This Is Stella's Reality

April 4, 2015

Sweet jazz music sang over the speakers. I hummed along as I stirred a pot of tomato sauce. Bucky's arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me away from my work.

I smiled up at him as his hand took my spoon from me and tossed it to the counter. He held me against his chest and swayed me back and forth. The music was intoxicating, trancelike as we moved around the kitchen.

Bucky's chest rumbled as he sang along with the swinging trumpet line. There was a soft smile pulling at his features and settling relaxation into his brows.

My head rested against him, letting him guide me through the dance. He kissed the top of my head and cupped his hand around the back of my neck. "Can we have a jazz band at the wedding?" He asked.

I felt my head spin. Every time he asked some small detail about what I wanted for our wedding, my heart skipped a beat. I longed for the days of cake tastings, flower pickings, guest list making.

His hand in my hair moved to coax my eyes upwards. I peered at him through my lashes. "We can have whatever music you want, my love," I said to him.

He smiled gently, "We should probably tell the team about the elopement, huh?" I hadn't even thought of it.

I laughed; we had been so caught up in our whirlwind romance that we hadn't even told the team we wanted them to come with us to France in two months.

"They'll be down for dinner soon," he whispered into my ear. "Let's enjoy this a bit longer."

So we did; we danced as the sun brushed past the horizon and the sky became a brilliant gold that rivaled the beauty of my engagement ring.

Bucky held me firm, twirling and dipping me as the music ebbed and flowed. His arm wrapped around my back and let my head fall loosely to the evening air around us. He pressed his lips to mine and brought us back upright just as Tony and Sam came down the stairs.

They groaned, and Bucky smiled widely against my lips. I laughed and turned my head towards the boys. Sam shook his head and threw his weight into a barstool. "Can you two get a room?" He asked.

"We have a room," Bucky said coolly. "But if you can bring home a new loud and giggling girl every night, I can kiss my fiancé in the kitchen." Those two fought more than feral alley cats.

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the tomato sauce that bubbled on the stovetop. "Fiancé," Tony breathed. He grinned at us, "Stel, I remember when you were that cute, bright-eyed girl, following the team's directions so nicely." Tony paused, mischief flooding his features. "Now look at you, a Bratz doll with an ex-assassin wrapped around your finger."

My mouth moved to reply to him. But I couldn't tell if he was insulting me or praising me. Bucky didn't seem to care either way. He motioned a chef's knife in Tony's direction. There was a dangerous smile on his face, "Don't talk to my girl like that." I also couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

It didn't seem to phase Tony. He loved the attention he got, good or bad. Steve, Clint, and Natasha walked in from the training room.

Steve's blue eyes narrowed to the knife Bucky still had pointed in Tony's direction. "Everything okay in here?" He asked with masked concern.

My eyes rolled and a huff left my chest. "Is anything ever okay in here?"

Thor and Bruce walked in from the garden. They smelled sweet like rose oil and wore gently dazed smiles. Thor carried two empty wine glasses, lightly stained pink from their indulgences. They looked at us with their dopey amusement.

"Our nightly feast smells delectable Lady Stella," Thor said. His throat was thick with honey, smooth and sweet.

Bruce leaned against his arm. He looked between the group and eyed the knife in Bucky's hand and Tony's irritating expression. A smile crinkled his eyes, and his heavy laughter filled the air. "Trouble with the in-laws already, Sergeant?"