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

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

Year From Hell: Season 3, in progress. Please stand by…

Reposting to add note:

Note: Previous chapters dealt with the psychological condition of multiple personality disorder. The way it was portrayed is more Hollywood than Psychology Today. Don't sue. I don't have anything worth taking in a court battle. :-P

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 78

Eyes wide, Peter moved his hands to remove the pins from Felicia's hair allowing it to fall in blue-white waves down over her shoulders. Just as slowly, he made circles with his index finger and thumb and lightly placed them on her face surrounding her captivating green eyes, the other three fingers curved over her forehead. Like this, they made a mask just as she'd done to him. He gasped out one word. "Cat?"

Felicia's mouth opened and closed. She was struck speechless at this plot twist to their intertwined story. Real and superhero lives had just collided, and Peter was just as incapable of speaking.

A familiar sound interrupted what promised to be an awkward conversation. Peter pulled Felicia into his arms, barely giving her time for a startled intake of breath before kissing her once again, this one every bit as passionate as their first on the chilly rooftop.

"Oh, sorry," Ned's voice said from behind them, suddenly finding the grass and trees more interesting than his best friend.

He and Felicia parted and their eyes locked for a brief moment. In an instant, Felicia's features took on the "life is joke" expression she put on the same way the wealthy adorned themselves with flashy jewelry. If she could look and act normal after their experience, he could too. "What do you want, Ned? We wanna be alone."

Peter turned to face his friend and Violet, who was smiling as if they'd been caught doing something much more intimate, answering for Ned, "They're about to make the announcements. Mrs. Wu sent us to find you."

Violet led Ned back toward the ballroom and to Peter's surprise, Felicia slipped her hand into his, using her eyes to convey a message. Though he was a novice on the dating scene, he got it loud and clear: We need to talk. He squeezed her hand briefly in response: Not here.

They rushed to catch up. At the ballroom door, Peter reached past the others to hold the door. Flash was slumped in his chair, chugging water like it was beer. He didn't look up as they resumed their seats in time for the announcements that included something or other about the decathlon team. If asked later, Peter wouldn't be able to say what it was because Felicia had her hand on his thigh. To stop the light rubbing that was muddling his thinking and disturbing his peace of mind more than it already was, he laid his hand over hers, smiling to say yes, he enjoyed it, but please stop.

At some point, they would have to talk, but it had to be where no one would hear. That left out his home and hers, and most public places that would still be open when they left the dance. But that was okay. Peter knew where to go.

~~O~~

Still reeling from what transpired by the fountain, Felicia wondered why she hadn't figured it out before now. It was true what they say about loose lips sinking ships. Or is that 'ships, as in relationships? Maybe not. They needed to talk and soon, but would he be able to get away by saying he was going on patrol?

Flash left his seat like he'd been shot from a cannon, clutching his cell phone. Felicia and Peter watched him go. But Ned and Violet were too wrapped up in each other to notice.

Ignoring the announcements and her tablemates, Felicia spent the time sorting out tiny little clues that pointed to Peter's secret life as a costumed superhero. Clues that, in retrospect, she hadn't even noticed or dismissed as her imagination running on overdrive because of their mutual attraction in both personas, which now made all kinds of sense.

Peter tightened his grip, his forehead wrinkled, head tilted to one side, listening to something only he could hear.

Ah-ha! Another clue!

Leaning close, he spoke in hushed tones, "I'll be right back."

The next moment, he was gone.

~~O~~

"You're where?" Flash shouted into the phone as Peter let himself out of the ballroom. "I don't care what Greta wants. Take her home then come back and get me."

Moving to where Flash could see him was a reminder that he wasn't alone in his troubles.

"And my… friends… What? No-no-no! Home, Gerald. Take her home! Nowhere else… Gah! If she wants to go to the Hamptons, she can get a ride from her chauffeur… You work for my family, not hers… Whatever."

Flash ended the call, shoved the phone in a pocket, and continued pacing in the hallway, ignoring Peter though he didn't let it go for long. "You don't have to give all of us a ride home, Flash. May can come get Felicia and me."

"Can't. Mother promised Mrs. Parker. If I leave you and your pals stranded, she won't be happy. And when Mother's not happy…" he let the implied threat hang in the air.

The two of them were always at odds, yet Peter actually felt sorry for Flash. While he had a loving home with May, Flash was often left in the care of the household staff. His parents didn't care enough to give him tough love when it was necessary and soft love the rest of the time. They had all the money anyone could ever want, but couldn't see that their greatest riches were a loving family and time together.

Laying a hand on Flash's shoulder, Peter urged him back into the ballroom. The music was back, a fast-paced tune that was one of Peter's favorites. They reached the table and Felicia popped out of her chair with a wide grin. "Come on, Eugene. You haven't danced once tonight."

"Don't want to-whoa!" She grabbed Flash by the hand and dragged him to the dance floor.

Flash looked over his shoulder at Peter, silently imploring him to do something about his girl. Peter shrugged to let him know it was Felicia's show and dropped into his chair. A small evening bag lay in the next seat, and though he was tempted to have a peek for curiosity's sake, he didn't. Raising his voice to be heard over the music, he called out, "Hey, Violet! How about a dance?"

To the girl's credit, she didn't even consult Ned before coming around to Peter's side of the table to drag him out to the floor just in time for the DJ to slow it down. This he could do. As he and Violet circled the dance floor, they passed Flash and Felicia also slow dancing. Flash held her as if she were a bomb about to go off.

He's right, but not in the way he thinks, Peter mused sarcastically.

The song ended, Violet lightly gripped his arm at the elbow, and Peter happily escorted her back to Ned. Flash walked Felicia back to their table and Peter was glad to see he was finally having a good time. In fact, Felicia whispered in his ear and Flash laughed. Out loud! He and Ned shared confused glances. They'd never heard his do that before.

Immediately, Violet came to join them, stopping Flash from sitting by grabbing his arm. "Not so fast, Eugene. We're dancing."

"Why? You're my cousin, Vi," he protested, trying unsuccessfully to get her to release him.

"Doesn't mean we can't have fun," she pointed out.

Peter had to admit she had a point. He was about to ask Felicia if he could get her a glass of punch, but then she circled the table to grab Ned's hand. "C'mon, Neddy. Our turn."

Ned caught Peter's eye as if asking permission, and Peter smiled and waved as Felicia hauled him to the dance floor.

Crossing ankles and slumping in his seat, Peter shook his head. Because of what happened in the courtyard, he didn't expect the night to end pleasantly, though he had high hopes that they wouldn't have an argument when they met up again. But at least Flash's spirits were raised. "That's something, I guess."

The vice principal stepped onto the dance floor to speak to Felicia, sent Ned back to the table. She tapped Violet and a couple other girls on the shoulders, motioning for them to follow her from the ballroom.

Ned and Flash slid into their seats, all three men eyeing the room as other chaperones, mostly staff, but a few were parents of students, were doing the same. Peter held up a hand to forestall questions, observing with nervousness, "Look. They're only taking girls. None of the guys."

"What do you think it is, Peter?"

Brushing hair off his forehead, Peter stood, and tugged the cuffs of his shirt into place under his jacket, declaring, "Don't know. Wait here."

Darcy's Apartment

Upstate New York

"Doin' okay over there, Steve?" Darcy called out while reaching over to make the next spin.

"Fine. Keep going."

Giving herself a quick pep talk to keep from being annoyed that Steve was playing the game without straining or being out of breath, she spun the arrow again. "Left hand yellow."

Steve easily shifted position while Darcy struggled to reach under his back. She gave it up as a bad idea and went over his stomach, snickering at his crab-like position. "How are you so flexible?"

Somehow, he shrugged, including a totally genuine sheepish grin. "From the serum, I guess. Never was before." He snorted. "When you suggested we play Twister, I thought you were kidding."

"Yeah, well, didn't think you'd agree," she reminded him, wincing as she leaned into him, still trying to reach the yellow dot on the other side. Her sock-covered foot slid, throwing her off-balance. "Who-o-o-oa!"

Steve let himself fall, she landed sprawled across his chest. He held her close so she wouldn't be injured. They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Darcy's eyes widened and she clenched her jaw to keep from gaping at him when he tightened his arms. "It was fun." Using their semi-intimate position to his advantage, he planted a small kiss on her forehead and brushed his nose through her hair, inhaling the scent.

The sensation of their bodies so close together, his chest expanding and contracting, disconcerted Darcy. She got to her knees, forcing Steve to release her, then to her feet. "Ideally, we need more people, plus one to spin the arrow."

As before, she wondered what he'd been like before the serum, deciding that he was much like he is now. She would've liked to have met the pre-serum Steve, certain they would've gotten on just as well. Offering to be his friend might've made an even bigger impact in the 40s considering that the mindset was that women and men couldn't have a simple friendship. At times, she wished he'd never taken the serum. But then, if he hadn't, Steve would now be an old man, and Darcy wouldn't have the pleasure of knowing him, or he'd have died from one of his ailments long before they could meet, and it would've been both their loses.

On his feet again, and before she could make the suggestion, Steve refilled the kettle, put it on the stove, and carried the tray to the counter. "You've talked to my… um, Tony about me?"

~~O~~

"Enough to know he regrets not finding you sooner," Steve tossed over his shoulder while taking out the tea. "He's sincere in his wish to get to know you better." Darcy scoffed and crossed her arms. Any good humor seemed to have made itself scarce. Cupping his hands around her shoulders, rubbing down to the elbows and back again, he waited until she looked him in the eye. "At least give him a chance." She dropped her gaze to the middle of his chest, and he brought it back with a finger under her chin, shamelessly employing what Natasha had once called his lost puppy eyes. "Do it for me?"

Watching her thoughts bounce around inside her head, Steve waited for her answer, and soon, she relented. "Fine. Give him my number. Maybe next week we'll set something up."

Once again, to comfort her and because he wanted to, he held her close. Darcy laid her head on his shoulder, though she could barely reach, and her hands on his waist. She took a deep breath and let it out as she titled her head back to look up at him. The expression in those wide, waif-like eyes changed, compelling him to lower his mouth to hers. The sensations were nothing like the day they'd kissed to discourage her ex from continuing his cross-examination on her current love life.

This time, however, it didn't stop there. Darcy pressed her body all along the front of his until they were touching shoulder to knee, while making needful, urgent sounds in the back of her throat. This close, she had to know how much he wanted her. She was lady enough not to mention it or take it further. Instead, she halted her movements so they could simply enjoy the sensation of holding each other and kissing as if tomorrow would never come.

The kettle whistled and they jumped apart as if caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Giving each other a sheepish grin, Steve dropped one last brief kiss on her mouth then silenced the kettle. Behind him, Darcy padded to the living room in her stocking feet, and plopped on the sofa, sitting on one leg, the other foot on the edge of the cushion.

Steve set the tray down and went to move the armchair closer, leaving it in place when she reached out her hand, holding on until they were sitting side by side. He fixed them each a cup of tea, and when she leaned into him this time, he dropped an arm around her shoulders.

Viewpoint Hotel

Long Island City, New York

Junior/Senior Spring Fling Dance

Staying in the front of the group, Felicia ignored the others, tapping one foot while examining the few clues shown to find the answer as to why these specific students were rounded up and sent to cool their heels in the hall. She'd almost reached the end of her patience when the ballroom disgorged three very familiar so-called authority figures.

Without a word, vice principal Nancy Wu stepped past the group toward the end of the hall, obviously expecting them to follow. Several started forward until Felicia held up a hand to stop them. "What seems to be the problem, Mrs. Wu?"

The older Asian woman with a permanent frown of disapproval glared over the rims of her glasses, eyes narrowing and frown deepening. "The problem is a private matter, Miss Hardy, not to be shared with the general public. Hence, we're relocating to a private venue." No one moved, prompting Wu to add, "When I give an order, I expect to be obeyed."

Felicia shifted her weight onto both feet, silently cursing the heels and dress she wore that restricted movement. Improvisation was her forte. Whatever was coming would be summarily dealt with. She looked left, right, and back to Wu. "We haven't heard anything that could, even under the loosest interpretation, be an order."

Wu's lips disappeared as she pressed them together in an attempt hold her temper on the return trip. "I had your number the day you enrolled, Miss Hardy, and I was right. You've been a troublemaker since day one. Your continual contempt for authority hasn't won you any fans among the staff, I promise you."

The last of Felicia's impassivity made a valiant effort to escape the baleful glare, but she reined it back in without remorse. "Don't attend school to be liked by anyone, least of all a bunch of dinosaurs who should've retired years ago. I'm there to get an education." She made an after you gesture. "So, educate us. What've we done to deserve segregation from the other merry-makers?"

"This will be a genuine pleasure," Wu shot back smugly. The others with Wu, Matilda Reynolds and Julius Mercer, senior and junior student counselors respectively, closed ranks behind their superior. "All of you are directed to gather your belongings and immediately vacate the premises."

"Why us?"

Knowing she had to give a reason, Wu leveled her stern gaze on each of them one at a time. "You're all guilty of violating the rules enacted for this event." Felicia laughed out loud, further angering the woman. "This is not laughing matter, Miss Hardy. The dress code was sent out to every student and included a code of conduct, which you have also felt necessary to break."

Matching the vice principal's glare, Felicia readied her argument, and took a step forward. "Leaving aside the question of our attire for the moment, we haven't spiked the punch, nor have any of us gotten into a fist fight. Just what conduct are you talking about?"

Matilda Reynolds stepped forward to stand next to Wu, also crossing her arms. "The teachers have lodged a complaint on behalf of the parents acting as chaperones. They say the way you're dressed and your dancing are too provocative. The fathers informed us that the male students and hotel staff have been ogling each of you."

Inspiration struck and a small amount of Felicia's humor returned along with a smile. "Okay, I get it. You want to know if we're going to sue them for sexual harassment."

One of the girls pushed her way to the front, loudly announcing, "My parents are lawyers!"

Her words made Mercer and Reynolds jittery. She'd hit a sore spot to go by the tightening of the skin around Wu's mouth. "That's not the issue…"

"It most certainly is the issue! You're implying that it is our responsibility to control other people's thoughts and drives. Adult men are thinking impure thoughts about teenage girls, which is creepy, by the way, and blame the girls. You're saying it's our fault that men and a bunch of post-pubescent testosterone soaked can't control their primitive impulses. That's the problem with our society. It puts the onus on women, makes it our responsibility to prevent assaults."

All three senior staff members started talking at once, but Felicia wasn't done. Not by a longshot. "Did you know that the Hindus believe that it's the man's responsibility to prevent sexual assaults, but in almost every other culture, it's the woman's? Our culture's objectification of women's bodies, perpetuating rape culture by blaming the victims-that's us by the way," she motioned to the others, "and glamorizing sexual violence needs to end. Rape culture affects all women the world over. Don't forget that every woman is someone's daughter, sister, cousin, mother, girlfriend, wife, the lunch lady, or even next door neighbor. It has to stop!"

Glancing around, Felicia noticed several things. The girls who'd been singled out for harassment were angry, they'd drawn a crowd. Peter, Ned, and Flash were looking quite pleased with the tables she'd just turned. And at a guess, about thirty people were recording the confrontation on their phones. Gotta love social media!

"Every one of us is covered from shoulders to ankles. There are at least a dozen girls wearing short dresses that don't even fully cover their thighs. If we allowed you to use the reactions of men who are unable to control themselves as the reason for kicking us out," she paused for a breath, "we'd be no better than those who've gone before us that fostered this illogical and inexcusable situation in which we now find ourselves." Full of steam, she took two steps forward, raising her voice even more, "Mrs. Wu, I suggest you drop this before we get it into our heads to sue you and your cronies, the hotel, the school, and all those men and their offspring who can't keep it in their pants when women show a little skin, because we're mad as hell and we're not gonna take it anymore!"

The sentiment was echoed not only by the girls chosen to be kicked out, but by the eagerly watching crowd.

Hands on her hips, Wu stood toe to toe with Felicia, that smug grin of hers even wider, stating for all to hear, "Because you refuse to remove yourselves peacefully and of your own accord, I'll have to call hotel security. You also leave me no choice but to move forward with my recommendation that you be expelled following the spring break."

"What the holy hell is going on here?"

The roar of the crowd came to an abrupt halt, turning in the direction of the bellowing voice belonging to Principal Morita. The crowd parted like the Red Sea to let him through, and again, Felicia was presented with Wu and her self-important, narcissistic, sanctimonious posturing.

Morita moved in between Felicia and Wu, who, let's face it, was her gigantic pain in the ass nemesis. He looked from one to the other, stopping on Wu. "I asked you a question, Nancy. For what reason are you harassing these students?"

Taken aback, Wu squared her shoulders, ready to defend her position. "We were attempting to nip a situation in the bud before it got out of hand, sir. You see, these ladies…"

"Oh, I heard what you said, Nancy. Everyone heard, including the adults who, apparently, have no control over their libidos and refuse to take responsibility for it. And in a disastrous attempt to deflect attention from the fact that they've been leering at a group of underage girls who wanted nothing more than to have a little fun and fellowship with their peers, they sent you to do their dirty work while they sit back and reaped the dubious benefits." Morita paused to let Wu interject. She pressed her lips together and said nothing. The principal cast an appraising glance at the girls without lingering, and faced Wu again. "I see nothing wrong with how these young ladies are dressed." His gaze took in her cohorts who were cowering behind her now. "Everyone is responsible for their own actions. To blame their bad judgment on others is childish, immature, and unconscionable." He shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately, I seem to have to put my faith in the wrong segment of our little society."

Pacing to dispel some of his ire, Morita rubbed the back of his head, making his hair stick out. No one laughed when he poked a finger at Wu, emphasizing his point. "Educators are here to inspire and instill confidence in their students, not tear down their self-esteem, making them feel less. It's no way to empower strong women who are the future of our world."

To Felicia, Morita's words seemed to indicate that he was taking Wu's side. She did as well, to go by the expression of relief. "I fully agree with you, Mr. Morita. I…"

Morita's expression darkened like a thundercloud promising torrential storms filled with enough lightning to take down the electrical grid for a half-mile radius. "I'm glad we're of one mind in this, Nancy." He tucked his hands behind his back where Felicia could see he'd clenched them into fists in an effort to control his anger. "I'm going to do you and your co-conspirators a favor and allow you to resign rather than be terminated." A long breath huffed out and back in. "See to it that your resignations are on my desk by first bell Monday, and have your office cleaned out by first lunch period. I'm sure you understand that you won't be getting letters of reference."

He turned his back on the trio, and again, the crowd parted to let him through.

The final straw as far as Wu and her little posse were concerned was the applause that erupted from the gathered onlookers. Ducking her head, Wu refused to meet Felicia's gaze as they pushed their way through to the lobby.

~~O~~

Arms crossed and chin lifted, Peter grinned smugly. "I'm here with her."

Flash, always ready to bring everyone down, matched Peter's stance, scoffing, "Some boyfriend you are. Why didn't you stand up for her?"

"Didn't need to," he responded with certainty, indicating Ned and himself. "You see, Eugene, our girls are self-rescuing princesses. We're just the arm candy."

The crowd dispersed slowly, and Peter found himself looking into Felicia's pretty face. She tossed her long hair over one shoulder, grabbed him by the hand, and shot out a smirking side eye. "C'mon, arm candy. Let's blow this joint."

Head tilted to the side, Peter tried to make sense of what she was saying, and failed miserably. "Um, didn't you…"

"Ah, but now I'm leaving because I want to and not because of some arbitrary, misogynistic, and outdated sense of decorum. It's the men who were behaving badly. Not the women. We were the victims."

At the end, her voice rose in anger, and Peter rushed to defend himself, "Hey, I'm on your side, remember? Not that you needed my help."

The ballroom door opened, spilling Flash, Ned, and Violet into their sphere. Violet passed Felicia's wrap and clutch purse over as Flash rushed down the hall toward the main entrance, saying over his shoulder, "Let's go, love birds. The limo's back and we're blowin' this popsicle stand."

By the time the friends reached the limo, a constant stream of teenagers had joined them. From the conversations going on, many of the attendees felt as Felicia did and were leaving the party in protest. Peter knew without checking that social media was blowing up with news of the disaster of a party, and his girl was at the center of it all. That made him proud and scared at the same time. Would the bullies who'd tormented him through his first three years of high school come back for a return engagement? They do, and I'll sic Felicia on them, he thought with a mental snicker.

Once they were all seated in the back of the limo, Flash tapped on the partition to get Gerald's attention. "Take me home first then take the others wherever they want to go."

"Of course, Eugene," the chauffeur acknowledged with a nod.

Budapest, Hungary

Sitting comfortably on the floor, only a few glowing rays from the streetlight to see by, Bucky closed his eyes, and rested his right hand on the knee. Using the thumb of his left hand to close off the left nostril, he inhaled slowly through the right. With the ring finger of the same hand, he closed off the right nostril and exhaled through the left.

Natasha had told him this method of meditation was called nadi shodhana and pranayama, or alternate nostril breathing.

He repeated these steps until fifteen minutes had passed according to his internal clock, leaving him relaxed enough to sleep. Climbing nimbly to his feet, Bucky made one last check that all the doors and windows were closed and locked, and his homemade alarms were in place before lying on the thin beat-up mattress covered with a worn sleeping bag. A lumpy pillow was the best he could do.

Once he'd reached Budapest, Bucky easily found this bare bones apartment. It consisted of one big room divided by a sagging love seat and an island stove. There was a makeshift bookshelf with a few worn books and magazines, and a table against the far wall. It wasn't much, but it was all he needed to get by.

In the morning, he would go looking for work. Something low profile for which he was paid cash. Daily was preferable, in case he had to leave suddenly, but would settle for weekly.

Lying on his back, he watched the shadows flitting and dancing across the ceiling, wondering what Steve and Natasha were doing at that moment, and if either of them was thinking of him.

Bucky reached for the notebook and pen on the small table beside the mattress that pretended to be a bed to jot down memories as they came to him. It was one of several, each on a different time period in his life as James Buchanan Barnes, the Asset, and the person he was now, whoever he turned out to be.

Darcy's Apartment

Upstate New York

With an arm around Darcy's waist and the other curved under her knee, Steve wondered, not for the first time, how she ended up sitting on his lap. He knew when, just not how they'd gotten to this point. She'd turned her head at the same time he brushed a kiss over her temple, instead getting her on the lips, and it had escalated from there.

He wasn't sure how long they'd been making out, but it felt like only a few moments, and he was heartily glad she hadn't attempted to take things further. Neither of them was ready for it. At least he wasn't. Hopefully, they were on the same page regarding if or when they moved on to the next step. With Maria, it had taken years, and while that had been just fine for them, Steve sensed Darcy wouldn't wait that long. Strange as it may seem, he didn't want to either. She had to come to terms with having Tony Stark for a father and all the attention she would get from the press if their relationship became known. Steve too, because he planned on being there for her all the way, even if they never became more to each other than what they were at this moment.

Darcy attacked his lips with hers once more, and Steve returned the favor, and within that kiss, he felt something different. She was pulling back, tightening the reins on her passion, and he did the same. He looked into her eyes, answering her smile with one of his own.

They touched their foreheads together briefly then Darcy slid off his lap, extending a hand. "I think it's time you went on home."

Chuckling, he released her hand to pull her against his side on their walk to the door. "I think so too." With his hands on her waist, he brought her in for one last kiss, chaste compared to the ones they'd already shared tonight, and reluctantly let her go.

She handed over his jacket and opened the door to usher him out. "Will I see you at work tomorrow?"

"Not sure. The team has recruits to train and we may head out away from inhabited areas, just in case."

Tilting her head to one side, she gave him a long perusal, formulating a response. "I won't save you a seat at lunch then." She raised a hand, waving good-bye.

~~O~~

Darcy closed the door, engaged all three locks, and shut the lights out on her way down the hall to the bedroom. On the tour, Steve had given the room a quick once-over, but hadn't ventured inside, and she understood why. No sense in tempting him into doing something neither of them wanted to get into so early in their relationship.

She flipped on the bathroom light, brushed and flossed her teeth, and washed her face. In the bedroom, she changed into the pajamas laying on the bed, including a pair of fuzzy socks, and got under the covers.

Though she thought sleep would be elusive, she was out within minutes, dreaming of the life she could've had with a mother and father.

Avengers Compound

Leaning against the side of the car, hands in his pockets, Steve scanned the sky, stopping to stare at a spot above the tree line. "Quit lurking and come down, Tony."

To anyone watching and/or listening, Steve would seem to be talking to himself. Perhaps believing Tony Stark was there when he obviously wasn't. Or was he?

The air shimmered and the latest incarnation of the Iron Man suit appeared floating in the spot to which Steve had addressed his comment. The faceplate retracted and a not-grinning Tony scowled as the suit landed. The front opened, Tony stepped out, and it closed again, immediately going into sentry mode. Steve knew that it also blocked any attempt to eavesdrop on a private conversation. That's why he chose to confront his teammate and sometime verbal combatant outside the walls of the compound.

"Still stalking Darcy, I see," he scolded.

Unable to meet his eyes, Tony moved aimlessly around the grassy area. He bent to snatch up a handful of grass, tossing the blades in the air. "Wanted to see if you were telling the truth."

"I should resent the insinuation, but that would be playing right into your hands, wouldn't it?" Steve deadpanned. "I didn't lie and neither did she. Tonight was the first time I've been inside her apartment. She made dinner, we played board games, drank tea, and yes, we kissed good night."

Conceding the point, Tony came stand in front of Steve, arms crossed, and eyes still scanning the area. "Because you're Captain America and have a rep to maintain. Whereas I have a rep for being…"

The smirk in Steve's expression was reflected in his voice, "A genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist?" Mentally willing Tony to focus on the conversation instead of continually berating himself for the past, in all seriousness, Steve added, "You've changed since that initial meeting on the helicarrier, Tony. You're not a playboy anymore, are you?

Shaking his head, Tony finally gave up a smile. "Yet still a genius, billionaire, philanthropist. We've all changed to some extent, and I'd like to believe I've made the biggest strides in that department."

"Too bad you can't take the credit for yourself," Steve pointed out.

"Right. Without Pepper…" Tony rested his hips on the driver's fender, arms and ankles crossed. "I wouldn't have it any other way. You know Ol' Blue Eyes and I have nothing in common when it comes to regrets."

Their easy camaraderie returned like a whisper on the breeze, prompting Steve to ask, "Too many to mention?" He let Tony stew a few moments then asked the next one, "Where does Darcy fall on this lengthy list?

Tony held a hand up above his head. "She's the top, A #1, even above that for how we left things the night Mom and Dad died. Between you and me, Old Man, if I could go back in time, those are the two things I'd change."

Steve snorted, tossed his keys in the air, and caught them as the two men headed for the side entrance, the Iron man suit automatically following a few steps behind. "Time travel? You're not serious."

One hand came up, pinching the air. "Maybe a little. It's on the list." The other hand slashed down low. "Near the bottom. I mean why would anyone in his right mind wanna time travel?"

Not-so-Random Rooftop

The Bronx

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!

Thoughts still spinning from the events of the night, Peter clung to the spire of a church near the rooftop where he and Cat first met. "Karen, run a scan. Anyone on the roof of that building?"

"Not a soul, Peter. Not even residual heat signatures. It's safe."

"Safety isn't my concern," he reminded her. "Think she'll be there?"

Karen's pause before replying gave Peter the impression she was amused. "I do. You do as well, or you would be at home. She may be waiting for you to get there first."

His snort was muffled by the mask. "But what if she doesn't show up?"

"Neither of you wants to suffer the humiliation of waiting hours for someone who isn't coming. You like her, Peter, and from what I've observed, she feels the same." Peter said nothing, nor did he continue on to his destination, prompting Karen to add, "Which would you rather do, protect your heart and be alone, or take a leap of faith that she's is the one you're meant to be with?"

Peter had to admit that Karen was right. Who knew an AI could be so perceptive about the all too human emotions of the heart? "What if it's just, you know, that she and I…"

"That all you feel for each other is physical attraction, and once you've been intimate, you'll no longer want to be together?"

Underneath his mask, Peter's cheeks burned. "I-um, that won't happen. Not tonight or for a while 'cause of what Dr. Bennett found."

"Wise decision." Sometimes Peter hated it when Karen made sense. "So, what are you waiting for? Take the chance. You won't regret it."

By the end of Karen's encouraging words, Peter was swinging through the air. He let go of the web at the apex of the arc, did a triple flip, and landed lightly on the roof. Going to the parapet, he looked over the side, relieved that the streets and police bands were relatively quiet for a Saturday night.

He nearly jumped at hearing footsteps behind him, but when he turned around, he saw no one. Then, a shadow separated itself from the others, a slim figure in black. She jumped onto the roof, performing a series of handsprings that brought her to within a few feet of his position, making his heart skip a beat before speeding into a rapid rhythm against his ribcage.

As he'd done the night they kissed, Peter removed his gloves. Her gloves came off as well. At the same time, they let go, and they fell to the roof like discarded candy wrappers.

Then, when he grasped the bottom edge of the mask, she darted forward to stop him with a hint of a smile. Now that he knew her true identity, she had his full trust. No reservations, and hopefully, she would feel the same.

~~O~~

Slowly, making the moment last, Felicia pushed the Spider-Man mask up and off, so she could see Peter's face, his smile matching hers. She waited for him to do the same, but he held back. Not like the Spider-Man, she'd come to know via the YouTube videos and through their brief encounters.

Taking Peter's hands, she placed them at her temples without looking away. Her heart raced as he traced the edges of the mask, slowly peeled it from her face, and let it fall next to his that had slipped from her hand at the sensation of his warm palms grazing her cheeks before their lips met in a hot kiss.

TBC