Smoothing down her dress, she could hardly wait a moment longer to slip away, weaving through the crowd. Having been to a Tony Stark party once before, it shouldn't have surprised Holly to see the upper decks of the Tower swamped with people. The large open area was bathed in warm tones, the lighting low enough to soften the harsh angles and glass edges of the space. Multiple lounge spots dotted the floor, the focal point being the bar along the inner wall. A second, more intimate area with high table and stools graced the lower level, shades darker there than anywhere else. Naturally, Stark was living up to his reputation, with all walks of life flocking to his door. The evidence was before her eyes; young professionals, artists, technology giants, and war veterans milled about the space, occupying couches and stools at the bar, forming up around the pool table, dancing off to the sides of the room. Factions formed and broke, circling on and off around the major players in the room. A part of her was nervous about being surrounded by even more unfamiliar people, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. After a five hour drive, though, she was wondering if it maybe she shouldn't cry off and just bunk down in the captain's quarters, sleep through it.

'I don't fix my face and my hair and wear a dress for nothing,' she reminded herself, brushing a nonexistent wrinkle out of the skirt, deep purple the color of choice for once. Although nicer clothing was encouraged, she was pleased that formal dress was not a requirement for the evening. Maria stood out in fiery red, offset by Helen's royal blue, both women standing out in a sea of little black dresses. Thor in turn looked something like a cosmopolitan pirate, his sweeping burgundy coat and tied back hair turning many of the ladies' heads. For several men, a leather jacket and dress shirt was the combination of choice, her fiancé included, if they did not choose to go the smart suit route (Tony, as always, emulated class outwardly with his pressed black shirt and jacket). Across the room, she spotted Nat adjusting Dr. Banner's tie, tweaking it as she walked off and laughed, missing the long look he gave her. Or so he must have thought until she glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled slowly, eyebrow arching perfectly.

'Oh, that's new,' Holly thought, shifting her gaze when Nat suddenly shot a look at her, catching her out. Smirking, she held her drink a little more tightly as she went, wondering if there would ever be a lull in the activities for her to approach the Black Widow and at least inquire about the recent developments in her life (if not tease her a little for her clever antics). Letting her mind ponder the possibilities, she kept moving along. Picking her way across the floor slowly, she focused on her guiding point. It helped that her partner was over six feet tall; finding him was never too difficult. Besides, he hadn't left his friend or the pool table in quite some time. As he and other witness Sam scratching, she was close enough to hear him grumble at his friend's misfortune.

Spotting her approach, he grinned as Holly sidled up beside him. "Welcome back."

"Thanks," she replied, tucking back the loose strands around her face, the rest gathered in a low bun. Finishing with her task, she smirked and nodded to the table. "You doing any better, or are Marty and Simon still kicking ass?"

When she'd departed earlier, with the idea of catching up at least with Maria and Natasha in mind, she'd left the men pairing off into teams after a couple of one-on-one rounds. She'd been introduced to the older fellows back at New Year's, when they'd come at Stark's behest and presented him with a veterans' cap. They were proud to have "one of their own" still serving the world, Steve's humble thanks to them reverberating in memory.

"And taking names, as my grandson likes to say," Simon announced happily, shooting her a wink as he passed behind them to the opposite side of the table, cane in one hand and cue in the other. He tipped his tan veterans' cap at her, eyes twinkling behind the thick glasses. Steve grinned, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Game's not over yet, pal."

"You keep gumming the works like you have been, it will be," Marty groused in good nature, adjusting his aviator sunglasses before lining up his shot. Blowing out a puff of air, it stirred his mustache even as he went still. Hitting the cue ball squarely, it bounced against the other with a solid clack. Giving a crow of delight as it flew into the corner pocket, the old man shot a significant smirk in Sam's direction, who only shook his head and stepped backward to give the fellow space to line up his next shot.

"Thought you were gonna go mingle for a while," Steve murmured to her, watching as Marty sank another ball into the pocket. His muted groan of frustration was low in his throat, and made her giggle at his plight.

"I was. I did. But then the conversation got a little...sidetracked." Off his curious glance, she shrugged and took a sip of her drink before answering it. "Tony and Thor got into a bragging war about Pepper and Jane. Had to duck away from the crossfire while I could."

After being introduced to Colonel Rhodes, she'd stuck around to hear his story regarding a captured tank his general flipping a lid over its loss. With his War Machine armor, retrieval was no issue, but he wanted to give the general something of a show. Though the punchline of the story was lost on his companions—Thor had expressed confusion, while Tony blandly sipped his drink and quirked his lips—she thought it was funny. However, the real turn had come when Maria lamented about the lack of ladies ("Hey now," Holly had rebuked her, to which she'd responded with a teasing glance and made Holly chuckle), allowing Tony to expound about his partner running a company full-time, and thus making it impossible for her to come on such short notice. The god had chipped in, unsure of Jane's location but absolutely certain of her making achievements wherever she was. Once he 'subtly' mentioned the forthcoming Nobel Prize that could be awarded to her, Holly took it as a sign to leave. Hill's own parting shot to both fellows amused her, at least; there definitely was quite a bit of testosterone in the mix.

Steve took one look at her inclined eyebrows and snorted. "That bad, huh?"

"Yeah. I don't blame them for being proud," Holly said, her grin lessening a bit. In truth, she did share their opinions regarding Jane and Pepper—they were powerhouses in their own right. A finger hooked in the chain around her neck, moving down to fiddle with the dog tags there. "They are pretty amazing."

Steve's gaze narrowed slightly, his mind deciphering what she meant by that. In her demeanor, he couldn't sense any dissimulation. But he knew her, knew that she believed the moniker given to her by the gossips and the forums. "Miss Everyday". As herself, she was nothing special, just another person. How she could buy into that, he did not know, but he was willing to set that record straight.

"They're nuts," he told her, just as Marty's ball banked off the side and stopped too short of the pocket he was aiming for. Squinting a bit at him, she considered his angle.

"How so?"

His baby blues trailed over her, looking at her in a way she'd known no other man to look at her before. Cutting his gaze back to the table, the warmth in it was directed to the game. Bending at the table's edge, he lined up his shot, fixing his stance.

"Best gal around is right here and they don't even know it."

The cue struck, splitting apart the opponents' balls and in turn knocking one of his into the side pocket. Sam clapped his hand against his own pool cue, the other fellows mumbling and falsely groaning at his luck. As Steve straightened, he could see beneath the bemused expression the measure of affection she held for him.

"You're good," she said, chin dipping as though she'd meant his prowess at the game. Steve inclined his head, not having it.

"I'm honest," he countered. She snickered at that, but the wealth of feeling in her expression rose, spreading through her.

"Biased, more like," Holly indicated, coming close again. Stretching a little (her black wedge boots did give her a couple inches, but not enough to meet Steve eye to eye), she brushed a peck on his cheek. Her whisper ghosted over his ear, a shiver shooting down his spine. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

He said nothing, just gave her a lopsided grin as she pulled away. Tipping her glass to him in a toasting manner, she drank from it, savoring the taste before finding an opening in the stream of people and moving through the crowd again. He watched her go, the sway of her hips in that dress as she walked hypnotizing him for several seconds. A couple of throats cleared, and a rush of heat sprang to his face, recalling him to the present moment. He had another shot to take. Staring down at the pool table, he analyzed it for his next move.

"Just let your good luck charm walk again," Marty muttered, leaning on his cuestick and pointedly ignoring the couples' exchange. Wasn't any of his business, really, and he wasn't about to step on the moment. Still, the captain's playing was bound to suffer as a result of her departure. Eyes darted up to look at him, the glint in the gaze taking an aggressive glare.

"We'll see about that."

xXxXxXx

Hawkeye had closed his eyes, lolling his head back as he sank into his chair. It had only been a couple of hours, but it felt like so much longer than that. He'd been chatting, greasing wheels, examining the crowd without taking a breather. Not required to entertain as others were, he was more than willing to just rest and be, the cluster of couches he occupied delightfully abandoned as the party-goers began to thin slightly. Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Clint held back a grumble, letting the lids retract slowly. However, it wasn't a random stranger bothering him this time; his erstwhile pupil had come to greet him. Happily, he grinned and rose from his chair.

"Gracie Lou."

"Mister Miyagi," Holly replied, moving in for an embrace.

Gingerly, he slung an arm over her shoulder, hugging her with his good side. Though the wound had healed for the most part, it had been a bit sensitive that day, so he was doing his best to take it easy. Part of him worried the simulacrum tissue would come apart, but so far it had bonded well. He wanted to keep it that way.

Holly gave him a relieved grin, happy to see him all in one piece. When Steve had told her how he'd been injured, she'd felt sick to her stomach, nervous for her new friend's condition. Having observed him when Steve and she had first arrived, she'd thought he'd looked well enough, but did not want to intrude while he spoke quietly with Doctor Cho.

"Suppose we're gonna have to take it easy on the training this weekend, huh?" she remarked a corner of his mouth turning up at her weak joke. His responding expression held a bitter twist, causing seriousness to surface in her eyes. "They really did a number on ya, didn't they?"

The brief flash of hurt and anger surfaced in his face, not easily disguised, though with his training he'd smothered it rather quickly. Still, he'd let her see how much it infuriated him, how much he wished it hadn't happened. Not for his peace of mind, but…but for others. That, however, he didn't say.

"It happens every so often," he confessed instead, brow furrowing for a moment. Walking away from a battle without a scratch was too rare for anyone, but the Maximoffs had caused him to be cut deep and quick. Shrugging a shoulder, he tipped his head to the side. "But at least I know what to expect if we run into those kids again."

Holly's eyebrows inclined. "Kids?"

"They were roughly your age," Clint clarified. "Maybe a couple years younger, actually."

Rolling her eyes, she pulled her mouth into a mock frown. A previous statement of his resurfaced then. "Anyone under thirty, right?"

"Yep." The single word was accompanied by a decisive nod, and he snickered when she audibly scoffed at him.

"Why is thirty the magical threshold for adulthood?" she wondered, not for the first time. Clint just laughed again, chucking her on the shoulder.

"You'll know when you get there, grasshopper," he teased, gesturing with his free hand and inviting her to walk with him around the floor. She snorted, but followed him away from the bank of couches.

"Whatever you say, sensei," she retorted.

Across the room, Steve and Sam had finished their tournament with the veterans, conversation turning from the mundane to the details of the battle as they meandered over to the bar. As his drink was being fixed, Sam listened as Steve gave him the run-down, letting out an appreciative whistle when he was finished.

"Damn. Too bad I missed out on that battle," Sam said, scooping up his tumbler and dropping a tip in the jar for the bartender. Turning away from the bar, the pair made their way up to the upper crosswalk.

"Didn't know it was going to turn out that way. Next time, I'll bring you in," Steve told him, a chuckle at the back of his throat shading the words. Immediately, Sam held up a hand, preempting him from going further.

"No, no. That's alright, no need for that," he said, dropping his voice a couple notches and making Steve laugh outright. Dipping his chin once to the girl passing them on the stairs (pretty one, too; he'd have to find her again later), he continued, "I've got my hands full enough with tracking down the...missing person. You can take care of saving the world."

He paused at the railing then, looking out over the space. Here and there he could see the other members of the team. Thor appeared to have rallied a group of young ladies, politely stepping back every so often when one would press forward. Doctor Cho, near at hand, couldn't help glaring whenever this happened, but she was too far away for Sam to see that clearly. Tony and Bruce were off in a corner, seemingly in a serious conference. And near the windows overlooking the quinjet's docking bay, Clint and Natasha were trading words with Holly, it seemed; well, more so with each other, as the brunette appeared to be watching them go back and forth as one would watch the volleys of a tennis match. The setting in which they were all mixed, the music playing in the background, the flowing drinks and continued flow on conversation, warred so much with his knowledge of what they were capable of. He sighed outright, staring down into it without seeing.

Swallowing some of his drink, Sam leaned against the railing, inclining his head towards Holly's position across the room. "So, getting ready to be roped into more wedding stuff? How is all that going to work out, by the way, once it's done? I can't imagine you'll be staying in D.C."

A dip of the chin acknowledged the point on his friend's part, and Steve gestured with a palm up to the air.

"There's nothing definite planned yet, but moving closer to New York is something we're seriously considering."

Granted, Holly wouldn't be pleased to have to apply for a new job, which she had given him an earful about, but after a long discussion (which he did not care to repeat), they'd both arrived to the conclusion that staying put in the capital would be unnecessarily straining and stressful for both of them. Besides, she'd conceded the point that she would move under the right circumstances several weeks past, and could put up with a job search. And given how increasingly dissatisfied her boss was becoming with her ongoing notoriety, she feared such a thing would have to happen sooner rather than later, anyway.

Sam's eyebrows inclined, his tone inquisitive. "That could mean anywhere, including New Jersey and Maryland. Will any of the boros make the list? What about Brooklyn?"

Steve inhaled sharply, stopping himself short from a snort. "Even with both our savings, affording a place in Brooklyn is unlikely."

That was true. He'd already looked into it, discreetly…and she'd sneaked it into her own Internet searches too, giving him only a small smile when he noticed in pop up in the search bar. (To be fair, she's searched around St. Paul and Minneapolis as well; though not even near the coast, she couldn't help wanting to take a gander at houses, for comparison, she'd claimed). The neighborhood he'd grown up in had altered and changed with the times, including the housing prices. The average cost came around $600,000 (minimum for the smallest of places, which even after his time spent in the modern world blew his mind a bit), and he wasn't certain they would find something at that price point. More than likely it would end up being higher, and future payments, taxes, and upkeep made him nervous to think about. Renting wasn't much better, as everything was meant to be higher end by design. However, something Holly and he had agreed on was that they wanted to buy, not rent.

They wanted a home of their own. Roots, a life together in a place of their choosing.

Even with military back-pay and the gratuity pay given after the collapse of SHIELD, he was unsure that with Holly supplementing the income they could keep a house in the borough for many years. Some of his previously accrued income had gone towards veterans' associations over the past few years, so there wasn't as much to draw from as one might think. The money that remained wouldn't last forever, and he hated to say it, but with the circumstances changing, his own employment wouldn't be as consistent as it had been. And with a wedding to budget for as well…

Sam gave him a wistful look. "Fair enough, you guys will need to be able to afford a place of your own. Might as well start somewhere fresh, right?"

A place, he'd said...a home, he meant. It was a word that Steve had used so rarely in the past three years, the definition lost in time as so many other things in his life. But that didn't mean it was gone forever. He could build again, find his place. Find it with her by his side. It just took courage, strength to take the first step.

Unable to refute Sam's words, Steve just let it be, focusing on nothing but the far wall, a blur of purple dancing in and out of his notice.

xXxXxXx

Bruce stared down into his glass, the sweet and tart tastes of the Metropolitan dancing on his tongue. They mingled on the sweet and tart words exchanged with another red, her bright eyes promising and her tone true, despite the playfulness overlaying it. She never did say what she would do. Would she fight against the force pulling them together, tight concentric circles moving ever faster towards the center, or would she let herself be swept up in the tide...swept up with him? Banter aside, he did know what he wanted, what he thought was too good for him to have. But would she give in, too?

When he looked up again, to watch her retreating form as she carved a path away from the bar, he looked directly into the eyes of the captain, an unwitting witness to Romanoff's skilled flirtations and his attempts to meet her word for word. Sam, Master Sergeant Wilson, had departed roughly twenty minutes earlier, and so freed him up to wander and observe a bit more. A harsh flush invaded the doctor's face, and immediately he glanced away, ready to deny, to bury it. However, Rogers wasn't about to let the matter drop. Quickly attempting to smooth ruffled feathers and calm Bruce down, he indicated how it wasn't against any rules made by the team. It was just that Natasha seemed very comfortable with him. The tone of his voice implied more to the statement, that it was different with Bruce, that she could let herself go, sounded too sweet to his ears.

"She's like that naturally," Bruce excused, gaze dropping to his shoes and a bitter grin on his lips. He ran a hand through his rough, dark curls, the lines in his face more pronounced the more he denied it. It was just...something to pass the time. Couldn't be serious, no, no...not with him. "Flirts as much as she breathes. Nothing to do with me."

Reaching over the bar and withdrawing a bottle of beer for himself, Steve shook his head gently.

"I understand how true that is, trust me," He smirked, a flash of memory coming over him in that moment. However, in comparison to his memories, he knew that in those few precious seconds with Banner, Nat was far more genuine with him than she'd ever been with the captain, or anyone else for that matter. Far more like her true self, not the artifice she put up to throw off the world and keep people at bay until she could trust them. "Believe me, this is different."

About to walk away, Steve hesitated in his path, sighing under his breath. The uncertainty in Bruce's gaze, the troubled set of his countenance, made him want to reach out, drive his point home.

"Look, as someone who knows firsthand, don't wait too long. And second chances don't just fall off of trees," he said, glimpsing the flash of purple again as it rounded the bottom of the stairs and moved towards the lower decks. Feeling his gaze on her, Holly glanced over her shoulder, a corner of her mouth lifting before she disappeared from sight. Exhaling slowly, Steve turned a bit and nodded in the direction that Natasha had gone, sincerity coming from his core. "If you took a shot, I don't think either of you would regret it."

A second or two of silence, and then Banner dipped his chin, the message heard loud and clear. Steve didn't even glance back as he walked away, intent on his destination. With the smattering of people left dispersing, it wasn't exactly difficult to locate her. However, it wasn't her intent to lead him on a wild goose chase. Going down the short flight of stairs to the lower deck, he found her leaning against a tall table near the window, the nightlights of the city illuminating her from behind. Brown eyes were tracking him as he drew closer, mouth curving in a grin.

"Hey, good lookin'. Got a minute?" she called out, more strands slipping out of her bun, wisps of waves framing her face. Pausing, he pretended to give the matter some thought.

"I can spare a few," he responded, shrugging, to which she merely gestured him forward. Cracking open his beer, he took a pull from it, setting it down and maneuvering around the table to get near her once more. Reaching out, he trailed his palm down the exposed skin of her arm, soft and yielding to his touch. His arms encircled her, bringing her flush against his body, a slow burn crawling out and down from his heart. Hands cradled his head, drawing him down, his mouth connecting with hers. Lips parted, allowed him to deepen the embrace, the sweep of his tongue causing a tremor to rock through her. A moan reverberated at the back of his throat when she reciprocated. His grip curled into the folds her dress, his hold tightening as she popped the first button on his shirt, the pads of her fingers leaving a tingling trail along his clavicle and neck as she slipped them under the fabric. Eventually they had to slow, catch their breath, and Steve rested his forehead against Holly's when the time came, trying to not go over the edge right then and there. Though it was impossible for him to be drunk, he found moments like these to be intoxicating. Although, he couldn't deny that the stuff Thor had dripped into his whiskey earlier had a bit of a kick to it (it knocked Marty for loop, with him being assisted out of the Tower by the serving staff). Still, this was stronger.

"Doll," he breathed, the name a gentle caress over her lips.

"How much longer do you want to stick around?" she asked, her hold tightening on his shirt, tugging to bring him back for another kiss. Willingly obliging, he indulged, her eagerness driving them on for several long minutes. Coming to a stop once again, he swallowed with some difficulty, forcing himself to focus.

"For a little while, at least. Much as it kills me to say it," he said, sighing heavily. Tony had already gone around to the others, the promise of an after-party once the final guests cleared out beckoning to them. Leaving wasn't an option just yet; after all, Thor would be off-world again in a few scant hours, and nobody knew when he would be back. It would be best to spend time as a united team, for one more evening. She sighed, acceptance on her features, even if the burn wasn't remotely subdued.

"Kills me to hear it, but we'll make it," she said, tracing a pattern idly over his chest, heartbeat quickening as she did so. Gently, she tapped him, smirking. "You still owe me a dance, by the way."

Cocking his head to the right, he let the overhead sound system churn on, the tracks having switched from a funkier modern set to smooth jazz. Taking her hand in his, he began to turn them in a circle, stepping carefully, cherishing the closeness, the feel of her body as they turned, the love in her eyes as she glanced up, palm against his heart.

xXxXxXx

Sitting along the back of the couch, her feet planted firmly in the cushions, Holly rested her arm on Steve's shoulder, a bottle of cider perched in the other hand. Her fiancé's hitherto abandoned leather jacket had resurfaced, resting over her legs ("Covering the unmentionables," Tony had joked, Steve giving him a muted glower). The rest of the team had congregated there, the coffee table littered with empty bottles and even some fondue accouterments that were unused, miraculously. Helen, exhausted, was curled up in an armchair, with Barton and Maria lounging on the floor across the way. Colonel Rhodes—Rhodey, as he was called—was chatting with Stark about some possible upgrades to his armor, and Natasha was debating microbrews, of all things, with Doctor Banner. Conversation filtered in and around her, much as it had all evening, though it was at a mellower level than before. Sipping her cider, she felt much more at ease than earlier.

As Thor explained some of the properties of Mjolnir (handing off that flask of...liquor to Steve as he did so; she wanted to try it, but in the interest of not being knocked on her ass, her partner discouraged her from doing so) she listened closely, natural curiosity compelling her to ask a few questions here and there. However, his word was not meekly accepted by everyone. When Clint insisted that the hammer's immovability was a trick, the god merely raised an eyebrow, inviting him take a chance at lifting it from its perch on the coffee table.

In quick succession, the challenge was passed from member to member, Clint graceful in his defeat and opening the floor to Stark after his playful jibes. The billionaire, even when armed with a powered gauntlet and Rhodey providing an assist, could not move the damn thing, nor could Doctor Banner. When Steve's turn came, she gave a little whoop of encouragement, though she wasn't terribly surprised when he couldn't manage the task, either...however, she could have sworn she'd heard it squeak a little when he tried. She couldn't swear on it, and she very well could've imagined the flash of Thor's face falling in disbelief. When Nat refused to even consider trying to lift Mjolnir, she snickered into her bottle. For a long moment she stared at it, a question circling in her mind wanting to get out.

"Anybody could be worthy, right?" Holly asked finally, pointing at the hammer still resting on the table. Hooking a thumb at the others, she continued, "Not just the super squad here?"

Thor nodded, his face creasing pleasantly as he considered her query. "Indeed. Would you care to try?"

Her eyes went wide, and immediately she shook her head.

"Oh, it...I was just asking a question." At her denial, a couple of the others brushed off her words, insisting she give it a shot. Maria and she went back and forth about it, both insisting that the other try instead. Soon enough, she held up a hand to call a halt. Steve watched this whole exchange, arms crossed over his chest and a tiny grin on his lips. Nodding down to him, she said, "If he can't lift it, I know I definitely can't."

Holly knew herself for what she was. And while she understood she was at least a decent person, she knew she was definitely not the heir to Asgard in any fashion. No, she'd leave that to Thor, and save herself the embarrassment of sweating and pulling to no avail (or mock-roaring as Bruce did during his attempt). If her tried-and-true fiancé could barely get a wobble out of it, she knew she wouldn't do much better than he in the effort.

Tony smirked at her, eyes narrowing slightly. "Scared to step up?"

She scoffed, gaze turning heavenward for a moment. "No. Trust me, I am in no way ready to rule an entire world if I was worthy. And I know I'm not."

He sniffed. "Sounds like fear to me."

"I just know my limits, Stark." She stuck her tongue out at him then, taking a sip from her cider with little fanfare afterward. Tipping his head to the left, the older fellow conceded and let her be.

Affixing his gaze once again on the god, he snarked, "I'm sure you're right, Slugger, but the game was fixed from the get-go."

"Damn right," Barton agreed, saluting him with a tip of his beer bottle. Swallowing some of her own drink quickly, Maria pointed up at him, nodding at the captain.

"Be careful, the Language Police is right there."

The captain shot a dark look at Stark, exasperated. The joke had run its course in his mind.

"How many people did you tell about that?" he asked, brow furrowing as he faced him. Holly's eyebrows inclined minutely, her expression turning befuddled.

"Obviously not everyone," Maria muttered, noticing the younger woman's confusion. Indicating her with a tip of her chin, she waited until Rogers saw it as well. His mouth opened and closed as he attempted to form an answer, Holly's features adopting a more knowing aspect as the seconds passed.

"I...it just slipped out," he groaned, scrubbing his face in annoyance. He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever live it down.

"Uh-huh," Holly grunted, taking another sip and emptying her bottle. From personal experience, she knew Steve was uncomfortable with strong language as a rule; he had been raised not to let filthy words color his vocabulary. However, he'd grown to at least tolerate it in his adulthood, and say a few of the milder ones himself, particularly when he served overseas (it was impossible not to, at that rate). On occasion, though, he'd forget himself, let the chide out. He'd snapped at her a few times, when her curses were incredibly colorful and, in retrospect, a bit unnecessary. Still, she wasn't about to let it slide, either. Slipping down to sit properly on the couch next to him, she draped his jacket over the cushions, a mischievous gleam glittering in her eyes. Leaning in as she deposited her bottle on the table, allowing the others' louder comments to one another to shield her low tones, she murmured, "You know, the most interesting language 'slips out' of your mouth on certain occasions. Like the last time you were home, and you moaned—mmph!"

Pink tinged his cheeks as he clamped a hand over her mouth, his grip gentle but firm in not allowing her to continue spilling that secret.

"What was that?" Natasha inquired, quizzical lines decorating her brow. Steve's movements were noticed by the others now, and his face darkened a shade or two. Gripping his wrist, Holly rolled her eyes and pulled his palm away, setting it instead on her knee.

"Nothing," she imparted, attempting to hold back the laughter that threatened to spill out.

Shaking his head, Stark intentionally overlooked her explanation, and went on, warming to his theme. He posited that the handle was imprinted, protected from another lifting it due to it being calibrated to read only Thor's fingerprints. Or at least, that's what he thought the literal translation of the incantation placed on the hammer had to be.

Thor, who had been silent until that point, lifted a shoulder, his face taking on an air of solemnity. "Intriguing idea, Stark. I like mine better."

Standing, he deftly snatched up the hammer, tossing it and catching it by the handle gracefully. Spreading his arms wide, he gestured to the group as a whole, imposing and strong in the face of their sport.

"None of you are worthy, sadly."

His statement was met with a chorus of boos and denials, with Holly snorting and tossing her hair. About to simply laugh it off, she was roughly stopped. An ear-splitting whine echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls and making everyone cringe and wince. Covering her hands with her ears, she waited for the grating noise to stop, the pain ringing now.

"What in the hell..." she crowed, glancing up in time to see Stark remove his handheld from his pocket, scrutinizing it for an alarm or some other such thing in the building. Shifts and clanks of metal approached from the far end, the dim light hiding the clattering being for a few moments. Carefully, they all turned to see one of the Legionnaires, broken, oil splattering the tiles and wires pouring out everywhere. Jerking, twitching, it turned to face them, hobbling forward, its glowing eye slits and mouth jagged from hard wear and hasty assembly.

Its voice, though, was more unnerving than its motions, than its damaged appearance. It was smooth, solid...and promising something darker than any of them could have imagined.

"No," it agreed with Thor's pronouncement. "Of course you're not. Murderers can't be worthy."

A/N: ...Pardon me while I leave the chapter there.

Simon and Marty, full names Simon Lee and Martin Kirby, are nods to all three men who worked on the original Captain America comics—Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, and Joe Simon. When I first watched the movie, I was actually so happy to see some other veterans there, men who could commiserate with Steve about his past because they lived it, too.

Also tried to address the statement Cap made in the film, in regards to finding a place in Brooklyn. The housing market in New York is crazy, but Brooklyn's prices have been climbing even after the housing crisis happened. Even condos are expensive there. And for Steve not to be able to afford it would mean he either never made a ton of money while working for SHIELD or he was more inclined to give it away, since he wasn't used to having more than he needed and wanted to get rid of the excess. It makes sense to me.

I don't own anything borrowed from the MCU, up to and including dialogue. I also don't any pop culture references, such as the ones to Miss Congeniality and The Karate Kid.

Nope, Holly does not lift the hammer. Doesn't even try. Besides, how could she follow after everyone, including her super soldier fiancé? I know I wouldn't.

Things will be vamping up now, I believe.

Thanks for reading, please review, and I'll see you all for the next one!