B: Steve, what is this place?

S: Looks like some kinda collection.

B: I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

S: I don’t like it either, Buck. But are we gonna just leave all these …others… trapped in jars?

B: No tellin what might happen if we let em out.

S: We can’t just leave em!

B: We got out on our own.

S: But look — who are these guys? Are they us? Or alternate versions of us? If we let em out, will it implode the space time continuum or something?

B: I don’t know, but I don’t like it either way.

S: I think we should let em out.

B: Can we at least break the jars from a distance?

S: Spoken like a true sniper.

B: Caution is the better part of valor!

S: This time I’ll have to agree with you.

Bucky was eating his usual breakfast up on the roof, behind the Wakandan screen. The high tech camouflage field was set on light deflection and maximum permeability, so a light breeze was drifting through, carrying up with it the noises of Montague Street, buses, trucks, cars, bicycles, the occasional snatches of conversation. Anyone looking would see a normal Brooklyn rooftop, shimmering a little from the heat. But really, it was the top level of Bucky and Steve’s building, where they had installed the palatial bath, guest cabana, and of course, the rooftop garden.

Bucky liked to start every day on the roof. Since the year he’d spent in Wakanda, living in the “hut” and taking care of goats, he liked to eat outside where he could feel the air.

Steve sat down beside him, carrying his giant mug of coffee and Super-size bowl of granola.

They chewed together in silence, taking in the sounds of pigeons and planes overhead.

“I want to have a big party,” Steve said. “I want to invite everyone.”

“Everyone?” Bucky said. Their building was on a residential street in Brooklyn Heights. A full Assemble might draw some attention.

“We can stage the party in groups. Invite folks that might get along. Yeah?”

Steve was the tactician, and Bucky was the Sergeant. He began thinking about how it could work. “Yeah, could work.”

“Okay, how about next Friday?”

“Maybe three weeks out? Not everyone has a calendar clear as ours.”

Bucky and Steve had retired, especially since Steve passed the Shield on to Sam.

“OK, barring international incident…” Steve said, knowing full well how such incidents tended to crop up.

“I’ll send out the evite,” Bucky said. He liked to send invitations through multiple channels. He’d also send written invitations by mail, on the thick creamy paper, embossed with their names, that he’d dreamed about when he was just a kid, crammed into a single room with Steve back when their building was still a tenement.

In the coming weeks, Steve sourced the snacks and drinks. One thing about Avengers, they knew how to put away food. Steve made lists and Bucky helped him find the stuff.

Bucky was working with Maria Hill, Steven Strange’s friend Wong, and Princess Shuri, to make sure they covered all the bases.

The early crowd would arrive at six, eat a light supper together, and help Steve and Bucky set up.

Sam of course showed up at 4:30, parking illegally on the street with his car loaded full of food and drink.

“Sam, this is amazing! But you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble!”

“Hey, nobody parties like a Wilson. Besides, I hear the Wakandans are coming? We’ve got to show them a good time.”

He had brought three huge trays of collard greens; the smell alone made Bucky drool. Four dozen half-smokes to grill on the roof. Two trays of Nashville fried chicken wings with bite-sized biscuits and three types of jelly, blackberry, strawberry rhubarb, and jalapeno. Plus, the famous Wilson family macaroni and cheese, broccoli slaw, and sweet iced tea.

“You were hoping to feed everyone on carrot and celery sticks and pizza, right?”

“Mmmm,” Steve tried to deny, but his Depression era instincts were hard to override.

“I ordered three trays of cold cuts, and crackers?” Bucky said.

“Good effort, man,” Sam said, whacking Bucky on the arm in a manly fashion.

Bucky nodded, and the super soldiers unloaded Sam’s car so he go could find a legal spot — even though he had an Avengers tag, he didn’t like to take advantage.

A little before six Carol and Sharon showed up. They were going to help Bucky put out some decorations, lights mostly, and set up all the folding chairs from the storage behind the cabana.

Steve liked colorful tablecloths, so, they pulled everything out of the linen closet and threw bright textiles here and there. The plants around the place looked festive with ribbons tied around their pots, and fairy lights twining through their branches.

They arranged the bar table and the food table. The pizzas were set to arrive at 8, so they munched on carrots while they worked. (“Hummus! Tzatziki! Babaganoush!” Steve enumerated, pointing at his crudités and dips.)

“How are Maria and Monica?” Sharon asked Carol.

“They’re good,” Carol said. “It’s hard spending so much time off planet, but now, I think we’re finally at a point where humans can travel.”

“It seems like space folks are not that different from humans?” Sharon asked.

“True,” Carol said. “Different colors, different appendages, no one really cares in space.”

Bucky caught Steve’s eye, but Steve looked away. Bucky really wanted to go into space, but Steve was dragging his feet. Another few years, he’d wear him down. They had time.

The pizzas arrived and Bucky and Steve knew Clint and Natasha would follow soon, so they urged Sharon and Carol to open the enormous bottle of something like Champagne that Thor had given them.

“I’ll stick to iced tea,” Sam said. “This many Avengers, someone needs to keep a level head.”

“One beer used to throw Steve off his game,” Bucky laughed.

“Those were the days,” Steve smiled. They all toasted.

Steve and Bucky allowed themselves one slice of pizza each as soon as it arrived. They each could eat two whole pizzas without even trying, but they needed to think of their guests, so they comforted themselves by savoring an initial slice. Steve chose super supreme, and Bucky chose ham and pineapple. Sam chose mushroom, goatcheese and hazel nut. Sharon chose pepperoni and mushroom, and Carol chose jerk chicken with sliced fresh tomato.

Suddenly they noticed that of the people standing around enjoying pizza, two of them were Clint and Natasha, and under the table was Clint’s dog Lucky, giving them one intense puppy dog eye.

Steve leaned in and got a hug from Natasha. She was already drinking a very tall White Russian, so she must have found the drinks table. Clint had mixed his drink in some enormous gourd and topped it off with a pink umbrella. Steve could smell rum and pineapple and didn’t know what else. Bucky had been in charge of stocking supplies for the drinks table, and he had added a lot of strange ingredients Steve had never heard of.

Not long afterward, the Ant guy showed up with his girlfriend, the one with the wings.

Sharon greeted them with enthusiasm. “Hey, Hope! Hey, Scott! Glad you guys could make it!! Do you know Clint and Natasha?”

“We’ve trained with Natasha a bit, but not so much with Clint,” Scott said.

“No shop talk!” Clint and Natasha and Bucky and Steve all said in unison.

Sharon laughed and shook her head. “I’m terrible, I know. If it’s not shop talk I revert to cover stories.”

“Sometimes cover stories are fine,” Natasha said, and Clint bumped her with his shoulder.

“Cover stories are great,” Scott gushed. “Some of my greatest moments have been cover stories.”

“That’s true,” Hope said, “but it’s better than it sounds.”

“Oh!” Scott said, and his face fell, then brightened, then fell again, and finally settled on hopeful.

The doorbell rang, and it was Peter.

“Hey, guys!” Peter said. Everyone knew Peter; they kept tabs on him because he was so young, and because Tony went to pieces whenever he got hurt.

Sharon handed Peter a rootbeer float.

“I’ve never had one of these before,” he said, immediately getting ice cream all over his upper lip.

“If you don’t like it, we’ll get you something else,” Steve said. “Whatever you like, as long

as it’s non-alcoholic.”

“I save New York two or three times a year, and I still can’t get a beer,” mumbled Peter.

“Not yet,” Bucky said, making eye fingers at Peter.

“Is Mr. Stark here yet?” Peter asked.

“No, there was a thing at Morgan’s school,” Steve said. “He’ll be here later though.”

Peter smiled. “Mr. Stark spends almost as much time at that school as Morgan does.”

Steve shook his head. “Tony’s dad was always preoccupied with work, so Tony doesn’t want to be like that with his own kid.”

Bucky hung his head, breathing carefully. He was always struck with guilt whenever Howard and Maria were mentioned, even though rationally he knew their deaths weren’t on his conscience.

“Morgan’s a lucky kid,” Peter said.

It was true; Tony had, eventually, turned out pretty well.

Around 9 pm, the second wave of guests turned up. In his head, Steve thought of them as the magicians: Steven Strange, who after all was called the Sorcerer Supreme; Wanda and Vision, Thor and Loki, and their friend the Valkyrie. Loki and Valkyrie were quarreling again but Steve hoped it wasn’t anything serious.

“Hail, Friend Steven! We have brought you more liquor! It will be a principal export of New Asgard, isn’t that right, Valkyrie?”

Valkyrie reluctantly lowered her sword as Loki smirked at her from around his drink. “Yes. We get rare ingredients from all nine realms — so now we’re starting to make Asgardian liquor again.”

“Working with Jane and Eric has been lovely. The Bifrost has reached 86% stability,” Loki murmured.

“My brother is too modest. He’s been leading the team of scientists who are working to rebuild the channels for traveling between worlds.”

“Loki is brilliant,” Vision chimed in. “The crystal he synthesized to mimic the Mind Stone is nothing short of a miracle.”

“Thank you, Loki,” Steve said. “We owe you so much.”

Loki smiled, showing too many teeth. “My pleasure,” he said.

Steve got the strong impression Loki was holding himself back from saying something cutting. Then Wanda earnestly spoke up.

“You saved my brother, and Vision, as well as the Captain, from divergent points on the timeline — we owe you a debt we can never repay.”

“I love having debts owed to me,” Loki said breezily.

“And, you helped us save Tony and get Nat back,” Steve said.

“How could I possibly have done all that?” Loki said, rolling his eyes.

Steve counted on his fingers silently, all the infinity stones Loki had touched, or that had touched him, and the ways the prince of mischief had finessed the timelines when no one else could.

“Thank you,” Steve said again. “We’re glad you are here with us tonight.”

“I’m glad, too,” Loki said, and Thor drank deeply in agreement. The two brothers were carrying very large beakers; Steve had a suspicion Thor just filled them with tap water, leaving Loki to transform them into delicious Asgardian spirits.

“Thor, Loki,” Stephen Strange said from the door to the kitchen.

tbc

Bucky and Steve have gone to the after Christmas sales and found a product at the mall that didn't surprise Bucky at all.



"Is this why you wanted to shop here, Buck?"

"You never know what you might find at Williams Sonoma... besides, they had a really good price for cinnamon sticks."

"It's a crazy name though."

"It makes sense when you pose next to it, that what I think."

"Aw, shucks, Bucky."

"They didn't know to call it 'hot Stevie'... but that's what I'm gonna call it."

"You're just looking for smooches when we get home."

"Yes sir.  Seriously spicy ones!"