Aftershock

The Completely Normal Christmas Party

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Steve

It's an unassuming envelope, addressed simply to Steve in sharpie. I stare at it for a moment. The handwriting is familiar, but I don't let myself jump to conclusions. At least, not until I get inside, slice it open with my fingernail and come face-to-face with a gaudy Iron Man themed birthday card. I flip it open. Tony's scrawled a note: "You're cordially invited to a kick-butt Christmas/housewarming party on the 20th. Be there, be square. Oh wait, that's not a threat to you, is it? Hah. Anyway, you better be there, a-hole. Party starts at 6PM. Presents not required, but I wouldn't complain.... ;)"

"Kick-butt" was originally "Kick-ass", before it was messily scribbled out. I shake my head.

I can't for the life of me figure out what changed his mind about having guests over at his new house. Though, I can't pretend I understand any of Tony's decisions. That man is an enigma, with a sharp tongue and a penchant for flirting. Plus an ego big enough to fill up one of those suits of his. Sometimes I wonder what he actually sees when he looks at me.

The only thing I do know is that I'm going to this party. Morbid curiosity, maybe.

The idea that maybe I just want to see his face again pops up in the back of my mind. I push it down, save it for later. Tony's been taking up residence in my thoughts for far too long already, I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he keeps me up at night. I like to think I'm above that.

Even though I'm definitely not.

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I knock on his door at 6:30. Normally I'd be on time or early, but this is one party I don't want to be the first guest to; the whole thing has got me on edge.

It's not Tony that greets me, it's Bruce. In all his green glory, all smiles, wrapped up in a red Christmas-themed cardigan that's got reindeer on it. He's pinching a beer between his fingers. "Steve! Hey, buddy!"

"Hey, Bruce," I say, giving him a hearty smack on the bicep. "How are you?"

"Oh, can't complain. Come in, come in."

I comply, wiping my feet on the welcome mat that definitely wasn't there last week. It looks like something a wine mom would buy— if only for the fact that it says "wine mom" on it.

"It was a surprise to get the invitation, huh?" Bruce says. "Ol' Tony's been pretty quiet these last few months. I was beginning to think I'd never see the place."

"Heh, yeah," I say. "Right."

Bruce strays from my side, giving me a pat on the back on his way past. I nod.

The entrance hall bleeds into a large living room, a kitchen, and a stairway to the second floor. It's a rustic house, built from sturdy oak beams, and Tony's populated it with his minimalist furniture. There's a good amount of people here already, filling out the space. There's Bruce, now idly mingling in the kitchen with Scott and Doctor Strange, who's practicing witchcraft to refill his drink. There's Wanda and T'challa, sitting on the stairs, engaged in idle conversation. Sam and Bucky sit across from each other on the couch, and they wave when I enter. I gravitate towards them. They both stand up to greet me.

"The man, the myth, the legend," Bucky says, giving me a firm handshake that ends up in a hearty one-armed hug.

"Buck. Great to see you." And it really is, though it's difficult to mask my surprise. I didn't expect Bucky to get an invite, all things considered, but I suppose Tony is just full of surprises these days.