A/N: I just...I don't even know.

After we had talked for a while about how exactly our relationship is going to change (and perhaps after some more kissing), we thought we should find James and tell him the good news.

"The Tower seem extra quiet to you?" Steve asks as we check the empty lounge.

"Considering there are six superheroes living together under the same roof and not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse? Yeah, it's too quiet."

"Okay, how about a different approach? JARVIS?" Steve calls out.

"Yes, sir?"

"Where is everyone?"

"They're in the training room, sir."

Steve grins down at me. "There we go."

I smile back hesitantly. "Yep. So, everyone?" I swallow. "I mean, are you ready to, to have that conversation with all of them?"

*cough*Tony*cough*

His smile shifts to a smirk as he crouches down beside my wheelchair. "Not backing out already, are you?"

My face scrunches. "Of course not. I just don't want to deal with Tony's 'Tony-ness 'once he finds out- because he will tease us and I will roll over his toes."

Steve's expression momentarily stiffens as I remind him of the facts of Tony's personality. "Good point, but it's worth it."

"Telling everyone or rolling over his toes?" I ask, half joking.

"Both," he answers with a grin. He kisses my nose before rising to his feet. "Now, shall we?"

I grudgingly agree and roll down the hall.

When we reach the training room, we both come to an abrupt halt. Instead of the clean, gray monotone look the area usually has, it's littered with streamers and balloons of every bright color. Every piece of workout equipment has been wrapped in ribbons and pushed to the perimeter of the room. A fully stocked bar is off to our left. In the center of the room is the rest of the group– Tony, Pepper, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, and James –gathered around a table that has a rather large, three-tiered, white cake on it.

Once we get over our initial surprise, we walk over to join them.

"What's all this for?" Steve asks. "I didn't think it was anyone's birthday..." he trails off, probably concerned that he forgot to get one of his friends a gift.

Tony steps forward with his arms out to us; smirking crookedly with as much self-satisfaction as I've ever seen on his smug mug. Come to think of it, they're all looking rather smug (except for Pepper who looks resigned to some forthcoming disaster, and Bruce who looks uncomfortable). "Oh Steve, you naïve little unicorn. This is your birthday- well, rebirth, if you will." Seeing the confused look on Steve's face, Tony steps aside and gestures to the table behind him.

The white cake, under a spotlight, is frosted to say in big, bright, blue letters, "FINALLY".

"I was wrong to call you 'Capsicle'. You've been a glacier. Honestly, how can you survive moving this slowly?" Tony asks, completely serious, before shrugging. "Oh well, at least you finally 'fon-did' it." He wiggles an eyebrow, looking back and forth between the two of us.

My eyelids disappear with how wide my eyes have gone. I'm going to take scissors to all of his ties. I'm going to take a sharpie to his arc reactor so he has to be a walking projector of pink ballerinas. I'm going to shave half of his goatee. I'm going to give him the worst spray tan he's ever gotten – on just his forehead. I'm going to let a class of six-year-old girls into his suit room, give them a full wardrobe of dresses and a crate of paint and tell them to go nuts making-over his Iron Man suits. Or maybe I'll just punch him in the nose.

"What? No! Tony, what are you talking about? Anne and I just decided to go steady!" Steve sounds more scandalized than upset. This is a good thing because if he were to punch Tony in the nose, well, Tony would have a fist-sized dent in his face.

Tony's smirk slips a little and Bruce interjects grumpily, "I told you, Tony. I told you this was a terrible idea, but no you had to throw a party because- and I quote –'the ninety-year-old virgin just lost his v-card'."

"Stark!" Okay, now Steve sounds mad.

"Hey!" James interrupts, stepping quickly between Steve and Tony. "You and Anne are an item? Officially? Gee, that's great!" He claps Steve on the shoulder, trying to distract him. "Congratulations, pal! She's a catch!"

Steve's jaw unclenches long enough for him to give a small, but genuine, smile. "Yeah, she is." He looks back to me and relaxes further, his smile growing.

From out of the floor off to my right, a stage rises up, complete with a band and fog machines. A banner unfolds from the ceiling above them, reading, "Get Laid! For America!"

The band's first song? 'Like a Virgin'.

Of course.

Tony didn't even bother to stop them.

While James and Nat do what they can to stop Steve from tying Tony into a pretzel, I roll my wheelchair into Tony's shins to get his attention.

"Agh! I give you the capability of independent movement, I offer you a place to stay, I throw you party, and how do you repay me? Roll over my brand new Salvatore Ferragamo Oxfords. They're Italian," he whines.

"Tony. How? How could you possibly do all of this in just over two hours?" I ask in disbelief. "I know you have connections, but still... has the floor always been able to do that?"

"He's been planning for this from the day he first sketched out the blueprints for this room," Pepper answers.

Tony smirks as I stare at him, completely dumbfounded. "You kept a band on call for two years just for a punchline?"

"I don't do anything by halves," he explains shortly.

"Of course you don't. Including-" I'm cut off by a screech and a muffled flapping as something passes overhead.

Everyone stops what they're doing to stare in surprise at what has flown above us.

"Was that a bald eagle?" Bruce asks distractedly. "Tony Stark – all the nuanced subtlety of a charging rhinoceros in neon spandex." He turns to me with a small, tired smile and says, "Congratulations Anne, it's about time Cap saw what's been right in front of him from day one."

"Thanks Bruce," I answer with a bit of a blush. Today has not gone as I had expected. I pinch the bridge of my nose as my headache returns. "I have a question for you."

He returns his attention to me from watching Tony argue with Pepper about what to do with the band.

"I um, I've actually been getting headaches since the cognitive test thing. Do you think I should be concerned?"

Bruce's brow furrows. "I'm not sure. If you like, you could come to the lab tomorrow and we can run a couple of scans, just to make sure there are no abnormalities or surprises."

I give a smile of relief. "That'd be great, thank you."

He nods with a smile.

"You're welcome, by the way," I hear James tell Steve- who has calmed down considerably.

"What do you mean?" Steve's attention is back on James.

"Oh, nothin'. I'm just the best wingman you'll ever have, that's all," he answers with a grin. "Isn't that right, Anne?"

I raise an eyebrow with as much condescension as I can muster while fighting a laugh. "Yes, James. You're just the best. We'll be sure to name our first child after you."

"Yeah, yeah, very interesting." Tony moves to the center of attention again. "Did you really just talk in Anne's room for two and a half hours?"

"Tony!" Steve and Pepper chorus together while James tries to cover a smirk.

Clint pokes his head out from behind Tony. "So,cake?"    

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A/N: ...I still don't even know. But I won't whine about it like the last chapter. I'm curious though, did you guys like the chapter or was it too jarring of a shift in tone? To me, it has the most fanfiction-iest feeling out of everything I've posted so far.

At least it was kinda fun to write something this silly.

Also, I may or may not have looked up on youtube all of Bucky's scenes in the first Captain America movie - for research, of course - and I was surprised to see that he only had about thirteen minutes of screen time. How crazy is that? Answer: So crazy.

Also also, was I the only one thinking that Sam would have had something to say about Bucky being Steve's best wingman ever? 'Cause he totally would. Maybe something along the lines of "Pft. Not literally..." under his breath. Such a sassy little Tweety Bird.