all worked out. Chummy ended up marrying the constable before the year was out!"

Light laughter filled the air, everyone raising their glasses to a heartwarming end to Jenny's tale of time in Poplar as a midwife. It was one of her most cherished memories, teaching the overly tall Chummy to ride a bicycle. So much of her time with the midwives and Sisters of Nonnatus House were remembered with precious fondness, tinged with sadness knowing they were all gone. It made her resent HYDRA even more, realizing she had missed so much.

She would never know if Trixie had found a great love, gotten married and had children. She would never know if Cynthia had decided on taking her vows to be a nun, just as Jenny had months before her abduction. She would never know if Chummy and Peter had more children, or what their lives had been like. She had missed out on letters and pictures of little Freddie. She had been denied the opportunity to sit with Sister Monica Joan, or Sister Evangelina, or Sister Julienne, as they passed. She would never know if Shelagh had managed to become a mother.

"Jenny Bean? Are you okay?" asked Vanessa, leaning over her half empty plate to look at her friend down the table. "You look like you're about to cry."

Sniffing, Jenny blinked away the tears and shook her head, forcing a tight smile, "I'm fine. I just remembered… It's nothing. Let me grab these plates and we can dig in to some trifle."

Setting down her wine glass, the brunette omega rose and began collecting the finished plates and silverware, only to find that Steve had stood, as well, to help her with a shy smile and a blush creeping up his neck. They worked in tandem, clearing the table and scraping plates, stacking everything next to the sink. He even pulled out the large trifle dish from the icebox, while Jenny started pulling out dessert china and clean spoons.

"Thank you," said Jenny, quietly, as she finished pulling down the last few plates, "for helping. You don't have to -"

"I wanted to," Steve said, cutting her off with another shy look. "You cooked all this food, it's the least I can do."

"I assume you'll be shoving me out of the way to wash dishes next," Jenny joked, the pink in her cheeks matching the blush in his neck. He laughed, low and quiet, like a deep chuckle, but she could tell that she had hit the nail on the head with him. "There's no need. Jack usually cleans up after dinner, but he knows how fond I am of the china. I found it in a thrifty shop near the university campus a few months ago. Reminded me of my mother's prized dishes. The little painted violets around the sides, and all."

Steve seemed to understand the underlying sentimentality, clinging to whatever small piece of nostalgia one could from a time that slipped past in the blink of an eye. He also grinned boyishly as he recognized she had caught him out within seconds, "Well, I wouldn't shove you out of the way, but I will insist on helping, if it makes you less inclined to reject the offer."

"You're too kind, Steve," she said fondly, lifting the stack of plates in one hand and clutching the bundle of spoons in the other. "I will simply have to admit defeat."

Steve barked out a laugh, his smile a genuine marvel to behold, especially when he lifted a hand in mock salute, following her out to the dining table.

New glasses for dessert wine were delegated, as well as clean cups for requested drinks. Pepper helped herself in the kitchen to fix Tony a scotch on the rocks, while Jenny pulled out two fizzy drink cans from the back of the icebox. Everyone else was at the table passing around the bottles of sweet moscato, while Steve scooped large dollops of the English trifle onto plates.

Dessert brought on more conversation and laughter, and soon the time was nearing midnight, much to Jenny's surprise.

Vanessa and Wade were the first to depart, after Wade had made a rather unfiltered comment about his mate fucking him for the night.

Jenny and Steve had both instantly chided in unison, "Language!"

All discussion had ceased immediately, as everyone turned their focus on the alpha and omega, who were staring at each other in surprise.

Bucky was the first to erupt in laughter, then Darcy and Tony. Soon Pepper and the rest of Jenny's guests, before Steve succumbed, covering his face. Trying to hide her smile, Jenny covered her mouth with a gentle hand, fighting to not snort in an undignified manner as giggles bubbled up and escaped her chest.

Steve groaned, "I'll never live this down."

"Neither will I!" giggled Jenny, beaming at him.

"I see what you mean, Barnes," Tony said, pointing between Jenny and Steve. "Perfect match."

It didn't escape Jenny's notice - or Steve's, from the look of it - that several people around the table were exchanging folded twenty-dollar bills. Bucky and Darcy were the ones receiving the money, and it stung, if only a little, to know that at some point bets had been placed. The comment Tony had made had caused Jenny's cheeks to burn bright red and avoided Steve's eyes to down the rest of her dessert wine, filling it back up.

That moment was a prime example proving to Jenny it was an abomination that she could not get drunk off an ordinary amount of alcohol. She could see Steve eyeing her wine glass with a cocked eyebrow, but she ignored it, trying to find the humor in everyone's good natured gambling. She would have to settle being simply amused, unable to reach a semblance of tipsy before the remainder of guests started departing.

After awhile, Jenny was pressing chaste kiss to Pepper and Tony's flushed cheeks, sending them on their way up to the penthouse, promising she would be at the holiday party on Christmas Eve. Jack pressed a peck to the crown of Jenny's head, mumbling something about Captain America already elbows deep in dishes, before he stumbled off to his room.

Looking around, Jenny noticed Darcy had passed out on the settee, curled up against Bucky's chest as the super soldier kicked off his boots and wrapped an arm around his mate's shoulders. His hand ran up and down her arm, almost absentmindedly, but no less lovingly. He was watching what had been left running on the telly, The Great British Baking Show, which Jenny had put on for background noise as the dinner party began winding down.

"It's similar, but never the same," said Jenny, entering the kitchen space and pulled out a large dish cloth. When Steve glanced over his shoulder, she offered him a nervous smile, "No matter how many inventions there are to make life easier, it never trumps doing things by hand."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed, glancing down as she started drying dishes at his side. "I still can't get used to how much everything has changed."

"It used to be simple," Jenny replied, carrying on with drying her prized bone china. "When I first attempted to use the dishwasher, it overflowed with soap. Seemed like far too much trouble than it was worth."

"And now?"

Jenny huffed a laugh, smirking knowingly up at the tall captain, "Still too much trouble than it's worth. Washing by hand works just fine, no need to change it."

They settled into a comfortable silence, while Steve continued to scrub plates and silverware, as well as the remaining pots and pans Jenny had left to soak as everyone ate. She contented herself with drying the dishes and putting them away as they worked. Every so often, their arms or elbows would knock together, and they would blush in unison before continuing with the chore of cleaning up. He even grabbed a flannel and helped her wipe down the counters and stove, hanging up cooking utensils that Jenny could have easily put on their hooks, but she did enjoy the view from behind, and allowed him small victories.

"Can I ask you something?" Steve asked, leaning against a counter and watching as she busied herself making a small pot of tea. He waited until she nodded before continuing, "What made you decide on nursing?"

"Well," started Jenny, setting a tray with four tea cups and two small dishes of sugar and cream, before tugging a knitted cozy over the teapot. "I suppose it was taking care of those less fortunate, bringing life into the world. I couldn't fathom a sedentary life tittering about garden parties and smiling on the arm of whichever man I was told to marry, being one of the ladies who lunch. It seemed like a very boring life."

"You wanted an adventure," he offered, grabbing the kettle as it began to whistle. "Of course, I'm sure your life wasn't too bad. It sounds like you had a comfortable childhood."

"Yes, I did," replied the petite brunette, still fighting with the teapot cozy. It must have shrunk in the wash. "Despite my Grandmother's imposition, my mother had this uncanny ability to bring a bit of ease and joy to every little moment, no matter how small or inconsequential. I suppose it runs in the family. Bucky has that way about him, as well."

"Bucky mentioned you two were related," said Steve, brows slightly pinched. "Becky was sweet, always looking out for us. Bucky took it hard when she left to get married."

"Bucky and you have always been close, right?" posed Jenny, searching for her tea tin. "It shouldn't be a stretch that Mummy's departure left a mark on you, as well. I imagine your families were very closely knit together."

"Yeah, we were all like one big family."

Jenny smiled, spooning tea into a mesh metal ball on a chain, "Your family is what you make it. I wasn't very close to my father, but I was close to my mother, and my grandmother, in a sense. When I started as a midwife, the Sisters of Nonnatus, Chummy, Cynthia, and Trixie - they became my family. We were all so close."

"Is that what had you down earlier?" asked Steve, taking the kettle back to the stove. "You were talking about Chummy, and then you looked a little sad. I don't mean to pry -"

"No, it's fine," she replied, steeping the tea. "You're right. I suddenly realized that I missed out on their lives. They must have been so worried."

"If it's any consolation, I think they would have kept you in their thoughts," he offered, and she could see that he understood the feeling of loss that slipped through, at times. "I can't imagine they simply stopped looking for you."

"I believe you're right, again," she said, huffing when Steve took the tray before she could grab it. "It's still saddening, not knowing. When I was taken, Cynthia was contemplating taking the habit, as well. I had taken my vows due to circumstance, but Cynthia was conflicted. I was the only person she felt she could speak to about her decision, besides Sister Julienne."

"You were a nun?" asked Steve, tray wobbling in his grip as they rounded one of the large sofas. "No one told me you used to be a nun."

Giggling, Jenny moved Christmas decorations around on the coffee table to make room for the serving tray, "I assume it's due to the fact that I'm no longer a nun. I also didn't really choose the religious life out of devotion. I did it to save my family from a rather unpleasant scandal."

"Scandal?"

"Personal," she answered, offering a small, tight lipped smile. "When I left home to train as a nurse, I… Well, you'll think very poorly of me to know. I ran away from the situation I put myself in, and years later, when it came out, Grandmother gave me two options; marry a man of her choosing, as quickly as possible, or enter the religious life. I refused to give up midwifery and general care, so I became a nun to avoid the scandal, protect my family's name."

"I wouldn't think less of you," Steve said rather quickly, blushing at the admission. "Sorry, but it's the truth. I wouldn't think badly of you. I've probably done worse."

Jenny smirked, fixing four cups of tea, while Steve perched on the loveseat next to her, forearms resting on his thighs and a goofy sort of smile etched across his handsome features.

"Very well," quipped Jenny, setting down the teapot and handing Steve's cup over for him to fix it to his liking. "I became involved with a married man when I was seventeen, left him a few years later, and became a nun when his wife discovered the affair after it had already ended. It was a mess. Joining the Sisterhood helped to alleviate some of the scandal by the time society found out."

Steve blew out a long breath, ending in a weak whistle, "We can't help who we fall in love with."

"Too true… Being a nun wasn't so bad. The rules were rather strict, but I was allowed to continue with nursing."

"A worthy sacrifice."

"A necessary sacrifice," added Jenny, tea dressed up and ready for sipping. She blew against the steam rising from the surface, noticing Steve's pupils dilate at the way her red lips pursed together to blow gently. "It's in the past now. Mr. Hogan and I attend mass every Sunday morning, but other than that, I don't abide by church doctrine as much as I used to."

"Sin and ask forgiveness?"

Jenny laughed, nodding, "Sin and ask forgiveness."

"The Catholic way," Steve chuckled, clinking his teacup against hers. "Must have been a shock to wake up in the future. I had a lot of difficulties wrapping my head around it."

Jenny took a deep breath, thinking back on the moment she realized she was no longer in the transitionary period to the 1960s. It had terrifying. She thought she'd gone mad. Thank goodness for Tony Stark saving her when he had.

"It was confusing," she replied, gently and tactfully. Then she choked on a nervous laugh, "Actually, it was terrifying. I was buried underneath the… Triskelion. I'm uncertain how I even managed to dig my way up as far as I did. Then I was surrounded by people. People poking and prodding me. People asking questions that I couldn't answer. Thank goodness for Tony, or else I would have ended up on an operating table again...Just, thank God that Tony intervened when he did."

"I'm sorry," Steve said quickly, brows pinched with concern. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

She shook her head, forcing a smile, "It's all rather grotesque to think about. I do partake in therapy, but it's something I'm still uncomfortable discussing. What Hydra did to me…" She cleared her throat, looking down at her teacup and saucer perched delicately in her lap. "Living in the past is not how you thrive in the future."

"I'm sorry for what they did to you," offered Steve sympathetically. "I'm just...I'm sorry."

He hesitated when she lifted her gaze from her lap, she could see his confliction, but apparently being kind trumped boundaries. She sniffled, leaning into his touch when a large hand cupped her cheek, thumb wiping away a long tear rolling down her face. She huffed a laugh, giving him a watery smile, while her dainty fingers caressed the back of his hand against her face, "You're not at fault. No one but Hydra is at fault. I may mourn what I missed, but I am happy here, now. I lost one family, I found a new one. If not for such horrible circumstances, I wouldn't be sitting here with you."

Steve Rogers was too handsome for his own good. She could not understand why she was admitting such things to him, but his shy smile and warm eyes, the way they crinkled at the corner - it all had her melting. Jenny was wondering if maybe she had drank too much, but that couldn't be right. She only had four glasses, and that was hardly enough to feel a buzzing in her veins. Perhaps it was his scent? He had a wonderful scent - freshly mowed grass on a sunny afternoon, woods and seaspray in the summer. Just summer. Everything wonderful about the warm holidays during her childhood that he seemed to emulate. Or it could be his eyes? They were like paintings of the Caribbean sea, and so clear, sparkling.

Maybe it was because he was so genuine?

"I'd really like to get to know you, Jenny," he breathed, and even his teeth were perfect. "If you'd be interested?"

Jenny nodded, grinning madly up at him. He towered over her, even sitting on a loveseat, "I would enjoy that very much, Steve."

She wanted to kiss him, then. She wanted to know what his lips would feel like against her own, but instead she sniffed and blushed, pulling away from his touch demurely in favor of sipping her tea. It was a way to hide her nerves, but he seemed to be feeling slightly uncomfortable as well, having such a conversation with Bucky and Darcy dozing on the settee across from them. It was all very intimate, and she suspected that Steve Rogers was not a modern era man with moves and lines and over-stepping boundaries. He was a proper American gentleman. He still held onto the traditional values. It was very appealing.

"I guess I should get those two back to their room," offered Steve, after a long silence. "It is getting late."

"Oh, I would hate to wake them up," whispered Jenny, watching the mated couple sleep peacefully. "I have plenty of spare blankets and pillows."

"You've got a warm heart, Jenny," murmured Steve, gathering up the tea tray.

"I could say the same about you, Steve Rogers," she countered with a cheeky grin, following him into the kitchen. "Or should I say, Captain?"

"Oh, sheesh."

"I believe you've done enough chores around here," she said, placing a hand atop his when it reached to start the tap. "I'll wash them in the morning. I'll make sure to arrange another dinner party for you to bury yourself in dishes."

"You got me marked," he laughed, conceding by leaving the tray on the counter by the sink. "I'll admit defeat this time, ma'am. Next time I won't concede so easily."

"I would never assume," she attempted to flirt, walking with him to the door. "I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight? The food was to your liking?"

He nodded, bright smile exuding happiness, "I had a wonderful time, thank you. And the food was delicious. I haven't had a true home cooked meal in a long time."

"I'm glad I could offer that comfort," obliged Jenny, unaware of when her hands had slipped into the warmth of his, but she was enjoying the gentle touch, the way his thumbs rubbed soft circles over the delicate bones of her knuckles. It set her heart fluttering and had her head in a tizzy. "Will I see you at the Christmas Eve party tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, the whole team will be there, so prepare yourself," he blushed, hard to see underneath the well-groomed beard. He looked so dashing with it. "Would I be overstepping if I were to ask if you'd be my plus-one?"

"I see no reason why we couldn't arrive together. It could be a prelude before you ask me on a date," she prompted, smirking playfully. "Dinner and dancing after the New Year."

"I'll pick you up by eight?"

"I believe that would be agreeable."

Steve grinned, bowing to press a chaste kiss to the back of her dainty hand, "I'll see you then."

And he was gone with a nervous, breathy laugh, and Jenny was caught in the cross breeze of his scent. It was tinged with arousal and something else she couldn't identify, but it had quite the dizzying effect. It caused warmth to run through her limbs, from the tips of her toes to the crown of her hair, and she stumbled to her bedroom in as dignified a manner as possible. With her door closed, Jenny rested her back against the hardwood and slid to the floor, fingers pressed to her nose to taste the lingering scent of Steve Rogers that was left. Her heart was beating a tattoo against her chest, and she felt the loss of his presence acutely, her reality thrown askew.

It took several long minutes to gain control of herself, and then Jenny emerged from her bedroom with a stack of blankets and began draping them over Bucky and Darcy still sleeping on the settee. She fluffled the throw pillows and arranged them for maximum comfort, and wedged the plumpest ones under their respective heads. She worked silently, gently, and walked away amazed that neither of them had woken up from her slight touches.

Before Jenny retreated to her bedroom for the night, she took one last look at the mated couple fast asleep, curled up against each other, and she experienced a rather sharp pang in her chest, a longing of having that one day. Then the spread of heat throughout her entire being wondering if she would have it with Steve…