The two weeks went by quicker than Steve thought would be possible. While there was a lack of HYDRA insurgents to deal with, he did have the matter of training the new recruits. While he had worked with Sam before, and obviously Nat as well, it was a shift in gears to include Wanda and Colonel Rhodes into the fray. Fighting styles and strategies had to be adapted and changed, as the girl's powers were still developing (the Vision had confirmed as much, supposing that as long as she lived, they would alter and grow accordingly). Including the android was another step further. It was quite a change, adjusting to training without Tony's snark, or Clint's muttered retorts, but the challenge was met with gusto.

Before he knew it, he was leaving the base, back to New York City, to prepare for his last night of being a single man. Holly had preceded him down on Thursday night, meeting her family at the airport and getting them all settled in the hotel. A last-minute bridal shower was had that evening, with Natasha and Wanda in attendance, as well as a few of her friends from D.C. He chose to leave early in the morning on Friday, meeting her directly at the city hall to obtain the marriage certificate. After much waiting (and inevitable recognition, which resulted in several pictures with the others in line who wanted a moment with Captain America), and with the production of the necessary papers, they had it, ready to be signed after the ceremony the next day. From there, they went to Fort Hamilton, the chapel and the community club their chosen venues. Some set-up needed to be done, and the minister had gathered them and the rest of the bridal party for the rehearsal. Some of the soldiers at the fort had wandered by, the prospect of the great American hero and his bride choosing it for their wedding intriguing. As per an arrangement to have a wedding there on short notice, and in June, Steve and Holly agreed to having the ceremony projected on a live feed to the soldiers and officers, as well as inviting a select number to be a part of the reception. They had conceded on the terms, though it did make them have to reconfigure placements and such; it was the best they could get on such short notice, and they were unlikely to get a better deal than that, unless they waited longer. Already neck-deep in the plans, Holly had consented to the idea—leaving Steve to reconsider the security detail they would no doubt need.

Once the rehearsal had been done, and dinner with the bridal party had been finished, it was time for the fun to begin. Or so Sam had promised; he had taken to his role as best man, and was eager to get into the thick of it. They went their separate ways from the ladies, meeting with the others in front of the Tower. Holly's brother Hank, acting as the other groomsman, had gone with them, speaking to Sarah's boyfriend Aaron (who was still somewhat in a state of shock that he merited an invitation to the bachelor party; Sam had met the guy, and figured there would be no harm in having him come along since he'd be up for the wedding, anyway). Stark was waiting for them, along with Rhodes and Pietro, who had just managed to arrive an hour or two earlier. Straight off the plane, he'd gone into the city, joining them for the camaraderie. A ball cap was crammed onto Steve's head as they climbed into the limousine the billionaire was allowing them to borrow, the word "groom" stitched across it in white letters. He gave a faux grimace as the others ribbed him for the new attire—especially given the proclivity of the team to favor that particular garment in public—but the tiny glint of humor in his eyes could not be subdued. The lights and sirens of the city were muted as they were whisked down the streets, curious onlookers watching as they passed by.

"So what do you have planned for us, O Winged One?" Tony asked a few minutes into the drive, after Wilson had given the driver the address of their destination. Opening a side panel, he went straight for a bottle of scotch, small tumblers passed around and the amber liquid splashed into the glasses. A swift toast was made, the fellows all taking healthy drinks from their cups in honor of the occasion. Tapping a finger on his knee, he continued, "I know more booze is a given, despite a certain person's permanent and burdensome sobriety."

Steve rolled his eyes to the ceiling of the limo. "Said person hasn't gone deaf in the last ten seconds, Stark."

"Still, it's time to tell, Wilson. Whatcha got planned?" Tony demanded again, his wonderment not in the least restrained. The others looked from the billionaire to the master sergeant, waiting on the answer.

"Oh, you'll see. This is just part one of the night," he told them all, making Steve swallow nervously. Part one? How long did they intend to make this night? What did Sam have up his sleeve?

"Oh, Lord," Rhodey murmured, taking another long sip of his scotch. Sam snickered at that, following suit.

"Don't worry, part two is going to be pretty tame in comparison, but this won't be so bad, I think."

Approximately fifteen minutes later, they were deposited down the block from their destination, pouring out onto the teeming sidewalks of Manhattan. Weaving through the people, they narrowly avoided any collisions as they followed Sam's brisk pace. Soon enough, they were coming to a halt in front of a wide-set building, lights flashing onto the street. Stark raised an eyebrow, looking at Sam as though he'd lost his mind.

"Laser tag? Really? What, are we ten?" scoffed the billionaire as he tilted his head back to look up to the darkening sky. Aaron's apparent excitement was not dampened in the least by Tony's proclamation; rather, he pumped a fist in the air and grinned widely at Pietro, whose face was cross between confused and intrigued. Steve brow furrowed, shooting looks between the two but keeping his questions to himself for the time being.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Did they even have laser tag when you were ten, Tony?"

"Well...no, but my point still stands," Stark countered, coloring a little. Gesturing to a good majority of the men, he pointed out, "We've all seen real combat before. Why would we want—"

"Scared to lose to a bunch of people who actually have the training to hit a target without a guiding system?" snarked the master sergeant, a low chorus of "oohs" following his challenge (some of them from passersby). Behind Stark, he caught the smirk Rhodey swiftly smothered, his hands going into the pockets of his leather jacket and his eyes diverted to the ground. The two civilians of the group, Hank and Aaron, said nothing, but the glance they shared spoke volumes. Tony's eyes narrowed at the implications, and a finger jabbed in Sam's direction.

"Oh, you're on, Bird Brain," he snapped, shoes ringing against the pavement as he strode past him, up to the double doors of the place and practically throwing them open to go in. Sam crossed his arms over his chest, a look of smug satisfaction on his face, while the others either sported looks of incredulity or resignation (depending on the person).

"This is gonna be fun," Rhodey muttered aloud, casting a glance at Sam before following his friend through the double doors. The sergeant smiled as he made to follow the colonel, the others trickling after him. The dispute resolved (or at least put aside), Steve merely frowned, a curious look crossing his face.

"So, what exactly is laser tag?" he wondered, darting a glance at his soon-to-be brother-in-law. Hank just chuckled and gestured for him to go ahead. Aaron, sensing the real confusion in Steve's tone, took it upon himself to explain the game, its mechanics and its typical goals. Evidently, players were divided into teams, strapped into vests with sensors in them and given "guns" to shoot with. One would score points against another player when they were tagged, the sensors in the vest locking them up and making them unable to continue with the game for several seconds. Sometimes targets would be implanted in walls and obstacles to help with racking up points. As he concluded, the team with the most points by the end of the round was the winner. It was just another modern marvel that the captain had not yet experienced, and though it sounded a little juvenile, it had the potential to be entertaining, at least. It wasn't like he had to be serious all the time. This was a chance to have a good time, after everything that had gone before.

Maybe that was why Sam had chosen that as the first stop for the night.

Speculating on who they would end up playing against, Steve felt himself stop short upon hearing familiar voices in the lobby. Familiar female voices. As one, he and the others glanced over at the group of girls gathered by the far wall. A svelte redhead was in low-voiced conference with an auburn-haired girl, her wide green eyes widening as she spotted them over her compatriot's shoulder. Jerking her chin up, she caught the attention of the others nearby, a young woman with almond-shaped eyes and blue hair tied back holding back on a sudden upsurge of laughter. Two brunettes came from around the corner, on their way back from the bathrooms, one of them stopping in her tracks as she spied the new arrivals. Steve blinked.

"Holly?" he breathed, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. It was indeed his fiancee standing there, a white ball cap proclaiming her as the bride on her head and her dark eyes widening at the sight of them. Her companions, including her sister and rounded off by Wanda and Natasha (the former brought by the latter, as a way to get the girl ingratiated and attempting to build something of a rapport between her and the captain's wife), watched curiously as the men began to approach them. What were they doing here?

"Sarah," Holly said her friend's name, eyes cutting away and the blonde in question grinning widely as she came up behind her. For her part, Sarah just sidestepped her, going up to Sam and bumping her fist against his. "Sam?"

"It was easier to do this, given how you two are acquainted with a lot of the same people," Sarah explained. Truly, it was; she and Sam had been stuck trying to figure out what to do for their friends on such short notice, and in the end, they conferred over making the night a partially joint venture. "Don't worry, I've got something else on the docket for just the girls after this."

"Didn't say I was worried, I just wanted to understand the reasoning," Holly retorted, cupping the air with her hands and rejoining the group. The gals began to intermingle with the guys, Wanda going immediately to her brother and hugging him in hello. Kay Szymik threaded between people, quiet greetings on her tongue as she watched Sam cut his way through to the proprietor's desk. Hank and Heather were quick to discuss the state of their children, asking one another if their parents had checked in with them yet while they watched over the little ones (Heather's husband was unable to make it out, and their littlest boy had stayed with him). Striding toward her fiancé, Holly's hand slipped into his, squeezing it gently.

"This is...gonna be interesting," she intoned lightly, nodding to the assorted members of their parties. Following her gaze, he canted his head.

"Yep," he agreed, a half-grin on his lips and his fingers tugging playfully on the bill of her cap. Before she could retaliate, the slap of clapping hands caught their attention, the milling the room dying down. Sam and Sarah stood in front of them all, the first ones kitted out in the gear the rest of them would get for the game.

"Welcome to the opening event of the Night Before...laser tag," Sam announced, a couple whoops echoing after that. "Bride's team versus groom's team, winners take all."

"All of what?" Kay asked, gaze flicking between the best man and maid of honor.

Sarah smiled and shrugged. "The pride, the glory...the ability to say you wiped the floor with Captain America and his squad of super-dudes."

A few vocal objections from the group of males floated up at that, while the girls seemed to have gone quiet with consideration. Holly tilted her head, sizing up her fiancé and his friends for a moment.

"...I'll take it," she said eventually, nodding in brisk agreement with her own statement. Steve, for his part, snorted and shook his head.

"Love you, too, honey."

At that point, the proprietor did step forward, going over all the rules and regulations of the game, as well as of the space they would be playing in. When his speech was eventually finished, vests and guns were passed around. They did not all fit properly, but they would make due with what they had.

"I'm calling it right now: no enhanced abilities," Stark said, tipping his head towards the twins as they suited up. "You want to play, Maximoffs, you play by the rules."

Pietro groaned loudly at that, his eyes rolling. Gritting her teeth for a moment, Wanda squared her shoulders, darting a look to her brother before answering. They still were not on overly friendly terms with the billionaire, but they could at least tolerate the request he made.

"Fine."

With all the players ready, they were given the chance to enter the wide facility, vests lighting up as they went in. It was a veritable maze of walls and platforms, multicolored lights disorienting them in the filtered darkness. Any attempt to put a tactical plan into place would be futile, Steve noted, especially when his team darted off in different directions. Instead, he and Sam shared a look of commiseration and silently agreed to stick near each other. A siren sounded, indicating the start of the game, and right away, they broke into a run, dodging the shots fired at them.

Already having put some distance between himself and the front door, Tony was actively ducking as the lights began to change and the game began. However, it seemed that luck was not on his side that night. Attempting to do his best to keep up with Rhodey—timing his shots expertly before sliding under an opening in the platforms and losing him—Tony had fallen against a far platform, hit three times in as many minutes. With the vest vibrating against his chest, his dark eyes shot around the space, the sudden roll of a person near him making him yelp and jump back. Smirking, the redhead at his feet pointed her laser gun at him, trigger squeezed and reigniting the vibrations once again.

"Damn it all to hell," he groaned, tipping his head back against the wall behind him. "You're vicious, Romanoff."

Her blue eyes glittered in the low light as she mimed blowing smoke off her gun's barrel. "You say that like you don't know me at all, Tony."

He raised an eyebrow at her, his expression all but promising retribution. Swiftly she sprang away, getting a good head start in before he would choose to follow. Minutes passed, with the electronic pings and crashes of the weapons being registered, the clattering rattles of walled targets being hit mixing with the excited cries of the teams. Despite himself, he found himself hooting and grinning widely. It was pandemonium, madness...it was better than he thought it would be.

On the far side of the course, Steve and Sam were making a sweep down the center, watching the shifting shadows carefully. Their area had gotten far too quiet, and it disconcerted them. With a single nod, the captain shuffled sideways between two platforms, looking for a possible assailant hiding nearby. Sam move forward, still taking point and keeping an eye out for any assault that could come. He breathed in and out, the green and yellow of the lights interspersing with white pinpricks. Suddenly, his vest's speaker reacted violently, the sound of a direct hit pumping out of it and making it vibrate.

"What the...how did I get hit?" he grumbled, looking down at the offending article with distaste.

"Gotta be more aware of your surroundings, soldier," called the attacker, her voice trembling with laughter. Glancing behind him, in the flashing lights, Sam caught sight of her. It was that one girl from earlier, an agent friend of Holly's. Her blue hair was slipping from its bun, and her dark eyes sized him up. He blinked, a little taken aback by the woman's appearance and bold wink.

"How did I not see you?" he asked her, an outright giggle her only response before she disappeared around the corner. His vest, by that point, had stopped vibrating, allowing him to proceed with the game as before. After a moment, he shook his head, careening around the corner where she had gone in an effort to retaliate. He chased her for several minutes, barely managing to dodge the next few times she fired back at him. She was fast, he could admit that much, but she wasn't faster than him. Catching her before she could get around another corner, he boxed her in with his arms, her giggles petering off as he held his gun to her chest. A well-shaped eyebrow shot up, the strands of her hair falling into her gaze as she all but dared him to take his shot. Faltering, Sam sucked in a breath, watching her eyes widen at the prolonged silence between them and he continued to look at her. Soon enough, she ducked under his arm, away from him, a knowing glimmer in her black eyes and a grin upon her lips as she slipped into the shadows again. A tap on his shoulder jarred him, and before he could reflexively fire, Sam glimpsed Steve's hand waving for him to follow again.

While the object of the game was to target the opposing team's players, it could not be said that one or two of the individuals did not have personal targets of their own. In particular, the siblings of each outfit had made it their goal to take the other ones out. In the case of Wanda and Pietro, it was more of an even match, but Hank never stood a chance against his two sisters when they decided to team up. At one point, he was so desperate to escape them and save himself that he'd been wedged into a corner, firing at whoever approached regardless if they were on his team or not (it was how he'd gotten Aaron, who had just shot him back afterward). More shots fired, rang out, the space filled with shouts of victory and crows of defeat. And in a moment, it was all over; the lighting dimmed, the vests shutting down and the florescent beams from high above told them that it was time to exit the space.

Once the gear was removed and returned, the teams gathered near the leader board, the proprietor standing beneath it as it tallied up the scores. The chattering between the two parties picked up, both sides comparing notes about how they did against one another. Holly and Steve brought up the rear of the group, looking on as they mixed and mingled once again. Her brother and sister were just ahead of them, discussing the tactics they'd employed during the game. In the middle were Sam and Kay, significant glances thrown at one another. Picking up a microphone, he tapped at it once or twice to garner their full attention.

"Highest individual score goes to...Player Five," he announced, a whoop of support going up from the women. Natasha saluted them all with her fingers, claiming her triumph gladly.

"You're lucky Barton wasn't here for this, Nat," Tony muttered out the corner of his mouth, knowing just how many of the points she'd racked up had come from targeting him relentlessly.

"You're not bringing down my victory," she replied, cheerfulness in her tone for the first time in a long while. Noticing it, Stark did no more than lift a shoulder and smirk back at her, pleased to see her mood improve even the slightest bit.

"And highest overall score goes to..." the fellow drawled, stretching out the tension of the moment as the screen above him fluttered with more numbers. As the digits settled, he cried, "It's the groom's side, by a very narrow margin."

The margin was fairly narrow; all in all, the teams were actually well matched. And despite not being ten-year-olds, the guys cheered quite loudly at their victory, the groom a little less so as he watched his bride's expression change. Catching him staring out the corner of her eye, she flapped a hand in the air, brushing off the disappointment of losing; she prided herself on at least getting her brother a few times, and she did manage to clip her fiancé once as well. She chalked that up as a win in her book.

"Fair play, babe," she said after a couple seconds, stretching up to give him a kiss on the cheek. The chorus of mocking smacking kiss noises and low cheers made her question the age of the guests in that moment. Steve's cheeks were pink as she pulled away, his arm wrapping around her and pulling her close despite the teasing.

"Aw, you two are so sweet, I'm getting cavities," her brother crooned, rolling his eyes at both of them.

"Shut up, Hank," Heather said, socking him in the arm. His next words were cut off by the spluttered groan he gave at being punched, and in turn she merely smiled sweetly at him. "Act your age."

Night had fully fallen by the time the men and women exited the laser tag arena, the winning team sporting certificates (cheap, printed things, but they still were a symbol of achievement). Good-byes and well-wishes passed between them as they parted. The ladies had turned left out the door, cabs to be hailed to take them to their next venture, and the guys' limo had pulled up from around the block, ready to take them away. With the members of the opposite parties ringing around the bride and groom, focus upon them, they did not notice the stragglers falling behind. Kay, tucking back the hair that had fallen loose from her bun, had an expression of supreme pleasure on her face, pocketing a pen she'd nicked from the desk and sauntered after Holly and her group. The master sergeant trailed out behind her, his certificate turned over to reveal the tidy scrawl on the back. Carefully punching in the written number into his phone, he tucked both the device and paper into his pocket, smirking slyly to himself as he jogged to catch up with the others.

xXxXxXx

Just as Sam had promised, the second half of the evening's activities was more low-key, but by no means was it unwelcome. While they were out, a crew had gone into the Tower (the Vision was there, tapped into the security systems and watching them with an eagle eye) to set up a proper card table on the guest floor. The normal sitting area designated for the guests of the Tower had been transformed, accommodating the table. Chips were perched in the carrier atop the green felt. Some tumblers had been arranged in the holders, the radio churning out contemporary jazz. Stogies were set at each place along the table, ready for the men to partake as they chose. Off to one side, a drink cart was deposited, erasing the need to go upstairs to pilfer from the bar. Upon their return, the fellows noted the change with satisfaction, and Steve obliged Sam in a celebratory fist bump as the others sat down in the rented leather chairs. The android was invited to partake, but he politely declined and left for the lower levels of the building, taking his security duties for the weekend rather seriously.

"Poker and whiskey," Rhodey said, warm approval in his tone. Picking up a cigar, he lit it with alacrity and settled back in his chair. "Now this is a good choice."

"Thank you," intoned the master sergeant humbly, grabbing the packet of cards and opening it. Swiftly he shuffled them, dealing them with ease for five-card draw. His phone buzzed in his pocket just as he shilled out the last cards to everyone, but he waited to look at it until after he anted up. "Let's get started."

A few hands were dealt, pots contributed to and won, each of them ribbing Steve in their turn about tying the knot (or the noose, as one of them so helpfully put it), him chuckling and taking the remarks in good stride. At one point, a window had to be opened to let the waft of cigar smoke out of the room, but more drinks and hands were played, and in general there was a good buzz of camaraderie had by them all.

"Anything else planned for tonight?" Tony asked when his turn to act as the dealer came. Dark eyes flicked up, the hooded gaze revealing nothing as he looked at Sam and slid the cards across the surface of the table. "Just curious."

The other man inclined his head, taking his phone out again as it buzzed. Answering the message, he barely glanced up at Stark when he answered. "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know..." the billionaire trailed off, facetiously turning the thought over in his mind. "Maybe something of the scantily-clad, dancing girl variety? Lap or pole dancing being the captain's choice, of course; I'm good with either. "

It wasn't the first bachelor party that Tony had ever been to; it certainly wasn't the craziest one, that was for sure. Granted, there was little that could be done in the time-frame that the bride and groom had given their friends to work with (weekends away were out of the question), but in his experience, certain things generally happened at those sorts of shindigs. The fact that, so far, there was no hint of such a thing happening, had him puzzled. A couple of the guys perked up at the mention of such an occurrence, but it was the knowing glance shared between the captain and his best man that Stark was watching for.

"If you're that hard up, then A) you can head to the strip club on your own, and B) you really need to have a talk with your girlfriend," Sam responded lightly, a small wave of chuckles bouncing around the group.

"Is a fair question," Pietro piped up, coming to Tony's defense for the first time. When the genius chanced a glance at him, he shrugged, removing a single card from his hand for replacement. "I was curious, too. American movies about these things usually show that happening."

"This ain't exactly a movie, is it? Big difference between expectations and reality, kid," Sam cut in again, flicking his gaze up from the cards to Pietro momentarily. A shoulder lifted as he discarded two, replacing them with others from the deck and tapping the table twice in check. "Besides, the idea was vetoed from the beginning."

All eyes shot up from their cards, staring down the captain in question. He considered his hand for a few seconds, the color slowly flooding his face as he toyed with a card or two. Exchanging three for new ones, only when he had organized his hand did he look up. The expression on his face was unapologetic, his mouth set in a grim line as he examined his companions closely. At the opposite end of the table, Hank's eyes narrowed, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

"I don't know if I should like you more because of your loyalty, or be pissed because of the lack of hot girls coming around here," he pronounced carefully, leaning his elbows on the edge of the table. Hazel eyes met blue, unwavering even as an eyebrow raised in question. Subtly, the brunet man nodded to the blond, the smirk blooming fully as he took another look at his cards and the pot in the middle of the table.

"Whatever suits you best, Hank," Steve replied, a few huffs passing between the guys as he gestured for Aaron to take his turn. He'd made very few demands in regards to what he wanted to do that evening, but that was one of them. He had his reasons, and he would not be shamed for putting his foot down. He hunched his shoulders lightly as he noted the halfhearted glares shot in his direction and rolled his eyes. "Whine about it all you want, guys, it isn't going to change. Whatever you fellas want to do with your time after this is your own affair."

The tone brooked no argument, and after a moment, Stark merely canted his head to one side, letting it go. The subject had been brought up more to get a rise out of the captain, and once that had happened, it was time to move on to the next topic. Quiet descended upon them, the only sounds coming from the radio and the chink of the chips as they landed in the center of the table. That, and from Sam's phone buzzing once again, a look of humor and something deeper coming into his eyes as he read the message there.

"So strip club after, then?" the young Sokovian man interjected then, pushing some of his silvered hair out of his face. "In the interest of educating me on American expectations?"

The crack of Steve's hand slapping against his forehead mixed in with the chatter as it resumed. New plans formed, with some of the guys agreeing to take the older Maximoff and others crying off. Across the table, Stark smiled broadly, glad in both his victory there and in the hand that had led him to win the pot that round.

xXxXxXx

Korea Town was bustling and thriving in the June night, a rich assortment of New Yorkers treading down its walkways. It was there that Sarah had found the perfect event for the second part of the bachelorette evening: a brand-new karaoke bar. A live DJ was spinning the hits in the corner, house music pumping out as the ladies of Holly's group entered, the full-length bar along the far wall already well into its service. They were directed to one of the private karaoke rooms, miniature spotlights swirling across the dark blue couches. One of the hosts went to work setting up the equipment for them to use, while the other took their drink orders, serving them all promptly. It took a few moments for everyone to ingest the liquid courage, but soon enough, Natasha was reaching for the microphone, thumbing through the library to find a song to sing.

One by one, they took their turns, Kay's garbled attempt at a K-Pop song—she thought she could make a decent go of it with what she'd learned from her mother, and she fared decently—was preceded by Wanda's clear soprano taking flight when she selected a Broadway tune. Holly, after downing a couple of vodka shots, accompanied her sister in a Spice Girls song, reveling in the music of her childhood and bopping along to the beat. Dutifully, she limited her intake of alcohol, as she didn't want to show up to her own wedding ceremony totally off her face, but in the meantime she was having fun. A few rounds of music went by, each ending with massive applause and many whoops from the fellow party-goers, they hit a lull in the festivities. Natasha, noting how her drink had run out yet again, made her way out of the room, Holly's friends from D.C. going to the bar with her. As the door swung shut, Sarah and Heather turned to her, giving her a look that made her nervously tug on the bill of her bride's cap.

"What's going on?" she wondered, dark eyes darting between them.

"We have a couple more gifts for you," Sarah said, reaching over the side of the couch and bringing up her purse. It was the bigger kind, the kind that one could carry sporting equipment in it as well as everything else she needed for the night. For the moment, it served its purpose in hiding the final presents, with her handing one bag off to Heather and the other remaining with her.

"What, the wedding shower wasn't enough?" Holly joked, taking another sip of her drink. Sarah's smile lessened, a shoulder lifting.

"You wouldn't have opened these then," she muttered. Across the room, Kay was shaking her head, biting her lip to keep from laughing at her outright and staring purposefully at the onscreen karaoke library. Her phone buzzed, her smile growing once again as she retrieved it and tapped out a message.

"Not in front of your mother," Wanda cut in quietly, giving her a look after gleaning through her powers what the others were on about. Nonplussed, Holly glanced around the room, the deadpan expressions making her feel as though she was missing something. Heather, for her part, rolled her eyes at her sister's temporary lapse.

"Holl."

"What?" she asked. Suddenly, a thought sparked across her brain, and she felt a massive blush stain her face as she realized what they were getting at. "Oh..."

"Yeah, 'oh,'" Heather laughed, pushing the gift bag into her lap. It was smaller than the one Sarah had, but they both insisted that the gifts went together. Choosing to paw through the bigger one first, Holly's gaze widened as she looked at the contents.

"You've got to be kidding me," she murmured, pushing back the tissue paper and snorting derisively. Peeking into the smaller bag, the flush came back again, stronger than before. Curiously, the other women in the room watched as she lifted out the contents, stifling chuckles (and in Wanda's case, fending off the emotional imprints regarding the young woman before her and her team leader as best she could). Red, white, and blue peeped above the edges of the paper before they were all dropped into the same bag. "Oh, you have to be kidding me right now."

"C'mon, you had to expect one themed present; look at who you're marrying, for God's sake," Heather remonstrated with her, looping her arm around her sister's shoulders and flicking a few fingers into the air. "Besides, it's just honeymoon wear. You won't be wearing it out in public."

Sarah merely sported a smarmy look, her arms crossing over her chest and her eyes reflecting nothing short of self-congratulations.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the bride-to-be mumbled, letting herself be passed from her sister to her best friend in tight hugs. She supposed that this was their way of making it somewhat like a traditional bachelorette party, since the normal fare of questionable cakes and straws were not to be had. Shaking her head, she looked to Kay as she pocketed her phone for the umpteenth time that night (she had a few queries to make in regards to that, but they could wait), ready to ask her what song she would be singing next. They had the room for two hours, and there was still twenty minutes left to kill in that time.

Some shouts and loud crashes suddenly echoed outside the door, the women within swiveling their heads towards it. Wanda got to her feet, a mite unsteadily, her palms splayed in preparation, Kay's joviality melting as her fists curled up. Holly swallowed against a dry throat, sharing a worried glance with her sister as Sarah's hand clenched tightly on her forearm. After a few seconds, the door swung open, Natasha patting her hair down as she strode in. Her clothes were slightly rumpled, but she looked no worse for the wear. The same could not be said for the string of guys who were laid out on the bar's floor, the patrons beyond looking on in horrified shock. The bartender was even frozen, his movements towards the phone clipped to the back wall paused as the Black Widow calmly exited the main room, rejoining the group of ladies she came with.

Noticing the ring of stunned expressions, she frowned, brushing a nonexistent wrinkle out of her blouse.

"Hey, the douche bag got handsy and didn't understand the word 'no,'" she explained, hooking a thumb back to a guy with a bloody nose and his body curling into the fetal position. "He had it coming. So did his friends."

After a beat or two of silence, Holly sighed wearily, grabbing the up the gift bag and pulling the cap lower on her face.

"Okay, I think it's time to go," she said carefully, a ring of nodding heads bobbing around her as she made to stand. A flurry of handbags and streaming hair cascaded through the bar, and soon enough the women were out on the street, beating a path away from the establishment and hoping to lock down the closest cab to take them all back to the hotel in Brooklyn.

xXxXxXx

"Not going with them, Sam?" Steve asked, finally removing the ball cap and scratching at his scalp. The remaining time at the poker table was well-spent, with the victor overall being Rhodey. Sweeping up his winnings, which was a good chunk of change, he decided to go out with the younger guys bent on visiting the club, his intent being to keep an eye on them. Stark, for all his teasing, declined to go, saying that he had enough woman waiting for him upstairs, and so he would go to her, now that her flight had finally gotten in. The captain himself was looking forward to getting some sleep, even if he had to do so alone that night (he would be staying at the Tower until after the wedding, when he would join Holly at the hotel).

Wilson, with his arms stretching up briefly to work out the kinks, shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. Got something else lined up."

On his way out the door, Steve paused, looking back at him and raising an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

Yet again, Sam's phone vibrated, and the secretive little smile he'd had on and off all night came to the fore. Steve eyed him curiously, the question on the tip of his tongue, but before he could say a word, his friend put away the device and squared his shoulders. Pocketing a set of keys and his wallet, Wilson moved with him to the door, abandoning the poker set-up until its removal the next day. Locking the quarters behind him, he tipped a salute at the captain, fingers tapping his temple before going into his pockets.

"Yep. See you in the morning, Cap," he called over his shoulder, proceeding to the elevator at the opposite end of the hall. Tipping his head to the side, Steve contemplated calling after him, perhaps attempting again to get a real answer out of him. After a second or two, he brushed it off. Going to the elevator bank on the other end, he felt his own phone vibrate in his pocket. Jumping slightly, he let out a breath as he dug it out. Swiping at the screen, a tired smile came to his lips as he greeted the caller.

"Hey, Holly. Everything okay?"

Having arrived safely back at the hotel, the bachelorette party had gone their separate ways, some to bed, some to check out a nearby bar, since the night was still young. For her part, Holly had gone back in with her sister, bidding her parents good night as she made her way back to her own room. From there, she had decided to call her fiancé, a little eager to fill him in on the details as she got ready for bed. Putting him on speakerphone, she went about getting things ready for the morning as he spoke, clothes set out and other bridal accouterments placed in wait. When he finished telling her about the poker tournament, she slid into her story with ease, his breaths and hums encouraging her to go on.

"...So we got out of there before the bouncer threw us out. Barely," she completed her tale eventually, sitting down on the bed to kick her jeans off. And it was barely; though the establishment would likely have been on their side, that would not have prevented them being forcibly removed from the premises. It was just better to get out on their own accord. On his end, Steve blew out a sharp breath, something of a groan following it.

"You know, I'm not really surprised. That Natasha laid the guy out, I mean," he murmured, making Holly giggle humorlessly.

"I wasn't really, either. The beer goggles must've been pretty thick for the dude not to notice that he was trying to grope the Black Widow."

Steve snorted outright. "I would say so."

"And you? Did anything crazy happen to you?" Holly asked after a moment's silence. A little spike of dread crept into her gut, which she knew was silly to have. Adopting a teasing tone, she inquired, "Did the boys get you a nice lap dance from a stripper?"

"N-no," Steve stammered, a little flummoxed. In her head, she could picture the pink tinge along his cheekbones as he protested, his hand carding through his hair. "There was no stripper. Really. I, I didn't...it wasn't...what I wanted. You know that."

That was true; like many other things with their whirlwind wedding plans, they had discussed what they had wanted out of their last nights of being single, and what requests they would make of their chosen companions. There was very little time in which to get things together, and they had to get it out of the way as soon as possible. Steve was not ignorant to the changes over the last several decades in regards to stag parties, and in fact, some things hadn't changed all that much. Before she'd even mentioned the idea of his friends possibly hiring a stripper, he'd outright shot the idea down. Though pleased by his decision (it made her feel better about requesting to not have one, either) she was a little taken aback by his intransigence.

"Yeah, I know. But, I mean, it's kinda a bachelor party staple. I, well—"

She bit her lip, cutting herself off. A thread of insecurity surged through her then; she knew what her fiancé had asked for, but would it have been followed to the letter? After all, it was typical for people to go all-out before their weddings, and maybe something last minute would have been sprung. She hated feeling that way; she trusted Steve, she trusted Sam, but a part of her couldn't help but wonder what if. As if sensing her thoughts, she heard his breathy groan and huff.

"I don't care if it's one or not," Steve told her, the irritation surfacing. Evidently, he'd been questioned about the choice more than once that night. "It's disrespectful, all around. And I...well, I have you." Another short breath, the lilt in his voice became stronger when he spoke again. "I want you, not some random stranger."

Warmth flooded through her, and she leaned back into the pillows of the wide bed, she felt her lips pull into a grin. Her heart thumped as his words wrapped around her, the desire and honesty burrowing deep.

"Steve," she replied sweetly, eyes going half-lidded, words lost to her in that moment.

"Holly," he answered, the low rumble underneath the tone not unnoticed. Her breathy hum in response made him inhale sharply. Some seconds passed, a few beats of the heart, before she glimpsed the digital clock on the nightstand and sighed.

"I suppose I better let you go," she told him, not wanting to hang up in the slightest. Plucking at the sheet around her hips, she continued, "We've got a big day tomorrow, and Peter will be here early."

Strapped as they were for time, and trying to keep a budget, the pair eventually chose a young kid from one of the boros as their photographer. Some had scoffed at their choice, but when they saw his website gallery (built by himself, as he said under his about tab), and met with him in person, the evidence before them suggested the kid truly knew his way around the camera. That, and he would work for them at a non-exorbitant price. Steve understood how important it was for young artists to get any form of exposure, and at the same time not starve to death in the process, and he was willing to take a chance on the boy, pay him what he quoted them. The kid was so excited to be covering the wedding, agreeing to take on a few extra duties for the chance to be in close proximity to heroes for a day and promising not to let them down.

Steve murmured, "That poor kid, having to jump from Queens to Brooklyn to Manhattan and back just to take pictures."

Holly cupped a palm to the air, despite knowing he couldn't see it. "He's a teenager. Load him up with sugar and caffeine, and he'll be able to fly after awhile."

"But who's going to catch him when he crashes?"

"Given that you're the stronger of the two of us, dear..." was the easy retort. Another glance at the clock, and she groaned to herself. "Anyway, I've gotta go."

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly. Shifting came on his end, settling after a couple of seconds. "Good night, doll. Wish you were here."

A rueful grin came to her lips at that. He was the one who insisted on the plan of spending the night before the wedding apart; he only had himself to blame for missing her. Then again, she'd agreed to it, so what did that say about her? Tiredness crept in, and she could barely think about anything as it was.

"One more night, babe," she crooned softly, reaching over and turning off the lamp, swathing the room in darkness. "See you in the morning."

One more night, she thought to herself after the parting I-love-yous were exchanged, nestling further under her blankets and dropping her phone next to the clock. One more night, and then everything would change again. As thrilling as that was, as scary as it was, she was glad for it, and was able to sleep soon enough.

xXxXxXx

Saturday the twentieth arrived, and all Natasha could think about was getting some coffee.

With the ceremony still not for quite some time, and given that she was not a member of the bridal party (which she was more than okay with), she could not fathom why she would willingly be waking so early. Granted, she had agreed to helping Holly with her makeup, but that wouldn't need to happen for hours yet. Shaking her head at the clock and cursing her training for making her an early riser, she rolled out of bed, meandering downstairs to see if the continental breakfast was laid out yet. Luckily, she was able to get first crack at the strong brew made by the staff, a bagel taken with her for her troubles.

Walking back to her room, she wished she could blame her groggy state on ingesting too much alcohol the previous night, but she knew for a fact that she had not had enough to get her to that point. A nice buzz, yes, but not stumbling down drunk. No, she blamed her early rising and lack of sleep on something else entirely. Approaching her door, she could hear shuffling coming from the next room over. Halting, she chose to rest against the doorjamb and wait, see who exactly it was that ended up keeping her up and shaking her awake at that hour. A couple of minutes passed before the door swept open, and Natasha barely managed to bite down a laugh as she watched Sam Wilson partially stumble out the door. Ducking his head back in for a moment, he did not see Natasha until he swung back around, adjusting the waistband of his jeans and fixing the skewed collar of his shirt. The thunderstruck expression that flashed across his face was worth waiting for, she decided.

"Well, well. Fancy seeing you here, Sam," the Black Widow purred, her bright eyes trailing over his form and a brow arching.

"I, uh...yeah," he said, scratching at the back of his neck. Flapping a hand at the door, he attempted to excuse himself. "Checked in early."

"Uh-huh," she responded, not fooled in the slightest. Looking down into her coffee cup, she swirled the liquid and murmured, "Just saying, I hope you used protection at some point last night."

His hands rose to scrub at his face, hiding the flush of embarrassment that shot through him.

"Oh, God…"

Natasha snorted, drinking some of the brew in hand. "Another call for deity. That's not new."

The rattle of the door handle made Sam bite off his retort, the girl dressed hastily in sweats and a t-shirt, a wad of dark cloth in her hand. Tucking back the stray strands of her bright blue hair, she looked up at him, a shy smile on her lips.

"Sam, before you…oh," she trailed off, catching the fast gesture of his eyes to the left and stopping herself midstream. Smoothing out her expression, she dipped her chin in greeting at the other woman. "Morning, Agent Romanoff."

"Szymik," the redhead replied, sipping benignly at her coffee and taking a bite of her bagel. For a few moments, she just stood there, snickering inwardly at the awkward discomfort in Sam's form and the mild irritation building in the fellow agent's black eyes. Shrugging her shoulders, she soon enough decided to quit stalling and leave them be. "Don't mind me, I was just going back in. Have a good morning."

Quickly, she slid her key card into the slot of her door, canting her head in farewell as the door unlocked and she disappeared behind the panels. For a moment, the pair left behind in her wake just stared after her, blinking and breathing rapidly in the space she'd left.

"I…had no idea her room was right next to mine," Kay mumbled apologetically. A part of her felt disgruntled at the knowledge; she had training as an agent, the ability to pick up on many little details that others seemed to miss. How did she overlook that one?

"Would that have stopped you, anyway?" Sam asked, the tone of his voice jovial but the wariness reflecting in his eyes. Looking up at him, Kay let a slow, lusty smile spread, sidling closer to him as she did so.

"...Nope." One hand rested on his arm, the other pressed the cloth she was holding into his grip. "Here, you might want these back."

Taking them, an end of the cloth drooped, revealing them for what they were: his boxers. Swallowing hard, he coughed a couple of times as he shifted his feet, glancing up at her. He could feel the burn in his face as he attempted to smirk, lifting a shoulder.

"And there went my excuse to come back," he jested weakly, inviting her to see the humor in it. Giggling, she reached up to pat his cheek, tilting her head to the right.

"Oh, I don't think you'll need the excuse, Wilson," she said airily, leaning up to press a peck against the corner of his mouth. He caught her as she pulled back, lips capturing hers eagerly. The response was immediate, with her mouth opening to him and letting him past as a moan bubbled up her throat. The pull of the attraction between them tugged harder, much as it had the night before. Having seen him around the base on occasion over the last couple of weeks, Kay had thought the winged Avenger was quite handsome, and wouldn't have objected to having a crack at him (a sentiment shared by more than a few of her coworkers, she'd found out). So when she was given the chance, she took it. Flirty texts evolved into an offer, one she was happy to make and he was pleased to receive. The fact that he had his own brand of charm and humorous sweetness added to the allure.

When he eventually broke away, the broadness of his smile lightened something inside her, made her return it. Oh yeah, he definitely did not need to have a prompt to see her again; she would gladly welcome Sam Wilson at any time. For now, though, he needed to go. There was a wedding to attend, and it wouldn't do for the best man to show up looking scruffy and unprepared.

"See you later?" Kay asked, leaning back against her door, her hand still on his arm. Glancing down at it, he raised his to pat it, the grin never wavering even as he stepped away.

"Definitely," he promised, heading away with a spring in his step and, she swore to God, whistling, tucking his underwear into one pocket and making her chuckle as he went. Shaking her head as he disappeared from sight, she craned her neck back, looking at the ceiling for a few moments, lost in thought.

"Wedding," she reminded herself abruptly, wrenching on the door handle and heading inside, determined to grab a couple hours' sleep before she had to start getting ready herself.

A/N: Bachelor(ette) parties abound. And yeah, I had them do something silly like laser tag, because for goodness' sake, they can't be serious all the time, and why not do something ridiculous like that after the crazy events of the last few weeks? They do more adult-like things afterward. And I honestly do not see Steve as the kind of guy who would want strippers at his bachelor party. He strikes me very much as a, "I've already got a girl, why would I need another?" kind of guy (if he gets one, I mean).

But obviously that doesn't mean I didn't intend for at least one of them to get involved in shenanigans. You go, Sam and Kay, you go. :)

It's been awhile since I've played laser tag, but I do remember the rules being pretty much exactly like the ones I mentioned for the place I went to, so I just drew on memory for that one.

The proper wedding chapter is being worked on right this very moment; I intend to get it posted in the next couple of days, barring any mishaps along the way. So double update week this week, when it does happen. Nearly there, folks!

I don't own anything from the MCU, nor any other pop culture references made. The karaoke bar is based off of MK Karaoke in Korea Town, in New York. Again, I've seen pictures, and would love to go if I'm ever given the chance!

Thanks for reading, please review, and I'll see you all for the next one. It's on the way, I promise!