Written to: L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N. - Noah and the Whale. I will not be posting for the next few days.
Naufragio: Literally, "shipwreck." Colloquially, a lousy party.
Of all the serum's benefits, the one downfall about it that had quickly become apparent to both Bucky and Steve was that they couldn't get drunk. Tony had thrown the present party to commemorate another year of the Avengers' union without any major accidents (it has been 365 days since the last unmanageable accident! a whiteboard in the kitchen proclaimed proudly, and Steve wondered if the "unmanageable" part had been tacked on at the last minute, because surely Electro's little fling with the New York power grid had been a one-sided affair and thus not worth counting, apparently. Pepper, who at that time had still been pregnant and prone to throwing fits about the littlest slight that might have befallen her, had sobbed for two hours about not being able to access her TiVO'd episodes of America's Next Top Model).
If Steve and Bucky had been able to become intoxicated, the party might at least have been bearable, but as it was, the two of them were currently stuck on designated Avenger duty. Bucky had complained and protested that he had every right to hole himself up in Steve's room and play with the Wii (he was quite fond of Brawl) because he, by all terms, was not actually an Avenger, Steve had given him a puppy dog look until Bucky had relented and had grudgingly agreed to help him with any disasters that might come up while the other Avengers were indisposed.
The only foreseeable disaster Bucky could see at the present moment was Electro getting rather friendly with the margarita blender. Bucky couldn't see that going very well. Blades + rather delicate parts of the male anatomy were never a good thing.
Bucky surveys the room with distaste.
Tony had ducked out early, which was understandable by all accounts, being that he had a new baby and all.
The respectable Dr. Banner (and Bucky did respect him, really) had even allowed a generous dose of brandy to be poured into his coffee mug and was sitting on the sofa with a dopey grin on his face. He didn't look in any danger of Hulking out, which Bucky was really quite grateful for. Given his present mood, if that were to happen, he wasn't sure he'd want to stop the man.
Peter and Gwen were lying slumped together in the corner, talking and laughing giddily, a half-filled bottle of chocolate cake liqueur sitting between them. Bucky sneers in their general direction. Youths.
Natasha is a classy lady, drinking martinis and popping olives into her mouth, and by all accounts doesn't appear drunk at all. Bucky looks at her with admiration. They'd had a little thing going for a while, and had parted ways amicably (honestly? the whole whips and chains things didn't really excite him), but he was glad to see she was getting on so well with her latest conquest. She'd even managed to rope the guy into marrying her, poor soul. He shoots a look at Clint, who is staggering about, a beer bottle in his hand, and doing a caricature of someone.
And Thor. And Loki. "Oh, Midgardian alcohol doesn't affect us," the gods had explained. Rather snootily on Loki's part, Bucky had thought at the time. 190 proof Everclear had sure shut them up, he thought now, at the two gods laughing giddily and necking drunkenly on the coffee table. Their demonspawn of a son was going around and drawing on everybody's faces and personal possessions with a Sharpie, and Bucky was in no way inclined to stop him. In fact, watching the little blonde toddler scribbling all over Tony's cream walls and shag carpet was a source of personal joy.
His spirits lift when Steve walks into the room, eyes Modi for about two seconds, before picking up the child and telling him firmly that this is a very grown up party and he ought to be in the children's playroom. Steve will even put on a movie for him, and let him have more mashed potatoes if he is good. The child considers this before nodding and allowing Steve to carry him off.
Steve comes back a few moments later, a monocle and mustache drawn onto his face, and hurries over to Bucky's side with a smile.
"Sorry this thing is so boring," he says, hugging Bucky around the middle. "It's not much fun."
"No," Bucky concedes. "But I think I could make it fun."
"Oh?" Steve asks, grinning at him. "And what's that?"
"I vote we snag a pizza, or three, and go to our room and play Brawl."
And because this is the first time Bucky has called it 'our' room, and because Steve really doesn't feel like working, and because things look relatively under control, he agrees.
The next morning, the newspaper headlines shout in bold 48-point font about several small buildings that have been seemingly sliced in half. Steve had set Modi down with Mulan, and Modi had somehow managed to float himself out of the crib and into the city, where he had taken it upon himself to practice his brick-chopping skills. Just the bricks in question were buildings.
Loki had blamed Thor completely ("He's your son, too!" Thor had protested, head aching, but Loki was having none of it).
Tony had frowned - the bags under his eyes indicated he hadn't slept much, and Bucky took some savage pleasure from this -, went into the kitchen, and erased the contents of the whiteboard.
"It has been 0 days since the last unmanageable accident."