Steve wasn't really feeling the holiday spirit, but he showed up to Tony's Christmas party because he knew Tony would never leave him alone if he didn't. Also, he was secretly hoping that Martha had accepted Pepper's invitation and he'd have a chance to clear the air with her. He scanned the room looking for somewhere he could go to be alone and work out his game plan, but what he found instead was Martha.

Once he saw her, he felt powerless to look away. The artist in him appreciated her choice of attire. She wore an emerald colored dress that complimented her skin tone and the cut of the material accentuated her body in a way that created the most amazing lines. He drank in the details so that he could capture them on paper once he was reunited with his sketchbook. As an artist, he thought she made the perfect muse. And as a man…well she inspired a different sort of thought process. When he realized that he had been staring at her the whole time, he quickly averted his eyes, but it was too late.

"Eyes front soldier," Martha teased.

Steve cleared his throat and forced a sheepish grin. "Dr. Jones. It's been a while."

"Yes, it has," Martha replied with a warm smile. "Merry Christmas, Captain Rogers."

"Merry Christmas."

"Are you having a nice evening?"

"It's a bit too fancy for my taste, but Stark's always seemed to be more concerned with style than substance."

"You clean up nicely though," Martha commented as she looked him over slowly. Steve shifted slightly under her scrutiny.

"So do you," Steve responded. He allowed his eyes to sweep over her form once more. "You look beautiful."

Martha tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you." She glanced at something just over his head then leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss near the corner of his mouth. Normally, she'd have to strain on the tips of her toes, but tonight she had worn heels and it made any easier job of it.

"What was that for?" Steve asked, trying to downplay the racing of his heart, but quickly reminded himself that she was a doctor and wouldn't have trouble taking his pulse.

Martha smiled and pointed upward. "Mistletoe."

Steve followed her gaze. "Of course." He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced down at his feet.

"I'm sorry," Martha apologized suddenly. "That was out of line, wasn't it?"

"No." Steve looked up quickly. "It's a tradition."

"Just because something is a tradition doesn't mean you have to go along with it," Martha said. "I mean there's this tradition about stirring the Christmas pudding for luck in the UK, but not everyone does it just because it's a tradition."

Steve frowned. "Stirring the pudding?"

Martha laughed softly. "Yea, it's a thing, but I'm not entirely sure why."

"It's not a bad tradition," Steve said. "The mistletoe I mean."

"You're right. It isn't," Martha agreed. She glanced up at the mistletoe again then took Steve by the hands and pulled him a few steps forward so he wasn't under it anymore. "But it's not necessary." She closed the space between them and pressed another kiss on the same spot.

Steve let go of her hands and caught her by the waist, holding her body close to his, but leaving a bit of space. "That wasn't a mistake," he said in a low voice.

"No," Martha confirmed, meeting his eyes. "I like you, Cap. I like you a lot."

The corner of Steve's mouth twitched upward. "Are we still playing it by ear?"

"Yes," Martha said with a hint of a smile.

"What do your ears tell you now?"

Martha placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed her body against his. She leaned her head in so close to his that he could feel her breath against his neck and her lips flitting next to his earlobe. "I can show you better than I can tell you," she whispered.

Steve let out a breathy laugh and tightened his grip on her hips. "That certainly is a tempting offer, Doc."

Martha sighed softly and dropped her hands down to his forearms. "Why do I sense a 'but' coming?" she asked as she pulled back to look him in the eyes again.

"Call me old fashioned, but I think I should at least take you out on a proper date before we…"

"Rip each other's clothes off?"

Steve's brows went up at her choice of words, but he recovered and nodded. "Yes."

Martha chuckled. "Don't mind me. I think I've had too much eggnog. You're absolutely right though," she said. "Shall we dance?"

"On our date?"

"Shouldn't you ask me before you start planning?" she teased.

Steve broke into a full grin. "Forgive my lack of manners." Martha shrugged playfully and Steve moved his hands away from her hips to reach for her hands. "Martha Jones, will you go out with me sometime?"

Martha made a dramatic show of pausing to think. "On one condition," she said, squeezing his hands gently.

Steve nodded. "Name it."

"Dance with me," Martha requested. Without waiting for a response, she tugged him towards the dance floor.

Steve had been waiting for this moment, but he had hoped to be the one to ask her to dance. He was still wading through all the music he had missed while he was stuck in the ice and wanted to choose a song that he recognized, but his fear was silenced when realized that an old jazz standard from his prewar days was playing. He looked towards the source of the music and saw Natasha and Clint standing near the DJ. Natasha winked and Clint threw him a covert thumb up before they headed off towards the bar.

"I know this song," Martha said, breaking him from his thoughts. "Glenn Miller, yea? Manhattan…no…"

"Moonlight Serenade," they said in unison.

"You know it?" Steve asked, allowing her to lead him into the fray of dancing couples.

Martha nodded. "My grandfather used to play it on his old phonograph. He taught my brother and sister and I how to dance."

"Are you any good?"

Martha placed one hand on his shoulder and laced the fingers of her free hand with his. "You tell me."

Steve rested his hand at the small of her back and was instantly transported to the kiss they shared in the elevator. "The best," he said softly. They held each other's gaze and Steve allowed himself to get lost in both the moment and Martha. When he came back down from his high, the song was over and a modern tune was playing in its place.

As soon as he halted their movement, Martha replied, "All I Want for Christmas is You." Steve sent her a questioning expression. "The song," she clarified with a smile. "It's a pop song by Mariah Carey."

Steve looked towards the DJ again, expecting to see Natasha and Clint, but instead he found an amused Tony Stark. Steve shot him a stern glare, to which Tony responded with a lift of his champagne flute before Pepper swooped in and intervened.

Martha wrapped her arms around Steve's neck and guided their movements. "Do you hate it?"

Steve put his arms around her waist and focused his attention on Martha once again. "No."

"It's one of my favorites," Martha confessed before beginning to softly sing along with the lyrics.

"Yea." Steve watched her with a smile. "I think it might be becoming one of mine too."