Today's chapter is brought to you by the letter T, because I am trash. Like, ugh, it's stupid how long it took me to update this, especially when I had all of spring break to work on it. So believe me when I say I'm so sorry for the wait, and I will totally understand if you don't like me after this. It wasn't even like this chapter was hard to write, and the part that I did have some trouble with didn't even take me that long to get through.

That being said, there is some content warning for this chapter; there is some homophobia in this chapter as well as a slur used against an OC.

It is not my intention to make any of my readers uncomfortable or anything like that from this story so please, if you have any suggestions on how to better create warnings in the future, I would be very appreciative and please let me know. I

Sorry I know this is a rather long authors note, but wrapping things up now just to say thank you guys for sticking with this so far, welcome to the new people, and that I am again really sorry about how long it took for this update. I really hope the next one is up faster. Love you folks, seriously.

Adara.

Chapter Fifteen:

Early October, 1943, Location: HYDRA Base, New Zealand

"Are you out of your ever-loving mind?" Bucky snarled, blue coat pulled tight against the mountain chill. "Or are you just trying to give me a goddamned ulcer, Rogers?"

They were running a solo-mission… well, it wasn't exactly a solo mission. The rest of the Commandoes were waiting on them to reach their rendezvous point at the base camp before they made their final assault on Schmidt's base. They weren't expecting to find many weapons at this base; all of their intel suggested that it was an intelligence bunker, a meeting place for some of HYDRA's more key members.

And it was heavily fortified, as evidenced by the convoy that they'd just intercepted.

"Oh, come on Buck." Steve offered his best shit eating grin, wiping the soot off of his face. "I had everything under control."

"Under control?" Bucky was turning a lovely shade of red, and Steve became momentarily distracted by the plumes of steam billowing up from his nose as he sputtered. "I wouldn't call having a pissing contest with a freaking flamethrower under control."

He made a vaguely threatening and completely exasperated gesture towards where the guy was crumpled on the ground, his equipment completely scrapped from his body and awaiting a tactical pick-up from one of Stark's people. It was a good win for the SSR; Howard had been itching for a chance to get a look at Schmidtt's heavy soldiers. Granted, deciding to take the guy on by himself had not been one of Steve's brightest decisions according to Bucky.

"Look, we needed to get the guy, Buck." If his smile was a little forced, somewhat tired, Steve tried his damndest to hide it. Truth was, they did need to get that guy, not only because he was keeping Steve and Bucky from reaching point B, but because they needed to get their hands on every piece of HYDRA technology that they could manage.

That was why Steve was here, after all, to help the Allies win the war… people had died so that he could be given the chance and he'd rather eat his own shield than admit defeat.

Bucky growled savagely at that, moving with jerky motions as he shouldered his rifle and reached for his battered pack of Camels.

"Needed to get him, you say?" He muttered, striking a match in a flare of light that was cupped by his hand. "Sure. Sure Stevie, I get that."

There was a but coming and he saw it in the dark shade of those gray eyes.

"But that does not mean that you get to go running off on some half-cocked idea because you have a goddamned hero complex and a point to prove you idiot!" Bucky took a long drag before jabbing a finger into his chest. "I swear to fuck Rogers, I don't know who put it into your stone-stupid head that you're some sort of replaceable commodity, but you're not! So stop trying to get yourself killed with your idiot schemes or I swear to everyone and everything that will listen that I'll follow your ass into the afterlife just to beat some sense into it."

In spite of the fact that Steve knew Bucky was beyond pissed at him, he couldn't help but smile. Because it was a response that was so characteristic of his friend, and for a moment it chased away the harsher edges that had cropped up ever since he'd liberated the POW's from that base. But then Bucky was glaring at him again and Steve knew without a doubt that if there was anybody who could stay true to that promise it was his best friend in the world.

So instead of baiting him out again, Steve just raised his hands in surrender before reaching down to grab his shield.

"Sure thing, Buck." He murmured, unable to keep his face straight.

Bucky snorted in disgust, flicking the butt of his cigarette away as he shoved Steve in the shoulder. "Fucking punk."

IOI

September 19, 2011, Location: 49 Warren Street, Atlanta GA

"Well, you four look like you've been busy today." Steve looked up from where he was seated in the patio chair, fingers absently running over the rim of his glass. "What did you do?"

"It was the worst thing, mom." Nicole groaned from her position next to him, feet up and tucked under her legs as she flipped another page in her magazine. "We did manual labor."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the redhead, taking a sip of the iced tea and watching as the shrinking ice cubes knocked against one another. In truth he was a little sore from all of the lifting and work they'd done to get the tree-house back in working order, but it was a good kind of sore. Not the kind that you got after being slammed against a brick wall and having the stuffing knocked out of you, but rather that which is associated with a long day of labor.

Of course, once Dum Dum had returned and offered to help, as well as Nicole's cousin Katie things had gone a lot quicker.

"Oh, poor baby." There was absolutely no sympathy on her mother's face, and Steve had to fight a laugh. He wasn't exactly sure what he had been expecting when he had first met Emily Walker, but after only a couple of days Steve could already tell that sarcasm ran strong in their family.

"You are cruel, aunt Em." Katie huffed, sprawled out on the swing and kicking her foot gently to maintain her rocking rhythm. "I didn't even want to help."

A bit of an exaggeration from the dark haired girl; Katie had been the first to ask if they'd needed a hand.

"Liar." Nicole snorted, throwing a dirty look at her cousin before turning back to her mom. "Anyway, we fixed up the tree house, got a few new chairs and stuff for it. I also cleaned out the fire pit and put the ashes in the can in the garage."

He hadn't mentioned it to the redhead, but she actually had a few smudges of ash near her hairline and across her cheek from where she'd dragged her hand across her forehead. The exaggerated pout on her face dropped to one of actual interest, though Steve could see that she looked more tired than any of them. He thought back to this morning, the fact that their rolls seemed to have reversed in that she had woken up early and he had slept in rather late–by his standards at least. Nicole had told him that she had gone to sleep, and he was inclined to believe her if only for the fact that she had pulled an all-nighter yesterday, but… he still worried.

Nicole was his friend, after all, and he didn't exactly have those lining up around the block.

Emily took a few steps to look around the edge of the deck wall, her brown eyes sweeping over the yard as her lips pursed slightly. "I saw the old stuff hanging out of the trash can, and thanks. I appreciate you guys helping out, especially during your vacations."

"No problem aunt Em!" Katie grinned, stretching out languidly. "Always happy to eat your food and help out around here."

"Mmm." Emily hummed, twisting her head so that she was watching them again. "Have you had lunch yet?"

"We made some sandwiches about an hour ago." Dum Dum yawned, his hat tilted up in the back so his eyes were partially shaded. "Well, that's more to say that Ellen made some sandwiches."

They had been delicious, made with some sort of spicy chicken and flatbread so that they left a sharp kick in the mouth. After the first introduction Steve hadn't actually seen much of Nicole's aunt and uncle during the day; they had been working on the tree house and Mark and Ellen had a busy four year old to keep busy. Other than a quick lunch that had involved more of being used as a jungle gym for Simon than actually eating, they had been out in the woods, in the shed, or somewhere between.

"Alright good. Don't want y'all going hungry or something." The smile that stole across her face was genuinely pleased. "I just talked with your aunt and uncle, do you want to go out to eat or do you want me to make something tonight?"

"I can cook, mom." Nicole offered hurriedly, closing her magazine and tossing it onto the patio table. "You should take the night and relax."

Steve watched his friend climb to her feet, her face open in an expression of genuine affection that made him wonder how he could have ever doubted the sincerity of her emotions. Sure Nicole could whip back and forth between anger and happiness so fast that it gave him whiplash sometimes, and she tried to bury any scrap of compassion beneath a prickly layer of humor, but the redhead did care. He'd noticed it in all of the little things she had done in the two days that they had been in Georgia. Whether it was helping to grade calculus tests, watering the plants or handling the dishes, Nicole was doing an awful lot around the house during their supposed vacation. Not that he blamed her; truth be told Steve had always hated having nothing to do with his time. They had only been there for not even a whole two days though, and most of that time had been spent reminiscing with Dum Dum, or listening to horribly embarrassing stories about when Nicole was a child.

And Steve had definitely learned some interesting things about her.

"You sure? There are a lot of us." Emily warned. "And you know how Jack and your grandfather eat."

Not to mention himself; between the three of them Steve firmly believed that he, Jack and Dum Dum could easily clear out the pantry and still be hungry.

"You know how I eat." Nicole rolled her eyes leaning forward onto her toes as she stretched out her spine. "I can handle cooking for nine."

"Plus I can help if you'd like." Steve offered, earning a loud snort from Dum Dum. "What?"

"Don't let him within fifty yards of the stove while you're cooking. No offense Rogers, but I remember the taste of your food and I would rather face an entire HYDRA bunker again!" The older man laughed, a booming laugh that had the back of his neck turning red as the three women turned to look at him.

"Okay, cooking over a campfire and cooking over an actual stove are two different things, so bite me." He groused good-naturedly, lips hitching in an embarrassed half smile.

Steve was a fair cook, he'd needed to be towards the end when his ma hadn't been able to feed herself. And then after he and Bucky had moved in together, he'd been the one that would scrape together a quick meal while his friend was at work. That didn't mean he was ready to open up his own chain of restaurants by any means, and once they had shipped out overseas Steve had tried his hand at preparing a quick meal over the camp fire and… well, Dum Dum wasn't wrong, it had ended terribly.

Falsworth had taken one bite and politely tossed the rest over his shoulder while the others had been much more vocal in their dislike. Whereas Dum Dum had promptly spat it back out and carried on about how Steve was trying to poison them, he had sat there resolutely trying to finish the mush without giving any indication of how awful it really tasted. He and Bucky had made it roughly half way through before they finally broke down and tossed the leftovers for whatever unfortunate animals would risk eating it. Needless to say, he had never lived that particular experience down.

"Yeah, whatever you say pal. I'm still convinced that you were trying to kill us." The burly man huffed, reigning in his laughter at the sound of the mudroom door opening in the background.

Nicole had a smirk on her face, lips twisting as she bumped into him with her shoulder, hands shoved into her pockets. "Don't worry Steve, you haven't killed me yet with your cooking so I'll take you up on that offer of help."

He threw a somewhat grateful look to his friend. "Thank you. It's nice to know that someone here appreciates me."

"Granted, I do still recall the horrible incident when you tried to smoke us out of the apartment by frying chicken in a cast iron skillet." She smirked. "The fire alarms went off and woke up the next door neighbors."

Steve let out a strangled sort of groan at that, recalling the one time–one time–he had tried to make dinner for Nicole, who had been at a meeting at the Bank. She had walked in to a cloud of black, thick smoke that had required them to scrub the stove and surrounding walls. It had been an easy enough mistake, he figured, but she had yet to let him live it down.

"That's cruel." Steve growled. "Jerk."

The redhead winked at him, her entire face brightening at the sight of the excited four year old running towards her.

"Nicky!" Simon beamed, a sheet of paper flapping in his hand. "I drew you a picture!"

"I can see that!" Nicole bent low to scoop up her cousin, lifting him onto her hip as she allowed him to show her the picture. "Oh, it's such a good picture too! Thank you, Simon!"

"Is it really?" The child looked up at her through his mop of messy black hair, brown eyes wide and hopeful.

It was somewhat of a shock to see Nicole interacting with children, though Steve couldn't exactly say why. He supposed it mostly had to do with the fact that he had gotten quite used to the profanity that spewed from her mouth, but as soon as she'd first seen her little cousin it was like a switch had been flipped and a filter had been effectively put into place. And something softened in her, something quiet and tenderly affectionate that smoothed out the dangerous edges of her personality. She went from being a snarky smartass to completely doting on her nephew.

"You know what, Simon?" Nicole grinned, turning to Steve. "My friend Steve over here is a really good artist. Why don't we ask him to take a look?"

"Oh, I think I can do that." He wouldn't exactly say that he'd had a lot of experience with children, he certainly didn't do much babysitting that was for sure, but when he'd been doing the PR for Senator Brandt he'd had more than a few fans of younger ages.

"Wanna let Steve see your picture?" Nicole asked quietly, a fond smile on her face as the four year old hid his face shyly.

"It's alright buddy, I understand." He offered gently, lips twitching slightly. "I used to get really shy about showing people my sketches too."

There was a flush on the child's dusky cheeks, and for a moment Steve thought that he was going to say no. Instead a small, slightly freckled arm shot out to offer the picture. He took the picture carefully from the four year old and smoothed out the slightly crumpled paper. It was drawn on heavy construction paper, the kind that you can pick up in large tabs from just about any store. He saw the zigzag of green that was supposed to be grass running along the bottom edge of the page, a few flowers sticking up in shades of yellow and orange, all drawn in a child's hand. There was a large tree, with a yellow and brown blob that was supposed to be a cat, as well as a tall, humanoid shape with a mop of red spirals reaching up to rescue it.

The lighter brown spots all over the face made it obvious that the person was supposed to be Nicole.

Along the top of the page, through clouds and birds, was scrawled My Cuzin Is A Supperhero! The 'S' was backwards, and the letters were large and shaky, but the picture itself was absolutely adorable.

"Well," Steve pursed his lips, adopting a very thoughtful expression. "I have to say, best drawing I've ever seen."

Simon was peering out of the crook of Nicole's neck, brown eyes huge.

"Definitely want to get this framed Nicole. When Simon's famous, you can show off his early work to all of your friends." He offered the picture to Emily. "What do you think?"

She grinned then, nodding her head. "Oh yes, best drawing I've ever seen."

There was a murmur of agreement from everyone else as the drawing was passed around and by the time it returned to Nicole, Simon was bouncing in her arms. "Grampa says that you help save people! That you're like a superhero!"

There was a slight lisp to the four year old's voice, and Nicole couldn't help but laugh at that, rustling his hair. "Well, I don't know about that but I do try to help."

"Thanks for the picture kiddo, I love it." She set him down gently. "I'm gonna get a frame for it and put it up at my apartment when I go home!"

"Do you have to leave?" Simon pouted. "Can't you come home with us? You can sleep in Katie's room, she don't need it!"

"Hey!" Katie sat up, looking at her brother in utter betrayal. "I need my room!"

"Not-uh!" Simon shot back, until the two were bickering back and forth. Steve chuckled at that, catching Nicole's movement out of the corner of his eye as she bent over to scoop up her magazine. She looked down at the pair, lips twitching before turning back towards the house.

"I'm gonna go put these away, and then scope out the fridge for what I'm going to make." She paused, one hand on the edge of the glass door. "What time is Jack coming home?"

"He should be back by around five or five thirty. I was thinking dinner by seven?" Emily answered, leaning down to gather the glasses from the table. "That way you guys can have a little time to yourselves."

"Oh!" Katie bounced to her feet with a wide eyed expression. "We should go to that club–oh what's it called–the one that we went to last time I visited?"

Nicole paused thoughtfully, tapping her finger to her lips. "Tongue and Groove? You wanna go there?"

"If that's the place with the balcony thing, then yes. The dancing was so much fun." Steve paused at those words, a familiar sense of dread going through him.

Dancing? He didn't do dancing.

"The dancing was fun." Nicole agreed, brown eyes sliding over to him slyly. "They also have some really good drinks. I don't know though, it'll depend. We've only been here a couple days and I could still go for some R&R."

He threw a small smile over at her, a thankful smile. He had no desire to be packed tightly into a sweaty dance club filled with other people. "A bar sounds nice though."

"I'd recommend Northside." Dum Dum offered, still not moving from his favorite chair on the patio. "C'mere squirt."

Simon loyally climbed onto his grandfather's lap, reaching curiously for the hat. Steve watched with a bittersweet pang of nostalgia as the big man allowed the child to pull it off, inspecting the patch in intense interest. He remembered when they'd first met, Dum Dum had been wearing that hat even in a HYDRA prison cell, and it had weathered an entire war with him. Nobody had been allowed to mess with that hat on threat of a painful beating, and yet here they were seventy years later with his grandson wearing his bowler hat.

Ah, yes, Steve loved when his brain decided to kick him in the teeth.

"Steve!" Nicole's voice filtered out from the interior of the house, making him lift his eyes. "You're being a terrible helper right now."

"Oh you leave him alone." Emily huffed good-naturedly, patting him affectionately on the arm. "Steve is a guest, and you should be nicer to him."

"Hey! I'm nice to him!" They were moving into the house now, and he couldn't help the smile on his face.

It was a nice change from just feeling tired all the time. "Yeah, Dugan, you should be nicer to me."

"It's horrible, Emily," Nicole's family had easily pulled him into the fold though, even in such a short amount of time they treated him like one of their own and he would never be able to express his gratefulness for that. "All the time at the apartment, she just makes fun of me and beats me up."

He heard the indignant sputter from the kitchen, laughter bubbling up in his chest when the redhead peered around the corner. Her look was dark, with an unspoken promise in them but Steve just smirked innocently at her.

"You poor thing." Emily tutted, looping her arm around his just like the first time they'd met. "That sounds like my daughter though, not a polite bone in her body. Goodness knowns I've tried to raise her properly…"

Brown eyes narrowed dangerously, pale lips pursing into a sour frown, before Nicole disappeared again. She was muttering something that he couldn't quite catch even with his hearing, though Steve didn't need to be able to pick out the exact words to know that she was grousing about the two of them. He liked to think that he knew her well enough by now to recognize when she was bitching for the sake of bitching, which, happened a lot actually.

"Was she always like this? With the sarcasm I mean?" He asked curiously, backpedalling as Emily began gathering the laundry from the bathroom. "Nicole doesn't talk about when she was a kid often."

For good reason, really; Steve knew that her childhood wasn't exactly something she liked bringing up that often. He didn't press for details that often either; he already knew enough to know why she didn't like talking about it. But he would be a liar if he said that he wasn't curious. He would say that their friendship was based on learning each other's quirks on a day to day basis, working forward without really looking back.

He had asked her a few questions here and there, but for the most part Steve didn't exactly pry and Nicole didn't readily offer up information. He suspected, though, that it was more a habit of withholding job-sensitive information than anything else.

It would be nice to learn a little more about his friend from an outside source.

Emily's entire face lit up as she reached down to load laundry into the machine, and she grinned up at him. "Well, she was a very well behaved baby. Didn't even cry when she was born, it actually scared the shit out of me."

"Of course, all that changed when she learned how to walk." Emily applied a liberal amount of laundry soap. "I'm pretty sure she started out running. Got into all kinds of trouble, got hurt all the time, but she never got too upset about it. When she started daycare, she was a very social kid as I'm sure you can imagine, which unfortunately changed after the circumstances of our move. Her favorite thing in the world to do was to reenact her grandfather's stories. You know, she thinks the world of you."

Steve swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, thinking back to the ride from the store earlier. For as long as he could remember, Steve Rogers had always felt like he had something to prove. When the doctors had told his ma that he wouldn't make it past his first six months, he lived through his first year. When they told her that six years was being generous, he lived well into adulthood. And yeah, he had spent his life proving people wrong, but deep down Steve had always believed that he was living on borrowed time.

That had sort of changed when Erskine offered him a spot for his experiment; suddenly his body was huge, and healthy and he could do just about anything. But people had died for him to have this chance, and he couldn't just let it go to waste. It had driven Bucky up the wall, the fact that Steve valued himself on showing the world that against all odds, he wasn't weak. He could handle himself, didn't need anyone helping him out…

And it seemed that Nicole saw right through that just like Bucky had, though she didn't call him out on it as often.

"You certainly raised one heck of a kid." He responded after a moment, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. "Maybe a little weird, but she's a sweetheart."

He thought of the day a couple weeks ago when he'd come back to the apartment to find her dressed like a robber and trying to climb through the kitchen window… on the fourth floor.

Steve had almost had a heart attack in the two seconds it took to realize it was her. "Okay, she's really weird."

"Yeah she is." Something passed over the woman's face then, something almost sad and certainly a little worried, as she shut the lid and braced her hands on the washing machine. "I don't always know what all is going on with her–confidentiality clauses and the like, you understand–but I know enough to know that it hasn't been the easiest for her. She's gone through a lot though, and while I might not exactly like that she works for SHIELD and not in a lab, I'm so proud of her."

"I've seen her in action." He said. "It's an impressive mix of recklessness and ferocity that I've seen before."

"Yeah, she gets that from Dad. Course, working solo doesn't exactly help either. Nobody to yell at her for not being safe so long as she gets the job done." Emily chuckled bitterly, shaking her head. "Luckily there was only one close call in almost ten years, so there's that."

"Hey!" The breathless call heralded Katie hurrying in from the patio. "Have you seen mom and dad?"

There was a happy look on her face, ecstatic almost, and she was already on her way into the hall just as Emily was answering, "living room."

"Thanks aunt Em! You won't believe it, but I got accepted into the John Hopkins Residency!" The black haired woman let out a high-pitched shriek of delight, one that was matched easily by her aunt who promptly swept her into a huge hug. One that surprisingly lifted the taller woman off of her feet.

"Oh God, sweetheart that's wonderful! When did you find out?" Emily gushed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Just now!" Katie was practically vibrating with so much energy that Steve thought she was going to explode. "I got an email from Dr. Tandra, my advisor. He said I should be receiving the official packet within the next three weeks and–OH MY GOD I'M GONNA BE A SURGEON!"

"Congratulations, Katie." Steve chuckled, grunting slightly when the young woman threw herself into his arms for a quick hug before bouncing back.

"We're going out for drinks to celebrate!" She hollered, heading down the hall. "Mom, dad, you'll never guess!"

Steve laughed aloud at that, surprised by the strength in her hug. He and Emily stayed in the laundry room for a little while longer, sharing fond looks, before the sliding glass door opened again and Dum Dum stepped in with Simon in tow.

"Guess you heard the good news?" He asked, tracing the steps of Hurricane Catalina.

"Oh yeah." Emily laughed, "Guess we're getting drinks tonight."

IOI

"It's really loud here." Steve noted, dipping his head so that Nicole would hear him better.

"It's a dance club, Steve." She added less-than-helpfully, fingers drumming against the bar as they waited for the tender to get down to them. "Atmosphere's a lot different from Northside's."

"I can tell." He was waiting with her as Katie swished to the dance floor, dead set on showing her moves in her tipsy state. The younger woman hadn't had nearly as much as Nicole, but of the three of them she was definitely the most affected. Which Steve found a little interesting considering that with as much alcohol as Nicole had knocked back, her insides should be pickling.

The redhead shifted her hips in time with the blaring music, either in a small dance or to alleviate some of the strain off of her knee. Steve suspected it was the former, as she hadn't uttered any complaints about aches or pains yet today.

"A lot more fun…" Nicole seemed to be murmuring to herself, reaching down to brush absently at her skirt. "Tell you what Steve, I kind of just want to regain my buzz, shake my groove thang, and find someone cute to kiss."

He looked down at her in thinly veiled interest. "Thought that wasn't your thing?"

"What makes you think that?" She peered up at him, eyes widening slightly at the look on his face. "Oh, because of–well, kissing and sex are two different things, Steve. I've done lots of undercover for work, have to get a lot closer with people than just hugs."

"What can I get for you?" The bartender looked a little out of breath and harried as he made his way down to where they were hanging out.

"I'll have a rum and coke, and a Caribbean Dream." The former was for herself, and the latter a request put in by Katie before she'd disappeared.

"Just a beer for me." He murmured. "So, if it's not too awkward to ask, where do you draw the line on that then? I mean, it's interesting to draw the parallels from what I was raised with."

And it was, really. The part of him that had always considered himself an outspoken supporter of women's rights, immigration, and equality all around was both fascinated and thrilled with how far society had come. There were still problems sure, people who were too stuck in their ways to embrace new ideas, but he felt that those sorts of individuals could be found anywhere. Steve spent a lot of time on the internet looking through all the research that had been done on issues that had been glossed over by his generation.

They watched the bartender mixing Katie's drink, a small smile curving Nicole's lips. "Well, let's see. It really depends on the person I suppose. And my state of intoxication–also forewarning I am a really flirty drunk. But for the most part I guess… I'm fine with most forms of cuddling, hugging is a definite, physical affection and–yes–kissing."

"Thanks." She murmured, taking a careful sip of her drink. "Kissing can be anything from a peck on the cheek to heavy make outs, though those are less common. I usually don't do much more than that unless it's with someone I've been with for a long time, you know? I don't know though, kissing is usually pretty casual for me."

Steve hummed in response, pressing the perspiring bottle into his forehead for a few seconds. The idea of a flirty Nicole Dugan actually seemed pretty hilarious to him.

"Hey, is that mine?" They both tossed a look over their shoulders as Nicole's cousin came over, looking flushed but happy as her eyes landed on the drink.

Nicole passed over the glass, but not before stealing a quick pull from the straw. "Sure is, darling."

"Yes!" Katie grinned, sipping on the brightly colored cocktail–the ones with an unnecessary amount of umbrellas in it–as she looked out at the packed dance floor. "Let's go dancing! Come on Nicky, let's go dancing!"

Nicole was right beside Steve, her drink a little more subdued as she sipped on a rum and coke. And really, Steve had not expected the carbonated beverage to become such a big deal over the years.

He smirked over at his friend, noticing that she looked distinctly uncomfortable by the idea. Well, it wasn't quite uncomfortable, but she did look reluctant. "Yeah, Dugan, go show us your dance moves."

"You know the old saying, people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones?" Nicole murmured quietly, arching an eyebrow at him as she straightened in her seat. "You might want to take that to heart before I drag you out with me."

"Please don't." He felt a slight surge of panic; dancing had always been hard to do when a person had two left feet, and he hadn't gotten a whole lot of practice in when he'd been younger. Not to mention that the kind of dancing that was going on in the club involved remarkably little on the lines of choreographed moves and more bumping and rubbing against each other.

He would pass, if it was all the same.

"Don't worry, blondie." Nicole grinned, setting down her drink. "I wouldn't subject anyone to that. I'm not that evil."

"Nicole, come on!" Katie begged, grabbing her cousin by the hand. "Dancing!"

"Keep your pants on, I'm coming! Watch our drinks, Rogers!" The redhead was led away, the hem of her sparkly red cocktail dress brushing around her knees.

Steve nursed his beer as he leaned back against the bar, pausing for half a minute before looking for a table. Most bartenders didn't appreciate solicitors hanging around the bar if they weren't there to buy a drink. Luckily for him there were tables abound where he could sit as the ladies enjoyed their time on the dance floor.

Almost the entire family had gone out to celebrate at Northside Tavern, one of Emily's favorite bars in Atlanta. That was where they'd started anyway, everyone except for Dum Dum who had stayed behind to watch Simon.

Not exactly at the age where I can keep up with you youngsters. He'd joked, though Steve had a feeling that Dum Dum could still drink any of them under the table.

Well… any of them except, perhaps, Nicole who had somehow gotten herself challenged to a drinking competition before they'd come to the club. As she'd explained to them, clearing the table for the waitress to set out the shot glasses and a bottle of tequila, she'd been on her way to put in the order for their drinks when the guy had made some rude comment about her choice. As proud as she was, Nicole had immediately challenged the guy, and the drinks had been set out.

At the time Steve had been a little skeptical, thinking back to the white wine when they were in DC, but both Emily and Jack had just exchanged knowing smiles and told him to sit back and watch.

Less than an hour later Nicole was sitting in her seat primly, dress smooth and her curled hair pinned back perfectly from her face, as she watched the guy struggle to finish the last shot. Needless to say, she had easily drank him under the table without even seeming to be affected. It wasn't long after that Emily, Jack, Mark and Ellen took off for the night, leaving the three of them to bar hop a little bit before eventually ending up at Tongue and Groove, the club that Katie had wanted to go to in the first place.

Considering the fact that tonight was a celebration of her upcoming residency, neither he nor Nicole had complained. Even though the tall redhead had thrown him a brief pleading look as she'd been dragged off.

Steve was more than content to watch the drinks and not join the ladies, and in the back of his mind he could hear all of the familiar insults Bucky would be throwing at him if he were there.

Because only Steve 'I'm-a-fucking-idiot' Rogers, he would growl, downing the rest of his beer, would pass up the opportunity to go dancing with two lovely dames.

He wished that Bucky was there to make fun of him for it, would gladly take his friends ribbing if it meant that he was there but… Steve didn't think for a second that he was getting over it, but the pain was starting to hurt a little less. He had lost before, had grieved before, and Steve had a lot to mourn for these days. But he had never been one to get emotional about it; he was fine, and he could handle it, and he didn't need anyone looking after him.

But sometimes he couldn't.

The dreams were bad, the dreams were always bad even when they were good–which wasn't often–because eventually he had to wake up. And the future was wonderful in so many ways; the food was better, so was the medicine and fact that they could find and cure a disease before it had a chance to do any real damage to a person. They were advancing at a break-neck pace and humanity was adapting to face new problems and challenges in completely different ways. There were even cars that ran on electricity, and why wasn't the government looking more into that?

There were worse things too; sometimes people seemed to be too absorbed in their technology and people behind computer screens than they were with the world around them. Congress was just about useless and the government itself seemed to have devolved into petty squabbling between political parties; it wasn't as much about the American people any more, rather who could lie better. Inflation was horrible because twenty dollars just for a shirt was ridiculous, but the point remained the same…

This wasn't his world, but it was. And try as he might to force it down, to pretend that everything was just fine with him, it was getting harder and harder as each day went on providing more questions and not enough answers. He could try and try to grin and bear it, roll with the punches, whatever, but sometimes he just felt that there was too much and it was drowning him.

Steve wished that Bucky was at his side to pull him up, keep him afloat, but like most things in his life Bucky was gone. The universe really seemed to enjoy taking things from him; his dad, his ma, Bucky, his entire life… but…

Sometimes it added things too.

Steve looked over onto the wriggling mass of people dancing, blue eyes scanning over the throng of people in the flashing lights that he swore would have given him some sort of fit when he was younger. Even with the almost fluid throng of people, he was able to pick out Nicole's figure. Sure, her height helped, and he had never actually imagined meeting a dame who was almost as tall as him–after he'd received Erskine's serum that is–without heels, but Nicole had a presence.

There were a lot of reasons to go dancing; to feel good, to just let go, to rejoice in the insanity that was just being alive, he had seen all kinds of people dancing during the war. Some moved with desperation, a raw edge to each motion, while others moved with more control. But Nicole moved like she fought, with an air of danger surrounding her and making her stand out among the crowd. People parted around her, a few souls brave enough to try and sidle up behind or around her though she didn't notice. Instead she just grinned at her cousin and pulled the woman close as they swayed in time to the thumping music that had the floorboards vibrating.

She reminded him a lot of Peggy–his heart twisted painfully at that thought and Steve took a larger gulp of his beer–in that he was definitely intimidated a little by the redhead, but he respected her a lot too. Nicole didn't need any help, didn't need him telling her how to do her job, and she could lay a man out flat faster than he could blink. But Nicole also told really–really–bad jokes. And she had discussions with him about politics, religion, science and the environment whenever the mood suited him. But what amazed Steve the most about the woman that he considered his friend was the fact that she didn't treat him like some antiquity. Minus some light teasing about his age, she let him figure things out for himself.

Nicole didn't try and do everything for him, she didn't try and hold his hand or spoon feed him everything that had happened in the past seventy years. Nor did she just expect him to do it all completely on his own, like he'd been planning to when he'd first woken up. Instead she'd offered pointers in where to start, her own observations every now and then, and the tools that he needed to learn on his own.

For that he was infinitely grateful.

"You look like you're thinking pretty hard about something." Steve looked up to find Katie sinking into the bench across from him, reaching for her drink.

She had sweat beading lightly on her tanned skin, and was absently fanning herself with her bag as she kicked up her feet. "Not interested in dancing?"

"It's not really my thing." He admitted honestly, leaving out the fact that his idea of dancing was a lot different from this. "You look like you're exhausted."

She dipped her head of dark hair in acknowledgement of his words, pressing the cool glass to her forehead. "It's getting a little late, I'll admit. And I've been in one heck of a celebratory mood. I still can't believe I got that residency."

"What exactly does that mean?" His mother had been a nurse, had explained to him a little bit about what it would take to become a doctor, but that was a long time ago and after he'd decided to pursue art school she'd let the subject drop.

"Well, in order to become a doctor or–more specifically in my case–a surgeon, you have to get your bachelor's degree in something science or humanitarian related. I guess it's not exactly necessary but it's recommended. I did mine in neuroscience because I have always been fascinated by the brain. Then you do another four years minimum at medical school." Katie leaned down to pull one of her feet into her lap, pressing her knuckles into the arch. "But a residency is where we get our in-depth training. It's kind of like an internship, only it lasts longer and is a lot more detailed."

"And you've had your eye set on John Hopkins?" He wasn't entirely sure where that hospital even was.

Katie nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, it's an excellent program that gets me working in the head and neck regions. The training is magnificent and they don't accept very many students."

"Well," Steve lifted his beer to clink it lightly against her glass. "Congratulations again. And if I ever need someone to literally poke around in my head, you'll be the first on my list."

"Thanks." A slight flush of color lifted to her cheeks, and it occurred to him that her eyes were huge as they watched him. "Do you work with Nicky? How did you two meet?"

SHIELD had already presented him with an acceptable cover story for that, it was one of the first things they'd gone over with him, and Steve mulled the words over. "I'm sort of between jobs at the moment. I got discharged from the army before she'd moved from DC."

It wasn't an exact match to the SHIELD story, but Steve figured that if Fury had a problem with it, he could get over it.

"I had a roommate, but he split so I took out an ad." He shrugged. "Nicole replied, and she sent out some feelers to see if SHEILD was looking for a new recruit."

Katie smirked slightly at that, shaking her head. "Sounds like Nicky, yeah. She's a helper like that. I'll give you a word of advice if you haven't learned yet; she has an insane sweet tooth, so if she's ever having a bad day just throw candy at her from a safe distance."

They both shared a laugh at that, before it occurred to Steve that the point of their discussion was nowhere to be found.

"Where do you think she's gotten?" It took a few seconds of them scanning the crowds for Katie to reach out and squeeze his arm, pointing towards the bar.

"This can't be good." Nicole was leaning casually against one of the stools, her arm thrown protectively around a thin person who looked as though they would like nothing more than to disappear into their slightly oversized shirt. She was staring down at a bombshell blonde with caked on makeup and her–he assumed–boyfriend that looked like he'd just stepped out of one of those reality TV shows.

Katie looked uneasy, her entire body betraying the tension that was cutting through her buzz. "She's angry. Look, you can tell by the way her eyes are squinting."

"We should go over there and see what's up." It wasn't hard to tell from where they stood; to the untrained eye, Nicole looked like she was with a friend, maybe more, completely relaxed and chatting amicably.

But Steve had lived with Nicole, seen her on a day to day basis, for approaching three months and it might not seem like a lot of time in the grand scheme of things but he had been trained to read people. And he read all of the subtle tells that revealed just how very not fine she really was; her shoulders were slightly hunched, strung tightly, and as Katie had pointed out her eyes were pinched in the corner.

But it was the hand casually braced on her hip that had him hurrying through the crowd.

Because the way her fingers were drumming against her hip let him know that she was outraged and borderline violent.

"You think you can hold her back if I have to deal with those guys?" He shouted to the dark haired girl chasing behind him.

Katie squeezed his hand in response, and Steve would have to assume that it was an affirmative. But then he was nearing closer and Nicole didn't notice as she was practically snarling at the boyfriend.

"Have you got a problem, buddy?" She snapped, and if she were a cat her claws would be out and her fur bristling. "Because I really don't like your tone."

The boyfriend reached out in an attempt to shove at the person sitting on the barstool. They were wearing a baggy flannel shirt–red and black plaid–and dark skinny jeans. Their dark hair was cropped short, partially hidden under a beanie, and Steve caught the glint of a silver ring in the middle of their lower lip. The individual that Nicole had her arm around had soft features, at a passing glance he would have assumed that they were female but… something about the person seemed too masculine.

"Yeah, something's wrong. This butch ass dyke was hitting on my girlfriend and I don't appreciate it. And if she wants to play at being a man, I think I should be allowed to treat her like one." He sneered, alcohol on his breath.

For the first time the person spoke, stiffening their spine. "I'm not a lesbian, asshole. And I'm not a woman either."

"And even if they–?" Nicole looked curiously at her partner, only continuing once they nodded. "If they were flirting with your girlfriend, it was an honest mistake. So why don't you go back to enjoying yourself, and we'll mind our own business."

"I think that sounds like a really good idea." Steve offered, an edge of ice creeping into his voice as he squared his shoulders and took a defensive stand right behind Nicole.

It was actually almost hilarious to watch as the jerk's eyes bugged out of his head, just like the businessman at the airport though this time it wasn't Steve who was swooping to the rescue. Glazed brown eyes widened to the point of comedy, and he could watch the gears turning–slowly, pathetically, he seemed to be running on a very simple track–as the guy weighed the pros against the cons of trying to pick a fight.

Between the hostility rolling off of Nicole and the promise of a follow up from Steve, the guy seemed to think better of it. At the very least his girlfriend seemed to think better of it, especially as Katie was standing right at his shoulder and damn, looking like you're itching for a bar fight must run in the family because the shorter woman was fierce and a little bit scary.

So the blonde snaked her spray-tanned arm around his, pulling slightly. "Come on. Let's leave these fucking losers to their sad party."

"Good plan." Nicole nodded, completely unbothered by the insult.

The guy shrugged his shoulders, pulling a disgusted face at the group of them. "That's fine. Don't want to get any faggot blood on my hands anyway."

Steve saw red at that, fists clenched so tightly that he could feel his nails digging into his palms. He wanted to deck that guy, wipe the sickening smug look off of his face with his own knuckles so that he was little more than a bleeding mess on the floor. And he could do it too, it would be easy and Steve doubted that that drunk guy would be able to rouse even a token defense by the time that he managed to beat the shit out of him.

Once upon a time Steve wouldn't have hesitated to give that guy a piece of his mind, back when the jerk could have wiped the floor with him, because nobody deserved to be devalued and insulted for an honest mistake. Hell, he still felt like running him down and making him apologize, in depth and sincerely, for the shit that he'd just said. And he had a feeling that if he did decide to go down that road, Nicole would be right beside him.

"I'm so sorry about that." Nicole pulled her arm back as soon as the rude couple was gone, "I didn't mean to just get all up in your personal space, but what they were doing was rude and out of line."

The person–and Steve realized that they were actually quite gorgeous with huge green eyes and long, dark lashes–turned in their stool so that they were facing all three of them. Their eyes were a little wet in the corners, but it could have been a trick of the lighting, and they were set perfectly on a face with features so fine they bordered on delicate.

"Thank you." Their voice was thick with emotion, and they looked like they wanted nothing more than to pull all of them into a hug. "I… I wasn't even flirting with her. I'm waiting for my sister to meet me here."

"It's no problem sweetie." Nicole gave them that brilliant smile of hers, the one that she reserved for very special occasions because it was neither sarcastic nor teasing. It was sweet, soft and genuinely tender and it was the kind of smile that worked like a charm in making anyone feel better about… well, anything.

"Yeah," Steve swallowed, feeling his neck starting to heat up. "Those two were awful, nobody should be treated like that."

"A pox on their small-clothes." Katie added, nodding decisively. "The fuckwads."

The person with the green eyes–and it occurred to him that they should really find out their name–let a small smile flicker across those delicate features and damn, Steve could swear that his entire body was starting to get warm because the person was smiling back and it wasn't a lot, but it did wonders.

"I have an idea," Nicole offered, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Would you mind if we waited with you? I've been on my feet all day and my knee is killing me."

The smile became even larger, and well-manicured hands gestured to the stool beside him. "I would love it if you would; you guys are the most interesting mix I've had the pleasure of meeting. My name is Ryn, by the way."

"Nicole Dugan, my cousin Catalina and our friend Steve." He noticed the way she tactfully left out his last name, and offered his hand.

"Gotta say, you're pretty interesting yourself Ryn." He offered, taking his other side as Katie settled next to her cousin. "What brings you here? Special occasion or…?"

"My sister's birthday. She turned twenty-four a couple of days ago, and we finally got some time off together to celebrate, just me and her." Ryn explained, nursing the bottle of beer in their hands. "She should be on her way from work."

"Congratulations!" Katie beamed, "We're here celebrating my upcoming residency."

"Nice! This calls for drinks!" Ryn was still a little tense, and as they bought a round of drinks Steve saw a tightness around their thin lips that showed they were still bothered by the altercation from earlier. As soon as the sister, Eva, showed up however their small talk devolved into more drinking and cheerful shouts. It was not long after Katie started drifting off against Ryn's shoulder and Nicole had ended up kissing Eva full on the mouth, that Steve realized it was probably about time for them to start heading home.

Mostly because of how late it was getting.

He had pulled Nicole away from the much shorter brunette, they did look absolutely adorable together, and informed her that her cousin was on the verge of passing out. That sobered the tipsy redhead enough that she agreed with his suggestion and the two–and a half, as Katie was unable to put together full sentences–of them bid goodbye to their new friends. They'd called a cab and were headed back to the house, thoughts of the night still heavy on his mind.

IOI

"I'm surprised how clear it is out here sometimes." Nicole mused, elbows perched on the railing of the treehouse deck. "I mean, I've seen more stars than this when I was on assignment, but we're high enough up, and a little better sheltered from the ambient light. SHIELD has a really nice observatory now, out in North Dakota that I've seen a few times. You can see so much more."

"I think," Steve was standing right beside her, watching as she put the bottle of amber liquor to her lips and drank. "You might be drunk, Dugan."

Her nose wrinkled at his comment, the tip a rosy color that matched her cheeks. "Well, yes I am. Your observation is on point Sherlock, but I'm also looking at the stars."

"There were nights, when we were overseas, where there was nothing to do but watch the stars." He sighed, it was fond and reminisce as he recalled long nights shivering on the ground with nothing to do but look up. "Bucky used to be so certain that there was something huge out there. Another planet, aliens, a whole new adventure that would make the war and everything look stupid in comparison."

"Huh." Nicole was looking at him with an unreadable expression, eyes blown wide and thoughtful. "And what about you, Rogers? Did you buy into that dime-store sci-fi?"

He shrugged somewhat defensively, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck as he peered up at the night sky. "I dunno. I never really thought of it. Seemed to me like there were more important things going on that I could actually experience."

Bucky would bring it up every now and again, more often when they were kids, the possibility of faraway worlds and travel among the stars and Steve… well, he always humored his friend. Steve remembered Bucky running up with his latest book, explaining the plot of it while he was trying to do homework, or sketch something out, and he'd just sort of hum a sure, Buck in response. Of course, on the days that Steve was being particularly negligent of his best friend's words, the paperback ended up being used as a correctional tool.

Nicole followed his gaze, her lips twisted into something bitter and surprisingly painful as she picked out the constellations that were bright enough to shine through the ambient light of the city. In the few inches that spanned between them Steve saw a huge chasm opening up, deep and strangely absolute as Nicole distanced herself. She didn't say anything, didn't do anything other than press the bottle of bourbon back to her lips, but he knew that expression. She was dwelling on something nostalgic that left an aching cavity in the chest where fonder emotions had once been lodged.

He knew that face because… how many times had he made it himself? And how many times had she drawn him out of those thoughts whether intentionally or not with a question or witty line?

"What about you?" He asked, seeking to somehow alleviate the keening grimace that had stolen across her face. "Do you believe any of that stuff?"

For a moment Steve feared he'd somehow said the wrong thing and shit, what did I do? How do I make it better? Nicole's eyes looked so wounded, on the verge of tears and shockingly clear for the amount of alcohol she'd ingested, but after a few seconds her face smoothed to dry humor.

"I do actually." She spun to face him, tipping enough that Steve reached out to steady her. "I mean, seems a little self-centered not to if you think about it. Universe is huge beyond human imagination, still expanding, so why wouldn't there be some combination out there that works like ours? Some mix of external variables that led to a rock just the right size, shape and position to support life."

Her lip hitched as though she were reminded of an inside joke, and she was swaying again. "Oh I think I've passed my flirty stage to my existential crisis stage. It might be time for me to go to bed."

"You might be right, Dugan." He agreed, resisting the urge to laugh as she pouted up at him. Katie had already been sent to bed as soon as they'd arrived back at the house, but he and Nicole had retreated up to the treehouse with a bottle from one of Jack's private reserves. He'd enjoyed a little bit of it, but alcohol had never exactly been high on his list of drinks… even when he could get drunk.

His family had a bit of a dark history with the substance so with the exception of a beer every once and a while he had a tendency to avoid anything stronger.

Didn't mean that he couldn't find amusement in the affect it had on his friend though. "You were certainly having the time of your life back at the club. Do you think you can make it downstairs?"

"I was getting my smooch on, wasn't I? Eva was cute… I mean so was her sibling, but she was all tiny and adorable compared to me. Like a…" Red brows furrowed together in slight confusion. "Like a… uh… something cute and little."

"Okay Nicole, I think it's definitely time for you to get some sleep." He smothered his laughter behind his hand, opening the door as his friend leaned into him. "We'll just have to stay up here."

"Good thing I brought things." She was snapping her fingers, tripping over her feet as Steve led her over to one of the padded benches that could double as a small, makeshift bed. "You know, the covering things. Like tarps, but for people."

"You mean blankets?" He offered, pulling said people-tarps out of one of the cabinets. "These blankets to be specific?"

"Blan~kets." Nicole trilled the word in a warbling sing-song voice, grabbing the largest one she could manage from his hands and wrapping it around herself. "You know, in a lot of the stories I read people call them duvets. I don't know why, I personally think that blanket sounds… warmer, safer. Cuddlier!"

"Well–here, lie down before you hurt yourself–I suppose it just matters where you come from." Steve eased his friend down onto her back before making his own bed on the floor beside her. That way, if she fell, which Bucky had done quite frequently when he'd passed out drunk on the couch, she'd have something a little softer than the floor to land on. "Anything is better than people-tarps, though."

"You're better than people-tarps." Nicole muttered, watching as he set the bourbon out of arms reach and settled down into his make-shift bedding nest. "Hey Steve?"

He paused, sitting up and looking over at his friend. Nicole was peering at him intently, her face a few inches from his and leaving him scrambling to figure out how they'd ended up so close without her pitching out of bed. His throat felt dry because she was close enough that he could smell the alcohol on her breath and underneath that the flowery scent of her perfume and–oh shit.

"You're such a sweetheart." His breath slipped from his lungs in a nearly inaudible breath. "A really good friend."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, immediately wishing he could backtrack but unable to move as those glazed eyes kept him rooted to the spot.

Was she going to…?

"Thank you." She was.

She did.

Nicole had bridged the gap between them and her lips were pressing against his and shit, shit, shit.

It was good, in the way that kissing an attractive person was. Her lips were soft and they were warm and, okay, it had had been a really long time since he'd actually kissed someone. Steve stayed frozen for a few moments, not that it deterred the lips that tasted like bourbon and coke and a fuzzy mix of a bunch of the other drinks she'd had that night, before some sort of instinct took over.

Which, he found a little funny considering how often he'd kissed a girl in the past.

His lips moved against hers, brain switching off his confusion jumble of emotions as one hand lifted to cup the back of her head. Nicole let out a low, pleased, noise when his fingers sank into the tangle of her red curls, pulling out a pin–the pin that seemed to hold everything together–so that the strands fell down loosely. That pleased noise turned into a purr, and when she pulled back to scratch at her scalp Steve let her go feeling dazed and confused and–what just happened?

"Oooh…" Nicole shook her head wildly, before flopping down onto her makeshift bed.

And just like out of a lame story, she passed right out.

Wait… what? And as soon as his hormones died down came the bad part. Because Steve liked Nicole, but he didn't like her like that. And he was almost positive that she felt the same way, but then she'd kissed him. Though, she'd said that to her kissing didn't necessarily equate to wanting to be in a relationship. Casual, she'd said, and would it remain so when she woke up? He really hoped so, hoped it could be taken at face value as just a drunk kiss and left alone.

Steve really just hoped that it wouldn't make things too awkward between them.

With a frustrated sigh that fell on unsympathetic ears Steve dropped back down into his blanket nest, glaring up at the ceiling. Not for the first time in his life he was left completely confused by a member of the fairer sex. And there was nothing he could do about it right now because people were confusing in general and he wasn't a mind reader and…

Ugh.

He laid there, thinking about what had happened for longer than he would have liked to admit but after several more frustrated sighs–and a brief period spent contemplating murdering his friend–Steve finally drifted off. He could only hope that the morning would provide some insight and, if he was lucky, a wicked hangover for Nicole to deal with.

Because it would certainly serve her right.