Taking stock of the guests in your backyard would have given any sane person a headache. Two superhumans, one who had been frozen for over 70 years and another with a metal arm and PTSD, a man who wore mechanical wings regularly, a highly-trained assassin with auburn hair and a sharp tongue, and a Norse god. You just hoped you'd had enough lemonade and cookies made up.

The whole group had shown up at your place like an unexpected party, and you'd glowered at Sam for a while for not calling ahead. It was putting a cramp in your quiet corner of the world to have so many people, let alone super people, traipsing about the place like it was a public venue. But you supposed you couldn't be too mad, because they were there under the auspice of friendship. Of helping. And despite whatever snide remark or sneering look you gave to people, you were all about helping.

Bucky and Thor sparred in the grass, the sound of metal clanging sporadically as arm met armor. It had been fortuitous that the God of Thunder had come along, though maybe Steve really did know his friend all too well, because Barnes silently refused to fight with his long lost compatriot, even in a friendly match in an isolated backyard. You went to those two first, Thor offering you a broad smile as he pushed Bucky away and pointed out your approach. Both stood, chests heaving from exertion, faces smeared with sweat and dirt.

"Thought you boys could use a breather," you said, setting your tray on the grass and handing each an empty cup. "Brought you something to drink."

"Thank you," Thor beamed as you poured watching the liquid sloshing with a bit of curiosity.

Bucky took half a glance at your right cheek and looked away with a nod. The scar there was only a few days old, still a little gnarly, but nothing much to write home about. Still, he'd taken a step back in progress, as far interacting with you was concerned.

"This is very good," Thor suddenly boomed, examining his empty cup. "What is it?"

"I take it you don't have lemonade where you're from," you asked with a laugh.

He shook his head. "May I have some more?"

"Sure," you smiled, pouring another before turning to Bucky who had finished his. "How about you?"

"No, thank you," was his terse response. He held the cup out to you stiffly, and you made the conscious decision to brush your fingers over his as you took it from him, a gesture meant to ground him, soothe his nerves. Instead, his eyes flew to yours a split second before a long cracked etched its way up the glass under the pressure of his hand.

"Barnes," Thor asked in a cautious tone. "Do you wish to continue sparring?"

You could hear the relief in Bucky's voice when he answered. "Yes."

Without a second look, you picked up your tray to head to the patio table where the rest of your guests sat. You disgarded the broken glass in the can beside the patio door on your way so there would be no questions about it. Sam, Nat, and Steve all looked up when you stepped to the table, obviously not too engrossed in their conversation. And Nat was the first one to grab a cookie as you poured the drinks.

"Steve, can I ask you something," you said when you put his glass in front of him.

He nodded, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. "Yes, ma'am."

"What was Bucky's favorite food?"