This Is Stella's Reality

June 29, 2015

"Any particular reason you boys wanted me out of the compound?" I asked with a tease in my voice.

Steve and Bucky were sitting on either side of me at the same bar I had drug Bucky to exactly one year ago. They were smiling, exchanging knowing glances and shoving me from their thoughts when I tried to read them.

"Nope," Bucky hummed. "Can't think of any reason we might need to leave."

Steve grinned, "Yeah. We just wanted to spend some time with our girl."

I laughed at their poor attempts at hiding the surprise party that was surely being set up for me back at the compound. Tony loved his parties, but more than that, he loved watching the guest of honor squirm under all his torturous plans for the evening. Games, drinks, and embarrassment awaited me on my own birthday.

The bartender slid an orange cocktail towards me on the bar. I rolled my eyes at the boys and decided to let them have their fun. "So," I mused, "do we have any other plans for the evening? You both look too handsome to not have anything else to do."

Bucky was dressed in black jeans with a nice black button-up and his favorite corduroy jacket. His hair was cut, short and just the way Steve had requested. It was combed neatly away from his face, and his beard was thick and well-groomed.

Steve sat on my other side with blue jeans and a fitted white linen button-up. The sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing off his muscles that forced the fabric to strain. He had a brown leather jacket resting over the back of his barstool. His beard was growing nicely. It was thick and chocolate brown, framing his jawline perfectly.

The boys told me to dress nice. They practically begged me to wear a deep purple dress, silky and tight over the curves of my body. It shined with the light hit in just so, glowing silver as the fabric flowed as smooth as water.

I grinned, watching their expressions change as they tried to come up with a lie to tell me. "Well," Bucky sighed.

"We just wanted to take our girl out. Had to dress nice for the cameras," Steve smiled.

I laughed at them. "Steve, darling, you're a horrible liar."

He sat forward with narrow eyes, "I am not."

"You are," I grinned. "Your eyes flash, and your shoulders tense. You lean away as you begin to say it, and you have a gentle tremble in your voice as the words leave your lips."

Steve shook his head, "Not true."

"It's pretty true," Bucky admitted. He grinned back at Steve's glare. "You're just too straight-laced, doll."

"I am not straight-laced," Steve retorted.

My lips pulled into a smile, "Maybe not straight-laced. More like: vanilla."

The boys laughed, obnoxious in the otherwise quiet bar. But nobody was paying attention to us. Couples sat in booths, friends mingled at the bar, and gentle jazz music drifted from the speakers above us. It was a quaint bar, and I appreciated people keeping to themselves.

I hummed along to the saxophone line, swaying gently in my seat as the boys sipped on their whiskey. Bucky hummed, checking his watch for the hundredth time that evening. "Let's leave in five minutes."

"For what?" I teased.

Steve laughed, "Wouldn't you like to know, sweets."

My eyes rolled, my surprise party. Tony's torture would begin as soon as we got to the compound. I wondered how many people would be there. Hopefully not too many. I would be fine if it was just the team and I.