Archive of Our Own ^beta

He was running late.

Steve swore under his breath as he jogged towards the elevator. He hoisted his son higher up on his left hip, trying to keep Garrett’s backpack up on his right shoulder. His briefcase was in his left hand, pressed up against Garrett's small bum while his right held his Stark Industries photo ID.

What he was not holding was a nice, well-brewed cup of coffee, because just as they were about to leave, Garett had decided that he didn't want to wear his blue socks to daycare. He wanted to wear the red ones instead.

This wouldn’t have been a problem, except for the fact that Garett was only eighteen months old and hadn’t mastered a vocabulary of much more than fifty words, none of which were ‘I’d prefer the red socks, thanks.’ Instead, Garett had thrown a tantrum that had lasted nearly thirty minutes, until Steve had bought a clue and changed out the offensive socks for the better colour.

But those thirty minutes were now costing Steve dearly.

Normally, it wouldn’t matter if he were a few minutes late. He was the Manager of Graphic Design for Stark Industries, which was known as of one of the most employee-centered companies in the world. And, as Steve liked to remind his people, there were no emergencies in graphic design. Rushed projects, yes. Even issues that might need a few late nights or an entire weekend to fix. But there was never anything life-or-death in the world of pretty pictures.

Today, however, wasn’t normal.

His Royal Highness Thor Odinson, Crown Prince of the Scandinavian island nation of Asgard, was coming to Stark Industries with his American wife, Nobel Laureate Dr. Jane Foster. Dr. Foster was considering taking a sabbatical from Frigga Freyrdottir University in Asgard, and Tony Stark was running himself—and everyone else—ragged trying to convince her to place her awesome intellect in his hands.

Tony had decided that the best way to do that was to remind Dr. Foster about good old American hospitality. So he'd ordered a meet-and-greet first thing in the morning with all the senior staff, before Dr. Foster and Prince Odinson were taken on a tour of the facility.

And then Garett had lost his mind over socks, which had thrown off Steve’s entire morning schedule. Even though he was jogging as fast as Garett could tolerate, Steve knew he was going to be late.

He jogged out of his elevator at the phalanx that served Stark Tower's residential floors, then across the huge expanse of the second-floor lobby to the elevators that connected to the main foyer. From there he’d still need to cross that huge space to get to the next set of elevators that would take him to the rest of the building, which included the Stark Industries Child Care Centre located on the third floor. He still had to drop Garrett off before he could actually get to the meeting.

Normally the whole process took about ten minutes, which was at least seven minutes that Steve didn’t actually have. He picked up his pace.

By some miracle, the elevator was there.

“Hold the elevator!” Steve panted, hoisting Garett up again. Garett giggled and pulled on Steve’s ear to help himself balance.

“Whoa,” the guy in the elevator said as Steve barged in through the open doors before skidding to a halt on the overly-polished floors. “You’re in a rush!”

“Royalty’s arriving today.”

“Ah,” the guy said. “So that explains the general feeling of panic I’ve been sensing since I got here. James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” He stuck out his hand.

“Steve Rogers.” Steve gingerly grasped the tips of Bucky’s fingers with the hand still holding his briefcase. Then he realized what the guy had said. “Bucky?”

“Nickname,” Bucky said with a grin, and suddenly his name was the least important thing about him.

Bucky was gorgeous.

He had dark hair pulled back at the sides and fastened into a bun, leaving the rest to hang down to touch his shoulders. His eyes were a silver-grey, like the ocean in winter. He had a straight nose, wide cheekbones over a square jaw, and lips that were full and a shade of pink that Steve was immediately desperate to paint.

Or kiss. He hadn’t really decided.

The idea was shocking and Steve pulled his hand away.

You're a married man! Steve chastised himself, then blanched. He wasn’t married. Not anymore. It was amazing how he could still forget that after all this time.

“So, you work here?” Bucky said, then: “Dumb question. You wouldn’t be on this elevator if you didn’t.” He turned to Garett. “Hey little guy! What’s your name?”

“Garett,” Steve said, angling his body a bit so Garett wouldn’t be directly in Bucky’s line of sight. “He gets nervous around people—”

Garett was smiling at Bucky, fingers in his mouth, completely forgetting that he was shy.

“He’s what, around eighteen months?” Bucky asked the question while talking to Garett. “I’m right, aren’t I? You’re a really big boy!”

Garett laughed. He buried his face in Steve’s neck, before lifting it up to look at Bucky and then hiding again with a giggle.

“Are you playing hide and seek?” Bucky laughed. Steve was apparently no longer part of the conversation. “Are you hiding?”

Garett giggled again and bounced his bum against Steve’s arm.

“Careful!” Steve admonished as his grip slipped a bit. He had a sudden, terrifying image of Garett slipping from his arms and landing head-first on the solid floor.

Predictably, Garett ignored him. He leaned over until he was toppling out of Steve’s arms.

Before Steve could even gasp in horror Bucky caught him. Steve's whole-body sagged in relief.

“Hey baby! Nice to meet you too!” Bucky swung Garett into his arms with a practiced move that Steve could only gawk at. Bucky was lean and fit, and the way he held himself it was obvious that he was very comfortable in his skin. It was sexy as hell.

Bucky cradled Garett against his chest, right arm under Garett’s bum, his left wrapped around Garett’s back. Garett was laughing and batting his lashes at Bucky, clearly smitten.

The arm holding Garett was metal: a gleaming mat black with hints of gold between moveable plates. It was nearly as gorgeous as its owner.

Bucky saw him looking. “I lost it when I was deployed in the Middle East. Luckily it was on a mission with the Wakandan’s UN Peacekeeping Forces and they took pity on me. This is their tech.”

Steve whistled. “I’ve heard of Wakanda’s capabilities before, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen it. You were deployed?”

“Sergeant James Barnes, 107th,” Bucky said proudly. “I signed up right out of high school.”

“Captain Steve Rogers. I was with a team of Army Rangers called the Howling Commandos.” Steve grinned, then his smile faded. “I only did one tour before I decided that seeing good men get blown up really wasn’t my thing.”

“Having been one of those guys, I totally understand that,” Bucky said. “Getting blown up isn’t really my thing, either.”

An awkward silence descended between them. Steve cleared his throat. “It looks like Garett really likes you.”

“Is Garett your name?” Bucky smooshed his nose against Garett’s cheek, making him laugh. “Is that your name? What a nice name you have!” He looked up at Steve, and once again Steve was struck by the beauty of the other man’s eyes. “It really is a nice name.”

“He’s named after his mother,” Steve said.

“Of course,” Bucky turned back to Garett, making a funny face. “A beautiful baby like this has got to have a beautiful mother!” Garett laughed at Bucky’s antics, while Steve felt like his heart broke a little in his chest. It still hurt whenever he though of Margaret. It probably always would.

The chime of the elevator reaching the ground floor saved Steve from having to think of anything to say. “Time to say good-bye, Garett.” He reached for his son.

Bucky handed him back. “Such a cute kid. He going to the daycare centre?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed in defeat. “It’s another seven minutes from here, and I’m already late for my meeting.”

“I’ll take him.”

Steve took a step back. Immediately eyeing Bucky with suspicion.

Bucky caught Steve’s look and blushed. “Let me try that again. Hi, I’m James Barnes. I’m the new hire for Stark Industries Child Care Centre.” They stepped out of the elevator together, both turning towards the second set of elevators across the lobby that would lead to the working areas of Stark Tower.

Steve’s suspicious expression morphed into one of confusion. “Wait, you’re the new daycare provider? The one replacing May Parker?”

“That’s me.” Bucky grinned.

“But, that doesn’t make sense!”

Bucky’s grin faltered. “Why not?”

“Because you’re not a woman!”

Steve knew it was a mistake the minute he’d said it, even before Bucky’s eyes darkened to pewter with his anger.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Steve said quickly. “I just meant—”

“That women are traditionally thought of the only people capable of taking care of children?” Bucky said, eyes narrowed dangerously. “And that any man who wants to do it has to be a pedophile?”

“No,” Steve stammered, “that’s not—”

“But since it’s women’s work we don’t value it, so men wouldn’t want to do it anyway. Which forces women into that role and therefore reinforces the patriarchy, right?”

“That’s not—"

“Which, in turn, reinforces stereotypical gender roles of women as caregivers and men as incapable. Which then in turn, reinforces toxic masculinity and the worst kind of male privilege?”

Steve’s head was swimming. He and Bucky had stopped walking and were standing in the middle of the massive main foyer, right beside the line-up for the independent, free-trade coffee kiosk. There were at least fifteen people in the line watching Bucky rail against the patriarchy with open-mouthed interest.

Which Bucky was still continuing. “—And that's exactly that kind of anti-feminist, misogynistic bullshit that’s been destroying America since the end of the Second World War!”

The line burst into applause.

“I approve that message.” A young woman that Steve immediately recognized as M.J. Jones, Pepper Pott’s executive assistant, said loudly.

Steve's face flamed. “I just meant that all the other staff members are female,” he mumbled. “And I just assumed—”

“That only women could do the job. Yeah, I get that.” Bucky shook his head. “Anyway, you’re late and I’m done so I’m going to head. I’m sure you can find a suitable woman to leave Garett with when you get to the daycare.”

He stalked off, leaving Steve and Garett standing in the middle of the foyer. Except for the fact that Garett was still in his arms, Steve would’ve actually paid money for the lavish marble floor to open up and swallow him.

M.J. appeared at his side, pushing a trolley full of extremely well-decorate tea-style cakes and well-formed pastries obviously for that morning’s meeting. “I need to congratulate that man on his epic rant,” she said to Steve. “Too bad you were on the wrong end of it.” She watched Bucky stalk all the way to the elevators. “A hipster feminist with an ass that won’t quit,” she said admiringly. At Steve’s look she frowned. “I’m not ogling. I’m observant.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. He hoisted Garett up in his arms just before the baby did a face-plant in the most delicate of the pastries. “Please tell Tony and Pepper that I’m going to be a few minutes late?”

“Sure thing, Mister Rogers.” She eyed Garett. “You’re pretty fortunate that your son is being educated by such a woke daycare provider.”

“Sure,” Steve said, thinking of silver eyes darkening with rage. “Really fortunate.”

Of course, it was Bucky who was doing intake for the daycare that morning.

It made sense. Bucky was the newest employee, and intake was the best way to meet all the parents and children at once. There were already a few children in the centre being collected by Kamala Khan, one of the other providers. She was helping them ease into their day with an early morning snack. Today it seemed to be thin slices of apple and hummus.

Even though Garett had only met Bucky for a few minutes, he lit up like a mini firecracker when he saw Bucky, nearly launching himself out of Steve’s arms in his haste to get to him.

“Hey Garett! Long time no see, buddy!” Bucky scooped Garett up, and then expertly flipped him backwards in his arms, causing the baby to let out a shriek of laughter. Steve was relieved to see that Bucky wasn’t going to take his antipathy towards him out on his son, which immediately made him feel bad. He had no reason to believe that Bucky wasn’t a consummate professional.

“I’m really sorry,” Steve said as soon as Bucky’s silver eyes turned towards him. “What I said earlier was horribly sexist and terribly paternalistic and really ignorant. And while you have no reason to believe me, I promise you that it’s not the way I feel about daycare providers, or female dominated professions, or men who take care of children, or women.” He straightened his back, reminding himself that he was still a man who stood over six-foot-tall, rather than the five-foot shrimp he’d been throughout high school. Back when he’d have flattened anyone who even suggested what he’d stupidly blurted out to Bucky just before. And wasn’t that the biggest irony? The idea made Steve laugh.

It was exactly the wrong thing to do.

“Is this funny to you?” Bucky snapped. “Is apologizing to a man working in daycare beneath your dignity?”

“No!’ Steve protested immediately. “No! I was laughing because—”

“Because the idea of a male working with children is funny to you?"

“No!” Steve shouted. “No that is not what I was laughing about! Jesus Christ, can’t you just listen?" 

Bucky blinked and took a small step back. He shifted Garett to his left arm and made a face. “Okay, I’m listening.”

Steve blew out a breath, trying to pull his thoughts together quickly so he could take advantage of Bucky’s silence. “Look. I know what I said was wrong, and I’m sorry. But I wasn’t laughing about the idea of apologizing to you, or about your work.” He gestured towards the baby in Bucky’s arms. “Garett is the most precious thing in the world to me. You have no idea how highly I value the people who work here.”

This seemed to mollify Bucky as the hard lines of his broad shoulders softened. It emboldened Steve to continue.

“And the reason why I was laughing is because I used to get into fights with people about stuff like this. Like, actual physical fights with people who were sexist, or misogynistic, or racist, or homophobic, or transphobic for any other reason where they were impinging on someone else’s rights. But here I am, pissing you off for doing exactly what I used to deck other people for.” He smirked humourlessly. “Funny, huh?”

“Language,” Bucky admonished gently. His silver eyes were now viewing Steve with interest, which was a great change from the hostility of mere seconds before. “So, what were you trying to say, if you weren’t implying that men couldn’t do daycare?”

“I was honestly just surprised that you weren’t female. I’ve been taking Garett here since he was three months old, and in all that time there hasn’t been a single guy. You’re the first, and I was surprised. I have no problem with men caring for children.” He tried a smile. “I swear.”

To his huge relief, Bucky smiled back. “Well it’d be weird if you did, considering you’re half of a parenting duo.”

Steve cleared his throat. “Whole parenting duo. I mean, I am the parent. Single parent that is. My wife is dead.” He dropped his gaze.

“Oh shit,” Bucky breathed. “I am so sorry.”

“Language,” Steve said. “But it’s okay, it was a while ago.”

“Not that long ago. Not with how little this guy is.” Bucky rubbed Garett’s face with his cheek. Bucky turned to meet his gaze, and this time his silver eyes were gentle with compassion. “I’m sorry for your loss. It must have been very hard.”

“It wasn’t easy.” Steve tried to smile. He felt his eyes well up and looked away, blinking.

“So,” Bucky said after a moment. “Can I just get your fingerprint to verify drop-off?” He indicated the smooth pad on the outside of the eight-foot high clear bullet-proof glass that made up the wall surrounding the daycare.

Dutifully Steve pressed his thumb to the pad. ”Carter-Rogers, Garett Michael,” a pleasant, somewhat-robotic sounding female voice said. ”Welcome to Stark Industries Child Care Centre.

“Thanks.” Bucky shook his head with a smile as he accepted Garett’s backpack with the hand that wasn’t holding Steve’s child. “The technology of this place is amazing!”

He wasn’t wrong. The daycare compound was one of four employee-only spaces that made up the second floor. The whole of Stark Tower was built like a massive cone with a rounded tip and a portion made up of clear glass that was widest at the base and then narrowed as it went up the whole side of the building, until it ended just below the landing pad at the building’s top. The second floor covered nearly the whole space taken up by the lobby, except for a circular portion that consisted of that gigantic skylight, which made the whole floor feel that it was actually outside. The daycare consisted of a clever array of connecting walls that divided the space into useable sections, some with chairs and tables, some with cushions, some with rugs and mats, and at least two large sections for running and rough-and-tumble play. Each area had a huge selection of age appropriate activities, including musical instruments, computer consoles, sports and art supplies. There was even a water play area and a garden. Only one section was covered and totally shielded from view, which Steve knew was used for naps.

Even though the space was massive and well-lit, the children also went outside to the protected courtyard of the tower at least twice a day, and they were able to play in the child-friendly wading pool that was attached to the adult pool and the gymnasium.

Each child was given a personalized bracelet when they entered that tracked their movements to ensure no one got lost, and the whole area could be observed via video feed on the parent’s work computers. The feed wasn’t accessible by anyone who didn’t have a fingerprint registration to the daycare however, and watching the video required your finger to be pressed against the sensor pad on your desk the whole time.

The whole thing had been designed by child psychologists, experts in early childhood education and development, and security experts. Steve still couldn’t believe how lucky he was that it existed.

He just wished that Peggy could’ve known how well Tony and Pepper were helping to take care of her son.

Steve leaned in to give Garett a kiss goodbye and a murmured ‘love you’. His baby smacked him gently on the cheek and then turned back to inspecting the black and gold edges of Bucky’s arm with intense focus. “I love this place,” he said sincerely. “But honestly? I think the staff is the best part.”

“Suck up.” Bucky grinned.

“He’s so hot,” Steve moaned.

Natasha Romanova looked sideways at him then turned back to look at HRH Thor Odinson as she sipped her coffee. “You don’t say.”

They were standing in the large meeting space on one of the uppermost floors of the tower, dubbed ‘the party room,’ by the majority of the staff, as it seemed to only be used to host gatherings where food was involved. The room was located under the landing pad, so it’s massive floor-to-ceiling windows gave an incredible view of the Manhattan skyline, all the way out to Liberty Island and the New York Bay.

Steve followed Natasha’s gaze. “No,” he shook his head. “I mean, yes, Prince Odinson is very handsome, but that’s not who I meant.”

Prince Odinson was a little taller than Steve, with short blond hair, piercing blue eyes and a goatee. He was built like he wrestled bears for a living instead of helping to rule a small island nation.

“His wife is gorgeous as well.” Natasha indicated the diminutive Dr. Foster with a lift of her chin. “They’re going to make very beautiful babies.”

Jane Foster really was gorgeous. She was tiny and almost fairly-like in the delicateness of her features. She had long brown hair and deep brown eyes that nearly crackled with intelligence. She also had a 'baby bump' visible under her stylish and obviously expensive dress. If Steve’s experience with Peggy had taught him anything, he’d bet she had just finished her first trimester.

A wave of sadness washed over him as he thought about his wife and how happy she’d been at the same stage in her pregnancy. How happy they’d both been, and so blind to the tragedy to come.

“For sure,” Steve said to Natasha in agreement. He hoped his smile reached his eyes.

It was obvious from Natasha’s expression and the way she gently squeezed his arm that he’d failed, but to his relief she didn’t say anything. Steve met Natasha after Peggy died, after he’d moved back to New York and started working for Stark Industries. They'd taken an instant liking to each other and become good friends.

“So, who did you mean, if it’s not His Highness over there?” Natasha asked, “Sam?”

“I think Sam’s more your type.” Steve smirked at her. Sam Wilson was the Director of Inbound and Outbound Marketing and Steve’s boss. He was currently standing by the buffet table talking to Vice President Pepper Potts. Sam, with his broad shoulders, dark eyes, smoldering good looks and wicked sense of humour, was actually very much Steve’s type. But he knew Natasha had been crushing on him for a while, and he wouldn’t put the moves on someone he reported to, even though he and Sam were good friends. He was more than happy to let Natasha have first dibs on the very eligible bachelor. If only she would actually do something about it.

“Sam’s not your type because you’re blind,” Natasha said casually. She pulled her eyes away from the man in question. “So, who is it that’s turned your head? It’s not that new photographer is it?” She made a face.

Steve laughed. “No, it’s not Peter. He’s barely older than Garett. I meant the new guy in the daycare. Bucky.”

“Bucky…Oh! You mean James! I got him hired.” She smiled.

“You did?”

“Uh huh.” Natasha nodded. “He’s like my brother.”

Steve blinked. “Your brother? Really?”

“Same foster parents,” Natasha said in a tone that communicated ‘don’t ask.’ “He was so little and scrawny when he showed up. Such a sweet kid.” She smiled with the memory.

“Little and scrawny?” Steve thought of the man he’d met that morning; his broad shoulders and strong thighs. “He’s obviously grown a lot.”

“Well, he was only seven and I was eleven when we met. So he probably seemed smaller than he really was. I’m sure I mothered him to death when we were first put together, but we bonded. You think he’s good looking?” The side-eye was back.

Steve’s face went bright pink. “Aesthetically,” Steve mumbled. “I mean, his features are very symmetrical.”

“Yes, they are. And the colour of his eyes is very unusual. I’m sure you couldn’t help noticing.”

“They’re grey, like the ocean in winter,” Steve blurted. His face flamed.

Natasha laughed. “He’s also single and into men too, if that helps. And great with kids. But you probably knew that.”

‘Oh, I’m not interested in him,” Steve said way too quickly. “We just met.”

“Of course you're not,” Natasha agreed easily.

Steve was saved from further comment by a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Tony Stark standing there, mimosa fizzing in a champagne flute in his hand. “Steve,” he exclaimed happily. “So glad you could make it. And almost on time even though we asked everyone to be early because Royalty. But don’t worry. Pepper’s not even mad.”

“I’m sorry I was late,” Steve said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Natasha slip away towards the buffet, and Sam.

Tony’s lips quirked up. “I’m just fucking with you. Let me guess. Garett had a problem with his shirt?”

“It was his socks, actually.”

“Never mind then.” Tony waved his hand. “My baby gets a free pass.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve said, heartfelt. It wasn’t just for being let off the hook for being late.

Tony’s smile slipped. “Peggy was my cousin, but she was also the closest thing I had to an honest-to-God sibling. Taking care of Garett is the least I can do.” There was a heavy moment between them as they thought about the woman who had meant so much to them both. “Anyway,” Tony said brightly, breaking the somber mood. “I came over here for a reason. I wanted to let you know that Pepper and I have decided to have a baby.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “You’re having a baby? But I thought—”

“I know what you thought. I thought it, too. But when a man loves a woman…” He let his voice trail off.

Steve thought about the idea of Pepper being pregnant, of her giving birth… He shuddered. “Are you sure it’s what you want?”

“It’s what Pepper wants. And you know I can deny her nothing.” Tony’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well, that’s great. That’s really great,” Steve said finally, forcing the terrifying thoughts out of his head. He loved Pepper and Tony like family. Nothing bad was going to happen. He had to believe that. “Pepper’s going to be an amazing mom, and you’ll be a fantastic dad.”

“She’ll be a great mom, all right,” Tony agreed readily, clearly ignoring the rest. “But you know, she is over thirty. She might not be able to get pregnant, anyway. This discussion is probably moot.”

‘Oh yeah, of course,” Steve agreed. He sighed in relief at the thought of her being infertile, then immediately felt bad for wishing that. “But you could always adopt. If she’d really like to be a mom.”

“For sure.” Tony nodded. “Adoption. Yeah.”

They fell into an uneasy silence.

“Doctor Foster is pregnant,” Steve said unnecessarily. The woman in question was holding her husband’s hand as she ate something that looked suspiciously like a high-end Pop Tart.

“I know.” Tony frowned. “I’ve put medical on stand-by. Just in case.”

“Good idea.” Steve frowned as well. He didn’t know Doctor Foster at all, but he couldn’t help the concern that spiraled through him at the sight of her rounded belly. He wished he could go back to a time when a woman being pregnant felt like a reason for celebration instead of concern. He put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. He knew the other man felt exactly the same.

It was hard to concentrate.

He had at least three projects on the go, and two were high priority, and the meet-and-greet with Dr. Foster and her Prince had set him back by almost three hours that he could’ve been working. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Garett’s new daycare provider: his broad shoulders or the sparkle in his silver eyes.

Steve shook his head and forced himself to turn back to his computer screen. He was working on the packaging for the North American release of ‘StarkHeart,’ which was a fitness system that linked music, headphones and heartrate together based on the users’ desired fitness routine. It used feedback from a wrist monitor to track the wearer’s heartbeat and adjusted the music to control the workout’s intensity based on their fitness goals. It also kept track of the wearer’s temperature to ensure they weren’t too hot or cold, and how much oxygen they were taking in, as well as keeping track of more mundane things like the weather.

He stared at his screen, trying to come up with something for StarkHeart that wouldn’t be either too cheesy or too bland.

He clicked over to his desktop instead, clicking on the Daycare icon in the upper left corner, his thumb pressing down on his computer’s sensor.

Immediately his screen lit up with video feed, centering on Garett. Steve’s mouth curled into a wide smile.

Today’s morning activity was swimming, and ten children and four daycare providers were in the shallow wading pool on the second floor. Steve easily picked out Moira MacTaggart, the daycare manager, dressed in a sensible green one-piece suit that contrasted nicely with her flaming red hair. Kamala Khan was also there, wearing a flattering burkini, as well as Darcy Lewis in an equally flattering 40s-style bikini. But it was Bucky in his swim trunks that made Steve’s mouth go dry.

Steve had known that Bucky was fit by the way his clothes had looked on him, but he’d never guessed what those clothes had actually been hiding.

Bucky was perfect. Every edge of muscle, every ridge of bone looked like it belonged to a Greek statue. Even his prosthetic left arm fused seamlessly into his shoulder. Bucky was playing with Garett in the pool, lifting the baby up over his head then lowering him in an arc that ended with Garett’s feet splashing in the water. Even without sound Steve could see that Garett was laughing in delight and felt completely safe in Bucky’s strong arms.

I wish I was in those arms, Steve thought to himself. He propped his chin in the hand that wasn’t pressing on the ID pad, watching Bucky playing with his son and losing himself in the graceful flow of Bucky’s body.

“Doesn’t HR have a policy against that?”

Steve jumped, yanking his thumb off the ID pad like it was burnt. “Natasha! I was—”

“Checking on Garett, I know. James’ well-muscled back was just a bonus.”

Steve’s face was on fire. “I may have gotten a little distracted.”

“I don’t blame you.” Natasha slid herself onto Steve’s desk, one well-shaped calf crossing over the other. Her heels were the same flaming red as her lipstick. “He’s been my little brother since we met as kids and I can still appreciate how good-looking he is.” She raised one perfectly-shaped eyebrow. “You interested?”

Steve blinked. Was he? He’d noticed Bucky’s good looks for sure, and even when Bucky was yelling at him that morning he couldn’t help but notice his intelligence and awareness of social justice issues, two things that Steve had always found incredibly attractive. Bucky also seemed to have a great sense of humour, and he was also obviously very kind. Any man that good with children had to be. Garett loved him already, which was a huge selling feature if they were to have any future together—

Steve’s thoughts came to a screeching halt.

There wasn’t going to be any future between him and Bucky. There wasn’t going to be a future with him and anyone. He’d loved Peggy more than anything in his life except for Garett. That was enough for one lifetime. He knew that kind of love wouldn’t come more than once. He sighed.

“No,” he said finally. “Bucky’s a great guy, and yeah, he’s hot. But I’m not interested.”

“Oh,” Natasha said, and was that a hint of disappointment in her green eyes? She braced her hands on the edge of his desk. “I didn’t actually come here to talk about James. Sam needs to see us in his office. It’s about StarkHeart.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Steve stood, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “We shouldn’t leave him waiting.”

“I don’t mind leaving him waiting,” Natasha said as she stood and fell into step beside Steve. “I’m worth waiting for.”

Steve glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “You interested?”

Natasha smirked, but then her face dropped. “Very. But it’d never work.”

“You keep saying that,” Steve said, “but I don’t know why.”

“Because he’s the director of all of Marketing and I’m just the Outbound Manager. Because he’s got his MBA from Columbia and I barely graduated from CUNY. Because I just turned twenty-nine and he’s a grown-ass man who has better things to do then, well, me.”

It was uncharacteristically honest and heartbreakingly self-depreciating. Steve stopped walking as he processed what Natasha had just said. “Tash?” He put his hand on her forearm. “You really believe that?”

“He did go to Columbia. I checked.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Natasha shrugged off his hand and crossed her arms. “Reality is reality, Rogers. I can face it like a big girl.”

“Okay, yes. What you said is true,” Steve tried changing tactics. “You did graduate from CUNY instead of somewhere prestigious—and expensive—and you are still in your twenties. But how many women your age do you know of who are already managing their own departments? Hell, I’m three years older than you and I’m still a just a manager as well.” He made air quotes around ‘just.’

“You started later than I did,” she said as if he didn’t know that. “Because you were in art school in London.”

“True. But I wouldn’t have gone to the Royal College if I wasn’t in England already, and Peggy hadn’t kicked my ass.”

“You got a scholarship.”

“Because I was only competing against other international students.”

“But I didn’t get a scholarship to CUNY.”

“And I didn’t grow up in foster care. Natasha you can’t do this to yourself. Your accomplishments are amazing.”

“It doesn’t feel amazing.”

“They are. You grew up in foster care,” he repeated. “With none of the advantages I had. And yet you still got to university and you’re still one of SI’s rising stars. Your accomplishments are amazing. They really are.”

Her aggressive gaze softened. “You honestly think so?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” He smiled. “Where’d this come from?”

Natasha looked away. “Doctor Foster is only a couple of years older than me and she’s won a Nobel Prize for theoretical physics. And she’s married to a prince.”

“And she’s pregnant and stunningly beautiful,” Steve agreed. “I can see why you’d feel not-so-great comparing yourself to her.”

Natasha nodded. “Normally this shit doesn’t bother me. But seeing her, and him, and how happy they are…I want that too,” she said in a small voice. “Is that so wrong?”

“Of course not.” Gently Steve pulled Natasha into a hug, giving her plenty of time to refuse, but she came willingly and let him wrap her up in his arms. “You’re a wonderful, kind, smart and beautiful woman,” Steve said softly against her temple. “You’ve done an incredible job here at SI, which is why you’re already a manager. And Sam’s incredibly lucky that someone as amazing as you is even looking at him twice.”

“You really think all that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Steve repeated. “And if you weren’t my sister from another mister I’d be fighting Sam for your attention.”

Natasha laughed and stepped back. “You know he’d win.”

Steve laughed, glad to see that the spark was back in Natasha’s eyes. “Yeah. He’d probably kick my ass.”

“You’re a good dad, Rogers,” Natasha said. “Garett’s a lucky boy.”

Steve took that for the thank you it was. “I’m lucky to have him.”

She grinned at him and they continued their walk towards the Director’s office.

Steve thought about Natasha’s comment. He was working hard to be a good dad to Garett. Good father and mother both. He had been ever since Peggy had died, and sometimes he even thought he might be doing okay, though some days were certainly better than others.

He just wished he didn’t have to do it all alone.

“Are you serious?”

Sam Wilson, Director of Inbound and Outbound Marketing looked over at Steve. “Unfortunately, yes. And like I said, I know it’s really short notice, and I’m sorry.”

Steve took a deep breath, glancing over at Natasha. “It’s going to be tough to find a babysitter, especially since May Parker has retired.”

While the North American launch of StarkHeart was progressing exactly as planned, it looked like the UK launch was turning into a disaster. According to the data Sam had received that morning, the soft launch of the product showed that it was likely to crash and burn if they kept on the same trajectory. It seemed that the British felt that the way the product was being advertised made it seem ‘too intrusive,’ and there was a worry that it would keep increasing the pace of their workout until they were physically ill.

The UK Marketing Department felt unable to beat back this tide of negative market research, so they’d asked head office to come to the rescue. Apparently, the rescue was going to consist of Sam, Steve and Natasha.

It was a great opportunity, really. A chance for both him and Natasha to prove their ability to handle a high-pressure and time-sensitive situation, and in another country to boot. Steve knew he should be champing at the bit to go, and he could see Natasha practically wiggling in her seat with excitement. But then again, she wasn’t a single mom.

“I hear you,” Sam sighed, “and trust me when I say I don’t like it, either. But we’ve got to get this product off the ground or it’s going to be a problem. Like, the heads will roll kind, and that’s never good. And, to be honest, the head of marketing in the UK is a friend of mine. I’d like to help her out.”

“Must be a good friend,” Natasha said casually, but Steve could tell by the slight stiffness to her shoulders that the question wasn’t casual at all.

“Faiza and I go way back,” Sam said noncommittally. “I want to see her and her team do well.”

“Of course,” Natasha murmured. Her excitement had dimmed a bit with Sam’s announcement, but Steve could see she was still raring to get everything ready to go. “When do we leave?”

“M.J.’s booked our flights for seven pm tonight so we’ll arrive first thing tomorrow morning.” He looked apologetically at Steve. “I’m really sorry about this.”

“It’s fine,” Steve lied. He had just over six hours to find a babysitter competent enough and trustworthy enough to care for Garett for at least five days. He’d never left his little boy for longer than two nights at the most, and now he had to leave with almost no preparation. He felt sick.

“It’s not fine, and I know it. And if there was any other way to do this, you know I wouldn’t ask. But you’re the best I have, Steve. Hell, you’re the best designer at Stark International, and I know what a great team you and Natasha make. If anyone can pull this out of the fire, it’s the two of you.” Sam’s expression was completely sincere. “I will make this up to you and Garett. I promise.”

“Thanks,” Steve said. He couldn’t help but be pleased at Sam’s words, even though it wouldn’t do a damn thing to help him through this situation. He and Natasha gathered their notes and left Sam’s office with the assurance that their itinerary would be on their email within minutes.

Natasha looked at him as soon as they were out of earshot. “What are you going to do about Garett?”

“I don’t know.” Steve’s lips thinned. “You’re the one I usually ask when May’s not available.” The because I don’t have anyone else alive that I trust. was left unsaid.

“What about Tony? Or Pepper?”

Steve titled his head for a moment, considering. “I know they care about Garett almost as much as I do, but I’ve never asked them to watch him before. Five days in a row might be a bit much.”

“I get that.” Natasha thought. “Someone else from the daycare? Kamala?”

“I could ask.” Steve thought about that morning, and the way that Garett had taken to his new daycare provider. “Do you think Bucky might do it?”

“James?” She tilted her head. “He might. And I know that his only plans for this week was to hit the gym and hang out with me, so he’s probably not too busy.”

“Okay,” Steve said on a sigh as they jogged down the stairs back to their floor. “I’ll go ask right now.”

“He prefers pale ales over dark beer, if you’re buying,” Natasha called to him.

“Noted!” Steve yelled back. His heart was pounding as he made his way down the stairs to the second floor. Partly from the stress of preparing for the trip, partly from the exertion of running down 13 flights before he gave up and hopped the elevator for the next 87 floors. But mostly his heart was pounding at the idea of seeing Bucky again.

Shit. Steve banged the back of his head lightly against the clear glass wall of the elevator. He was smitten.

How did you let that happen? he chastised himself. He’d known Bucky for literally less than eight hours, and already the thought of seeing him again was making his pulse race. But he couldn’t help the smile on his face as he thought about the fact he was actually attracted. It had been so long since he’d felt that rush, that excitement at the idea of seeing someone.

He hadn’t felt that kind of instant attraction to anyone since the day he’d met Peggy.

The thought was like a splash of cold water, instantly dampening his pleasure at seeing Bucky again. He’d never love anyone like he loved Peggy.

Peggy had been four years younger than he was when they’d met, a worldly twenty-three to his jaded twenty-seven. She’d travelled all over the world, had already finished her undergraduate degree in political science and was working on her Master’s by the time he’d left the army. He’d been so sick of the U.S.A. at that point: Sick of his righteousness that had caused him to join ROTC in university and then sent him off to fight in useless skirmishes so far from home; Sick of the bloodshed and the carnage and the death. He’d been backpacking through Europe to try to find his purpose when they’d met. She’d helped him regain that, and more.

But that had been over six years ago, before she died. If he’d felt aged by life before he met her, he felt positively ancient now. Ancient and creaking and dead inside in a way that even Bucky’s flashing silver eyes probably couldn’t reach.

Natasha had said that she’d been eleven when she’d met a seven-year-old Bucky. That meant they were four years apart. Bucky was only twenty-five years old. Steve was eight years older.

Steve's face heated with shame. He was nearly a decade older than Bucky, and a single father as well. He felt like a pervert for even finding Bucky attractive. He couldn’t believe he’d been staring at Bucky’s naked torso like some kind of dirty old man.

The elevator dinged to indicate they’d arrived at the second floor, and suddenly Steve didn’t know what to do. There was no way he could ask Bucky to watch Garett. At this point he wasn’t sure he could even talk to him. He’d have to ask someone else to watch Garett. Maybe Kamala or Darcy, even though Kamala was only part-time and was studying to get into medical school, and Darcy had always struck Steve as being flighty. Maybe Moira could do it. Or he could ask M.J.

Or fuck it. He’d tell Sam that he had to bring Garett with him and that would be that.

Steve walked towards the daycare with grim determination, hitting the ID pad on the door with probably a bit more force than was actually required. Of course, it was Bucky who appeared first.

“Oh, hey Steve,” Bucky said, smiling exactly the way Steve had hoped and now had been dreading. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until later. What’s up?”

I saw you shirtless and now I’m lusting after you, but that’s gross and impossible and perverted and I can’t, Steve almost blurted. “I’m going on an unplanned business trip,” he said instead. “And I have to leave tonight, which means I need a caregiver for Garett and I was hoping that Kam—”

“Oh yeah. Natasha texted me about that.” Bucky’s smile grew impossibly wider. He was so handsome that it almost hurt. “I’d be happy to look after Garett for a few days. It’ll be fun.”

Steve blinked. “Natasha texted you?”

“Yeah. She’s practically my sister.” Bucky blushed a little as he said it, like he was admitting something secret. “Sounds like this trip is kind of a big deal. I’d be happy to help out.”

Steve was still blinking. Bucky wasn’t looking at him like he was a pervert. It was like Bucky didn’t even realize that Steve was attracted to him at all. But then again, he hadn’t told Bucky that he’d found him attractive, and it seemed that Natasha hadn’t, either. Maybe Steve could ask Bucky to watch Garett for him without making a fool of himself. “You want to watch Garett?”

Bucky’s smile slipped. “If that’s okay? I know you don’t know me very well, but Natasha can vouch for me. And Garett and I seem to get along great. But I totally understand if—”

“No!” Steve interrupted. “No. You watching Garett would be good. I actually came down to see if you could do it.”

“Great!” Bucky’s smile was back. “Give me your phone and I’ll put in my contact info. You can text me later and I’ll come by to get Garett and his things.”

“No,” Steve said, and then he kept talking when Bucky’s face fell again. “No! I mean, all of Garett’s stuff is at my place. You can just stay there while I’m away. He’d probably be more comfortable at home. And there’s a lot of food in the fridge I won’t be able to eat since I’ll be gone… Or not. You’d probably be more comfortable in your own place,” Steve finished lamely. “Sorry.”

But Bucky looked like that was the best idea ever. “That’d be great!” He beamed. “I’ve got a tiny place that’s in a shit neighbourhood. Staying at Stark Tower even for a short time would make my life so much easier.”

Steve couldn’t help returning Bucky’s smile. “Glad I could help.” He handed Bucky his phone.

“Glad you asked,” Bucky said. His silver eyes were flashing with happiness.

I am so fucked, Steve thought.

At least he’d be away for five days. He’d probably feel differently about Bucky by then.

He could only hope.

“I love you, baby!” Steve said through the computer screen.

Garett squealed happily and bounced on Bucky’s lap. He shouted out something that sounded vaguely like “Love you, daddy!” with a big smile. Then his smile faded and he stuck his fingers in his mouth, his big blue eyes filling with tears.

Steve felt his heart crack right down the centre. “I’ll be home soon, I promise.”

“Daddy home!” Garett said. “Want daddy!” It was more sounds than properly enunciated words but Steve knew exactly what his son was saying. Steve had been away for two whole days already. Garett wanted his daddy home.

“I know, baby. And I miss you, too. But it’ll only be a few more days. I promise.”

It was midnight in London after a long day of trying to sort out the StarkHeart issues, and Steve was tired. But New York was five hours behind, which made it seven p.m. and Garett’s bedtime. Steve wouldn’t miss that for all the extra hours of sleep in the world. He was Skyping with Garett, and therefore Bucky, from his hotel room. He’d taken off his jacket and loosened his tie and grabbed himself a beer from the room’s bar fridge, but he didn’t feel nearly as relaxed as he wished. It was so hard to know his baby was hurting.

“Want daddy,” Garett sighed. He let his little body collapse against Bucky’s chest, obviously taking comfort in Bucky’s presence.

“He’s been fine all day,” Bucky said in answer to Steve’s anguished look. “We went to daycare today, and then I took him to the park afterwards, and we ate cheese pizza and carrots for dinner.” At Steve’s slightly horrified expression Bucky clarified: “Naan bread with organic cheese and tomato sauce cut into small pieces, and I roasted the carrots until they were soft. No fake food or choking hazards, I promise.” He winked.

Steve blushed. “I wasn’t worried,” he lied.

“I know,” Bucky replied, pretending to believe it.

“Pizza!” Garett exclaimed helpfully, bouncing on Bucky’s thigh. “Ice cream!” He giggled.

Bucky’s eyes widened at Garett’s declaration. “I didn’t forget the rules! It was only a little bit—”

Steve laughed at Bucky’s concern. “It’s okay. I don’t mind if you bent the no sugar rule a little.”

“It’s just that we were having such a good time in the park, and it turns out we both love vanilla ice cream and there was this ice cream truck right there…” Bucky looked really guilty for not following Steve’s rules to the letter. It was kind of endearing.

“It’s okay,” Steve interrupted gently. “I’m just glad that you and Garett are getting along so well.”

“Yeah.” Bucky looked down at Garett, who'd been playing with Bucky’s hair where it brushed against his face. “He’s a great little kid.”

Steve knew that look. He’d seen the same look on Tony’s face when he’d held Garett for the first time; he’d seen that look on Peggy’s face when the test had first shown her they were pregnant. It was the look of someone completely, totally and utterly committing their heart to a child.

Bucky was falling in love with Garett.

And Steve was falling in love with him.

He shook the thought off. He wasn’t falling for Bucky. He couldn’t. His heart belonged to Peggy and that was that. He was glad that Garett was safe and happy. That was all.

Garett smacked Bucky gently in the face and then laughed at Bucky’s exaggerated scowl. He turned back to the computer screen. “Bucky,” he explained helpfully. It sounded like ‘Buggy’.

“You like Bucky, do you?” Steve grinned.

“Like Buggy,” Garett agreed. He leaned back into Bucky again.

Bucky ruffled his hair. “I like you, too, kiddo.”

Steve smiled as he watched Bucky and Garett together. Garett’s hair was almost as dark as Bucky’s, his blue eyes almost as light, and his smile just as sweet. If Steve didn’t know any better he could easily think that it was Bucky who was Garett’s father, not him. Like they were already a family.

The thought tightened Steve’s throat. It should’ve been Peggy holding onto Garett like that. Peggy looking at him with such deep love and caring. He missed her so much.

“Story!” Garett demanded, breaking Steve out of his melancholy thoughts. He pointed at Steve through the computer screen.

“I can do that.” Steve smiled. He’d actually packed three of Garett’s favourite story books with him so that he could read to Garett before bedtime. He and Bucky had arranged it to be part of the nightly call. He picked up two of the books that he’d left on the desk. “What do you want to hear tonight? How Much Do I Love You? or Goodnight Moon?”

“Goonigh' Moon!” Garett declared, pointing at the book with the heavily green-and-red cover.

“Oh good,” Bucky said with a grin. “I’ve heard this one has an amazing plot.”

“Characterization’s not so good,” Steve joined the joke, “but the twist at the end is very well done.”

Bucky and Steve both laughed, and Steve allowed himself to get lost in the gleam of Bucky’s eyes.

“Story!” Garett bounced on Bucky’s leg again.

“Right away.” Steve smiled, then opened the book and showed the first two pages to Garett. “In the great, green room, there was a telephone. And a red balloon,” Steve read.

Garett settled back against Bucky, immediately mesmerized.

Steve read through all the pages of the short book, getting caught up in the gentle rhythm of the story. “Goodnight stars,” he said quietly, noticing Garett’s drooping eyes. “Goodnight air. Goodnight noises, everywhere.” He shut the book.

“More story!” Garett demanded. He stuck his fingers in his mouth. His eyes slid shut and he forced himself awake, only to immediately succumb again.

“I think it’s bedtime, big guy,” Bucky said as he shifted Garett into his arms. Bucky was only wearing a t-shirt and the dark metal of his left arm gleamed softly in the low light.

“No! Story!” Garett protested, but he curled himself into Bucky’s chest.

“I’m going to put him to bed,” Bucky said to Steve through the computer screen. “You going to sign off?”

Was Bucky hoping he wouldn’t? Steve paused at the idea. He enjoyed talking to Bucky, even if their recent conversations were both about and around Garett. He enjoyed talking to Bucky a lot. Truth was, he’d love to have more time to get to know him, even if it meant staying up. “I’d be happy to talk more, once you get Garett down,” Steve said, hoping he didn’t sound as eager as he felt.

“Great!” Bucky enthused, clearly not worrying about how excited he might sound. “I’ll be back soon.” He stood and lifted Garett, bringing the baby closer to the screen. “Say goodnight to daddy.”

“G’night daddy,” Garett repeated. He was almost asleep.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Steve said.

“I’ll kiss him for you,” Bucky promised, and then he moved out of frame.

Steve leaned back on his chair and took a sip of his beer. He loosened his tie all the way and slid it off his neck before settling back. Damn he was exhausted.

It had been easier than he’d thought to be back in London after so much time. He’d been worried that he’d be surrounded by memories of Peggy; that he'd drown in them. By the time they’d gotten pregnant it'd felt like there wasn’t a square inch of the city he and Peggy hadn’t seen together. But it hadn’t been as bad as he’d feared. It had been nice, actually, to see the places he and Peggy used to go together and remember how happy they’d been.

But it didn’t mean that being in London wasn’t exhausting. The days were long and the work was challenging to say the least, and he was still jet-lagged. He was longing for a hot shower and bed, and probably not in that order. But here he was, still awake just to talk more with Bucky.

“Tough day?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at the sound of Bucky’s voice. He cracked open his eyes. “You don’t want to know.”

“Actually, I do want to know about your day.” Bucky slid back into frame as he sat down on the couch. “I want to know all about you.”

Steve blinked. Was Bucky flirting with him? He shook off the thought. Bucky was just a kid. He had better things to do than flirt with an old man.

Steve leaned forward a bit so he was square to the screen. “Okay, but you asked for it.” He then proceeded to give Bucky a run-down of the planning meeting that they’d had that morning, and then the brainstorming meeting with the UK graphics people, and then the regrouping before lunch with Sam and the rest of the marketing team. And then how’d they’d ended up skipping lunch because the meeting had nearly disintegrated into a brawl when Natasha had told her British counterpart flat out that his idea wasn’t going to work. They’d finally adjourned at nearly six p.m. with an actual plan for the StarkHeart roll-out that mollified the UK section and made Sam happy. Of course, that meant everyone went to the pub to celebrate, and Steve hadn’t gotten back to his hotel until way after eleven.

“No wonder you’re tired,” Bucky said sympathetically. “That’s a hell of a long day.”

“You’re telling me.” Steve rubbed his face. “And the best part is I get to start it all over again tomorrow at seven.”

“You should go to bed.”

“I will,” Steve sighed. But now that he was sitting in his darkened hotel room, looking at Bucky so many miles away, he found he was reluctant to do so. Looking at Bucky was nice. Very nice. “Tell me about yourself.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh and took a sip of the beer he was holding. It was from the six pack Steve had bought before he’d known he’d have to go to London. He was glad to see that Bucky had believed him when he’d told him to make himself at home. “Not much to tell.”

“That isn’t true.” Steve smiled at him. “I know Natasha.”

Bucky laughed again. “Maybe you know too much already!’

I want to know everything, Steve thought. Maybe it was the late hour and his exhaustion, or the half-dozen beers he’d had between the pub and now, but Steve allowed himself to revel in the simmering attraction he felt for Bucky. He allowed his eyes to roam over Bucky’s handsome face, his broad shoulders, his sculpted chest. He allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if he and Bucky were together. “Tell me something,” he said. “Please?”

“Okay.” Bucky looked up like he was thinking. “I joined the army at seventeen. That something?”

“Yes, for sure,” Steve said. “Why?”

“Something to do. I needed structure, I guess. Not much of that in my foster home. Natasha was in her last year of CUNY, and I knew my grades would never be good enough to get me there, so I had my foster dad sign my papers and I left.”

It was pretty obvious that Bucky’s story was only scratching the surface of his experience, but Steve knew enough not to pry. “How’d you become a daycare provider?” he asked instead. “Seems like a big jump from the military to that.”

“You’d be surprised how similar being a sergeant to a bunch of new recruits can be to helping run a daycare,” Bucky said dryly. “But long story short, I just got sick of it. Maybe losing my arm had something to do with it but…” He shrugged.

“I know the feeling.” Steve grimaced, thinking about his one tour overseas and how quickly he’d soured on being a solider. “Not the arm part, of course. But the rest, yeah.”

Bucky nodded. “I just got tired of all of it, you know? The constant ‘hurry up and wait,’ and the way that we were training all these young men and women to go risk their lives in countries that they could barely even pronounce. I just wanted to do something different than that.”

“Something peaceful.”

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded again. “And taking care of kids was the most different thing I could think of. Little kids are so happy, you know? So full of life and hope. I just wanted to help with that. Help give them a safe place.”

“I get that,” Steve said.

“What about you, Captain?” Bucky grinned at him around the mouth of his beer bottle. “How’d you end up in marketing?”

Peggy, was Steve’s instant answer, but it was more complicated than that. He’d left the military well before he’d ever met her, for reasons that had always felt too hard to explain. He realized suddenly that it was actually something Bucky would understand, probably even better than Peggy had done. He cleared his throat. “I’d wanted to be a solider for as long as I could remember. My dad was a soldier, but he died in a training accident just after I was born. Maybe it was because I wanted to be like him, I don’t know. But I can’t remember I time when I didn’t want to be Army. I joined ROTC as soon as I could. Accepted a full scholarship with no reservations because I was looking forward to putting in my time. I graduated a Second Lieutenant, and I couldn’t get overseas fast enough.”

“Sounds familiar,” Bucky said. “Well, except for the ROTC part. I wasn’t bright enough for that. What happened?”

“I was completely disillusioned with American imperialism,” Steve said truthfully. “I saw what we were—and weren’t—doing overseas, and I hated it. I hated being part of a war machine that wasn’t getting anything done. So, I quit.” He shrugged.

“Huh.” Bucky tilted his head. “I can relate. So, marketing?”

“It was really hard leaving the military. Everything I’d ever thought I wanted, everything I was was stripped away when I left. I was angry and lost, so I did what every lost and confused young person does. I grabbed a backpack and went to Europe.”

“I went to college for early childhood education myself,” Bucky laughed. “But go on.”

“I don’t think you were that lost and confused,” Steve said wryly. “I started my trip in England, because they speak English and I don’t speak anything but, so it seemed like a good way to ease myself into my trip. That’s when I met Peggy. She changed everything.”

“The love of your life,” Bucky said softly.

“The love of my life,” Steve agreed. He paused for a moment, thinking of meeting her, and how in that second, he knew his life had changed. “I’d planned badly,” he admitted. “I didn’t realize how expensive London was, and I didn’t want to spend all my savings in one place. So I was sleeping rough, and not doing a good job of it. She stopped to give me change, heard my accent and immediately decided I needed help.” He smiled at the memory. “She brought me back to her flat, fed me, gave me a place to sleep, and over the course of a week, helped me sort out the rest of my life.” They’d also had the most amazing sex Steve had ever had, but Bucky didn’t need to know that.

“She told you to go into marketing?”

“She told me to use my talent in art for my career, instead of my talent for military strategy,” Steve clarified. “She was the first person to support that creative side of myself. The first one to think my talent was worth a damn.” He remembered how astonished he’d been that she thought his artistic talent was actually useful, how her belief in his abilities had shaken his self-perception to the core. He would’ve married her just for that alone.

“Wow,” Bucky said, clearly impressed. “It sounds like she really saw you, for you.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. He’d never put it into words before, but that’s exactly what it was. Peggy had seen him for himself. No wonder he’d loved her so fiercely. He hoped he’d been able to do the same for her. He missed her so much.

Bucky must have seen it. “Tell me more about England? I’ve never been.”

“The people are great, the beer is warm and a lot of the food is downright awful,” Steve said with a grin. He was grateful to Bucky for how deftly he’d changed the subject to something so much less painful. “But until I arrived here yesterday, I’d forgotten how much I missed it.”

“Tell me more,” Bucky said. He took a sip from his bottle and Steve couldn’t help but notice the bobbing of his Adam’s apple and the way the tendons tightened in the slim column of his throat.

“Okay,” Steve said.

It became a nightly ritual.

Steve would say hello to Garett and hear about his day, then read him a story, then wait with Skype still activated until Bucky had put Garett down to sleep.

Then they’d talk until Steve was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open, and Bucky would insist that he go to bed.

It was nice, actually, to have someone else worry about him for once. Every time Bucky insisted he end the conversation so Steve could get some sleep, Steve would feel warm inside. It wasn’t a feeling he’d had since before his mom had gotten sick and Peggy had died

It made him almost reluctant to leave London Sunday morning, knowing he’d have to give it up.

The thought made him sigh as he slid into his first-class seat in the middle row beside Sam for their British Airways flight home. Natasha had scored a window seat, and had immediately curled up with her headphones on and closed her eyes.

Of course, Sam noticed. “Tired?”

Steve smiled wanly at him. “More tired than when Garett was a newborn.”

That made Sam laugh. “That sounds pretty tired.”

“I’ll be happy to see him, though,” Steve said sincerely. He missed his little boy with a fierce ache. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to leave him again any time soon.

“I’ll bet.” Sam tightened his belt and settled back into his seat. “And don’t worry. I won’t forget my promise to make sure you get the time with him back. I’ll have Stark Industries send you and Garett somewhere nice for a week. What do you prefer, Disney World or Universal?”

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you,” Steve said, genuinely delighted with the offer. Stark Industries offered their employees unlimited vacation, which was just one of the many perks for working there, but they certainly didn’t routinely pay for those vacations. Going to an amusement park with Garett on SI’s dime would more than make up for their time apart.

“Just tell me when you want to go, and I’ll make it happen.” Sam grinned. “Just not until this damn StarkHeart has actually launched successfully, okay?”

Steve laughed. “I promise.” He did up his belt and leaned back.

The plane taxied out to the runway as the flight attendants gave their safety speech, and then they were in the air.

Sam turned his head towards Steve once the plane had reached altitude and the revving of the engines had quieted. “I really do appreciate you coming on this trip. You know I couldn’t have gotten StarkHeart launched in the UK without you.”

Steve smiled at the compliment, even while he knew that not going hadn’t really been an option. At least Sam seemed to appreciate his sacrifice. “Welcome. But I think you would’ve been fine without me. Natasha really carried the whole project.”

“True that,” Sam agreed. He moved forward to peer around Steve to look at Natasha’s seat before settling back down. “She’s a real asset to Stark Industries.”

“And a great person,” Steve added.

“No argument there. She’s the whole package.”

Steve arched his eyebrows. “'The whole package'?”

“Yeah. Smart, confident, kind, but she can totally hold her own. And sexy as hell.” Sam winced. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

“I’m sure you’re not the first to have noticed,” Steve reassured him. “Natasha is one gorgeous woman.” Normally he’d never talk about anyone behind their back, especially not someone he was as close to as he was to Natasha. But she’d been crushing on their boss for a long time. It wouldn’t hurt her cause for him to remind Sam about what a catch Natasha was.

“But she’s more than that,” Sam said in answer to Steve’s statement. “She’s so intelligent, and quick-witted. And her sense of humour!” Sam shook his head. “She’s going to make some lucky guy very happy one day.”

Steve would have to be blind to miss the implications in Sam’s words. “You like her?”

“Of course I like her! She’s the best damn manager in my portfolio. And after Ms. Potts hears about how she practically single-handedly saved StarkHeart, she should be up for a promotion, for sure.” He looked at Steve apologetically. “No offense.”

Steve chuckled. “None taken. I know how awesome Natasha is. I don’t mind standing in her shadow.” He looked at Sam again. “When do you think that promotion might happen?”

“I’ve been saying my portfolio has been too big for a while,” Sam said. “Especially after the re-org that added you and your team after Stane retired.”

Steve grimaced at the name, remembering how hard it’d been to report to Stane, with his nasty micro-aggressions and untrusting nature. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

Sam laughed at the Briticism. “You picked up their lingo pretty quick.”

Steve shrugged, unwilling to discuss his history with Peggy. He liked Sam, in fact he liked his boss a lot, and would even consider them friends. But he’d never really discussed his late wife. It was just easier to keep his grief private. “So, the promotion could happen soon?”

“I think so. It shouldn’t be too hard to convince Ms. Potts to promote her and give her the Outbound section of my portfolio. She’s practically doing it anyway.”

Steve remembered the conversation he and Natasha had a week ago before they’d left for London, how she felt like she hadn’t achieved very much in her life. He hoped that her becoming a Director before she hit thirty might help her recognize her worth. “I’m sure she’d love that.”

“I hope so, because I’m going to make it happen.”

“You really value her, huh?”

“More than you’d know,” Sam said. He immediately looked embarrassed at his admission.

If he hadn’t known before, Sam’s blush made it clear that he felt a lot more for Natasha than just admiration for her business acumen. Steve just managed to keep himself from shaking Natasha awake to tell her the good news. He forced himself to keep his voice neutral instead of crowing with glee. “And she wouldn’t report to you anymore, I guess?”

“Nope,” Sam confirmed with an easy smile. He schooled his expression when he looked back at Steve. “Not that I mind her reporting to me! That’s not what I meant—”

“But it’s easier to date someone when they’re not directly in your chain of command,” Steve broke in.

Sam looked abashed. “It was that obvious, huh.”

“Not until this conversation.” Steve grinned.

“Don’t mention anything to her, okay?” Sam pleaded with him. “I don’t know how she feels about me, and I don’t want her feeling uncomfortable.” He bit his lip, a gesture of insecurity that Steve had never seen before. “In fact, forget I said anything. I shouldn’t even be thinking about her that way at all. She’s way out of my league—”

“I don’t think you have to worry,” he interrupted Sam’s rant. “I think she’d be happy to not be reporting to you, and for exactly the same reasons.” Mentally he crossed his fingers that Natasha wouldn’t kill him for betraying her confidence, but he was pretty sure that the ends would justify the means.

Sam gaped at him. “Really?”

Steve nodded. “Exactly this topic may have come up in conversation.”

Sam’s face split in a smile. “Natasha talks about me?”

Steve grinned. “A little bit.”

Sam’s smile widened. “Well, damn.”

“You might want to take her out to dinner, after we get back,” Steve said casually. “You know, to discuss the promotion and how you’d like to work with her under the new reporting structure.”

“That’s a great idea.” Sam laughed. He glanced over at Natasha again. Her legs hadn’t moved an inch. He bit his lip, the insecure expression back. “You really think she’d go for it?”

“Absolutely,” Steve said, trying to put as much conviction into that one word as possible.

“Damn,” Sam said again. He leaned back in his seat. He looked completely thrilled.

Steve smiled as he leaned back into his own seat, pleased at the idea that Sam and Natasha were going to get together. He knew that they’d make a great couple.

He and Peggy used to be that great of a couple, until fate intervened and everything changed. For the millionth time he wished things could’ve been different. He wished he could still be that happy.

Immediately an image of Bucky came to mind, Garett on his lap, eyes shining.

Steve shook it off. Bucky wasn’t his, and he wasn’t ever going to be. They were friends. That was all.

It would have to be enough.

Bucky loved the Harrod’s coffee blend in the collectors’ tin that Steve had grabbed him from Gatwick before leaving.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you anything better.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I just didn’t have any time.”

“This is great.” Bucky grinned at him as he hefted the tin. “I love coffee. You couldn’t have gotten me a better gift. I swear.”

Your smile is a better gift. Steve shook off the inane thought. “Well, I’m glad you like it.”

They were standing in the living area of Steve’s apartment at Stark Tower. His flight had landed just after 10:45 a.m. New York time, and it was now well past noon. He was tired and hungry, but all of that faded from the feeling of Garett in his arms and the smile on Bucky’s face.

Damn, it was good to be home.

Garett was playing with the Harrod’s bear that Steve had also grabbed for him at the airport. It was a soft brown bear with a green Harrod’s shirt that had a small button on the collar. The sales associate at the airport store had assured Steve countless times that the toy had indeed been designed for toddlers, and that his son wouldn’t be able to get the button off the shirt and choke on it. Steve wasn’t absolutely convinced until he’d tried to pull it off himself during the flight, much to Sam’s amusement. He was happy that he’d tried though, as part of the game Garett was playing apparently involved putting the button in his mouth.

“It won’t come off, I tried,” Steve said to Bucky in response to Bucky’s terrified look.

Bucky laughed. “Sorry. Force of habit I guess.”

“Don’t ever apologize for wanting to keep my son safe,” Steve said with probably more intensity than necessary, but Bucky smiled at him anyway.

“Duly noted.”

They stayed grinning at each other long enough that Garett started to get restless, arching his back and whining.

“He’s probably hungry,” Bucky said apologetically. “He had breakfast, and a snack earlier. I promise.”

“I bet he’s growing,” Steve said. He changed his grip and turned to his son. “What would you like for lunch?”

“Peabutta,” Garett said. Steve’s eyes widened. He looked at Bucky.

“Your son has learned a few words,” Bucky said.

“Apparently.” He held Garett up so he could look him in the eye. “Are you talking now, buddy?”

“Wanna bread an a peabutta,” Garett said. He smiled at his daddy, obviously proud of his linguistic accomplishments.

“Holy crap.” Steve shook his head in wonder. “He’s talking now! Did you teach him?” He moved to the kitchen to make the peanut butter sandwich his son was asking for, Bucky beside him.

“We did a bit of language work in the evenings.” Bucky shrugged. “He seemed to enjoy it, so…”

“That’s amazing,” Steve said admiringly. He tried his best to enrich his son’s educational experience after daycare, but most nights he was too tired to do much more than follow Garett’s lead in whatever game his son invented. He read to him every night, and involved Garett in all homemaking activities to the best of his ability, but it was obvious that Bucky had knowledge and talent well beyond Steve’s, if there was that much improvement in one week. He popped some bread in the toaster. “You have a real gift.”

Bucky took Garett from Steve and deftly put him into the high chair in the kitchen. “Your son’s really bright. I’m sure he would’ve done it on his own.”

“Maybe.” Steve finished cutting up the peanut butter and toast into small pieces that would be easy for a toddler to manage and put the plate in front of Garett with a flourish. “But he certainly learned those words from you.” He turned back to his son. “Would you like some fruit?”

“Boobrees!” Garett said enthusiastically. He waved a square of toast at Steve before jamming it in his mouth.

“Blueberries it is,” Steve said with an amused smile. He fetched the container from the fridge, rinsed a few and put them on Garett’s plate.

Garett immediately picked them up and mashed them onto the toast. “Boobrees is jam!”

Steve laughed, then looked gratefully at Bucky. “I can’t believe how many words he knows!”

Bucky shrugged again. “It was fun.”

“Garett’s a great kid,” Steve agreed readily as he ruffled his son’s soft curls. “But you’ve done such a good job with him while I was away. It made it so much easier to work knowing that Garett was safe. And happy,” he said sincerely. “I really owe you.”

“You could take me out to dinner?” Bucky said, expression flirty and hopeful all at once.

Steve’s heart lurched. Bucky was asking him on a date. It was as obvious as Sam’s interest in Natasha was on the plane.

And, Steve realized with sudden insight, it was totally reciprocated. He couldn't keep lying to himself; he really liked Bucky, too.

“I’d love to take you out to dinner,” Steve said honestly.

Bucky’s entire body brightened with Steve’s words. “I’d love to go.”

They grinned at each other, and Steve found himself lost in the captivating silver of Bucky’s eyes, and the way they crinkled at the corners when he smiled. How beautiful he looked.

The moment shifted, changed to something more heated. Steve found himself leaning towards Bucky, like a moth heading towards a flame.

“Boobrees!” Garett shrieked, and they both jerked back.

Steve laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. His face flamed.

“You want more blueberries, do you?” Bucky laughed too, but he sounded more delighted than embarrassed. He rubbed his nose against Garett’s cheek before scooping some more blueberries out of the fridge, running them under the tap and putting them on Garett’s plate. He turned to look at Steve, a soft smile playing on his perfect lips. “You’ve had a long flight. I should probably go.”

Bucky leaving was the last thing Steve wanted to happen.

“I was just going to make myself something to eat. And then maybe take Garett out to the park,” Steve said, hoping he sounded more casual than he felt. His heart was pounding with the thought of spending more time with Bucky. He was totally fucked.

“That’d be great!” Bucky said with more enthusiasm than a thrown-together lunch and a walk in the park with a toddler probably warranted. “But I have a better idea. Why don’t you sit on the couch and put your feet up and I’ll get Garett clean, bring him to you and then make you something to eat. Then I’ll take Garett to the park while you try to catch up on your sleep. What do you think?”

The sudden wetness he felt in his eyes caught Steve totally off guard. He blinked quickly, trying to clear out the tears. He was completely overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotional reaction to Bucky’s offer. No one had ever offered to take care of him like that. Not since Garett was born. Not since Peggy had died.

Peggy was dead. She was dead and here he was, acting like he’d forgotten. He’d lost the love of his life and he felt like he was suddenly reliving every second of that pain. It roared up, tearing through him, like a knife cutting straight through his heart. There was no way he could let Bucky take care of him and Garett like that. He just couldn’t.

“No.” Steve pressed his hand to his chest, feeling the pain throb through him. “No.” I can’t do this, he thought. “I can’t do this,” he said out loud.

Bucky’s smile tilted at Steve’s words. “I really don’t mind taking care of Garett for a bit longer—”

“No.” Steve shook his head at Bucky’s confusion. “I mean I can’t do this.” He waved his hand between the two of them, indicating the tendrils of a new relationship that Steve was now stamping into the ground. He turned away from Bucky. “Jesus.”

“You mean you can’t let me take care of Garett?” Bucky said, and Steve could hear the confusion and hurt in his voice. “Because you just said I’d been doing a great job.”

“It not that,” Steve said, still carefully not looking at him. “You’re great with Garett. It’s…I can’t start a relationship with you.” He cleared his throat, trying to move the ball of sorrow that was now lodged there. “I can’t do this,” he repeated. “I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t really looking for a relationship, Steve. Not yet, anyway. I hardly know you.” Bucky's laugh was brittle.

“Well, I’m not looking for a relationship at all,” Steve said harshly as he turned to face Bucky. Garett was staring at him, peanut butter and blueberries smeared all over his sweet face. He looked so much like Peggy in that second that it felt like Steve was being stabbed.

“Um, okay,” Bucky said. “Glad we cleared that up, I guess.” He ran his metal hand through his hair. His smile was as bright as it was fake. He turned to Garett. “Bye little guy. I had a great week with you. See you Monday.” He kissed the baby on the cheek and then went to the door and got his jacket. He picked up the Harrod's coffee tin, but held it like he wasn’t sure he should take it or not. He met Steve’s gaze. “See you.”

“Wait,” Steve forced out, and Bucky’s look was so hopeful that Steve's heart broke all over again. “I still owe you money.”

Bucky’s face fell before he caught himself and gave Steve another one of his patently fake smiles. “Oh, yeah. Right. I’ll send you the bill.” And then he was gone.

“Buggy?” Garett said. He looked up at his daddy, his bright blue eyes full of confusion. “Buggy go bye?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s voice was rough.

Garett pushed his plate off the high chair and burst into tears.

Steve scooped his son out of the chair and held him close, not even caring that he was getting blueberry juice all over his white dress shirt. “Me too, buddy,” he sighed. “Me too.”

Bucky was great on Monday, and Tuesday and Wednesday as well. He was completely loving with Garett, and completely professional with Steve, as if Steve’s total rejection of him on the weekend had never happened.

He also acted like all their late-night Skyping and intimate conversations hadn’t happened either. Their relationship was cordial and collegial, nothing else. Steve missed those talks—missed him—like he hadn’t missed anyone since Peggy.

Which was exactly the reason that his relationship with Bucky had to stay professional and nothing else. No matter how badly Steve might want something different. Bucky deserved better than a broken-hearted man in his thirties. Peggy deserved better to be forgotten as soon as Steve’s head was turned by a pretty face.

Not that Bucky was just pretty. He was smart, and funny and warm and kind, and so good with Garett—

Steve took his thumb off the pad, allowing the video feed from the daycare to shut off. He had to stop creeping on Bucky like that. He knew that Garett was safe, and he had work to do. Watching Bucky was at minimum a huge distraction, and in reality, a huge invasion of Bucky’s privacy.

He really needed to stop.

Steve sighed, and pulled up the images from the photoshoot advertising the latest version of Stark Industries’ laptops. It showed a stylized photo of a man looking at his computer, shot from the back of the screen. The man’s face was partially obscured by the laptop screen, but enough of his face was visible to show his surprise and delight at whatever it was he was looking at.

Steve immediately thought of Bucky, and the way he’d looked when Steve had given him the tin of Harrod’s coffee.

He managed to hold off for three more seconds before he put his thumb on the security pad again.

His screen lit up with the video feed from the day care. Bucky was there, playing with Garett, and once again he took Steve’s breath away.

Bucky was wearing a red, long-sleeved t-shirt, but he’d pushed the sleeves up to his elbows. His hair was down and gleamed a dark chestnut in the bright light. The sun glinted off the gold-and-black metal of his left arm when he lifted his hand to push his hair back. His eyes shone like silver coins. He was absolutely beautiful.

Suddenly, Bucky smiled softly in reaction to something that happened out of frame, and before he could even think about it, Steve took a screen shot of the image. He saved it to his personal file where he kept his photos of Garett, and then sat back in his chair, appalled at what he’d done.

There was a knock on his office door, and he whipped his head around. He half expected security to be there, ready to escort him out of the building for violating company harassment policy.

He chucked self-consciously when he realized it wasn’t security, and then beckoned the woman to enter.

“Hello Doctor Foster.” Steve stood and went around to the front of his desk, surprised that the scientist would be visiting him. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh hey,” she said as she glanced around his office. “I was looking for some information.” She was wearing a simple slip dress that showed off her pregnancy and an open flannel shirt over it. The shirt dwarfed her small frame; it probably used to belong to Prince Odinson.

Steve smiled at his guest, wondering what he could possibly help her with. “Information?”

“Yeah.” She rubbed her belly. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that Thor and I are going to have a baby, and I wanted to talk to you about child-care and stuff.”

Steve blinked and then motioned for her to sit. “Talk to me?”

She nodded and sat, practically collapsing into one of the overstuffed leather chairs in Steve’s office. “I know it probably sounds weird, but I don’t know a lot of people with kids. I’m an only child, so no nieces or nephews, and Thor’s the first of his siblings to be having a baby. I really only have one close friend, that’s Erik, and while he has kids, we’re more like science friends than, 'let’s talk about our family' friends, and, well. I’m not that close with my mother. I know Thor’s mom would talk to me about it, but I’m not that close to her yet, so…” Her shoulders slumped a little.

“So, you thought you’d talk to me?”

“Tony speaks very highly of you. He says you’re a great dad and you know a lot about this kind of thing. So, I thought you might be good to ask.”

Steve leaned against the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. He was still processing the fact that a Nobel Prize-winning physicist would need to ask him anything. But it was nice to hear that Tony thought he was a good dad. “I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be, but sure. Ask away.” He smiled.

She smiled back. “So, um. How do you do it? Raise a kid?” She must have seen the stunned look on his face, because she barreled on. “I know that Garett isn’t that old yet, so you’re not actually done raising him. But he’s a really nice little boy, so you’re obviously on the right track, and Thor was raised by nannies and was a real asshole when I met him—” She waved her hand at Steve’s look. “He was a total jerk, trust me. It took him over a year to convince me to even give him the time of day. Naturally I don’t want my baby to grow up to be an overprivileged prick like that. And God knows that my mom didn’t do such a great job. I mean, I know that I’m a pretty successful scientist, and I’m married to a prince, which some people think is a big deal. But I was never that happy as a child, and I went into astrophysics because I figured that, since I was lonely anyway, I might as well study the stars, because nothing could be lonelier than that, right? I mean, don’t get me wrong! I love what I do, and I’m very happy with my life. But I could’ve been happier, and I’d like that for my child.” She bit her lip.

Steve blinked. He opened his mouth, then shut it again.

“Sorry,” Dr. Foster said. “That was probably a lot.”

“Yeah,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. What she’d said had been a lot, especially considering they’d barely met. But her concern was very easy to relate to. He and Peggy had wondered exactly the same thing when they’d found out they were pregnant. “But I get it. I really do. We all worry about the same thing. Whether or not we’ll be good parents. Whether or not we’ll do better than our own parents did. Whether our children will be happy.”

Dr. Foster nodded as she rubbed her belly. “But how do you do that? Make sure they’re happier?”

Steve paused to think. “Respect,” he said finally. “It’s really important to respect the fact that your child is their own person, with their own thoughts and feelings, completely separate from you. And to tell your child you recognize what they’re feeling, even if you don’t agree with it.”

“Of course, respect,” Dr. Foster said. “That’s obvious.” She tilted her head. “But I guess it’s not that obvious, is it? My mother always treated me as an extension of herself. She could never understand why I wanted what I wanted. She never really tried.” She looked down at her belly, expression sad. “I don’t want to do that our children.”

“You don’t have to,” Steve said with confidence. “Just treat them like you’d want to be treated.”

Her sad expression didn’t change. “It just seems so overwhelming.”

“You just need the right resources,” Steve said. His mind immediately flashed to Bucky, and how excellent he’d been with Garett. “Talk with Bu—James Barnes downstairs in the daycare. He’s great with small children. He’d be an excellent resource for you.”

“James Barnes, huh?” Dr. Foster looked thoughtful. “And he works in the daycare? A man?”

“You don’t want to bring that up around him.” Steve laughed. “Trust me.”

“I do,” she said sincerely. She stood awkwardly, her small bump already in her way. “Whew!,” she grinned at him. “That’s probably harder than it needs to be.”

“The chair is very soft,” Steve said.

Dr. Foster rolled her eyes. “I think I’m just huge. The doctor says we’re having twins.”

Steve’s heart immediately constricted in fear. Pregnancy was incredibly dangerous when it was only one baby. But two? He swallowed and forced himself to smile. “Wow, that’s great.”

Luckily Dr. Foster didn’t seem to notice the falsity of his words. “Thanks, we’re pretty excited. Twins apparently run in Thor’s family, even though he’s not a twin. Neither is his older sister, actually. And his younger brother is adopted.” She frowned. “Maybe they were lying about there being a lot of twins.” She laughed. “Doesn’t matter though, does it? We’re having them.”

“You’ll do fine.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at him. “You’re a really nice man, Mister Rogers.”

Steve grinned at her. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Oh good,” Dr. Foster sighed in relief. “I am usually so bad with people! And after I dumped all that personal stuff on you…I really thought I’d messed this up.”

“No, we’re good.” Steve laughed. “I’m glad you came by.”

“Me too. And I hope you’ll call me Jane.” She wrinkled her nose. “Time for me to get cleaned up for state dinner number one-hundred-and-forty-seven. Marrying royalty isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. No matter what the Disney movies say.”

Steve laughed again. “I will definitely keep that in mind.”

“Thanks again, Steve!” She waved and then left.

Steve sat back down at his desk, thinking back over the unusual conversation he’d just had. He and Peggy had had similar conversations while she’d been pregnant. He remembered the hours they’d spent, cuddling in bed together, talking about their own upbringings and how they’d do it differently. If he was a good dad to Garett at all, it was because of those conversations. Yet another example of the blessing Peggy had been in his life, and how much he’d lost when she died.

“I miss you,” he whispered. He knew he always would.

Cold descended over New York like autumn had never happened. One day it was a beautiful crisp day in October, and then next Steve was packing a snowsuit in Garett’s bag to help keep him warm when the daycare made their daily trek outside.

Within weeks, the city was coated with holiday decorations along with the snow, and the sense of excitement in Stark Industries increased with each crisply embossed invitation to the Annual Holiday Party that arrived in every inbox.

The Stark Industries holiday Gala was the most anticipated work event of the year. Tony went all-out for his employees, offering them a night of dinner and dancing to rival any celebrity wedding. The food was always excellent, there was always a live band, and the drinks were always free, as were the cab rides home at the end of the night. And, as in years past, the formal dress code made the evening feel special. But Steve couldn’t help but sigh as he straightened his black bow tie and stepped into the opulent ball room. It was the first Gala he'd attended since Peggy had died. It didn’t feel right to be there without his beautiful wife on his arm, but the annual Gala had always been Peggy’s favourite event. She and Steve had flown in from London for it every year that they were together. They'd always arrived a few days before to stay with Tony and Pepper until after the New Year.

Last year would have been their fifth Gala together, and their first one with Garett. But they’d never had the chance to attend as a family. Steve shook off the thought. He really didn’t want to be sad, especially not tonight. Peggy would have wanted him to have a good time like they’d always had together. He wasn’t going to let her down.

“It’s strange that Peggy isn’t here,” Tony said as he appeared beside Steve. He was dressed impeccably in a white tuxedo jacket with a crisp white shirt, black pants and a black bow tie. His pocket square was deep red, in the same shade of the dress that Peggy wore to her last Gala two years before. It was a subtle yet beautiful memorial to the woman they’d both loved, and Steve felt his throat get tight at Tony’s gesture.

Steve nodded and cleared his throat. “I feel that all the time.”

Tony’s smile was completely sympathetic. He took Steve’s arm in a comforting grip. “If this was any other party I’d suggest we get completely shitfaced. But as I’m hosting and Pepper would kill me, a toast to her with my most expensive scotch will have to suffice. Come on.” Gently, Tony led Steve through the glittering crowd to the bar. Two scotches arrived in front of them almost like magic.

“Thanks.” Steve raised his glass.

“To Peggy,” Tony said, raising his own glass. “My soul sister.”

“To Peggy,” Steve repeated. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else without crying. They clinked their glasses together and sipped. Each lost in their own thoughts.

“So, Pepper’s pregnant.”

The scotch immediately went down wrong. Steve coughed. “What?”

“Turns out I do have miraculous super-sperm. She got pregnant first try. Baby’s due in June.”

“Wow,” Steve said. His mind was racing. Pepper pregnant, going into labour, dying the way Peggy had…. Steve shook off the thought. “Nothing bad is going to happen to Pepper,” he said out loud. “She’ll have the best medical care and—”

“It’s not like England didn’t have great medical care,” Tony interrupted grimly. He swirled his scotch in his glass. But then his expression brightened. “But it’s Pepper, right? She’s going to make this pregnancy thing look easy. It’s going to be fine.”

Steve forced himself to smile. “Of course it’s going to be fine. And I’m really happy for you. Being a dad is the best thing I’ve ever done.” The last part he could say with absolute certainty. He adored being a dad to Garett.

“You make it look good, that’s for sure. And it will be nice for my baby to have a brother or sister. Hey!” Tony’s smile broadened. “Our kids could marry each other! Start the Carter-Rogers-Stark dynasty!”

Steve laughed. “I would like that,” he said honestly. He could think of much worse things than for his son to marry the child of one of his best friends.

“And it wouldn’t even matter if we have a boy,” Tony continued, “because it’s not like you’re 100 percent straight, and neither am I. So, our sons probably wouldn’t be, either. And adoption is a thing if they wanted kids, too, so it’ll all be good.”

“True.” Steve took a sip of his drink. He’d never kept his bisexuality a secret, and neither had Tony, although both of them had been completely and easily faithful to the women they loved. But of course it made Steve think of Bucky and how attracted he was to him, and if he were being entirely honest with himself, how much he missed him. He thought of the photo of Bucky on his phone, wishing he could look.

“There you are!” Pepper arrived beside them, looking radiant and sleek in a white and black A-line dress. The front was gleaming white, while the sides and back were black. It was modern and classic all at once, and emphasized her tall, slender frame. Steve would’ve totally missed the fact that she had a small baby bump if Tony hadn’t just told him. She leaned over to kiss Tony’s cheek before moving to Steve and doing the same. “How are my two favourite gentlemen over the age of two?”

Steve laughed. “Good, thanks. And I understand congratulations are in order?”

Pepper blushed. “Tony told you, did he?”

“He’s pretty excited,” Steve said, ignoring the part of the conversation where they’d tried to convince each other that she wasn’t going to die the way Peggy had. He reached for his drink, only to realize that Tony had ordered him another.

“I am, too.” Pepper beamed. “And also terrified. I have no idea how to do this parenting thing. I really hope you’re prepared for lots and lots of conversations about baby and child care!”

“It would be my pleasure,” Steve replied honestly as he sipped his second scotch. “But I won’t be the only one. Isn’t Doctor Foster staying around a while?”

“Not as long as I’d like. She wants to have her babies here to ensure their dual citizenship, then they’re planning to return to Asgard. I’ll only have access to her brain for another five months or so.” Tony sipped morosely at his drink.

“Her babies are due in April, so she’ll probably head back for May or June,” Pepper explained. She signaled the bartender for a sparkling water before turning back to Steve. “So, you’re going to be my source for all child-rearing information.”

Pepper’s earnestness made Steve smile. “James Barnes in the daycare is also really good with this stuff. You might want to ask him.”

“You mean Natasha’s foster brother?” Pepper said. She nudged Tony. “I told you he’d be a good hire!”

“I never said otherwise!” Tony protested. He took Pepper’s hand. “And speaking of the devilishly handsome Mister Barnes, he’s just arrived with Ms. Romanova now.”

Steve turned to look before he could stop himself. Natasha was dressed in a dark green mid-length cocktail dress that made her eyes look like emeralds, while Bucky was wearing a black suit with a narrow black tie that emphasized his muscular body. His hair was in a French braid and he was clean-shaven, which just helped to highlight his well-sculpted face and silver eyes. He was so pretty it almost hurt.

Steve must have been staring a beat too long because he suddenly felt Pepper’s sharp gaze on him. “Steve?”

That made Tony’s head snap towards him. “Steve?” Tony repeated. He looked at where Bucky was laughing with Natasha about something and then back. “Wait. Do you have a thing for our delectable James?”

“No,” Steve lied.

“Lies,” Tony said immediately. “I saw the way you looked at him! Come on. I’ll call him over. You can talk to him.” Tony stood and waved him over before Steve could even react.

And then Bucky was standing right in front of him, in all his formally-attired glory.

Natasha and Pepper kissed on each cheek, and then made appreciative comments about the other’s fancy dress before turning to the men.

“Tony, you look as handsome as ever, and Steve, you look gorgeous. Doesn’t he look great, James?” Natasha said. Her expression was totally guileless, but Steve knew a ploy when he saw one.

“Yeah.” Bucky cleared his throat, looking everywhere but actually at Steve. “Yeah. He looks great.”

“So do you,” Steve said softly. He tried to catch Bucky’s eyes but the other man wouldn’t oblige.

The awkward moment was saved by the timely arrival of Sam, who was carrying two flute glasses of champagne. “I’m glad you’re all here,” he said to the group as he passed one of the glasses to Natasha. Steve couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers lingered on hers, or the warmth of his gaze as he looked at her. “I’d like you all to join me in a toast to the newest Director of Marketing for Stark Industries, Natasha Romanova!”

“Thank you,” Natasha said with a broad smile. She turned to Pepper. “I got my letter this morning. It was an excellent early Christmas present.”

“It was my pleasure to offer you the job," Pepper said. "After all the work you did to help with the StarkHeart release in the UK…well, it really was the least we could do to recognize your ability and talent.”

Natasha actually blushed at Pepper’s words, turning her body towards Sam to hide her face. That clinched it for Steve. He thought that something might have been going on between Sam and Natasha ever since Sam had made his interest known on their flight home from London, but neither one of them had said anything. Steve had let it go, knowing that the notoriously private Natasha would let him know when she was ready. Apparently, she was ready now. He opened his mouth to congratulate the new couple. Naturally Tony beat him to it.

“Well done Sam!” Tony crowed. “I can’t believe that Natasha has decided to slum it with you, but to each her own I guess. How long has this been going on?”

“Ever since her promotion was confirmed.” Sam’s smile was very wide.

“Just a few weeks,” Natasha agreed. “So far, so good.” She linked her hand in Sam’s.

“Congratulations,” Steve said to her. “Well deserved.” He meant more than just the promotion. Natasha deserved all the love in the world and he was very hopeful that Sam was the man who could give it to her.

“When’s the wedding?” Tony asked with his usual tact, which started a joking conversation between the rest of them about how long people needed to be together before they proposed. Steve found himself checking out of the debate, just as glad to not be discussing marriage when Peggy was still so much on his mind.

“You really do look great,” Bucky said quietly.

Steve turned to Bucky, once again struck by how handsome the other man was. “So do you, really,” Steve said. “I think you’re the best-looking guy here.” He blushed as soon as he realized what he’d said.

“I don’t know about that. I mean, we are standing by Tony and Sam. That’s some pretty tough competition.” Bucky's silver eyes were light with mirth.

Something inside Steve relaxed to see Bucky smiling and no longer avoiding his eyes. He took a sip of his scotch, then frowned when he realized his glass was empty. Bucky flagged the bartender over and ordered them both beers at Steve’s request. They clinked their glasses together and drank. The beer slipped down easily, the cool liquid contrasting nicely with the warmth Steve felt just being with Bucky.

“I missed you,” Steve said honestly.

Bucky laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You see me every day when you drop off Garett.”

“Its not the same.”

“Same as what?” Bucky said, and now there was a slight edge as he spoke even as he kept his voice low. “Skyping me from London? Pretending we were heading towards something when we weren’t?” He broke off speaking to take a sip of his beer. His whole body was stiff with anger.

“You’re right. I did lead you on. I’m sorry.”

“Damn right you did.” Bucky thinned his lips, then shook his head, the anger draining out of him. “Shit Steve, I really liked you. I thought we had something.”

“I like you too, and we did have something.” Steve took a breath. “But I realized too late that we can’t be together. And I’m sorry.”

Bucky sighed. “I should probably be the one apologizing. I shouldn’t have been hitting on you so soon after your wife died.” His lips turned up in an apologetic smile.

“Not your fault. It’s not like I told you how long it’d been.”

“I could’ve guessed from Garett’s age. He’s not even two. But even if he was older…well, it’s not like there’s a time limit on how long you’re meant to grieve.”

Steve paused for a moment, taking in Bucky’s words. He knew he was still grieving Peggy’s death, but it hadn’t occurred to him that Bucky would understand that, especially not after he’d rejected him. Although, if he was entirely honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if his grief over Peggy was what made him reject Bucky. He shook his head briefly to get rid of the confusing thought. Now wasn't the time to dwell on it. “Thanks,” he said finally. “I really appreciate you saying that.”

Bucky shrugged. “I lost a few guys when I lost my arm. It’s been a couple years, but the hurt’s still there. So yeah, I know how that feels.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said sincerely. “That’s really hard.”

“Sure is.” Bucky’s smile was more of a grimace. “And this time of year only makes it harder, y’know? Here I am, celebrating with my sister, looking forward to the holidays, and their families have to deal with missing them all over again.”

“It’s tough, to be the survivor,” Steve said. “I couldn’t do anything to save Peggy, but I would’ve happily died in her place.” He took a drink of his beer right after he’d said it, suddenly embarrassed. He’d never told anyone that before. Not even Tony, who might’ve understood.

“I get that,” Bucky said. “And for a while after I woke up in hospital, alive when Ward and Rumlow and Rollins weren’t, I felt exactly the same.”

“What changed?”

“I remembered that those guys were real assholes.” Bucky laughed. “But seriously? I knew that they wouldn’t’ve wanted that for me. We were all out there together. And even though we didn’t really like each other, we would’ve died for each other. Would’ve done anything to make sure we all got back safe. Me living is a way to honour that. A way to honour them. If that makes any sense.”

“Yeah, it does.” Steve chuffed out a laugh. “It’s the reason why I’m at this party. Peggy would’ve wanted to be here, instead of lying in the dark in my apartment. Crying.”

Bucky laughed at that and clinked their glasses together again. “Here’s to partying instead of lying in the dark.”

“Here’s to that,” Steve agreed. He took a swig, finishing his drink. It was his third of the evening, and already he could feel a buzz forming. It didn’t stop him from accepting another beer from the bartender, however. “And here’s to the best early childhood educator at the Tower!”

Bucky dipped his head to accept the compliment and raised his own glass. “Here’s to the best dad. Where is Garett, anyway?”

“Tony hired an off-site babysitting service to take care of the kids so that the daycare employees could attend. He’s good like that.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Damn, this is one sweet gig.”

You’re not so bad yourself. Steve just managed to not say the thought out loud. He knew that the alcohol he’d drunk was lowering his inhibitions and he really didn’t want to do anything else that might accidentally lead Bucky on. “Yeah, I felt pretty lucky when I landed this job.” He left out the part where Tony had offered him the position when they’d both been sobbing in each other’s arms after Peggy’s funeral.

“Y’know, I really did enjoy our late-night chats. What would be the chance of us picking those up again?” Bucky said, carefully not looking at Steve.

“Over Skype?”

Bucky laughed again. “Only if you’re away. No, I meant…I meant just talking.” His silver eyes met Steve’s, wide with vulnerability. “Like friends?”

“You want us to be friends? Even after everything?”

“Well, yeah.” Bucky shrugged. “You can never have too many friends, right?”

Steve’s mouth stretched into a smile. “I’d really like that.”

“Good.” Bucky smiled back.

“Good,” Steve repeated. He couldn’t stop smiling.

It was two days before Stark Industries was going to shut down for the Christmas Holidays and not reopen until the week after New Year’s. Anticipation and excitement among SI employees was high, and there wasn’t really a ton of work that got done in the last week before the break.

Steve was enjoying the sense of happiness that permeated in the office, and the relatively easy workdays, which felt like a break before the break.

He was also contemplating when he should give Bucky the Christmas gift he’d gotten for him. It had been a little disappointing when Steve found out that Bucky actually celebrated Chanukah instead, but he’d decided to give Bucky his gift for Christmas anyway and do better next year. It made Steve happy to think of having a ‘next year’ with Bucky around. He was really glad they were friends again.

Thinking about Bucky in general made Steve happy. Bucky had clearly meant it when he’d said that he wanted to be Steve’s friend at the Gala. He'd been texting Steve on a regular basis, and they’d even made time to hang out after work. Garett had been thrilled to have ‘Buggy’ both during the day and after hours, and Bucky’s obvious affection for his son made it even easier for Steve to have Bucky around.

Truth be told, he’d love to have Bucky around all the time. But they were just friends now. Which, Steve thought with a sigh, was probably for the best. There were far too many reasons that they shouldn’t be together. Bucky’s young age and Steve’s advanced one being only one of them.

His phone pinged indicating a new text, and Steve found himself smiling again as he reached for his phone, wondering what Bucky had sent. The smile slipped off his face.

Garett’s just spiked a fever the text read. Can you please come get him?

On my way, Steve texted back immediately. He sent a quick email to Sam and Natasha to let them know that Garett was sick, grabbed his suit jacket and was at the elevator in less than a minute. His heart was racing.

He took a deep breath, and then another, trying to get his heart rate back in check. Garett was fine. He’d be fine. It was normal for children to get fevers when they were little. Garett had just been lucky and hadn’t had one yet, so it was fine that he had one now. There was no reason for Steve to worry.

His attempts to calm himself down weren’t helping. Steve was practically running by the time he reached the daycare.

Bucky was standing out front, Garett’s backpack slung over his shoulder and a weeping Garett in his arms. The baby’s lips were bright red and his cheeks pink, sure signs of fever. Steve took him immediately, scooping up his son and resting Garett’s head against the crook of his neck. Garett’s forehead was hot, and Steve could feel the heat from his little body even through his clothes.

“He’s really sick,” he said unnecessarily. It felt like the blood had turned to ice in his veins.

“Yeah. He’s the third sick kid this week. But it’s pretty normal for kids to get sick when they start daycare. Their immune systems are learning just like the rest of them.” Bucky's smile was reassuring and Steve felt himself relax a little bit. “Take him home, give him a cool bath and some baby Tylenol and see if he’ll drink something for you. That’s the most important thing, that he’s drinking.”

“Okay. Should he drink before his bath?” He wished he knew more about what to do.

“Before, during, after. Whenever you can get fluid into him,” Bucky said. “And call me if you need anything. If you have questions, or if you’re worried, or…well just call me, okay?”

“Yeah, call you. For sure.” Steve tried to smile but he was too afraid. He took Garett’s bag from Bucky’s outstretched hand. “I’m going to take him home.”

“You do that,” Bucky said. “And don’t forget to call me.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Steve said over his shoulder. He hugged Garett tighter, his heart was pounding in his chest. “Let’s get you home.”

Steve did exactly what Bucky told him to do. He put Garett in a cool bath, gave him Tylenol and got him to drink a bit of apple juice before settling in on the couch to watch Teletubbies reruns until Garett fell asleep in his arms.

Only Garett wasn’t sleeping. He was restless and cranky and obviously uncomfortable. His temperature was still high, making the digital thermometer turn red before it beeped it’s ‘fever’ graphic.

Then he threw up the apple juice he’d just drank all over Steve’s chest and immediately started crying.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Steve crooned, trying to keep the sound of panic out of his voice. He headed right back to the bathroom, barely pausing to take off his soiled dress shirt and the soaked undershirt underneath, dropping them in the hallway as he went.

He ran another cool bath and eased Garett in. Garett attempted to play with his bath toys and patted listlessly at the water. He was still crying, small hiccupping sounds that broke Steve’s heart.

Gently Steve poured cool water over Garett’s head, hoping that wetting his thick curls would bring him some relief. Garett screamed in annoyance and smacked at the plastic cup, sending it flying out of Steve’s hands and the water down Steve’s pants.

Then Garett vomited again, stringy and full of mucous. He started crying in earnest.

Steve pulled the plug and scooped Garett out of the tub. The baby was still warm and still crying piteously and Steve felt like crying himself. He wrapped Garett in a towel and took him out of the bathroom. The cooler air of the apartment hit his wet and naked skin, and Steve felt himself shiver.

He’d get dressed and dry in a minute. His baby needed him.

Steve cradled Garett in one arm as he went to the kitchen to get the Tylenol. He found the bottle and managed to open it one-handed. Getting the right dose was more tricky, but he’d just about managed it when Garett kicked out and caught his wrist.

The bottle of Tylenol immediately tipped over, spilling sticky red fluid onto the counter top and dripping onto the floor.

Steve swore and tried to upright the bottle before it all spilled, but he was too late. Garett was still crying, his face wet with tears and saliva. He was arching his back and kicking and Steve had to grab him with both hands so he wouldn’t fall.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve muttered, pressing Garett to his chest and trying to rock him, one hand under his bum, the other on his back.

He felt the exact moment when Garett pooed as something warm and liquid formed under his hand. The smell was terrible.

Steve went back to the bathroom. He rinsed out the tub and refilled it, leaving the soiled towel in a corner of the room. He’d grab it, and his dirty clothes, and clean the mess the Tylenol had made once Garett was down for the night.

If he could get Garett down. That was the only bottle of Tylenol he had. He had some children’s Advil, but didn’t Advil hurt your stomach? Garett was already vomiting. Maybe Advil wasn’t a good idea?

This time he held Garett under the tap as he washed off the poo with a nearby washcloth and some of Garett’s shampoo that he was able to manage one-handed. Garett was still weeping but seemed to appreciate being clean. Steve threw the washcloth to land on the soiled towel and put the plug back in.

He sat Garett back down in the tub, close enough to the running tap so that he wouldn’t be chilled as the bath filled with warm water. Although with his high temperature, maybe the bath should be colder? Steve felt so inadequate. There was so much about this that he just didn’t know.

Garett was looking up at him, his big blue eyes shiny with tears. “Daddy,” he said, “Hur'.” He put his fingers on his neck.

“What do you mean, baby?” Steve hadn’t heard Garett say that word before.

“Hur'!” Garett said again. “My, my froat. Hur'. Daddy.”

“Your throat hurts?” He had no idea Garett knew those words. Bucky he thought. It must have been Bucky’s teaching at the daycare.

“Daddy, my froat hur'. Stop froat hur' daddy. Peas?”

Steve blinked back his own tears as he looked down at his son’s trusting face. “Oh baby, I can’t. I can’t make your throat stop hurting. You’re sick and I can’t fix that. I’m so sorry.”

“Daddy, no stop froat?”

“I can’t,” Steve repeated. He’d never felt like more of a failure in his entire life than he did at that moment. He wiped at his eyes.

“Don' cry, daddy,” Garett said. He patted Steve’s hand. “Don' cry.”

Steve got Garett dried and dressed in cozy pajamas. The bath had helped to cool him down and he’d been able to drink some apple juice despite his sore throat. Garett was now dozing against Steve’s chest, wetting Steve’s bare skin with warm fluid as he drooled. Steve was sitting on the couch, reruns of Blue’s Clues playing softly on the television. He still had to clean up the mess he’d made earlier, but he was loathe to move if it meant that Garett woke up.

Gingerly, Steve reached into his dress pants pocket and took out his cell phone. He was surprised to realize it was way past nine p.m. and that he’d been struggling to get Garett comfortable since before four. His stomach growled at the realization that he hadn’t eaten anything since noon. Too bad, he thought grimly to himself. His baby was more important.

There were at least ten missed texts from Bucky, all politely asking Steve to let him know how Garett was doing and if he needed anything. It made Steve smile for what felt like the first time all evening. He liked knowing how much Bucky cared.

He texted back, giving Bucky a quick run-down of his evening and ending with a question about using Advil instead of Tylenol for the next time Garett’s fever spiked.

Give it to him as soon as he wakes up, Bucky wrote back. Even if he doesn’t have a fever, it will help with his sore throat.

That was great advice actually, and Steve felt his shoulders relax knowing that Bucky was there and knew what to do. Will do, he typed back. His phone vibrated in his hand.

“Want me to come over?” Bucky said in lieu of greeting. Just hearing his voice made Steve smile.

Steve paused before reluctantly answering: “It’s late. And Garett’s sleeping now. I think we’re okay. But thanks for offering. That’s really kind.”

“I’m awake, and at this hour I can Uber it there in less than forty minutes. Just say the word.”

Steve closed his eyes for a second, willing himself to keep saying no. He and Bucky’s friendship had just been repaired. It seemed like way too much to ask for him to drop everything and come over no matter how much Steve would want it. “It’s late and cold outside. And it’s only six days until Christmas. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“I already had my holiday.” Bucky laughed. “Chanukah ended December 10th. I brought cookies to the daycare, remember?”

Steve smiled. “They were really good.”

“Baked them myself.” Bucky’s pride was evident. “I’m going to make someone a great wife one day.”

That made Steve laugh. “Are you saying only women can make cookies?”

“I’m saying that feminism means that men can do whatever jobs they want, too. Including being a wife.” Steve could hear the smile in Bucky’s voice. “And I’d be a great one.”

Yes, you would be a great life partner, Steve thought. Bucky was total marriage material. He’d make someone very happy one day. He shoved down the small voice that whimpered at the idea of Bucky belonging to someone else. Bucky couldn’t be his. There was no sense in forgetting that.

“Let me come over?” Bucky said. “Please?”

Steve really wanted to say yes. But it was late, and cold and it wasn’t fair to ask Bucky to do that. Not when he had things mostly under control. “I’ll be fine.”

Bucky’s sigh was audible over the phone. “Will you at least call me tomorrow? Let me know that Garett’s okay?”

“I will, I promise.”

“Okay,” Bucky sighed again, and then: “You sure I can’t come over?”

“I’m sure.” Steve laughed, then winced at the twinge in his throat. “But I will call you tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay,” Bucky repeated. “Sleep well Steve. Kiss Garett for me?”

“I will.” Steve smiled. “Good night.”

Bucky hung up, and immediately Steve felt terribly alone.

He was hungry and tired and feeling cold in the cool air of his apartment. But Garett was asleep so he wasn’t going anywhere. He shifted as much as he could to try to make himself more comfortable, then closed his eyes.

He felt asleep to the rhythmic sounds of Garett breathing.

Steve woke suddenly to the sound of Garett crying and the feeling of warm vomit flowing down his rib cage.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Steve murmured. The feeling of rapidly-cooling vomit was totally disgusting, but Steve knew that Garett had to feel much worse. He picked up his crying baby and took him back to the bathroom. His throat felt thick and prickled when he swallowed, but he ignored it. It was just because he was tired.

“Froat hur'!” Garett wept. His voice sounded rough and his cheeks were bright red with his fever.

“I know baby, I know,” Steve said as he bathed his son again. He dried him, put on a new diaper and redressed him in clean pajamas before taking him to the kitchen. The clock on the microwave showed that it was just past 1 a.m. They’d been asleep for less than four hours.

Steve was able to get Garett to have some Advil, but it was obvious that swallowing was still painful. He refused to have any more apple juice, forcing Steve’s hands away again and again.

“What about tea?” Steve said desperately. He turned the kettle on, already figuring he’d make tea, dilute it with cold water and add some honey to make it more appealing.

“Wanna nanna!” Garett said, tears streaming down his face.

“Okay, I can do that,” Steve said. It wasn’t liquid, but it was probably a good sign that his son wanted something to eat. He put Garett in his high chair and got a banana, mashing it with a fork and heating it in the microwave until it was soft and sweet but not too hot. He gave it to Garett with a spoon.

Garett took a bite, and for a moment, he stopped crying. Then he swallowed.

He cried out in pain and shoved the bowl off the high chair, where it landed on the floor, spraying banana everywhere.

“Shit!” Steve moved far too late to catch the bowl, stepping in the Tylenol that had pooled on the floor from earlier.

The kettle started whistling, which seemed to prompt Garett to wail louder.

“God damn it!” Steve’s sock was now soaked with sticky red liquid, and he peeled it off, leaving it on the floor. He grabbed a sippy cup and a mug, made some mint tea with honey before cooling it with water and putting it into the cup. He got one of the baby face cloths he stored in the kitchen and washed Garett’s tear-stained face before handing him the sippy cup. “I made you tea.”

Garett threw it on the floor, still wailing.

Steve picked it off the floor. “Baby, I really need you to drink this.”

“No!” Garett threw it on the floor again.

“Garett!” Steve said forcefully, then grimaced from the pain in his throat. “You have to drink this. You’ll be sick if you don’t.”

“No! no, no, no, no!” It went back on the floor.

“Damn it!” Steve swore. “Garett, you will drink this right now!”

“No! No daddy. No drin'!”

“Enough Garett! That’s enough! Drink it!” He pushed the sippy cup spout into Garett’s mouth. Garett turned his head away, pushing at Steve’s hands, screaming and sobbing.

Steve grabbed both of Garett’s hands in one of his and pressed them against his son’s chest, forcing him back against the highchair. He put the spout into Garett’s mouth, using his fingers to hold Garett’s head still. “Drink!” he commanded. His tone was exactly like the one he used with his soldiers when he’d been a captain.

Garett drank, fat tears rolling down his face the whole time.

“Good boy,” Steve sighed and let go of Garett’s hands. He went to stroke Garett’s face, but the little boy scowled and turned his head.

“Bad daddy.”

“I know baby, and I’m sorry. But if you don’t drink you’ll get sick and I’ll—”

Garett threw up, a messy mixture of mint tea, mucous and banana, streaked with the lurid pink colour from the liquid Advil. He started bawling again.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Steve raked his hands through his hair. He was cold from being bare-chested, exhausted from lack of sleep, hungry since he hadn’t eaten in at least twelve hours and his throat hurt, and he had no idea how to help his child. He wanted to sit down on the floor and cry, but that wouldn’t solve anything. He took a deep breath, then another, trying to centre himself. “What would Peggy do?” he whispered. His mind stayed completely blank. It hurt to realize that he had no idea what his late wife would’ve done in this situation. He felt the ache of tears in his throat.

He took another deep breath. “Okay,” he muttered. “What would Bucky do?” That was easier. He grabbed the syringe that came with the Advil bottle and gently picked up Garett and the sippy cup, once again returning to the bathroom.

The pile of dirty linen was getting bigger, especially after the addition of Steve’s socks and Garett’s current pair of pajamas. He was running low on pairs of pajamas for his son but there was nothing he could do about it now. He’d run a laundry when Garett fell asleep.

He put Garett back in the bath of cool water, which just made the child scream louder. Steve wanted to scream too, but Garett had thrown up his last dose of Advil, and Steve didn’t know if giving him more was a good idea or would poison his child. He pulled out his phone to call Bucky to ask, but it was barely 2 a.m. He slid the phone onto the vanity and focused back on Garett.

“How you doing, buddy?”

Garett splashed him with water, rewetting his pants. Steve gritted his teeth as the wet cloth immediately clung to him, making him even colder than he’d been. He opened the sippy cup and filled the syringe with the tea.

“Want to play dolphins?” Steve asked. He pulled out the container of bath toys he kept under the skin, and held up Garett’s favourite, a wind-up dolphin whose tail propelled it through the water.

“No!” Garett cried, but reached out with both hands for the toy.

Steve wound it up and put it in the water, where it immediately took all of Garett’s focus, and gave Steve the opportunity to slip the syringe into the side of Garett’s mouth, and shoot a bit of liquid down his throat.

Garett coughed, and glared at him.

“Can I give you more?” Steve asked.

“No,” Garett said. But he opened his mouth.

Steve injected more fluid into Garett’s mouth, and then rewound the dolphin toy. He repeated this sequence several more times until he’d managed to get half the sippy cup of liquid into his son. Garett’s red cheeks had also faded in the cool water and his eyes began to droop with his fatigue.

Steve took him out, dried and diapered him, and redressed him in clean pajamas, before tucking him into his crib. Garett was asleep almost instantly, and Steve sagged with relief. He switched on the monitor and went to his room, stepping over the dirty shirts he’d left in the hall. He was freezing, and all he wanted to do was get into a hot shower and then put his aching body to bed. Because his body was aching, he suddenly realized. His head hurt, and his throat hurt every time he swallowed. Nothing like sitting on a tile floor for hours, he thought wryly. He really needed some sleep.

Wearily he put on a t-shirt and track pants, and instantly felt better for being warm. He looked at his bed and sighed. He wanted to sleep so badly, but the apartment was a mess. He had to run a laundry and there was medicine and banana drying on the kitchen floor.

He didn’t move. Five minutes, he thought. He’d just lie down and get warm for a few minutes and then he’d go deal with the many disasters throughout his living space. He crawled into his bed, sighing with contentment. It felt so good to be warm and lying down and finally able to sleep… His eyes closed.

He woke to the shrill sound of Garett crying through the monitor’s speaker.

Steve was up and in Garett’s room with his baby in his arms before he’d fully woken up. Garett hadn’t vomited this time, which was a small miracle, but Steve could smell the fact his diaper was full and feel the heat coming off Garett’s skin. His fever was back.

Steve changed Garett and then took his snuffling baby to the kitchen. It was five thirty, which Steve figured was enough time between doses for him to be able to give Garett more Advil. He found another syringe and gave Garett another dose. Garett took it without fussing, but he refused anything to drink. Steve was too tired to fight. He was exhausted and sore and every time he swallowed it felt like he was drinking down shards of glass. His skin felt prickly as well and he was still deeply chilled. He knew Garett needed more liquid, but the baby was already half-asleep. He’d give him more after they’d both had enough rest.

Steve put Garett back into his crib and then went back to his room, once again stepping over the shirts in the hallway. He’d get them in the morning.

He crawled back into bed, wishing he felt warm.

Someone was pounding on his door.

Steve stumbled out of bed to go see who was making all that racket. The clock on his bedside table said that it a quarter after eight in the morning, which meant he was late for work. But wasn’t there a reason he wasn’t at work?

Garett! His son was sick. He was home to take care of his son. Who hadn’t woken up even though someone was pounding on the door. Steve bolted to Garett’s room.

Garett was still sleeping, his little chest rising and falling with his breathing. Steve braced himself against the wall as Garett’s room spun slowly around him. He wasn’t sure if the dizziness was from his relief that his baby was okay, or because of how fast he’d moved from his bedroom or both, but it took a moment for his head to settle.

The pounding hadn’t stopped.

Steve went to the door, stepping over the laundry in the hallway once again. He was shivering even though he was still wearing the track pants and T-shirt he’d put on earlier that morning. His skin still felt prickly and sore, and his throat hurt every time he swallowed. His head felt like it was pounding with every bang on the door. He pulled it open.

Bucky was standing on the other side, metal hand raised to continue knocking. His hair was down, and his eyes were wild with fear.

“Bucky?” Steve rasped, then winced. Speaking felt like rubbing sandpaper over his vocal chords.

“Steve!” Bucky’s voice was full of relief. “Jesus! I was so scared.” He stepped into the apartment.

“Scared?” Steve repeated. He let Bucky pass by him into the apartment, then winced at what he knew Bucky would be seeing. In the light of day, the apartment looked even worse than it had the night before. There was an obvious vomit stain on the couch and dirty laundry in the hallway, and that was only the mess that was visible from the door.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Bucky explained as he toed off his boots and put down the duffle bag he’d been carrying. “And Natasha said she hadn’t heard from you. And since I knew Garett was sick…” He shrugged. “I was worried.”

“My phone? I always answer my phone,” Steve said, then grimaced. His throat was really sore.

“I called seven times.”

“I never heard it.” Then Steve realized why. He gave Bucky an apologetic look. “I think I left it in the bathroom.”

“Probably because you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick. I’m fine.” Steve made a face with the pain in his throat. Bucky shot him a look. “Mostly fine?”

Garett chose that moment to start crying.

Both men immediately started down the hallway, but Bucky paused at the dirty shirts on the floor, allowing Steve get to Garett first. Garett was hot again, and he’d vomited and now it was not only all over his pajamas but also the sheets in his crib. Steve sighed. Bucky was steps behind him.

“Rough night?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Don’t answer that. I can tell. You look like shit and you sound worse. Steve. You should’ve let me come over.”

“I’m fine,” Steve repeated. “I just need to get Garett cleaned up.” He bent over to lift Garett out of the crib—and nearly fell down.

“Jesus!” Bucky grabbed him by his arms to help steady him. “Steve, you’re burning up!”

“I’m fine,” Steve said again. “I’m just tired.”

“You’re sick,” Bucky corrected him. “You probably have the same thing Garett does.” He led Steve over the rocking chair in Garett’s room and made him sit down. “You stay here. I’ll get Garett cleaned up, and then we’re going to go down to the walk-in clinic in the lobby and get you two looked at.”

“No, Bucky, it’s okay,” Steve said. “You don’t have to—” But Bucky had already picked up Garett, taken the whimpering baby and left the room.

Steve let his head sag against the back of the chair and his eyes close. He felt a strange combination of terrible guilt for Bucky being there and immense relief that he was. He really was feeling pretty awful, and the idea of trying to take care of a sick baby while he felt like this was overwhelming enough to make him want to cry.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew was Bucky gently shaking him awake. Garett was in his arms, looking both clean and miserable at the same time.

“Can I get you to hold him for a minute?” Steve nodded and let Bucky give him Garett before he left the room again. Garett snuggled against him, a ball of warm misery. Bucky was back less than two minutes later. “I changed the crib sheets and threw in a wash. It should be ready for the dryer by the time we’re back.” Bucky took Garett from Steve’s arms. “Can you stand?”

Steve nodded and stood, trying hard not to talk. Bucky made Steve put on a sweatshirt and then took him and Garett straight down to the walk-in clinic in the lobby of Stark Tower, walking close enough to Steve that their arms brushed. He looked over at Steve with a worried expression every few steps. Steve tried to look as capable and healthy as possible, but Bucky’s expression didn’t change.

It was the Friday before the Christmas holidays and Stark Industries was already at less than half-staff, which mean the clinic was even more empty than usual. Steve and Garett were in to see the doctor within minutes of their arrival, were given a diagnosis and free medicine from the Stark pharmacy and were back upstairs in just over twenty minutes.

“Strep throat sucks,” Bucky said sympathetically. “No wonder you both look terrible.”

“Thanks,” Steve muttered. He was sitting on a dry area of the couch, beside where Bucky had spot-cleaned the vomit stain off the fabric, sipping on a warm cup of tea made with lemons and fresh ginger and liberally laced with honey that Bucky had made. It was delicious and wonderfully soothing to his sore throat and Steve couldn’t believe how thoughtful Bucky was. Something occurred to him and he frowned. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I took the day off,” Bucky said, looking up from where he was sitting on one of the living room chairs, Garett on his lap. He was feeding Garett the same delicious tea by pretending the sippy cup was a monster that only Garett’s mouth could stop. He’d used a similar technique to give Garett some more Tylenol and the antibiotics that Steve had received from the pharmacy. It had only been a few minutes, but Steve would’ve sworn that Garett looked better already.

“Good job!” Bucky exclaimed to a giggling Garett. “You stopped the lemon monster! You drank all of your tea!” He held the sippy cup upside down to illustrate.

“I drink sippy cup all gone,” Garett said proudly. “No no monster.”

“You sure did, buddy,” Bucky kissed Garett on the crown of his head. “And now I think it’s nap time. What do you think?”

“No,” Garett said automatically. Then: “Buggy read story?”

“I can do that.” Bucky tapped Garett’s nose before standing with the child in his arms. He turned to Steve. “You going to be okay there for a minute while I put Garett down for a nap?” Steve nodded, and Bucky grinned before turning down the hallway. Steve sipped his tea, feeling both better with his own dose of medicine on board and exhausted down to his bones. He was so grateful Bucky was there he could’ve cried.

He heard Bucky come back into the living room, and then felt as the other man stroked his hands through his hair. They were wonderfully cool against his skin, and Steve leaned his head into the touch. “That didn’t take you long,” Steve said.

“Garett was asleep before I finished the first page,” Bucky said. “And don’t talk. I know it hurts. Do you feel up for taking a shower?”

A shower sounded like total bliss. Steve stood and Bucky walked with him to the bathroom. “I’m not going to perv on you, but I’m leaving the door open in case you need anything,” Bucky said. “Don’t run the water too hot. I don’t want you to faint.”

Steve grinned and nodded. The idea of leaving the door open probably should’ve bothered him more, but he honestly didn’t mind the idea of Bucky seeing him naked. Especially if the favour could be returned. He shook off the thought. I’m just feverish, he told himself.

Even though he’d quashed any chance of a relationship back in October, Steve knew he was still attracted to Bucky. Which was an awkward thing to realize when he was standing naked in his shower with the man in question just down the hall. But it was true. There wasn’t anything about Bucky that Steve didn’t like. He was gorgeous, no question, but it was his intelligence and his compassion that really turned Steve’s head. And the way he took care of Garett would’ve probably made Steve fall for him all on its own. Bucky truly was marriage material.

Steve indulged himself in the fantasy that he and Bucky were a couple while he washed. He imagined living with Bucky: the two of them raising Garett together; the way that Bucky’s blue eyes would light up when Steve came home at night; the way they’d darken with passion when Steve caressed him in the bedroom….

Steve grit his teeth against the wave of lust that thought produced. Now was not the time for him to be getting turned on by fantasizing about Bucky. Not when the door to the bathroom was open and Bucky could walk in at any moment and see Steve touching himself. Not when Bucky had promised not to perv on him, when clearly Steve was the one who should have done the promising.

Quickly he rinsed off and got out of the shower, glad his erection deflated in the cooler air. He dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist, feeling suddenly exhausted. That short shower had taken everything out of him, and now all he wanted was to go to bed. He staggered back to his room.

Bucky was just finishing putting a new cover on his duvet. He beamed at Steve. “You look better.”

Steve smiled wanly back. “I feel like shit.”

“Go to bed,” Bucky said. “I’ll hang around in case Garett needs me.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but then realized he just didn’t have the strength. “Just for a few hours,” he said instead. “Don’t waste your day off.”

“Sure,” Bucky agreed readily. “Don’t talk.”

“And if I don’t get up when Garett cries, wake me.”

“Absolutely,” Bucky nodded. “But I’m going to take the monitor to the living room with me. Just in case.” Steve wasn’t sure what the ‘just in case’ would be, but he was too tired to ask. He took the track pants that Bucky gave him then watched dully as Bucky picked up the monitor and gestured towards the door. “I’m going to hang out in the living room for a bit. Maybe watch some Netflix.”

“Wake me in a few hours,” Steve said. He really didn’t want Bucky to spend his whole day off taking care of him.

“Stop talking,” Bucky said with a broad smile. “And go to bed.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve grinned. He climbed into bed. It was absolute bliss to be lying on cool, clean sheets. He sighed in contentment.

Bucky stroked his hand through Steve’s hair. “All good?”

It’d be better if you were with me, Steve thought. “Thanks,” he said instead. “Thanks for the sheets, and for staying, and for—"

“You’re welcome, and stop talking,” Bucky said with mock sternness. “Now go to sleep.”

“Okay,” Steve yawned. His eyes slipped closed.

He felt something brush his forehead. Light as a kiss. He fell asleep, smiling.

When Steve woke again it was dark. His room was draped in shadows, barely penetrated by the light from the streetlamps so many floors below.

He felt like shit, hot and sore and slightly nauseous. The feeling of hunger he’d had before was totally gone and swallowing felt like his throat was filled with razor blades. All he wanted to do was roll over and go back to sleep, but something had woken him up.

It had to have been Garrett. The thought of his baby, sick and needing his daddy was enough to get Steve out of bed. He staggered to the door, and then across the hallway to Garett’s room.

Garett wasn’t in his crib.

Steve blinked, unsure how to process the fact his child was missing. He left and went down the hallway to the living room, wondering if he should start to panic. “Garett?” he called. His voice was a feeble rasp that set his throat on fire.

“Here,” Bucky said softly. He was in the living room, walking with a sleeping Garett resting against his shoulder. Bucky was gently patting Garett’s behind as he walked. “Babies fall asleep easier if you tap their bums like this,” Bucky explained. “They really like movement.”

Steve grunted in response, afraid of the pain that speaking might bring. He felt a dull relief that Garett was with Bucky but it was like his brain wasn’t working properly. He moved to the couch and sat down heavily. He looked at Bucky and tilted his head.

“He stared whimpering, so I gave him some more medicine,” Bucky explained, clearly reading the question on Steve’s face. “He had more water too, which is really good. It wasn’t too hard to get him back down.”

Steve nodded, once again marveling at how good Bucky was with Garett.

“How you feeling?” Bucky asked.

Steve shook his head.

“That bad, huh?” Bucky’s expression was sympathetic. “Let me put Garett into his crib and I’ll come back and take care of you, okay?” He left before Steve could even give a response.

Steve leaned back against the couch cushions, feeling absolutely miserable. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this bad, but he thought it might’ve been when he’d gotten pneumonia as a child. He remembered his body aching like this, but the pain in his throat was something else. He couldn’t even swallow without feeling like the inside was being scraped raw with barbed wire.

But it felt amazing to know that Bucky was there and taking care of him and Garett, especially as Steve was so sick right now he had no idea how he’d function on his own. He’d never been sick when he’d been with Peggy. It was strange to realize that he’d have no idea how she’d have responded to all this. Probably with her usual fearsome efficiency. The thought made him smile.

“This’ll help,” Bucky said as he lay a cool, damp cloth on Steve’s forehead. It felt amazing and Steve sighed in relief. “You like that, yeah?” He could hear the smile in Bucky’s voice. “I’m going to get you some medicine.” Steve heard him head into the kitchen. He let his eyes drift closed, enjoying the simple pleasure of the cloth on his skin.

Bucky was back in a few minutes. “No sleeping yet.” Bucky stroked his cheek. “I need you to take your medicine first.”

Obediently Steve opened his eyes. It hurt like fuck, but he swallowed the pills that Bucky gave him. “I gave you Advil and your antibiotics,” Bucky explained. “But it would be great if you could have some more water.” He held the straw towards Steve again.

Steve really, really didn’t want to drink, but he knew that he had to. He drank the whole glass Bucky offered him, wincing in pain the entire time.

“That’s good. You’re doing really good, Steve,” Bucky praised him like he was the same age as Garett. It should’ve been annoying, but Steve found it strangely pleasant. He liked the idea that he was being cared for, even if it wasn’t Peggy. He liked Bucky. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have him in his life. Steve smiled at Bucky, hoping he could convey how much he meant to him without words.

Bucky’s eyes crinkled in response. “Happy to help.” He stroked Steve’s head.

Steve leaned into the touch. He still felt terrible, but there was a small part of him that wished that Bucky would stroke him like that all over.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Bucky said quietly. He took the cloth off Steve’s forehead and then helped him to his feet.

Love to have you in my bed, Steve thought to himself. He grinned.

“Yeah, sleep’s a great idea,” Bucky said in response to Steve’s smile. “You’ll probably feel a whole lot better when you wake up.”

They made their way to Steve’s bedroom, and Bucky helped him back into bed as gently as he’d helped him off the couch. He tucked Steve in and then left, assuring Steve he’d be back in a moment.

Steve barely had time to turn on his side before Bucky was back, cloth in hand. “I re-cooled it for you,” Bucky said as he placed it back on Steve’s forehead. “And I checked on Garett, too. He’s sleeping and his temperature is definitely down.”

Steve smiled at the news that Garett was okay. He reached out and carefully stroked Bucky’s cheek. He was so damn happy Bucky was there.

“I like you too,” Bucky smiled. “Now go sleep.”

Steve closed his eyes.

When Steve woke, Bucky was still there. He found Bucky feeding Garett in the kitchen.

“I feel better,” Steve croaked. It was mostly true. His throat felt more like sandpaper scraped against it and less like it was being flayed by dull knives.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Bucky said as he gave Garett a spoonful of mashed banana.

“Nana!” Garett exclaimed gleefully. He clapped his hands. It was obvious that Garett’s immune system was working faster than Steve’s.

“I’m fine, really,” Steve said. “You can go home, if you want.”

“Sure thing.” Bucky grinned at him. He popped another spoonful of banana into Garett’s mouth. The banana concoction Bucky had made looked really good, actually. Steve’s stomach growled.

“How about you go take a shower and I’ll make us soup and toast for lunch?” Bucky said.

“Okay,” Steve said, and shuffled towards the bathroom to take his shower. It was only when the hot spray was falling over his body that Steve realized that Bucky hadn’t said he was going to leave.

“Seriously,” Steve said the day after. “I’ve been on antibiotics for at least three days. I’m feeling lots better, promise.”

“That’s really great.” Bucky smiled broadly at him. He was sitting on the floor with Garett, playing a complicated game that involved stacking wooden blocks and then knocking them down. Garett would stack the blocks, then push them over while intoning solemnly “All fall dow',” and then laugh. Bucky’s job was to hand him the blocks for stacking.

Steve let himself enjoy the picture of Garett and Bucky playing together, wishing he had his sketchpad with him so he could draw the two of them with their heads bent together, radiating happiness. He wished it could stay like that forever.

But Bucky wasn’t his. He needed to go home, to be with the people he loved. Not wasting time with Steve.

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve,” Steve tried again. “And you’ve been sleeping on my couch. Don’t you want to go home and sleep somewhere comfortable?”

Bucky gave a block to Garett before sitting upright. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” The word came out of his mouth faster than Steve could trap it behind his teeth. He didn’t want Bucky to go. “I mean, not if you don’t have to?”

Bucky’s smile turned into something incredibly sweet. “I don’t have anywhere I’d rather be than right here.”

Steve smiled back, but then bit his lip as he remembered something. “But what about Natasha? Aren’t you going to celebrate with her?”

“Jewish, remember? Nat and I always do a big thing with each other some time during Chanukah. And she’s actually Eastern Orthodox. Well, she’s non-practicing, but we also get together in early January to celebrate, which is usually just to buy stuff on sale and then eat way too much Russian food. If we spend Christmas Day together at all its normally just Netflix and Chinese takeout.” Bucky’s smile turned shy. “I’d kind of like to celebrate Christmas with you and Garett, if that’s okay?”

Steve couldn’t help but beam at him. “Yeah, that’d be fine.”

Steve had bought way too many presents for Garett.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll buy less next year?”

Bucky laughed as he finished arranging the presents in a pleasing semi-circle. “I think it’s fine. Honest.”

It was well after 11 o’clock on Christmas Eve, and the apartment was quiet, save for the reassuring sound of Garett’s breathing coming through the baby monitor. It’d been harder to put him down to sleep that night, which Bucky chalked up to Garett sensing Steve’s excitement for the next morning. Steve had been on antibiotics for five days at this point, and he finally felt almost completely better. He was still tired, but his throat didn’t hurt, and his appetite had returned to normal.

“Come on,” Steve said, gently tugging Bucky to the couch and making sure he sat. He went to the kitchen. “Irish coffee, cocoa or beer?”

“Cocoa,” Bucky said promptly, “but only if there’s liquor in it. But I can get it. You should sit—”

“No.” Steve smiled at Bucky over his shoulder. “You’ve been caring for me and Garett all week. Let me do something for you.”

Bucky mumbled something that Steve couldn’t hear, but dutifully he sat back down. Steve finished making the hot chocolate, liberally lacing them both with Kahlua, before returning to the living room. “Ta da!”

Bucky took the offered mug and took a sip. “This is great, thanks.”

“I love this part,” Steve sighed as he settled back against the couch. “When the presents are all laid out and the tree is lit, and everything is silent.”

“It is really peaceful,” Bucky agreed. “Christmas wasn’t a big thing with my foster family.”

“It wasn’t?”

Bucky’s mouth thinned. “They were…not very nice people. At least not to us foster kids. I think their own kids did okay.”

Steve’s brow furrowed at the idea of Natasha and Bucky being treated badly by the same adults who were meant to care for them. “No wonder you and Natasha became so close.”

That made Bucky smile. “I do wonder at that, actually. She’s four years older than I am, and I was only seven when I went into foster care. I was also quiet and really shy. I’m surprised she had any time for me whatsoever.”

“She must’ve seen something special in you,” Steve said. He could believe it. It wasn’t hard to see how special Bucky was at all.

“Maybe? She probably felt sorry for me, more like.”

Steve nudged Bucky’s shoulder with his own. “I doubt that.”

“You don’t believe me?” Bucky said with mock offense. He pulled out his phone. “I’m going to text her and ask.”

“Don’t.” Steve put his hand over Bucky’s, trying to ignore the shiver of pleasure that that mild contact brought. “It’s late.” What he really meant was: I don’t want anyone else intruding on this moment. But there was no way he was going to say that out loud.

“True.” Bucky checked his phone’s clock. “It’s almost midnight.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, watching the lights change colour on the Christmas tree. Steve drank some more of his cocoa, enjoying the heat and the way the Kahlua added a layer of sour-sweetness that deepened the flavour. He sighed in contentment, letting his side touch Bucky’s.

A chime pinged on Bucky’s phone and he broke out into a smile. He stood and went to the tree, handing Steve a silver-and-red wrapped package. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“Thanks!” Steve exclaimed happily. He went to open it, then paused. “Should I wait until morning?”

“It is Christmas Morning,” Bucky nudged his shoulder.

Steve beamed and tore open the packaging. He’d been curious about the present ever since he’d seen it under the tree, and completely thrilled down to his bones that Bucky had gotten him one. He pulled the item out of the wrapping and his eyes widened in delight. “Bucky…”

“You like it?” Bucky was grinning, but his expression was uncertain.

Bucky had given Steve a framed picture of Garett and Steve together. The image showed Steve with his back to the camera with Garett in his arms. Garett was sitting up in Steve’s arms and smiling at his father. The back of Steve’s head shone bright gold in the sunlight, and Garett’s curls glinted with copper. The whole picture conveyed a sense of love and security and how safe Garett felt in Steve’s arms. Steve was in awe. “I absolutely love it,” he said with complete sincerity. “I can’t believe how incredible this picture is. The lighting, Garett’s expression, his smile…When did you take this?”

Bucky was blushing with pleasure at Steve’s words. “That day in early December when we went to the pool downstairs and then had pizza afterwards, remember?”

“Yes, for sure. That was a great day.” Steve nodded. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the photo. “I absolutely love this,” he repeated. “Thank you so much.”

“I made cookies, too,” Bucky hadn’t stopped blushing. “They’re in container in the kitchen behind the oatmeal. Oh, and I also got something for Garett.”

“You made us cookies?”

“The same ones from Chanukah. I remembered you liked them.”

“I love them, and this photo. It’s amazing,” Steve said. He met Bucky’ gaze. “You’re amazing.”

“Right back atcha,” Bucky murmured. The moment lengthened as Steve found himself held by Bucky’s gaze. He just managed to stop himself from surging towards him and capturing Bucky’s mouth with his own.

“I got you something too,” Steve said quickly. He pulled the envelop out from under his thigh where he’d been hiding it and handed it to Bucky.

“What’s this?” Bucky turned it over in his hand.

“Open it.”

Carefully, Bucky opened the envelop and read what was inside. He looked up at Steve. “You’re kidding.”

Steve grinned at him. “Nope.”

“You have to be kidding. Steve, this is way too much!”

“Not even close.” Steve shook his head. “For everything you’ve done for me and Garett? You deserve that a hundred times over.”

“It’s an all-expense trip for two to London!” Bucky exclaimed. “Steve, there’s no way I should accept this.”

“But you’ve always wanted to go,” Steve said. “You said that when I was there, remember?”

“I do, and it’s a hell of a nice thing that you remembered that. But I can’t take this!”

"I think Natasha would be pretty disappointed if you didn’t,” Steve said. “I know she’d love to go back when she didn’t have to work for ten hours a day. I assume you’d be taking her?”

“Of course,” Bucky agreed readily. “I really have always wanted to go…” Bucky was looking wistfully at the papers. “But it’s so much! And you’re a single dad!”

“Yes, the trip may seem like a lot of money, but I get paid very well for working for Stark Industries. And I live rent-free in the tower, the majority of my utilities are covered, and my daycare is free as well. In other words, my living expenses are almost nothing. Getting this gift for you doesn’t take anything from me, or Garett. But you not accepting it would take away my happiness, and probably ruin my Christmas. So, please take the gift? Please?” He made a lousy attempt to bat his eyelashes.

Bucky chuckled. “You won’t go broke if I accept this?”

“Promise.”

“Seriously. You can actually afford to send me and Natasha to London?”

“Swear to God.”

“And Garett won’t go hungry if Nat and I hang out at Big Ben, or something?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“And it would really ruin your Christmas if I didn’t take it?”

“Worse than Hans Gruber ruined John McClane’s in Die Hard.”

Bucky laughed, then looked back at the papers. “Holy shit. I’m going to London!” He threw himself into Steve’s arms, hugging him with all his strength.

Steve returned the hug, reveling in the feel of Bucky in his arms. When Bucky finally let go his eyes were shining with joy. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

Steve smiled back, enjoying Bucky’s happiness. “Merry Christmas.”

Bucky moved closer, which allowed the glow of the coloured lights of the Christmas tree to reflect in the deep silver of his eyes. Bucky was looking straight at Steve. It was the same look he’d given him when they’d nearly kissed in the kitchen all those months ago. All Steve would have to do was move forward slightly, and their lips would be touching.

And oh, how he wanted that, Steve realized. Right then he wanted it more than anything he’d ever wanted in his whole life. He leaned in. Their lips met.

It was like a switch turned on inside, because Steve felt lit up like the Christmas tree. He surged towards Bucky, his hands gripping his sides, feeling the tight muscles beneath his shirt. Bucky moaned beneath Steve’s mouth, and Steve immediately slipped his tongue inside, tasting cocoa and Kahlua and something even sweeter that was Bucky himself. He tipped Bucky backwards until they were both lying flat on the couch, their bodies touching from chest to knee. Steve braced his weight on his forearms, his leg moving in-between Bucky’s thighs. The hard ridge of Bucky’s erection pressed up against him and Steve groaned as desire spiked through him, hot and sharp.

Bucky rubbed against him and Steve pushed back, feeling his own erection pressing heavily against the cloth of his sweatpants. He kissed Bucky harder, licking the inside of his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip. Bucky tasted amazing and Steve definitely couldn’t get enough. He moved his mouth to taste the tender skin at the junction of Bucky’s jaw, nipping delicately.

Bucky inhaled roughly. “Steve,” he moaned. “I’ve wanted you—wanted this—for forever.”

“Me too,” Steve said, as he moved lower to mouth the soft skin of Bucky’s throat. “Since London.”

“London,” Bucky repeated. “You looked so fucking hot in your suit. Wanted to tear it off you.”

Steve groaned at the thought. He captured Bucky’s lips again, kissing him almost roughly.

“God,” Bucky moaned when Steve stopped to breath. His hands moved beneath the edges of Steve’s sweatshirt. “I want to feel more of you.”

“Do it.” Steve leaned back so Bucky could pull his shirt off. The air was cool against Steve’s skin, but he was shivering for a completely different reason.

Bucky touched his chest almost reverently. “You’re so beautiful,” he said softly as his hands splayed over Steve’s rib cage. He looked up so their eyes met. “The most beautiful man I’ve ever met.”

Steve huffed out a self-conscious laugh. “No I’m not.”

“You are,” Bucky said, insistent. “Your face, your eyes…but really its what’s inside. You’re good, and kind, and so decent I can’t believe you’re real.” His silver eyes shone with vulnerability. “I love you.”

Steve gasped. “What?”

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. His face was pink. “I know that I probably should wait to say that, but if life’s taught me anything, it’s that it’s short, and bad things happen and, well, it’s Christmas. So, yeah. I love you. It’s true.”

It was like Steve had been doused with cold water.

I love you. Those had been Peggy's last words to him.

“No.” Steve stood up. “No.” He rubbed at his face, then ran his hands through his hair. He was still shaking, but now it had nothing to do with kissing.

“Steve?” Bucky stood too. “Steve, what’s wrong?”

Everything. Steve grabbed his sweatshirt from the edge of the couch and pulled it on. He was immediately warmer, but it still felt like something frozen had attached itself to his heart. “I can’t do this,” he said. It was the same thing he’d said last time, back in October. They hadn’t actually kissed then, which probably made repeating it worse. But Steve couldn’t make his mouth form any other words. “I can’t do this.”

Bucky’s face clouded with confusion. “But you kissed me.”

“I know. And I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“That’s it? You’re sorry?” Bucky said, incredulous. “I thought we had something here!”

“I can’t do this,” Steve repeated.

“Can’t do what? Kiss me? Because apparently you can.”

“Be in love with you!” Steve burst out. “I can’t be in love with you, Bucky! Don’t you understand that?”

“Can’t? Why?”

“Because I’m eight years older than you!” Steve spat. “I’m thirty-three and you’re only twenty-five. It’s ridiculous for us to be together.”

“Our age difference?" Bucky stared at him. "That’s your reason? You can’t be serious.”

“It’s nearly a decade!”

“It’s only eight years! And we’re both adults, and I think we’ve also both lived through enough to know who we are and what we want!” Bucky shook his head. “No, Steve. It can’t just be that. It has to be something else.”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. The ice in his chest had surrounded his heart, forcing the air out of his lungs. He shivered.

In his mind he had an immediate, clear image of the waiting room in the hospital in London; the way the doctor’s eyes looked behind his glasses: dark and weary and infinitely sad. ”I have some bad news, Mister Rogers. As you know, your wife experienced some profound difficulties during labour and we couldn’t save her. Your wife is dead, Mister Rogers. I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t be in love with you,” Steve pleaded. He gripped the front of his sweatshirt, balling up the cloth in his fists. “I can’t…”

“You keep saying that!" Bucky snapped. "But you won’t tell me why!”

“I just can’t, okay?" Steve was going to rip his shirt if he kept twisting it. "I can’t and I…I won’t and you need to stop asking!”

“And the fact I love you?" Bucky said, his eyes full of hurt. "That means nothing?”

Steve thrust his shoulders back. His heart pounded as it forced the icy slush of his blood through his veins. He felt cold all the way to his bones. “No,” he said, looking Bucky right in the eye. “It doesn’t.”

“Wow.” Bucky rubbed his hand over his face. “Well, thanks for telling me straight, I guess.” He turned around and went down the hallway. Steve could hear the door of the bathroom open and close, and then the hallway closet where Bucky had been storing his things. He was back in a moment, duffel bag in hand. He started towards the door, then stopped and returned to the coffee table where he picked up the envelope containing his gift. “I’m taking this,” he said decisively, then headed for the door.

“Why wouldn’t you take that?” Steve said, then he realized what Bucky was doing. His heart stopped. “Wait, where are you going?”

“Out. Away. Home. Anywhere but here.”

“You can’t go,” Steve said, hearing the desperate tone in his voice. He didn’t want Bucky to leave. He couldn’t imagine waking up tomorrow without him.

Bucky turned, his silver eyes light with hope. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Because I need you with me, Steve wanted to say. “Because it’s nearly one a.m. on Christmas morning,” he said instead. “It’s going to be really hard to get a taxi.”

Bucky's shoulders sagged. “I’m a big boy. I’ll figure it out.” He turned back to the door.

“Wait!’ Steve said again, and Bucky turned back, but this time the hope was gone. “What about Garett? He’ll be expecting to see you.”

“Tell him I’ll see him in a week when the daycare reopens.” Bucky pulled open the door and stepped through. “Good-bye Steve.” Then he was gone.

Steve sagged down onto the couch and put his head in his hands. The cooling mugs of hot chocolate were still on the coffee table. They’d never had a chance to finish them.

Because Steve had kissed Bucky, and then rejected him.

“But I had to,” he whispered to the silent room. There was no reason for him to be crying.

Christmas came and went in a blur of wrapping paper and Garett’s excited shrieks and giggles. Steve allowed himself to get lost in Garett’s joy as his son tore through the wrapping paper and played with his new toys. At just over one-and-a-half he obviously had no idea why he was receiving presents, but it didn’t stop his enthusiasm.

Every once in a while, he’d stop and ask Steve where Bucky was, but luckily the excitement of the day kept him nicely distracted until he went to bed.

Wearily, Steve returned to the living room and sat down. The floor was still strewn with the remains of the wrapping paper from Garett’s presents, and the lights from the Christmas tree flickered over them in a myriad of bright colours. It was all festive and cheerful and Steve knew that Peggy would’ve loved to have seen it. She would’ve loved to have seen her little boy enjoying the holidays like that.

Bucky would’ve loved to see it, too.

He had texted Bucky around two a.m. when he’d been lying in bed unable to sleep. Tell me you got home okay?

I’m home, came the curt reply. Lose my number.

Steve had stared at that text for a long time, wishing he knew what to say to mend things, but no inspiration came. He’d left his phone out all day, however. Hoping that he’d receive another message, or that he’d have some idea as to what to say to fix the friendship that he’d completely ruined. But Bucky hadn’t texted him again.

It’s for the best, Steve thought to himself as he stared at his home screen. Bucky deserved to be with someone who could love him back, not the dried-out husk that Steve had become.

He pulled up the screenshot of Bucky he’d taken back in October when he’d returned from London and smiled wistfully at Bucky, looking young and happy and so damn beautiful.

It’s for the best, Steve told himself again. He pretended he believed it.

Someone was banging on his door.

Steve stumbled out of bed and made his way towards the sound, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. “Bucky?” he said as he opened it. “What are you doing—”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Tony staggered into Steve’s apartment. His navy-blue suit was wrinkled, his white shirt open at the collar. His hair looked like he’d run his hands through it more times than necessary.

Steve was immediately awake. “Tony!”

“In the flesh.” Tony grinned at him and took a drink of the amber liquid in the tumbler he was holding. “Happy New Year’s by the way. Noticed you missed the party.”

“I couldn’t find babysitting,” Steve said distractedly. He shut the door and followed Tony to the couch. Tony sprawled across it, one foot resting against the armrest, the other on the floor. The shoes Tony was wearing probably cost more than all the furniture in Steve’s living room. “Tony, what’s wrong?”

“Damn, this is a nice place,” Tony sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch cushion. “Why don’t I hang out here more often?”

“Because Garett and I usually come up to the penthouse where you and Pepper live?”

Tony grinned at Garett’s name. “How’s my baby?”

“He’s good. Sleeping. What’s wrong?” Steve repeated.

“Nothing’s wrong! Why does something have to be wrong for me to visit one of my best friends?”

“Because it’s two a.m. on New Year’s Day and you should probably be with Pepper right now?”

“Pepper’s sleeping,” Tony gave a half-shrug that succeeded in tipping him further into the cushions. “The fetus is taking a lot out of her.”

Steve smiled. “I remember. Peggy was so tired the first trimester that she’d fall asleep right after dinner. I did a lot of dishes.”

“I bet.” Tony sat up just enough so that he could take a drink before letting himself slink back down. “Tell me more?”

“Okay.” Steve sat on the armrest closest to Tony’s head. “But maybe you should tell me why you’re here, first?”

“Visiting. Like I said.”

Steve shook his head. “This isn’t like you. You don’t get drunk and just show up really late to places—”

“Anymore.” Tony pointed upwards with his glass. “I don’t get drunk and just show up really late to places anymore. Not since Pepper.” He sighed deeply. “I wish we didn’t have to get divorced.”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock. “What?"

Tony sat up, letting the glass dangle between his knees. “It’s not like I want to. But I really don’t have much of a choice. You know how it is.”

Steve’s head was spinning. “I don’t know how it is. I had no idea about this! You’ve got to explain it to me!”

Tony looked at him. His brown eyes were full of sorrow. “She’s pregnant.”

“I know she’s pregnant! You told me at the Holiday Gala! Why does that mean you’re getting divorced? Tony, why?"

“Did you know that Garett’s the only blood relative I have left?”

Steve blinked at the rapid change of topics. Tony could be hard to follow at the best of times, but now Steve felt like he was completely in the dark. “I know. That’s why we’re living in the Tower. Because you wanted to have him close by. But what’s that got to do with—”

“And you,” Tony interrupted. “I wanted him and you close by. You were everything to Peggy. That means something. It means a lot.”

“Thank you,” Steve said. “Thank you for always being there for me, you and Pepper. When Peggy died—”

“That was the worst phone call I’ve ever received in my life,” Tony cut him off again. “And that’s including the one where I found out my off-his-ass drunk paterfamilias had driven himself and my mother into a tree. Did you know that was on December nineteenth? Great Christmas that year.” He took a long swig.

“Peggy told me,” Steve said quietly. “She said you moved to London to live with her and her parents after it happened. That’s how you ended up so close.”

“We were close before. We were always close. Her mother was the only member of the Stark family to actually be worth a damn.” His smile was full of sadness. “God, I loved it there.”

“Peggy loved you being there,” Steve said. “But I know you knew that.”

“You guys were going to move here after Garett was born.” Tony made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the main living space. “But she didn’t make it, did she? Fucking tragedy.” He lifted his glass to his lips, realized it was empty and made a face. “You have anything to drink in here?”

Steve went to the kitchen, returning with a tall glass of water. “Drink this.” Tony’s displeased expression didn’t change, but he drank it without complaint. “Tony,” Steve said quietly. “I don’t understand. You’ve always said that Pepper was the best thing that ever happened to you. Why do you want a divorce?”

Tony lay back on the couch and put his forearm over his eyes. He looked worse than merely drunk; he seemed completely wrecked, like something vital had been torn out of him. “You know what’s funny? I actually thought I was going to die when my parents did. I mean, daddy dearest and I never really got along, but he was there, y’know? And I adored my mother. But then, boom! They were gone, and fuck me, Steve, but it hurt so much. I didn’t think it was survivable.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, knowing how inadequate that was. He’d felt the same way when his mother had died.

“But then Peggy died,” Tony continued. “And I swear to God that if Pepper hadn’t been there…” His breath hitched and he rubbed his face. “Fuck me.”

“I didn’t want to carry on, either,” Steve said into the darkness of the room. “I remember when they buried her, staring at her coffin as they lowered it into the ground. If it hadn’t been for Garett, I think I would’ve laid down right beside her.” He’d never said that out loud before. It broke like glass through the stillness.

Tony lowered his hands and sat up so he could see Steve better. “Steve?”

“I loved her a lot, Tony.” Steve smiled sadly. “Like you love Pepper.”

“And that’s the problem!” Tony was suddenly on his feet. “I do love Pepper! I love that woman more than my own life! I would do anything for her! I’d die—” He broke off, covering his eyes with his hands as his shoulder’s shook.

Steve pulled him into his arms and Tony leaned against him. “She’s pregnant,” Tony sobbed. “She’s pregnant like Peggy was, and I’m so scared she’s going to die. I’m so scared. I can’t live without her. I can’t.”

Steve held him, rubbing his back like he’d do to Garett, until Tony’s tears ebbed and he pulled away. “Well, that was unmanly and disgusting,” Tony said flippantly. He wiped at his eyes.

“She’s not going to die,” Steve said.

“You don’t know that!” Tony snarled. “No one knows that! Pepper’s pregnancy outcome is a big, fucking unknown! She’s like the Schrodinger’s cat of pregnancy!”

Comprehension hit Steve like a hammer. “Is that why you want to get divorced? Because you’re scared she’s going to die?”

“She was so gorgeous in her dress tonight,” Tony said, eyes closed. “It was this shimmery blue masterpiece, high in the front, low in the back, tasteful and sexy in a way that only she can pull off. And I was just looking at her. Just drinking her in, when I realized that this could be our final New Year’s together. This could be our last one, and I realized I couldn’t do it.” He opened his eyes and looked at Steve. “I can’t live without her,” he said simply. “So, divorce.”

Steve just looked at him.

“Fuck me.” Tony sat back down on the couch. “It’s not going to work, is it?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t think getting divorced is the answer.” He sat down beside Tony so that their shoulders were touching.

“So what is the answer?” Tony covered his mouth with his fingers. “What should I do?”

“What you’ve been doing.” Steve shrugged. “Be her husband.”

“How’d you get through it?” Tony looked at him. His eyes were reddened from his tears and heartbreakingly sad. “Peggy dying. How’d you…not just lay down beside her?”

“Garett,” Steve said immediately. “And you and Pepper. I don’t know what I would’ve done without the both of you.”

“I really want this baby,” Tony admitted softly. “I keep dreaming about her. A little girl with Pepper’s red hair. But then I think about losing Pepper, and I fall apart.” He shrugged helplessly. “It’d be so much easier if I could just divorce her. Just stop loving her, you know? Then it wouldn’t matter what happened.”

“I’ve thought about that,” Steve said. “I’ve asked myself, if I could go back in time and stop myself from being with Peggy, save myself the grief of her dying by never loving her at all, would I?”

Tony’s gaze was intent. “What did you decide?”

“I’d still do it,’ Steve said with certainty. “But this time I’d just love her more.”

Tony shook his head with a small laugh. “You’re braver than I am.”

“I’m really not,” Steve said.

“But you’d do it all over again, even if Peggy still died. I don’t even know if I can do it this once.”

“But you have been doing it. Loving Pepper,” Steve said. He paused, trying to collect his thoughts. “Because she could’ve been hit by a bus long before this.”

Tony looked at him. “Is this your idea of a pep talk? Because it really sucks.”

“I’m trying to tell you that you’re brave,” Steve explained, “Because love takes courage no matter what. Because…because they might die giving birth, or die in a car accident, or get cancer like my mother. Because that’s what it means to love someone, right? That you have to live with the fear you might lose them.”

“That is…” Tony paused, “I’ve never thought about it like that.”

“Oh, I have,” Steve said. “It’s like a black hole of fear in my head all the time that never goes away. I’m scared of losing Garett, or Pepper, or Natasha or you, the way I lost Peggy. I love you guys, so the fear is always there.” Steve’s laugh had no mirth in it. “I hope you don’t mind me telling you that.”

Tony took Steve’s hand, squeezing it affectionately. “I’m glad you’re constantly worried about me. Okay, that came out wrong. But you know what I mean. And I feel the same way about you, and Garett. And Pepper, apparently.”

“That’s what loving someone is, I guess,” Steve said. “Learning to live with the fear of losing them.”

“Better to have loved and lost?” Tony asked wryly.

“Than never to have loved at all,” Steve finished the quote. “Yeah, I think so. I’m glad to have had Peggy in my life, no matter how much losing her hurt. The thought of never being with her at all hurts more than her loss ever could.”

“I guess stressing over Pepper dying is kind of getting in the way of me loving her right now, isn’t it?” Tony sighed. “I mean, what with all the thinking of getting divorced.”

“And I bet it’s killing all the joy of her pregnancy, too.” Steve put his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“What do I do about being scared?” Tony asked quietly.

“Love her more,” Steve said, equally as quiet. “Just love her more.”

Tony sat for a moment in silence, obviously thinking. Then he stood. “And that’s about all the emotional stuff I can take for one night. But you’ve given me a lot to think about. So, thanks.”

Steve stood too and they embraced. “My pleasure.”

“Okay then, time for me to go home and sleep this off.” Tony made his way towards the door, stumbling a bit. “Thank God I only live upstairs.” He turned as he reached the door, pinning Steve with his gaze. “You’re a good friend, Steve, and I love you. I should probably tell you that.”

“I love you, too.” Steve put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “And it’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I’m going to pretend you can promise me that,” Tony grinned at him, and left.

Steve stood in the quiet of the living room, thinking about his conversation with Tony and what he’d said to him about how love took courage.

If life’s taught me anything, it’s that it’s short, and bad things happen, Bucky had said that to him Christmas day, just after he’d told Steve he loved him. Because Bucky already knew what Tony was trying to understand: Loving someone was worth the fear, because not loving them would be the worst pain of all.

Steve believed that, he knew he did.

But then why had he sent Bucky away?

Steve’s eyes widened as realization dawned. He’d sent Bucky away because he was scared. As scared as Tony was to lose Pepper. Steve loved Bucky, and he was terrified of losing him like he’d lost Peggy.

He wasn’t brave at all.

Steve put his hand over his mouth. “Oh my God. What have I done?”

“Where’s Bucky?”

“Hello Steve,” Darcy said. “Nice to see you! How was your weekend?” She took Garett from his arms and put him on her hip. He giggled and immediately went for her glasses.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbled. “Hi Darcy, how are you?”

“Great, thanks!” Darcy said brightly. “Great weekend. So glad that January’s almost over.”

“Yeah, it sure has flown by. Is Bucky around?”

“Bucky’s doing afternoon shifts for now. You should see him when you pick up Garett tonight.”

“He’s still not doing intake?” Steve felt his heart dip in his chest. It’d been over three weeks since he’d last seen Bucky while dropping off Garett. Bucky had been great with Steve’s son but less than friendly with Steve himself. It felt like it was after London all over again, and just like last time, Steve had no one to blame but himself.

Not that Bucky was making it easy for Steve to apologize.

“Moira wants to train him to be a supervisor,” Darcy explained. “So she has him filling in all the rolls.” She straightened her glasses from where Garett had been playing with them. “Want me to tell him you’re still looking for him?”

“If you wouldn’t mind?” Steve felt his face heat.

“Sure thing.” Darcy grinned. “I can do that. Again.”

Steve’s face flamed. “Thank you.”

From: [email protected]
Sent: February 14
To: [email protected]
Subject: Apology

Dear Bucky,

I’m really sorry for the way I treated you on Christmas. I’ve realized some things since then and I’d really like to have the chance to talk to you about it. Can we get together for coffee sometime?

I hope I hear from you.

Steve.

“He won’t return any of my texts.”

Natasha looked over at Steve from where she was eating her lunch across the table from him. She dipped a fry into her aioli before using it to punctuate her sentence. “He’s blocked your number.”

“I know that.” Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s why I’m asking you to ask him to contact me?”

Natasha shook her head as she chewed. “You know I can’t do that, Steve.”

“He doesn’t do intake at the daycare anymore, he’s not there when I pick Garett up at night. He won’t return my emails…” He put his head in his hands.

“You hurt him very badly, Steve,” Natasha said. She ate another fry.

“Don’t you think I know that? Jesus, Nat. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret what happened. I just want to try to make things right.”

“I know you want to.” Natasha’s gaze softened as she looked at him. “And I told him as much back in February. But if he doesn’t want to talk to you, he doesn’t want to talk to you. I can’t change that.”

“I miss him,” Steve said softly. “It’s been three months since we last talked. I miss him.”

“His birthday is next week.” Natasha sighed. “If you wanted to write him a card or something, I’ll make sure he gets it.”

Steve brightened immediately. “You’d do that for me?”

“Sam told me that it was the conversation the two of you had coming home from London that gave him the courage to ask me out. So I probably owe you one.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” Steve lunged forward to hug her across the table.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Natasha said against his shoulder. “He may not look at it at all.”

“He’ll look at it,” Steve said with more confidence than he felt. “He has to.”

Steve pulled up the picture of Bucky he’d stored on his phone, smiling wistfully at the image.

It was exactly as Steve remembered: Bucky, smiling at something off camera, long hair down, red shirt sleeves pulled up so the delicate mechanism of his metal arm was on display. He was so beautiful, and Steve was so in love with him.

He sighed set his phone down on his desk, propping it up against his ‘I Love NY’ mug that contained all his pens for the drafts of his artwork. He looked at the photo one more time before turning to the card stock on the table in front of him.

Natasha said that he should give her a card to take to Bucky for his birthday, but Steve knew he could do one better.

He picked up one of his pencils and started to draw.

“Thank you, friends!” Thor said loudly, hosting his glass of ginger ale. “Your generosity and friendship are most welcome, and leaving you is hard indeed.”

They were back in the ‘party room’ in Stark Tower, high above the city streets. Light rain drizzled against the huge windows as early April brought in the bad weather she was known for. Inside however, the room was filled with warmth as the employees of Stark Industries celebrated the impending birth of the Asgardian Royals with one of the swankiest showers that Steve had ever attended.

The celebration was also doing double duty as a good-bye party, as the royal couple would be flying back to Asgard as soon as possible after the twins were born. It was obvious from the expanse of Dr. Foster’s abdomen that her babies were due any day now, and if her tired expression was any indication, she was more than ready for the blessed event.

“Doesn’t she look great?” Pepper said into Steve’s ear. “I hope I look that good when I’m seconds away from giving birth.” Pepper put her hands on her own baby bump, where it protruded visibly under her well-tailored maternity dress.

“You look beautiful,” Steve said honestly. “You’ve really got that pregnancy glow.”

“Thank you!” Pepper beamed at him. “That’s so great to hear, especially considering I feel like a whale right now.”

“You look perfect,” Tony said as he arrived beside them. He handed both her and Steve a champagne flute of ginger ale. There was no alcohol being served at the party in deference to both Pepper and Dr. Foster, which Steve thought was a particularly chic thing to do.

Pepper turned to her husband and they shared a tender kiss, Tony’s hands resting on her belly. It made Steve smile to see it, glad his friend had figured out how to manage his fear.

He just wished he’d figured out how to do the same, before he’d alienated Bucky forever. His mouth thinned as he thought about Bucky. He’d given Natasha the birthday card he’d made for him the second week of March, but he’d never received a reply. None of his emails had been answered, either, and his number was still blocked on Bucky’s phone. He still hadn’t seen Bucky in person at the daycare. It was like he’d completely disappeared, and the worst part was that Steve couldn’t blame him. He’d rejected Bucky not once, but twice, and had no one to blame but himself.

“I can’t believe that Jane is leaving us,” Tony said mournfully as he watched Thor and Dr. Foster start making their way around the guests. “We have so much science left to do.”

“I’m sorry she’s leaving, too,” Pepper said. “Especially as she’s taking my best daycare provider with her.”

Steve's heart thumped painfully in his chest. “What?”

“She’s taking the best daycare provider with her,” Pepper repeated. “The very one I was planning on asking to be my nanny.”

Steve blanched, wanting to kick himself for ever telling Dr. Foster about Bucky when she came to his office back in November. Of course it’d be Bucky who Dr. Foster would’ve asked to come back to Asgard to help look after her twins. She was one of the most intelligent women on the planet. Of course she’d be smart enough to hire Bucky.

Steve put his untouched ginger ale down on the table beside them. “I have to find Natasha,” he said faintly as he took off, walking as fast as he could without drawing too much attention.

He found Natasha easily, she was standing with Sam on the other side of the room, beside the canapes. They were holding hands and looking completely besotted with each other.

Normally Steve wouldn’t have dreamed of interrupting his friends, but this time he didn’t even pause before he reached them. His heart was still pounding a mile a minute. “Is Bucky leaving?”

Natasha and Sam both turned to look at him. “Yes. He’s going at the end of April when the weather gets warmer. But how’d you know that?” Natasha’s face brightened. “Is he talking to you again?”

“I heard it from Pepper,” Steve said by way of explanation. His heart was thudding in his chest like a jackhammer. “Do you know where he is now? I really need to talk to him.”

Sam and Natasha exchanged a look. “Is he talking to you again?” Sam asked. “You didn’t really answer before.”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “He’s not, but I just need to talk to him. Just for five minutes.” Steve craned his head to look around the room. “Is he here?”

“Sounds like he’s pretty keen on you not finding him,” Sam said carefully. “Maybe you should let this one go.”

“I can’t do that, Sam,” Steve said. He took a breath. “I love him.” His voice cracked on the words.

“Shit,” Sam breathed. He looked at Natasha. “Tash?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she said to Steve. “I’ve told him that you want to apologize—”

“I need to see him,” Steve interrupted. “To tell him how wrong I was, and…and how I feel. Even if it’s just to say good-bye.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to you!”

“Natasha, please!” Steve knew he was begging but he didn’t care. Bucky was leaving for Asgard, he’d never see him again. “Please, just tell me how I can reach him.”

Natasha looked at Sam again. He tilted his head and shrugged. “You know him best.”

She nodded and licked her lips. “Okay. I know he’s going to be home this weekend. I can give you his address. But Steve, you have to promise me that you’ll only go once. You can’t stalk him or I’ll kill you. Got it?”

Steve was nodding his head vigorously before Natasha had even finished her sentence. “I promise you I’ll only go once.”

“Steve…”

“I mean it, Natasha! I’ll only go to his house once. If he doesn’t…if he doesn’t want to see me I’ll leave. I promise.”

Her eyes were still narrowed. “Swear it.”

Steve straightened. “I swear on my mother’s grave.”

Natasha pursed her lips as she considered him, and Steve found himself holding his breath. After what felt like an eternity, she finally pulled out her phone and Steve sagged with relief. “I’m texting you his address,” Natasha said. “Don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t,” Steve promised.

“Get there around two p.m. on Saturday. Sam and I will watch Garett for you. Bring flowers. He won’t expect that.”

“Thank you!” Steve pulled Natasha into his arms, hugging her for all he was worth.

She embraced him back. “This is your last chance,” she whispered into his ear. “If you hurt my little brother again, If you break his heart one more time…well, I really will kill you.”

“I promise I won't,” Steve whispered back. He’d go to Bucky’s apartment, apologize for rejecting him, convince Bucky that he loved him and then try to stop him from taking a dream job as a nanny with the Asgardian Royal Family. He grimaced, recognizing the enormous task in front of him. It probably wasn’t Bucky’s heart that was going to be broken again. But he’d have to risk it.

Love was all about courage, after all, and this time Steve was going to be brave.

Steve found himself outside Bucky’s door at five minutes to two on Saturday. His arms were full of flowers, which meant he couldn’t wipe his sweaty palms on his pants. It also meant it was going to be difficult for him to knock on the apartment door.

It was okay though. He had a few minutes to figure it out.

Steve had felt every second of the forty-two minutes it’d taken him to get from Midtown Manhattan to Bucky’s apartment in Brooklyn. The neighbourhood was run down and felt unsafe, and it was a fair hike from the train station and it was hard to imagine Bucky having to live here. His apartment was on the third floor of what must have been a stately building back in the day, and it had no concierge and no real security. Steve had slipped in when another occupant had left without giving him a second glance. It made him think of how safe a building Stark Tower was, and how well Tony took care of him and Garett. They were certainly lucky.

But he’d been creeping at Bucky’s apartment door for a while now. Steve shifted the huge bouquet just enough so that he was able to get his hand free. He took a deep breath and knocked.

There was a shuffling sound from inside the apartment, and then the unmistakable cadence of footsteps and the creak as the door opened.

And then Bucky was standing right in front of him. His silver eyes widened in shock as he recognized Steve, and then narrowed in displeasure. “I’m going to fucking kill Nat.”

“Hi,” Steve said lamely. He held out the flowers.

Bucky didn’t make a move to take them. “What are those?”

“Flowers. For you. To apologize?” Steve winced.

“What, did you rob a funeral or something?” Bucky sighed and let Steve into the apartment. “Don’t answer that. I don’t actually want to know.”

“I didn’t…” Steve started, and then stopped at Bucky’s look.

“I didn’t really think you robbed a funeral.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” Steve grinned awkwardly and went to rub the back of his neck, then stopped when he realized his arms were still full of flowers. He held them towards Bucky. “Here?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and took them, walking them the two feet to the tiny counter space that held his kitchen. He put them into the sink then turned around to face Steve, arms crossed.

Bucky was beautiful. Steve knew Bucky was gorgeous, but all the time he hadn’t seen him had made Steve forget exactly how beautiful Bucky was. His hair was pulled back into a messy bun that just accentuated the sharpness of his cheekbones and the symmetrical perfection of his face. His body was just as muscular and lean as Steve remembered, but it was the incredible silver of Bucky’s eyes that Steve was immediately captivated by. It was like looking at newly-minted coins.

Bucky’s perfect mouth curled up into a sneer. “Did you come here just to stare at me, or are you gonna actually say something?”

“Oh, yeah, uh.” Steve took advantage of his empty hands and rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel his skin heat with his blush. “I’m sorry.”

“Great. Apology accepted. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” Bucky pushed away from the counter and was holding the front door open in five long strides. The apartment really was tiny.

“No, wait!” Steve said desperately. “I have more to say.”

Bucky closed the door and turned to face Steve again, arms still crossed. He was wearing a t-shirt and the metal of his left arm gleamed black and gold in the bright light of the room. “Okay. So, talk.”

Steve blew out a breath. “Why didn’t you return any of my calls?”

Bucky stared at him. “Are you for real?”

Steve grimaced at Bucky’s expression, but he couldn’t stop his words. He’d been so confused, so devastated when Bucky stopped talking to him. He had to know why. “Or my texts? Or emails? Bucky, it’s been three months and I haven’t even seen you at the daycare! Why?”

The silver of Bucky’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Firstly, it’s been four months. Not three. Secondly, did you really come all the way over here just to ask me why I haven’t answered any of your messages? Because, guess what buddy, I don’t owe you anything.” He opened the door again. “Get the fuck out. And take those flowers with you.”

“But I tried…I wanted to…” Steve let his voice trail off at Bucky’s dark expression.

“You need to leave,” Bucky said.

“Okay.” Steve dropped his head. He’d failed. His last chance to make things right with Bucky, and he’d blown it. His eyes were burning with unshed tears and he wiped at them as he moved towards the door.

There was a small table to the right of the entrance, just big enough for a few envelopes and Bucky’s keys, and a hand-coloured picture that Steve immediately recognized.

He stopped and picked it up. It was the picture he’d painted for Bucky’s birthday: An image of Bucky sitting with Garett on his lap on the couch in Steve’s apartment, the way they’d looked over Skype when Steve had been in London. It was the moment where Steve had seen how much Bucky cared for Garett, and in retrospect, probably the moment where Steve had started falling in love. He’d painted the picture from memory. “You kept this.”

“Of course I kept it,” Bucky make a move like he was going to grab it out of Steve’s hands, then seemed to think better of it as he stayed leaning against the doorway. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you never said you got it.” A sliver of hope was sparking in Steve’s chest. “Because I thought you hated me. Because I thought you threw the card away before you opened it. But you didn’t. You kept it.”

“It’s me and Garett. And you know how I feel about your kid.” Bucky closed the door and leaned his back against it. “That’s probably been the hardest part of this whole thing. I got really used to seeing Garett after daycare you know? I miss him.”

“And he misses you. We both do.” Steve dared to take a small step closer. “So much.”

“That’s a laugh,” Bucky barked out. “You couldn’t wait to get rid of me at Christmas!”

“That’s not true!” Steve protested immediately. “I didn’t want—”

“You spun a bullshit line about our age difference being important.”

“I didn’t mean it. I was just—"

You told me that the fact I loved you meant nothing.” Bucky said bleakly. He shook his head. “And you wonder why I never responded to you?”

“I wanted to apologize,” Steve said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was so wrong.”

“I’ve spent every day of the last four months trying to forget you, Steve. I’ve ignored your texts, erased your voicemails, hell, I even moved all your emails to a spam folder to try to protect myself from you. I’ve done everything in my power to keep away from you. But it didn’t work, did it? Because here you are, standing in my apartment, and I’m still just as in love with you now as I was then. But letting you break my heart twice already is enough for one lifetime. I’m really not up for a third.” He opened the door again. “You need to go.”

“No!” Steve reached over and pushed the door shut. “No Bucky, I am not going to leave until I’ve said my piece. Look, I get that your angry at me, and I get that you really don’t trust me right now. But just listen, alright? And if you don’t like what I have to say, I’ll leave. I promise. But for now, just listen, okay?

I broke your heart because I was scared.” Steve’s heart was pounding as he spoke. He’d never told anyone this before; he’d barely admitted it to himself until his conversation with Tony in January. But he knew if there was going to be any hope for them, Bucky needed to hear the truth. “I was scared in October and scared at Christmas. Hell, I think I’ve been scared since the moment I met you. Everything about you terrifies me.”

Bucky’s face went completely blank. “It’s my arm. Isn’t it.”

“What? No!” Steve said loudly, completely alarmed that Bucky could’ve taken his confession so badly. “It’s not your arm! There is nothing scary about your arm! How could you even think that?”

“Then what?” Bucky said, equally as loud. “What about me is so terrifying that you had to dump me on Christmas Day? Why are you so scared?”

“Because I’m in love with you!” Steve yelled. “Don’t you get it? I love you!”

The silence was so complete that Steve could practically hear Bucky’s eyelashes click together. “What?”

“I’m in love with you,” Steve repeated on a breath. “I love you. And I’m terrified.”

Bucky stared at him in silence for a few moments longer. “I think we’re gonna need to sit down.” He crossed the small room to collapse on the couch, gesturing for Steve to follow. He moved so that he and Steve could face each other. “So,” he said evenly. “You love me, and this scares you?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “I know it probably doesn’t make any sense but…” His smile was more like a grimace.

“You’re right, it doesn’t make any sense,” Bucky said. “Because you told me at the Gala that you couldn’t be with me because you’re still grieving for Peggy, which I understood. But then you kissed me, which was great, but also confusing, and then you rejected me, which was just plain awful, and now you’re telling me you love me. So, I’m back to being confused again.”

Steve took a deep breath. “I loved Peggy more than my own life. And when she died it hurt so much that I didn’t know how I was going to carry on. But now I’m in love with you.” He held Bucky’s gaze with his own, willing Bucky to understand.

“And it would hurt you if something bad happened to me?” Bucky said softly. “Is that why you’re scared?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. That’s why.”

“But I can’t promise you that nothing bad will ever happen to me,” Bucky said, “I mean, I already lost my arm and that was pretty bad, but it doesn’t mean that nothing else will ever happen.”

“I know that,” Steve said. “Peggy died from an amniotic fluid embolism giving birth to Garett. Everything in her pregnancy up to that moment was normal. Completely normal, and yet she died. So yeah, I know how unpredictable this shit can be.”

“Holy fuck,” Bucky exhaled. “Steve, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine going through anything worse than that.”

“It was the most terrible moment of my life,” Steve said softly. “I’d rather die than go through anything like that again.”

“No wonder you don’t want to have a relationship with me. I wouldn’t want to risk that, either.” Bucky took Steve’s hand.

“But I do want to have a relationship with you,” Steve said. He gripped Bucky’s hand tightly in his own, relishing the feel of their skin touching. “These last four months without you? They’ve been awful. I need you in my life, Bucky. I need you. And not being with you? Well, that scares me more than anything.”

Bucky’s expression was a mixture of confusion and hope. “But you just said—”

“I know what I said,” Steve said. “And I meant it. I’d rather die than live through Peggy’s loss again. But you’re not Peggy, and like you said, life is short and bad things happen. And I’m tired of being scared.” He squared his shoulders and looked Bucky straight in his silver eyes. “I’m going to love you more,” Steve said, repeating the words he’d said to Tony all those months ago, still gripping Bucky’s hand. “It would be way worse to lose you without getting to love you than the other way around. So I’m going to love you more.”

Bucky’s eyes were bright with longing. “You’d better mean that, Steve. You’d sure as fuck better mean that, because I couldn’t take it if you left me again.”

“Oh, I mean it,” Steve said. He leaned over and kissed him.

Bucky kissed him back like he was drowning and Steve was air. “You’d better mean this,” he mouthed against Steve’s neck as Steve shuddered under the gentle onslaught. “Because I really don’t want to stop this time.” He slid his hands under Steve’s shirt, and Steve obligingly lifted his arms so Bucky could get it off him. Bucky then slid his mouth from Steve’s neck to his collar bone, his hands roaming.

“Don’t go to Asgard,” Steve panted. He pulled at the hem of Bucky’s shirt. “Doctor Foster can find another nanny. Don’t go.”

Bucky lifted his back off the couch so Steve could get his shirt off. “I’m not going to Asgard.”

Steve stopped, Bucky’s shirt in his hands. Bucky’s body was as taut and well-defined as he’d looked swimming with Garett and Steve could hardly wait to touch. “But Pepper said that Doctor Foster had taken her best daycare provider.”

“She means Darcy. Not me. Which kind of hurts a little but…”

“And Natasha said you were leaving at the end of April!”

“I am. To London, with the ticket you gave me, remember?”

“Oh my God,” Steve moaned and attacked Bucky’s lips with his own. “I thought you were leaving.”

“Is that why you came over?” Bucky asked between kisses.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” Steve said.

“You’re not going to lose me,” Bucky said. “I promise.”

“I’m going to pretend you can promise me that,” Steve said, copying what Tony had said to him so many months before.

“Enough talking,” Bucky said as he pawed at the button of Steve’s pants. “Do what you came over to do. Love me more.”

Steve laughed, feeling like he could burst with happiness. “Absolutely.”

Garett went over to Steve, patted his knee before he went back to the nursing glider chair that Pepper was seated in. He stroked the back of the child in her arms before turning to his father. “Baby!”

They were sitting in the living room of Tony and Pepper’s penthouse on the very top of Stark Tower. It was a gorgeous space that took up two floors and had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. They were visiting Pepper and Tony’s new baby, a beautiful girl with a dusting of red hair and the endearing name of Maisie Marie Potts-Stark. Tony had already given her the nick-name Candy. “For M&M, get it?”

Pepper and Tony had told Steve what name they’d chosen for their yet-unborn daughter on Garett’s second birthday, which was also the second anniversary of Peggy’s death. Maisie was a Scottish form of Margaret, and Steve couldn't help tearing up when Tony and Pepper had told him how they'd decided to honour her.

Steve grinned back at Garett. “Yes, that’s Pepper and Tony’s new baby.”

Pepper smiled down at Garett. “You like the new baby, do you?”

Garett nodded seriously up at her. “Baby eatin'. Baby is hungry. Eatin' boob.” He smiled toothily at her.

The four adults in the room laughed.

“I guess that’s a fairly accurate way of describing breast feeding,” Tony said.

“Who taught him boob?” Pepper raised one strawberry blond eyebrow. “That doesn’t seem toddler appropriate.”

Bucky raised both his hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m totally PG around our son.”

Steve couldn’t help the flush of happiness he felt at Bucky’s words. He and Bucky had only been dating officially for a couple of months but Bucky had seamlessly become a part of his and Garett’s life. His commitment to them both was obvious and absolute and Steve still couldn’t believe how lucky he was that Bucky had given him another chance after all he’d put him through.

“It was Steve,” Tony said with authority. “Man has a terrible potty mouth. We’ll have to keep Candy away from him—unless Bucky’s there to chaperone, of course.” Tony was looking at Pepper and his daughter as he spoke. He’d barely looked away from them since Steve and Bucky had arrived. Steve doubted Tony had stopped looking at either of them since Candy was born.

Pepper had give birth to Candy the first week of June, exactly two years and two weeks after Garett’s birth. She’d gone into labour and then delivered Candy without any issues whatsoever, and as with most things she’d done in her life, Pepper made it seem effortless. She'd decided on a birthing centre and had had the least medicalized type of birth possible. Tony had stayed with her the whole time, while Steve and Bucky had been up all night in the centre’s waiting room. Steve had been too anxious for Pepper’s safety to sleep, and Bucky was there because Steve needed him.

Going to see Pepper and Candy after the birth, both of them tired but healthy and well, had been one of the best and worst mornings of Steve’s life. He was so happy for his friends, but once again struck by how senseless Peggy’s death had been. Bucky had just held him while he cried.

But that had been over two weeks ago, and now seeing Tony’s family didn’t hurt at all.

Bucky laughed at Tony’s comment. “While I’d love to put the blame on Steve, it was totally Natasha who taught Garett that. She and Sam had Garett the whole time we were away, so plenty of opportunity to ruin his vocabulary.”

Bucky had ended up taking Steve as his plus one on his trip to London, and it had been an incredible trip. Showing Bucky where he and Peggy had spent so much time together was bittersweet, but Steve knew he was finally healing.

“Boob!” Garett said loudly. He went over to Steve again and Steve pulled him onto his lap, where Garett snuggled against him, a warm and welcome weight.

“How is Natasha?” Pepper asked as she gently shifted a dozing Candy off her breast and deftly fixed both her bra and her shirt one-handed. “She and Sam came by a few days ago, but I haven’t heard much from her since.”

“Sam’s taken her to Disney World,” Steve said. “Turns out she’s never been.”

“Ten bucks she’s going to come back engaged,” Tony said. He went over to his wife and gently took their baby from her, cradling Candy in his arms like he was born to do it.

“Engaged? They’ve only been together since November!” Bucky said.

Pepper was gazing dreamily at Tony. “When you know, you know.” She stood. “Since I’m not trapped in that chair anymore, I’m going to get myself a drink.” She went to the kitchen.

“Buggy!” Garett exclaimed, thrusting out his hands. Bucky took Garett from Steve with a practiced movement.

“I still think it’s kind of fast,” Bucky said, putting Garett on his knee and bouncing him, making the toddler shriek with delight. “I mean, what if he breaks her heart?”

“What if she breaks his?” Tony said with a shrug. He met Steve’s gaze. “Loving someone means that you have to be okay with the fear of losing them. Or at least that’s what I've heard.”

Bucky looked between the two of them before grinning at Steve. “Yeah, that’s what I've heard, too.”

“What’s this?” Pepper came back into the room carrying a tray with drinks for everyone, including a sippy cup for Garett. Steve jumped up and took it from her, placing it down on the glass coffee table. The edges were already covered in foam to protect Candy when she eventually started walking.

“We’re just talking about how loving someone can be scary,” Tony explained. “Because there’s always the risk you could lose them.”

Pepper’s gaze immediately went to her daughter. “That is sadly true,” she said. “And what have you gentlemen decided is the best way to deal with this fear?” Her tone was light, but the expression in her eyes told Steve that she knew exactly what they’d been talking about, and had felt that fear, too.

“That you need to love them more,” Steve said simply. He looked at Bucky as he said it, Garett resting against his chest. “Love them more.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Pepper said quietly.

“Better to have loved and lost,” Tony quoted.

Bucky nodded. “Life’s too short to be afraid.”

Steve leaned over to give Bucky a quick kiss. “Amen.”

END