A/N: Spoiler alert for Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Avengers: Age of Ultron, and Captain America: Civil War.

As always, many thanks go out to CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur for the Beta and Winter-Soldier-88 for the brainstorming.

Note 1: I know it's been a while since this story was updated, but it couldn't be helped. Not only is my muse a fickle little scamp, my family has been experiencing a great deal of emotional turmoil that may not get better any time soon. Such is RL.

Note 2: This story is being revamped. Some scenes will be removed completely. Others will be changed to better conform to the MCU movies. Also, parts 2 and 3 will be eliminated and the chapters posted all under one title.

Namaste,

Sunny

"I will come back to you, I swear I will;
And you will know me still.
I shall be only a little taller
Than when I went."

― Edna St. Vincent Millay, The Harp-Weaver and Other Poems

Winter Soldier

And You Will Know Me Still

Chapter 26

Stark Plaza

Standing across from Bruce, Helen stifled a yawn and tried to concentrate on her work. She and Bruce had been building the retrovirus for Agent Barton's friend for over thirty-six hours without stopping, and she'd been up for almost twelve by that point. Bruce, on the other hand, always gave the impression that he could go on forever. A side effect of the Gamma radiation? There was no way to know.

Working with Bruce was always an exciting challenge. And working in the SI lab meant there was always a chance that the other Avengers would show up unexpectedly. One such time, Thor had arrived while she was consulting with Bruce and Mr. Stark on a project. During a break, the Asgardian engaged her in conversation, charming her with his old world manners and formal way of speaking. The one turn-off was the deep affection he had for Jane Foster. He was quite obviously in love with her and not one to engage in dalliances. That didn't mean Helen couldn't talk to him, which she did at every opportunity.

"There. That's got it." Bruce's voice snapped her out of a minor fantasy about Thor, dropping her back into reality.

"Let's see." Part of the display changed to a computer modeling program that could run on its own. "Looks good. We should both get some rest while it's running."

Bruce shed his lab coast, removed his glasses and stretched. "There's a spare room if you'd like to bunk here. I could lend you something to sleep in."

He offer was so kind, Helen nodded and smiled. "Thanks, Bruce."

She followed him to the lifts and out on what Jarvis called the residential level. They stopped in front of a door that looked like all the others. "Jarvis, Dr. Cho is staying in one of the the guest rooms for the night."

"Very well, Dr. Banner. I'll do everything possible to make her comfortable."

Bruce spread his hands out to the side. "There you go. All the comforts of home. I'll go get you something to sleep in."

The door opened and Helen stepped inside, her eyes scanning from left to right, taking in the opulent furnishings of a room that was easily twice the size of her apartment. "Home doesn't look like this."

"Pardon, Miss?"

"Nothing." There was a knock at the door, Bruce with a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, both too big for her. Helen laid the clothing on the foot of the king sized bed and undressed on her way to the bathroom. Opening drawers and cabinets, she found everything necessary to make her stay restful.

After her shower, Helen dressed for bed, combed her hair, chose a book from one of the shelves in the sitting area, and curled up in a chair to read. Soon, her eyes grew heavy. She closed the book and climbed into bed. "Jarvis, wake me in six hours. Sooner if the computer modeling comes up with a solution."

"Of course, Miss. Pleasant dreams."

The Helicarrier

Maria's reflection in the mirror scowled back as she washed her hands without even a twinge of pain. Strange because it had hurt so badly the past few days. She peeled the tape free, unwound the gauze and dropped it on the counter. Turning her palm down, she examined the back. The red and swollen lump had disappeared, and in its place was a thin red line surrounded by the light pink of regenerated flesh. She wondered how her wound could heal so quickly. Then she remembered what Steve said.

Thank God it worked.

"Steve!" The bathroom door immediately swung open, and Steve was standing anxiously waiting for her to finish. Outraged that he'd let the doctors experiment on her without consent, she held up her now healed hand. "What the hell did you do to me?"

She swayed, her anger, time in bed and lack of real food making her lightheaded. Steve caught her in his arms and carried her to the bed, pulling the sheet and blanket up to her waist. "You were dying, Maria. I couldn't let that happen." He looked away from the accusation in her eyes and exhaled loudly. "I'll get the doctor."

He turned away, and she caught his hand. "Steve?"

Though he was reluctant to answer, he agreed. "You were given a transfusion of my blood in hopes that its rapid cell regeneration would be transferred to you. Temporarily at least." He shrugged, a small smile turning up his mouth. "Looks like it worked. I'll get Dr. Nomura."

This time, Maria let Steve go, if only to give her the time she needed to process what he told her, latching onto the most cryptic aspect of his explanation. You were dying, Maria. I couldn't let that happen.

The doctor came in with a nurse in tow before she could complete her deliberation. "How are you feeling, Commander Hill?"

With Steve's last words ringing in her head and wondering what they might mean, Maria told him, "Unbelievable, doctor. In more ways than one."

Nomura gave her a quick yet thorough examination then studied her injury, poking the area around it. "That hurt at all?"

"No. Nothing." Maria tossed the covers aside and got to her feet. "I'm good to go. Where are my clothes?"

"Get dressed, but don't leave yet, Commander. We have to run tests, do lab work. Thanks to Captain Rogers, your recovery is unprecedented. If there were a way to harness the rapid regeneration process…"

"Then make it quick. I've got places to be." She cocked her head to the side. "Tell Captain Rogers to stop pacing and bring me a cup of coffee."

Nomura looked confused as he opened the door. Steve was indeed pacing near the med bay entrance and not visible from her position in the room. The doctor looked back at her with an unreadable expression.

~~O~~

Steve wanted to listen in on the conversation between Maria and Nomura, but ethics prevented it. Then, the doctor came out, standing in the doorway of her room, looking from Maria to him and back. "You heard that?"

"You didn't?"

The doctor didn't respond. Instead, he turned to the nurse. "Have the blood work run stat, including DNA." Nomura spoke over his shoulder, "Commander Hill, please get dressed and join us in the ward. I'd like to run a few practical tests, if you don't mind."

Maria and Steve shared a confused glance over the doctor's shoulder. Steve shrugged and she returned it, then shut the door to change. He wanted to wait for her, but the doctor was pulling him along. "I want to test a theory."

"What kind of theory?" Nomura kept walking with Steve crossing his arms and planting his feet.

As if he thought Steve could read his mind, Nomura shook a finger and said, "Exactly."

~~O~~

Maria got dressed and came into the ward to find Nomura standing near the entrance and Steve pacing in a circle just outside the door. "We're ready to begin, Captain Rogers."

Steve came to stand just a few feet from her, the stiffness in his stance telling her he was annoyed with Nomura, and that his patience wasn't infinite.

"Commander Hill, face that wall, please." She did as he asked, her annoyance growing with each moment. He walked to the middle of the room and stopped. "Captain Rogers, I need you to stand behind her and talk, say anything. Just don't stop until I tell you to. And use your normal speaking voice, please."

Nomura touched her on the shoulder. "Respond to him and don't worry about me. I'll be taking notes."

"As long as you understand that we're humoring you for no reason."

Waving vaguely, Nomura murmured, "Fine, fine. Whatever you have to tell yourself as long as we get this done. Captain?"

Over the next few minutes, Steve asked several innocuous questions such as how long had they been renting the brownstone, the name of the motel they stayed in where Barton joined them, the name of the realtor who rented them the property, and so forth. "What names did Barton give to the statues on the roof?"

Steve's mocking tone made Maria want to laugh, but she kept it to just a slight upturn on one side. "Titania, Percival, Tobias, Lucius, Balthazar, Iago, Homer, and Jezebel. Balthazar is Barton's personal confidant. For myself, I find Jezebel give better advice."

Nomura's voice interrupted, "Excuse me?"

A huff came from Steve, aimed at the doctor. "Nothing. Can we please finish?"

"Commander Hill?"

"Keep going, Steve."

She heard him shift his feet and stop. "Where did we go on our date?"

Her grin turned into a smirk, "The Old Haunt in Manhattan. We had dinner, danced, and on the way back to the brownstone, we found what we thought was the perfect place to make out without getting caught."

He laughed, and underneath, she felt his embarrassment that she'd brought up their faux pas in front of a stranger.

"That's enough. Turn around."

Maria spun on her heel, slack jawed at seeing Steve outside the ward and down the hall a few feet. "What's going on?"

Nomura motioned for Steve to join them. "It appears that in addition to Captain Rogers's rapid cell regeneration, you've also inherited, so to speak, his enhanced senses. We've only tested hearing. However, I see it as indicative of increased sensitivity all across the board."

He started to walk away, stopping when Maria called out to him, "Wait! Is it permanent?"

"I should think not. Anywhere from seven days to a month is average. Though there are documented cases where the donor's DNA was still present in the recipient eighteen months later." With a distracted wave, Nomura walked away, his eyes glued to his tablet and mumbling under his breath.

"Eighteen…" Maria started.

"…months?!" Steve finished for her, his eyes wider than hers, but the doctor had gone.

"Eighteen months." Frustrated, Maria looked around and saw that they were alone in the ward. "Thanks for saving my life."

Steve's half-smile was back again. "I guess that makes us even then." His hands came up to lightly grip her biceps, rubbing down to her elbows and up again, his expression morphing into what looked like affection. "Maria, I…"

"If you say a word about my hair or the fact that I haven't showered in three days, I'll hurt you."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead then leaned back to look her in the eyes. "I was going to say I'm glad you're alright."

Because she wanted it and didn't care who saw them, Maria framed his face with her palms and pulled him close. "Shut up, Rogers."

Maria didn't give him even a fraction of a second to think it over. Tiptoeing, she closed the gap and kissed him, letting her lips tell him how she felt, knowing she might never be able to say the words. And because they were in public, sort of, this was also her way of letting the world know that she and Steve were together. She hoped Steve appreciated how hard it was for her to make that admission.

Brooklyn

Steve tossed his bag into the den and shut the door. Maria dropped her bag on the chair by the stairs, and together they went into the living room where Sam and Santino were playing a video game. They shut it down to give Steve their full attention.

"Where's Kiba?"

The guys laughed, Sam shaking his head. "Gone out. Didn't say where."

"Barton?"

Sam shrugged. "Took the SUV. No call, no show."

Steve pulled out his phone, but Maria beat him to it. She nodded to herself, adding an eye roll at Barton's voicemail message. "This is Hill. Call me ASAP." To the room, she said, "It's a little early to send up a flare. We'll give him a day and figure out where to go from there."

There was something in Maria's tone, concern for her friend and colleague, yet it wasn't. Almost as if she was putting on a show for their sakes. He'd corner her later and get an explanation. Not that he expected her to answer truthfully. That's just how it was in their business, and he accepted that she wouldn't always be able to tell him the truth. Another explanation could be that Barton had taken Maria into his confidence and she wouldn't break that. "Now that our group's shrunk down to four, five if you count Barton…"

"And why wouldn't you?" The archer's voice came from behind them followed by the thump of his backpack on the kitchen floor. "What's goin' on?"

Barton moved around in front of Steve, taking a seat at one of the computers, his feet propped on the corner. Sam and Santino returned to the sofa.

Steve crossed his arms. "Bucky's with Romanoff. I don't know what her plan is or where they've gone. She promised to keep in touch. For the time being, I'm trusting her to know what she's doing. If anyone wants to opt out, feel free to leave."

The men didn't consult, letting Barton speak for them. "We'll hang around a while. FYI - Dooney's in the hospital. Should be out in a couple of days."

"What happened?" Steve wanted to know. The others too, to go by their increased interest.

Barton's feet hit the floor and he got up to pace over to the fireplace, leaning on it with one hand while the other rubbed the back of his neck. "He has leukemia. A rare and aggressive form. His life expectancy at this point is short. Months at the most. I've something in the works. Just waiting to hear back."

Steve nodded while covering a yawn, and headed for the den. "Who's making dinner tonight? Please say it's not me."

Waving his arm to include Santino and Sam, Barton finally smiled. "You and Hill relax. We'll take care of it."

A snort came from Maria. "Twist my arm, Barton." She covered a yawn. "I need a shower and some shut eye. Food can wait."

"Just don't burn the house down with us in it." With that parting remark, Steve shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief. He knew she wanted to discuss using his blood to cure her, but they hadn't been alone in the quinjet on the ride back to New York. Though they sat side by side for the entire time, neither had made even the attempt to start a conversation not of business nature. It was for the best, he supposed.

Shaking his head, he toed off his shoes while unbuttoning his shirt. Next to go was the pants, tossed in the seat of the desk chair with the rest of his dirty clothes. With the warmer weather, pajamas were unnecessary. He spread the blanket on the rug, dropped a pillow at one end and lay down on his back. Looking up at the ceiling, hands folded over his stomach, the thumbs twirling, first one way then in the opposite direction, he inhaled, exhaled, then turned on his side and closed his eyes, wondering what Maria was thinking at that moment.

A thump came from above and toward the back of the house, exactly where Maria's room was located. With a grin, he gave himself over to sleep.

~~O~~

In her room with the door closed, Maria got undressed and put on a t-shirt to sleep in, all the while thinking about the hearing test Nomura had done. If she had Steve's super hearing, what else had she gotten from him? She remembered hearing about a boy who developed potentially deadly allergies to fish and peanuts after receiving a blood transfusion from someone with those allergies. Steve's ability to heal had saved her life. What other side effects could there be?

Her eyes landed on the bed, a heavy wooden frame that would take four adult males to pick it up without taking it apart. Moving to the footboard, Maria grasped the bottom edge, took a breath and lifted. She made a silent gasp when she was easily able to raise it to shoulder level. Grinning to herself, she said, "Too bad it's not going to last."

She dropped the bed, brushed her hands together and crawled under the covers. Turning on her side facing the window, she closed her eyes and waited for sleep. And waited. After a while, she rolled the other way, feeling like something was missing. Turning onto her back, she reached for the book she'd taken from the library, opened it to the bookmark and started reading.

Two Hours Later

Loud music blasted Steve from the dreamless sleep he'd fallen into, sending him running to the living room.

I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy,

Yankee Doodle, do or die;

A real live nephew of my Uncle Sam,

Born on the Fourth of July.

I've got a Yankee Doodle sweetheart,

She's my Yankee Doodle joy.

Yankee Doodle came to London, just to ride the ponies;

I am that Yankee Doodle Boy.

Footsteps pounded on the stairs as he silenced George M. Cohan's most famous patriotic tune. He turned to see Maria standing on the bottom step, a scowl firmly in place. "What the hell was that?"

"Barton's idea of a wake-up call." He handed her a sheet of paper with a note written in Barton's nearly illegible scrawl.

Dinner's in the oven.

Wine and dessert in the fridge.

Enjoy your romantic dinner for two.

It was signed with a bow and arrow.

Maria pushed the hair out of her eyes. "What is he talking about?"

Steve pointed to the table by the window that looked out into the garden. It was set with a snow white tablecloth and napkins, real china and silverware, and white candles. There was a second note advising them to start the music during the meal and a Blu-Ray to watch afterward.

Shaking her head and smiling, Steve sat down on the stairs and Maria sat next to him. "Every time I get the urge to kill him, he does something like this."

He held her hand, feeling the strength and vigor that had been lacking twenty-four hours ago. She pulled free and stood, reminding him she was wearing only a t-shirt and he was in boxers. "We should get dressed and eat before Barton's hard work goes to waste."

Vermont

The music stopped, and James waited for Natasha to knock on the door to tell him it was time to eat. When she didn't, he went back to reading. The story of Jason Bourne was somewhat fascinating. As he delved deeper into it, there were as many similarities between the character and himself as there were differences, that he could remember.

James wanted to remember how he'd been before, when was Bucky Barnes, even if he couldn't be that man again. He didn't see how hiking in the woods, chopping wood and cooking could do that. She had his trust up to a point, and he supposed it went the other way as well. For now, he'd wait and see.

Sometime later, he wondered what had become of Natasha. By his estimation, she should have come to check on him as she did during the night when she thought he was sleeping. James didn't know what to think of her treating him like a child. Should he ask her to stop or let it continue? Would she stop if he asked?

The need to get up and move sent him out to the other part of the cabin where he found Natasha asleep on the sofa. She was curled into a ball, facing the back, one hand under the pillow and the other pushed up under her chin. A lock of that red hair touched her cheek, and without thinking, he used his finger to move it back into place. A small sound came from her throat, her forehead crinkling as she dreamt, making him wonder what demons plagued her at night. Were they anything like his? Running, fighting, killing, torture? Or something much worse?

He wanted to touch her hair again. Let it fall through his fingers, but something held him back. Partly concern that she would be angry with him for doing so without permission. Another part of him wanted to do it anyway. To keep from doing something to make her regret her decision to stay with him, James opted to go outside. The door was open and he one foot on the porch when she spoke.

"Going somewhere, Barnes?"

He turned around, and now she was sitting up, her hair tousled, and that one lock again stuck to her cheek. She tucked it behind her ear and stood. The look in her eyes seemed to say that she knew what he'd done and what he'd been thinking at the time, though he didn't see how. "For a walk."

"Want company?" James hesitated, and she added, "I won't be insulted if you say no."

It may have been his imagination, but she seemed amused by him. For what reason, he couldn't say. He wanted… no, he needed to be alone for a while. "No."

"Okay. Dinner will be ready in about an hour."

James nodded and closed the door, leaving Natasha alone. In the back of his mind, he felt that wasn't right, that he should stay near to protect her, a sensation that was at odds with what he knew about her from their fight on the bridge and flight from the city. His momentary urge to stay faded but didn't go completely away as he descended the steps to the grassy area in front of the cabin. He chose a direction and started walking.

~~O~~

Natasha should've felt sorry for teasing Barnes, but she wasn't. It was part of her plan to bring him back into society and teasing was a part of it. There was so much heartache going on that he needed to see the lighter side before being immersed in the darker part of the world.

To go by the dreams he'd been having, his memories were still intact, but not consciously accessible. There had to be a way to help him remember. In his current state, he wouldn't be able to function in society without someone there as a buffer. Much like when Steve first came out of the ice. Natasha had been assigned to be his escort, alternating with other agents who brought differing views of the world due to culture, upbringing, spiritual and personal beliefs. She would proceed in much the same way with Barnes, but at a slower pace. They would stay here as long as it took.

Going to the kitchen, she stirred the stew and turned the flame down. Leaning against the counter, she took out her phone, the one that couldn't be tracked, and sent a text. *Need info re: Barnes*

Steve's response came through in under a minute. **Where are you?**

*Safe.*

**What info?**

Natasha smiled. It was just the opening she was looking for. She tapped out her requests, adding, *Send to this email. Lots of detail.* and waited for Steve's response, her mind's eye seeing his expression of annoyance.

Twenty minutes later, she received a long and very detailed email which she transferred to the cabin's computer system. Reading through it, she planned her strategy. It wouldn't be easy, the job before her. What she was doing for Barnes, Clint, Coulson and Fury had done for her. She could do no less than pay it forward. Barnes would benefit from her experience and empathy. Patience was one of her few virtues, and it would take all that she had to bring him around.

Stark Plaza

Helen rolled over, blinking at the clock until it came into focus. When she saw the time, she bolted out of bed and ran into the bathroom, showered, and came back out to get dressed. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, Miss?"

"You were supposed to wake me hours ago."

She heard what in a human would be a sigh of exasperation. "I apologize, Miss, but Dr. Banner said to let you sleep."

Going back to the bathroom, Helen used a comb to tame her long hair and put it into a long braid. "That was kind of him."

"Dr. Banner has an exceedingly generous nature."

Her annoyance with the AI dissolved, and she smiled. "Yes, he does. Is he in the lab?"

"Not at this time. He is with Mr. Stark in the lounge. Shall I summon him for you?"

Sitting on the foot of the bed, Helen put on her sneakers and tied the laces. "No. I'll go to the lab and work. Let him know that's where I'll be."

"Of course, Miss. Would you care for something to eat?"

The AI's concern for her welfare warmed her. "I would. A grilled chicken salad with ranch dressing and extra tomatoes. Iced tea to drink, please."

"As you wish."

She left the guest suite and headed for the lab. "What's the progress on the computer modeling?"

"Nothing to report as yet. Would you care to eat on the balcony or in the lounge with Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner?"

"No, thanks. I have work to catch up on." When she reached the lab, Helen slipped into her lab coat and picked up a tablet with the results of the computer modeling so far. A few minutes later, her meal arrived. Sitting at Bruce's desk, she uncovered the salad, picked up a fork and began eating. Laying the tablet aside, she sighed, the quiet of the lab making her feel lonely. All her life had been about studying and work. At university, she'd only gone on a few dates that always ended in disaster. She hadn't joined a sorority, nor had she been invited to even one frat party, and if she had, she probably wouldn't have gone. Back at university, she'd been shy and studious, and men avoided her like the plague. Still did except for work. She sighed again, poking at her salad with the fork.

Brooklyn

Dinner was over, and though it was time for dessert, Maria wanted to drink wine and relax for a few minutes. She plucked the empty bottle from the windowsill. "Forbidden Peak Vineyards, Columbia, Washington."

Steve leaned back in his chair, wine glass held by the stem in his left hand. "You say that like it's significant. Does it matter where the wine is from?"

One side of her mouth turned up. "Depends on who you ask. As long as I like the taste, I don't care about its parentage."

He finished off the wine and set his glass on the table at the same time as Maria. "Ready for dessert?" She shook her head. "Dancing?"

Another head shake as she poured the last of the second bottle into their glasses and stood, holding out her hand. Steve picked up his glass and she led him to the sofa. The music was still playing, soft and gentle. He sat down and Maria sat next to him with her feet curled under.

They stayed just like that, sitting in the dark with the music playing, his fingers lightly caressing her arm below the sleeve of her top. He kissed her forehead, and her eyes drifted shut when he rubbed the spot with his cheek. Maria sat up, finished off the wine, and stood. "I'm ready for something sweet."

Steve set their glasses out of the way and followed her into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and took out a small covered dish. Maria removed the cover and inhaled sharply, but not with awe or even astonishment. No, the emotion she felt was on the darker side: outrage. "I'm going to kill Barton!"

"Why?"

She showed him the dish contained not a sweet after dinner treat, but a handful of flat, square packages. Steve picked one up and turned it over. He started laughing, which further annoyed her.

"Why are you laughing?"

Seeing how pissed she was, at Barton and at him, Steve brought his amusement under control. He took the dish and set it on the counter to take her in his arms. "You were right. I really am that easy to read. Think he's known all along?"

"Doubt it. Romanoff and Banner had a thing a few months ago and he never caught on until it was pointed out to him. It ended just before D.C., and they're still friends."

"Seriously?"

Against his chest, Maria murmured, "Mm-hmm."

She felt his laughter where their bodies touched, a deep rumble that vibrated through her, a reminder of her childhood.

They moved back to the living room, Maria put the Blu-Ray in the player and swiped the remote from the desk, but didn't start the movie. "Remember when we talked about happy childhood memories?"

"Of course."

"I have one for you. When I was ten, my father let me have a cat. She was a long haired calico named Dixie. Her favorite place to sleep was curled up in bed with me. Her purring lulled me to sleep every night until I graduated high school."

"Did she stay with your dad while you were at college?"

The wistful smile she hadn't been able to contain turned sad. "Dad said he didn't want her under foot, so she went to live with a neighbor." Maria pointed the remote at the television. "Let's watch the movie."

The opening credits for The Philadelphia Story came on the screen and they settled in to watch the hijinks of Tracy Lord, Tracy's ex, C.K. Dexter Haven, and Tracy's eccentric family.

When the movie was over, Steve walked Maria up the stairs to her door. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her. She'd only planned on a quick kiss and they'd be off to their separate beds, but it didn't happen that way. Steve held her tight, his palms flattening on her back, rubbing up and down as if he couldn't get enough of her. Maria pulled away long enough to take a few breaths, grabbed Steve's shirt and pushed him up against the wall, her new strength making everything shake at the impact. The blue of his eyes darkened as his lips found hers once more.

~~O~~

Taking care not to make noise, Clint, Sam and Santino crept through the kitchen toward the stairs using just the kitchen light to see the way. Just for a moment, Clint listened at Steve's door, hearing nothing but the usual night sounds. On the second floor, it was the same. Sam and Santino went into their rooms and shut the doors.

Clint listened at Hill's door, and still heard nothing. Thinking they were probably asleep after a rousing session of bump and grind, he climbed up to the attic. Sitting on the side of the bed, he pulled off his boots then stood to take off his pants and plaid shirt, deciding to sleep in just his boxers and t-shirt.

He lay down with a groan, staring up at the ceiling. Using only the light from outside, he saw something on the slanted roof above him. When he realized what it was, his eyes widened and he rolled into a ball to protect himself.

TBC

A/N: The Philadelphia Story is a 1940 American romantic comedy film directed by George Cukor, starring Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, and James Stewart, and featuring Ruth Hussey. Based on the Broadway play of the same name by Philip Barry, the film is about a socialite whose wedding plans are complicated by the simultaneous arrival of her ex-husband and a tabloid magazine journalist.