Tony was hosting an outlandishly elegant soiree at the Avengers Tower tonight, and everyone who was anyone was invited, meaning me as well apparently, or by default. Steve called me earlier while I was settling into my new apartment, and asked me to be his date. An honor that I was pleasantly surprised by despite that word itself sending a chill that felt like acupuncture down my spine. 

Reminding me of the last date I was on. 1938, fancy dinner, theater tickets, stolen kisses here and there, and finally a proposal beneath the moonlight. 

Pushing those sweet turned bitter thoughts out of my head I got ready anyway. Slipping on a backless crimson dress, and a pair of red stilettos I then swept up my soft curls. Smoking out my eyelids with shades of grey, and black I then applied a layer of deep rose hued lipstick before spraying on some perfume. 

It had technically been more than seventy years since I last dressed up because between 1943, and 1945 all I wore was either a nurses uniform, or my Howling Commandos combat outfit. Being dolled up felt somewhat odd, and unique, like walking a mile in someone else's shoes, or like buying something that didn't quite fit right. Like the woman staring back at me in the mirror was a silhouette of my former self, before the anguishing scars of life had plagued me. 

Catching one last look at my reflection I went ahead anyway, so not to be late. 

Taking a taxi to the Avengers Tower, the one building lit up brilliantly. Somehow dazzling enough to fade out the rest of the radiance coming from other skyscrapers, and I went on inside. 

Going up a few levels to the floor where the party was being held I could already hear the muffled music coming from even within the elevator. 

Once the doors slid open a wave of conversation, and a rock melody, undoubtedly picked out by Tony, rang in my ears. 

Stepping out, my heels clicking against the mahogany wood, I seemed to have captured the awareness of every guest present. My presence igniting a lull in the celebrating madness, snagging the attention of hundreds of eyes, all strained towards me. 

Tucking a loose wavy strand of hair behind my ear timidly, I skimmed the faces of many, searching for someone recognizable. 

Though soon I saw a feathery blonde with twinkling blue eyes walk, almost blindly, over towards me. His countenance leaning towards starstruck, and his jaw had fallen a gap for a moment before he collected himself, and extended a hand out to me. 

Accepting his offer right away I slipped my fingers into his palm, and held his hand. The party's noise commenced then, turning back on like a switch, whispers turning into loud gossips, hushed chuckles morphing into boisterous laughs. 

A beverage latched onto the hands of everyone, a sing-song attitude contorted across each person, all desiring to dust off their cares for the night. 

Steve led me to a more secluded area by the bar, and I darted my eyes all around. The space was very monochromatic, designed solely in the colors of white, silver, taupe, grey, black, and deep umber wood. The modern layout dripping with luxury, each piece of art, or furniture finely made, and expensive. 

Platinum pendants trickled down from the high-rise ceiling, cascading like raindrops, and the city's skyline flooded in through the walls of glass, shimmering with scintillating florescence. 

I took a seat onto one of the leather bar stools while Steve stood, his elbows resting against the marble counter top. 

"What would you like to drink?" 

"Water, please." I replied, making him snicker. 

"You still don't like to drink?" 

My lips twisted upward at his not so subtle teasing. 

"I could never hold my liquor. He was always better at it then me back in the day. You, and him used to go out to drink, and hang out at a swing club every once in awhile, but pre-serum you could barely empty a glass of anything. I'm sure that's different now though." 

"Well, I can now empty a glass. A few actually." He said, handing me my water as he took a sip of his beer. 

"Steve, I need you for a sec." We overheard Clint announce, his protective glove for archery still strapped on even now at a fancy occasion. 

"Sorry, Rebecca. I'm gonna have to steal your date away." The agent apologized. 

I nodded cordially, and obstinately Steve began to step away. 

"I'll be back." He sluggishly said, and I watched as he, and Clint dissolved into the crowds. 

Idly, I sat alone at the bar, sipping absently on my water, crossing one leg over the other. The deafening music which submerged the room in it's melody from the surround sound speakers hurt my ears, and in all truth I wanted to leave. It had been an inexorably long time since a party felt like something I could freely engage myself in, but I couldn't ditch Steve. 

"Hey, beautiful." I unexpectedly heard the bartender greet, leaning brazenly close to me, most of his upper body strewn across the bar. 

"Hello." I acknowledged, my eyebrow quirking up guardedly. 

"What's your name?" He asked, tracing his fingers tantalizingly slow down my arm. 

"Rebecca B- Just Rebecca." I responded, catching myself before my tongue got away from me. 

"Listen, my shift is done soon, you want to go somewhere fun together later?" He insinuated, definite cockiness, and sleaziness entwined around each gesture he made, and every expression he did. 

"That's sweet, but no thanks." I countered, hoping he'd get the gist that I wasn't interested, but apparently I carried along with me the inaudible sign anyway. 

"Oh, wedding ring. Sorry, didn't see that." He noticed, ignoring a few guests who had been impatiently waiting around for a refill in an angry cluster. 

"No, it's okay. I'm not... Married anymore. I'm a widow." I coughed out, those words a literal fight to get to leave my mouth. 

I remembered distinctly a memory of me telling Bucky that I wasn't going to be a damn widow. I remember him accepting my warning, and making me feel like he'd always come back to me. Liar. 

"So, then do you want to go out later?" He forwardly continued, snapping at the tightrope thin patience of mine. 

"No, thanks for the offer though. You should get back to work, otherwise your tips will go down." I alluded, pointing discreetly at the long line of unhappy, and irritated people who all stood with their arms crossed, empty glasses in their hands. 

My observation peeking his immediate work ethic as he hastily scurried away from me, going back to fulfilling his actual duties for the night. 

I watched as waiters in black aprons, and white dress shirts made their way around the room, sterling silver trays full of appetizers resting in the palms of their hands. 

By now I was seriously contemplating ditching, but then a long haired, built Asgardian came waltzing over to me. 

"You, Lady Rebecca are infinitely the most lovely mortal here." He complimented, his sentence encased with deep, honeyed words that rolled off his silver tongue. 

I gathered up a small smile, not wishing to come off mean to such a kind gentleman. 

"Quite a praise from such a substantial being like yourself. I'm touched." 

He grinned, his pearly whites sparkling, his royal blue eyes glistening. 

"Is that pure vodka? I'm impressed." He inquired, peering down at the crystal glass with clear liquid almost filled to the brim. 

"No, It's water. I'm not much of a drinker. What's in that?" I gestured to the ancient white gold flask in his large hand. 

"Oh, this? It's alcohol aged for a thousand years in the barrels built from the wreck of Grunhel's fleet." He articulated, almost boastfully about his special, otherworldly choice of beverage, and I exhaled, the buzzing dialogue around me giving me a headache, like I was stuck in a beehive. 

"Are you alright?" The God of Thunder questioned, and I just kept my attention drawn to my water. 

"Not really. The glow of everything being new has worn off, and now I'm realizing how lonely I am." 

Thor patted my back, and then removed it once he realized that my whole backside was bare basically because of my dress. 

"fret not, Lady Rebecca. For this is a new era, a new dawn of your life. You shall move on." 

"I can take this from here." Steve interjected, shaking Thor's hand before the golden haired Asgardian left. 

"You know for a God, he's not the most reassuring." I let slip once I knew that Thor was no longer in ears reach. 

"Well, he can lift a hammer that no one else can." 

"Ah, what a gift," I kidded. "Everyone for the past few days has said to me that I should move on from the past, but what do you do when all you are is the past? We shouldn't even be here, Steve. We should be dead, or on our deathbeds at least." 

"I know." Steve agreed, allowing me to bare my soul, and confide in him. 

"At least you have a job. I know you said my purpose was to remember things with you, but besides that what am I living for? I'm no Captain America. All I was was a nurse, a soldier in a war that no longer exists, and most importantly, a wife to someone who is no longer here." 

"You're skilled, and intelligent though." Steve challenged with the opposing seriousness of trying to talk someone off the ledge of a building. 

"You could become an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D. Like it, or not we're alive now, and this is the world we exist in even if we are seventy years late for the party, Becky." 

"An agent?" I debated. "I'll have to think about it. It's something at least." 

"You go home, Becky. I've made you stay long enough already. I'll tell Nick Fury about you." 

I stood up from the leather bar stool, and smiled favorably at him, kissing him sweetly on the cheek. 

"Thank you, Steve. Night." 

With more of a spring in my step I went down the elevator, and left the Avengers Tower quickly. Even for New York it was late enough that not many people were around. 

Buildings were still lit up, as they always seemed to be even when vacant, and lampposts decorated the sidewalk, but few meandered around. 

Beneath the moonlight I waited for a taxi to zoom into my line of sight, the blue glow from the night contorted across my features. 

Though while absorbed in hunting for a cab I didn't notice someone beside me, resulting in me accidentally bumping against them, causing my clutch to tumble to the cement ground. 

"I'm sorry-" I began to appease, but then the older gentleman in a navy suit interrupted. 

"No, I apologize." 

I watched keenly as the dirty blonde haired man bend over to retrieve my fallen clutch for me. His dark blue, almost black eyes seemingly mannerly, yet retaining a shadow of mystery to them as well. 

"What's such a beautiful woman like yourself doing out all alone? It's never safe in New York, you know." He cautioned, somehow giving off the feeling that he himself was apart of the danger, someone not to trust. 

I narrowed my gaze at him, swiping my clutch back. 

"I'm aware. I just came from a party at the Avengers Tower, and was about to hop into a taxi." 

"Avengers Tower?" The businesslike man quoted. "Only the most important of people step foot in there. Important people are always interesting, including yourself I suppose. The name is Alexander Pierce. What's yours?" 

"Rebecca." I answered just as the stream of a yellow taxi came pulling up to the curb, my golden ticket out of this situation. 

"You don't have a last name?" Alexander grilled, forcefully keeping the cabs door open while I slid into the backseat. 

"No, I don't actually. Not anymore. It was nice meeting you." I said before slamming the door shut, and driving off.