Chapter 7

November 28, 2013 – Stark Tower

She arrived at Thanksgiving dinner sweaty, frazzled, and very late, carrying an overtired and unhappy Maggie on one hip. The party was being held in one of Stark Tower's "commons" - classy and ultra-modern, all multi-leveled glass lofts and mellow jazz coming from invisible speakers. Looking down from the balcony where she'd come in, Stevie saw SHIELD agents, Avengers and Stark Tower employees all gathered on squared-off couches and stiff armchairs, chatting with plates balanced on their laps. Maggie let out that special whine that meant she was on the point of crying and Stevie bounced her until she subsided with a sniffle. She'd been hoping to make her excuses quickly to Tony and get out of there, but of course he was in the center of everything, handing out beers and cracking jokes. She sighed.

As soon as Stevie had made it to the bottom of the stairs, Pepper appeared at her elbow.

"Sorry I'm late," Stevie said, shifting Maggie from one hip to the other. "I also didn't bring the rolls I signed up for."

"Don't worry about it." Pepper said. "That's why they call it 'pot-luck' not 'pot-plan'. Natasha told me what happened. Talk about a job gone bad."

"You can say that again."

Dr. Sana Amanat, SHIELD defense expert and Nobel Prize winner, was set to give a speech at her alma mater, Brooklyn College. Stevie was doing double duty – making sure nothing went wrong and warming up the crowd with her "local girl makes good, saves world" story. Ironically, the public speaking part was what she'd been the most nervous of - addressing people as "Captain America" made her feel like she was back on stage in the USO, selling war bonds with the dancing girls.

The speech had gone fine, at least Stevie thought so. But on the way back their car had run over a spiked strip, and a gang of mercenaries had tried to kidnap Dr. Amanat. Thank heavens Natasha had been in the car as backup.

Natasha herself was sitting on a couch next to Bruce Banner, beer in one hand. In the time since they'd both made it back to the Tower, she'd somehow been able to change into a black cocktail dress, do her makeup and style her hair.

I guess a quick change is a good skill for a spy. Stevie was pretty sure she smelled like smoke bomb fumes, and she definitely had spit-up on her shirt.

"I'm afraid I can't stay," she said. "Maggie's teething. She woke up when I got back and refuses to go down. I think she's worried I'll leave again if she takes her eyes off me."

Maggie rubbed one eye with a chubby fist and pressed her face into Stevie's shoulder.

"That's perfectly..."

"What's this? Can't stay?" Tony had somehow reached the two of them while Stevie was distracted. "Can't stay for Thanksgiving? How...un-American."

He held his arms out to Stevie. "Come on. Let uncle Tony try."

"I don't think..."

"Gimme, Rogers."

"Alright." On your own head be it.

Stevie started counting silently as she deposited the sticky toddler into Tony Stark's arms. Maggie started to squall before she had reached seven.

"Hey," Tony said gently. "It's okay, Mags. Look, it's Uncle Tony. I'm a fun guy. Oh, jeez..."

Maggie's cries cut through the saxophone and bass, prompting sympathetic looks from Stevie's assembled coworkers. It occurred to Stevie that most of them didn't have children. Which was starting to look like it had its perks.

Bruce set his glasses on the end table and levered himself from his couch. "Let me try."

Tony handed over the angry Maggie with barely concealed relief. Stevie took a half step toward him, but Bruce had obviously held children before. He cradled her against his chest and began to sway from side to side, humming tunelessly as he moved back to his couch in the corner. Maggie's wails subsided to whimpers, then sniffles, then she just rested against his chest, blinking out at the world as he murmured something soft and low.

Stevie exhaled a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

"It's like defusing a bomb," Tony muttered.

"You got that right." Stevie looked down at her rumpled, sweaty t-shirt. "Ugh. Should I change?"

"Nonsense," Tony scoffed. "This is family. Sit down anywhere. I'll get you a plate. The works?"

"Please."

She let herself collapse into a cream-colored armchair – fortunately, softer than it looked. While it was hard to make her tired, the constant alertness demanded by parenthood left Stevie profoundly weary. Some nights, she'd wake up, heart pounding, and have to watch Maggie breathe before she could go back to sleep. The last time she'd felt like this, she'd been in an active combat zone.

"Hey, soldier." Natasha sat down next to her and handed her a coke. "Cheers."

"Cheers." Stevie hadn't realized how thirsty she was. She drained half the bottle in one long gulp. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Natasha said with her usual half smile.

Stevie glanced almost involuntarily over her shoulder, where Bruce was leaning back against one arm of the couch, Maggie with one round cheek squashed against his chest, her eyes shut.

Natasha followed her gaze. "He's very good at controlling the change, you know," she said softly. "Besides, the main threat at a Thanksgiving dinner is awkward conversation. That's never brought out the other guy before."

"I wasn't worried," Stevie replied, only half a lie. She was always worried about Maggie to some degree. Handing her to a man who occasionally became a ten-foot green juggernaut was an exercise in trust. "I'm amazed. It's been less than five minutes and she's asleep. How?"

"Sheer boredom," Tony interjected, handing her a plate. "It's an effect he has on women."

It looked like Tony had brought her one or two of every item on offer. Stevie only recognized about half the food in the precarious heap, but right now she was hungry enough to eat anything. A metabolism four times faster than the average human was a blessing and a curse. She could barely keep herself from licking the plate.

"So," Natasha murmured when Tony had moved away. "Are you going to take the job in DC?"

"I think so," Stevie responded. "I haven't really decided. I mean, I've always lived in New York. Except for when I was in some Belgian forest, but...New York is home, you know?"

Being out in the city was like a thousand tiny cuts. She'd gone for a walk in Bryant Park, and for a second she'd been back in 1934 at the Macy's parade, watching Micky Mouse float down the street, Bucky asking her if she needed a box to stand on. The truth was, she was an exile. She could never go home. Her home didn't exist. It would be better to live somewhere that wasn't so full of memories. That was where the job came in. Nick Fury had offered her a consultant position at the Triskelion, SHIELD headquarters, in Washington DC.

"Free childcare, great pay, and your tactical know-how could be of use to SHIELD teams around the world, even when you aren't in the field yourself." That was how he'd put it. And it sounded great – except…

Stevie looked at Tony, circulating with the guests, getting food for people, ordering JARVIS to change the music so he and Pepper could dance. He didn't really have a family. For a long time he hadn't had many real friends. He'd loved being able to play uncle to Maggie, to get her outlandish gifts and goof around. To have a friendly neighbor. A living connection to his father – the only one he had left.

"Living rent-free in Stark Tower is pretty great," Natasha continued, watching Stevie sidelong with those inscrutable eyes.

"I'm not gonna lie about it." It was like the palace in Beauty and the Beast - invisible servants really would tend to your every need. "JARVIS starts my coffee exactly five minutes before I wake up every morning, which is nice."

But at the same time, she felt like a bean in a hatbox, rattling around her huge suite. And Maggie...she needed to grow up somewhere normal. Well, as normal as the daughter of Captain America could get. Somewhere with other children, at least.

There was a lull in the conversation, and, as if intentionally, the door at the top of the stairs opened to Nick Fury, director of SHIELD.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "When a routine escort mission turns into a hostage situation, someone has to do the paperwork."

He gave Pepper a one-armed hug, before handing her a box. "I brought ice cream cake."

Cheers from the other guests were quickly shushed by Bruce, who pointed frantically at the sleeping child on his chest.

Fury made his way around the room, getting a plate, greeting the guests. There was something strange about him that Stevie couldn't place, until she realized he wasn't wearing his black trench coat and shoulder holster. She'd never seen him so dressed down. Does he wear jeans on his days off? She wondered. Does he have days off?

Natasha excused herself to return to Bruce on the couch, and Nick Fury took her place with a sigh.

"Sorry about the paperwork, boss," Stevie said.

"It's Murphy's Law, Rogers," he said. "If something can go wrong – it will." He paused to eat a roll. "So, have you given the job more thought? Are you in?"

Stevie looked around the room. On the couch, Bruce had just said something to make Natasha laugh. Tony took Pepper's wrist and swung her into an impromptu waltz in the open space between two love seats, while Dr. Rao earnestly explained something to a young SHIELD scientist using beer bottles and napkins as props. She felt...home. Not in this place, but with these people. She didn't have to hide in the tower. She could go out into this new world. Because they would still be with her.

"Yes," she said. "I'm in."

On the fifth day of Christmas, sweet Thirdcrow gave to me...the final chapter(s) of this story!

What? You say. Already? Yes, sweet reader. Don't fear, I'm already at work on Winter Soldier...which means it will be finished sometime in 2018. No guarantees on when...

Bruce Banner's uncanny ability to calm babies is based on my friend Jarrod S., who has demonstrated this real-life superpower with both my children. That's why he's their godfather!

The kidnapping of Dr. Amanat comes from the comic "Captain America: Homecoming".

As always- let me know what you think of the chapter!