#I do not wish to stretch out my birthday into a multi-day affair but the Occasion leaves me no choice

[jamiesfootball]

Mañana is my birthday

[asgardlover75]

Steal Away

So I decided to venture outside of my comfort zone and write a short.  And, if you’re gonna go big then why not start with Mimi’s One Hit Wonder challenge.  I chose Robbie Dupree’s Steal Away because it’s one of my favorite songs from the 80′s, which honestly isn’t saying much.  I’m a sucker for good and bad 80′s music.  

Pairing - Bucky X OFC

Warnings - None

Word Count - 1911

Synopsis - Bucky is at a wedding.  

@captain-rogers-beard​ congrats on reaching the milestone!

Weddings in this century never ceased to confound him. People were much crazier, mostly in a good way, and there definitely wasn’t as much stuffiness as there was back in the day. He’d been to quite a few in the last handful of years and the one he was currently attending was no exception. ��Jacket slung over the back of his seat, the knot of his tie resting in the center of his chest, he probably looked disheveled but didn’t care.  His hair that had once been tied back completely in a bun, was now bent on escaping one piece at a time.  

Bucky stretched his legs out in front of him, slouching down in his chair and crossing his aching legs at the ankle. The chair was extremely uncomfortable but his guess is that they weren’t meant to sit in for long.  The atmosphere of the room was one of happiness and while he did share in the feeling he was not about to join in the craziness he had been viewing all night.  

All around him tables were empty but littered with various purses and jackets and the remnants of dinner being cleaning up by the event staff.  He tipped the beer he was nursing up to his lips and chuckled at those dancing on the floor.  Cheesy music has been playing over the speakers all night, multi-colored lights dancing around to the beat of whatever song was playing.  

He was genuinely enjoying himself right now surrounded mostly by his ‘family’.

A chuckle escaped him as he watched the mass of bodies on the floor react to the current song that was playing.    

A little bit softer now A little bit softer now A little bit softer now A little bit softer now A little bit softer now A little bit softer now A little bit softer now A little bit softer now A little bit louder now A little bit louder now A little bit louder now

A slow song eventually came on and the bodies on the floor dispersed, drifting back to their seats or to refresh themselves with another drink.  A few people headed his direction and he felt a warm sensation envelop him.  Wanda, MJ and Maria were giggling as they neared, arms linked together and faces flushed from their antics on the floor.  The three women sat heavily in their seats, reaching for their drinks as they continued talking.  

Wanda met his gaze and smiled.  

“She went to get some water.  Said she’d be right back.”  She was yelling over the noise of the room but he had no issues hearing her.   Bucky simply gave her a nod and returned to his people watching as he waited.  Now that there had been a mass exodus of the dance floor he could see across the room.  Steve stood with Nat, Bruce and Rhodey, his best friend’s right arm waving as he had told a story, the group laughing at his words.  His left arm was wrapped around Nat, who wore a radiant smile, her affectionate gaze not on the man talking, but the one standing next to her.  Bruce held a drink in his hand, probably some sort of juice if Bucky had to guess, and was listening intently to the big blonde man.  

Bucky smiled when Bruce reached over slowly to grab Nat’s hand.  He made no move to pull his now wife from one of their closest friends. It always amazed him how casual the group was in their affection.  Though it had taken him a while to be comfortable with touches other than Steve’s, the group had finally broken through his shell.  Now Nat and Wanda were free to ruffle his hair or skim a hand over his back as they walked past him and he didn’t jump in surprise.

The ceremony had been short and thankfully not stuffy, the perfect thing for a former spy and a man with breathtaking anger management issues.  Tony had ordained himself so they could limit the amount of people at the actual ceremony, and because Tony loved being the center of attention.  He had been brief with his words, a surprise, but definitely managed to get a few jabs in here and there.  Bruce and Nat had only wanted their closest friends to be with them and even though the reception had a few more people it definitely wasn’t a huge affair.

Movement to the left of the dance floor caught his eye and he couldn’t help the grin that split his face at the person walking his direction.  Long blonde hair fell over tanned shoulders, left bare by her dress.  Her normally average height was adjusted by the hot as hell red heels she wore on her feet.  Those heels had almost made them late to the damn ceremony after she had pulled them out of the closet earlier.  Only the promise of leaving them on when they got home allowed them to get out the door.  

The colorful flowers that adorned the white dress came into sharper view the closer she moved to the table.  A modest V-neck only hinted at what he knew was underneath and the skirt fell to mid-calf as he watched it swish around her.  Bucky’s eyes rose to meet her gaze and his grin deepened at the happy look on her face.  Walking up to his left side, she leaned into him, bending down to kiss his lips gently and run her right hand against the side of his head.  

“Hey handsome.  You keeping yourself entertained over here without me?”  She asked, her affectionate gaze warming him.  Bucky wrapped his metal arm around the top of her legs and squeezed gently, pulling her body into his.  

“I’m better now that you’re back.”  He murmured, her chuckle warming him from the inside.  

Jordan had quickly become a figure in their little group after she started at Stark Industries.  While she might be beautiful on the outside, inside she was a fucking genius with numbers and schedules.  She had quickly earned her place working with Pepper and had eventually started working on Avengers accounts after proving herself invaluable.

She was always outgoing and kind to the others and hadn’t even fan-girled over any of the team when she finally met them. Cool, calm and collected was her mantra at work but Jordan was definitely a girl that liked to have fun. Wanda had invited her to game night about six months after she started and the rest was history.  

It had taken her a bit of time to get Bucky to relax when she was around but eventually she won him over.  She arranged a tour, behind the scenes, at the Hayden planetarium in the city or his birthday after Nat had let it slip that Bucky was a huge space nerd.  Jordan hadn’t hesitated to use the resources at her disposal to give the man who had been through so much a day he would remember for a long time.  If anyone deserved the experience, it was Bucky she had told Pepper.

Now, two years later, she was as much a part of the group as anyone else and sometimes helped them prepare for missions.  It helped that she was as big a nerd as the rest of them, though her drug of choice was music.  There had been many times Bucky had found her in Tony’s lab arguing with him about some band or type of music at insane hours of the day. The talks with Sam were more civilized and she had definitely broadened the horizons of two super soldiers in the area of music.  

Bucky drained his beer and placed the bottle on the table.  Standing, he pulled Jordan closer, his lips covering hers in a gentle kiss as pulled her towards the floor.  A slow song had just started and he hadn’t danced with her yet tonight.  She followed without complaint, despite how tired she was from the dancing she had been doing so far.  

Pulling her flush with his body, Bucky settled his hands on her hips, burying his nose in her neck.  He felt a calm settle over him, her arms coming up to wrap around him, hands linking together under his bun.  His eyes slid closed as he felt her humming the current song that was playing, and he just existed for a bit.  

They danced through two songs like this before he lifted his head and smiled down at her.  The noise around him came back into focus and he felt weariness seep into him. As much as Bucky was enjoying holding Jordan on the dance floor he really was reaching his quota for being around other people for the night.  Sighing deeply, he turned his head to place a kiss on her temple then spoke quietly in her ear.  

“You wanna get out of here?”

“You mean steal away?”  Bucky gave her a confused look, especially considering Jordan seemed to be holding back a smile.  Hesitantly, he decided to play along.

“Yeah.”

“So you wanna steal away, into the night?”  Her mouth tilted up into a slight grin causing his left eyebrow to raise.

“Yeah doll.  That's what I said.”

“Hmm. Well that doesn’t seem right.” Jordan murmured, a look of concentration on her face.  It took two seconds for him to realize what was happening.

“What the....it’s another damn song isn't it?” She finally did laugh, out loud, a chagrined look on her face.  Jordan had the insane ability to make mundane or simple comments from others into a song.  If someone said turn around, she was singing Bonnie Tyler without missing a beat.  

“Yes.  One of my favorites.   I'm sorry.  I can’t help myself.”

“I know babe I just wish I got the damn references more. So who is this song by?”

“Robbie Dupree.” 

“What else does he sing?  Anything I would know? That you’ve forced me to listen to.”  Jordan smacked his arm at the cheeky comment but answered his question anyway.  

“Nope.  He was a one hit wonder.”

“A what?”

“That is the only song that was a hit.  The rest of his stuff sucked.  Or at least someone thought so. “

“That's harsh.”

“I don’t make the rules.  I just enjoy the songs.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his head shaking at her words and pulled her close to finish dancing to the current song.  When it came to an end, he moved back to leave the floor, the notes of the next song starting softly.  Before he moved two steps Jordan laughed loudly, causing him to turn and look at her in confusion.  

Leaning close to him, she told him to listen and watched his face as the words register to him.  He laughed, changing direction and pulled her back against him as they listened.    

“Well that’s ironic.”   Bucky joked, pulling Jordan closer.

“Not really.”  Her words confuse him until he looks over in the direction she is. Steve is standing there, talking to a group of people with a smile on his face.  He takes a drink of his beer and nods his head slightly as if to acknowledge it was his doing.  

“Sneaky super soldier.”  

“Are you complaining?”

Bucky gazes down into her face, his lips turning up in a half grin.  

“Hell no doll.  I owe the punk now.  Let’s go home so I can get a closer look at those damn heels.”

Steal Away

Robbie Dupree

C'mon and hold me Just like you told me Then show me What I want to know

Why don't we steal away Why don't we steal away Into the night I know it ain't right Tease me, why don't you please me Then show me What you came here for

Why don't we steal away Why don't we steal away Into the night I know it ain't right Into the night babe Make it tonight ooohh

I caught you glancing my way And I know what you're after (no second chances tonight)

Why don't we steal away Why don't we steal away Why don't we steal away Why don't we steal away Into the night

I know it ain't right Into the night I know it ain't right Why don't we steal away I know it ain't right Into the night, babe Why don't we steal away Make it tonight Why don't we steal away

[kiss-my-freckle]

Dialogues

A collection for you, @moreryanandjames

1x1

Red: You got rid of your highlights. You look much less … Baltimore.

1x3

Red: So, you went with the gray?

1x4

Red: That’s a pretty blouse.

1x7

Red: Agent Keen, I have a tip. You’re a winter, not an autumn. Stop wearing olive.

1x7

Red: You’d look positively radiant in a Guayabera dress. I know a little shop in Reston. We could stop before our flight.

1x7

Red: I brought you a souvenir. What’s your feeling about guava? Liz: Anxiety. Red: Oh, you’re in for a treat.

1x8

Red: I find it so reassuring the movie stars, the pop singers they really are just like the rest of us.

1x8

Red: I don’t know how you do it. I had that done once. I couldn’t bear the tickling.

1x8

Maltz: Yeah, sure. Give us a minute, please? Ray, look at you. You look great. I mean, the elasticity is amazing. You been juicing? Red: Beets, mostly. Some celery, carrots, a lot of ginger. The kale makes me dyspeptic.

1x9

Red: Donald, never let it be said that I valued a Zegna Venticinque tie over a human life, even yours.

1x9

Red: Donald! Donald! Feeling any wittier yet? Any strange cravings for Beluga caviar or Marcel Proust?

1x12

Red: If I tell you, you have to promise me you’ll try the fertilized duck eggs. It’s a daring and unique dining experience. You’ll think you’ve died and gone to hell.

1x12

Red: We brought a little something for Julian – a care package. It’s a Tibetan singing bowl. What do we have here? Some jackfruit, vitamin D, kola nuts. But we’ve got to get him to eat more protein. He looks like hell. He isn’t vegan, is he? Anyway, I’ve also --included a couple of my favorite Richard Pryor records. I want to try and inject a little levity into the proceedings. I mean, Julian looks so crabby all the time. House arrest can be grueling. Borakove: Didn’t you spend, like, four months - in Phonthong? Red: Seven. Borakove: How did you survive? Red: Naps. Occasional calisthenics.

1x14

Red: Wow! And I like your clutch.

1x14

Red: Who decided on this paneling?

1x14

Red: You smell nice. Something new?

1x18

Red: I come bearing gifts - pimento cheese sandwiches, toasted with the crusts cut off. Eartha Kitt’s recipe. It’s a fantastic story.

2x1

Red: Hello, Harold. Please apologize to Charlene, your side gate may need a new lock. A get-well present. It looks so soft. Shea butter?

2x2

Red: Lizzy! I’d like to introduce you to my manicurist, Rosa Heredia.

2x12

Red: Oh, that’s a shame. Dendrobium? Ruth: My own hybrid. I call them “Snows of Everest.” Red: Lovely.

2x14

Red: You’ve changed your hair.

2x14

Red: Come on. I got to be worth as much as that fake Xuande Ming vessel was. Sorry, Santos, but those cat’s eye Chrysoberyls are brown, not green. An expensive forgery, but a forgery nonetheless.

3x1

Red: I must say, your hair, the way it frames your face is very becoming.

3x6

Red: I love mauve, but a soft creamy yellow will just open up the entire room. We also need to land on cabinet options and millwork today.

3x12

Liz: I’m pregnant. Red: Yes. I’ve known for some time. Liz: How? Red: Everything. Your body, your skin, a look in your eyes, different tastes for different foods, nausea, distracted, moody.

3x12

Red: Oh, I should probably mention, I booked a pregnancy massage for you. She’ll be here at 9:00. Her name’s Edwina, she’s a registered nurse, and she smells absolutely divine.

3x14

Red: I see your new home is a work in progress. What colors are you considering?

3x14

Lady: Who the hell are you? Red: Her fairy godmother. I hear it’s her birthday. We’ve come to celebrate.

3x17

Red: They went with ruby fringe tulips and pink peonies. You’d be impressed.

3x20

Red: As an adult, it’s easy to dismiss this stuff as girlish frivolity. You forget the wonder it creates, the light captured, secret wishes evoked. It renders even the darkest days sparkly.

3x20

Red: I’d imagine it to be a challenge, playing Rachmaninoff’s C-sharp minor “Prelude” without the benefit of C-sharp.

3x21

Red: What a garden. I love daffodils. They say gifting a bouquet of daffodils ensures happiness, while presenting just one means bad luck is on the horizon.

4x7

Red: What do you do to stay in such incredible shape? Calisthenics? Or Jazzercise?

4x7

Red: Maybe we should be workout partners.

4x7

Red: I’ll see you in dance class, Samar.

4x18

Red: Ah! Springtime in Vienna. The market’s are a bit crowded, but the flowers - oh, my gosh. A simple walk to the U-Bahn is full of glory.

5x1

Hawkins: Who are you? Red: Your Fairy Godmother.

5x2

Red: Oh, my goodness. Look at those Guan vases. And that flatware. Did you know Nancy Reagan - She could dress a table specifically for that night’s guest at a moment’s notice. Russian Silver for a tea with Gorbachev, Italian silver stag-head stirrup cups for a last-minute supper with Sinatra. Can you imagine?

5x2 Liz: What color is that, pumpkin? It looks like a pumpkin. Red: His wife says it’s Tuscan Sunset.

5x3

5x3 Red: Shh. You hear that? There it is again. A piping plover. Their breeding grounds are along coastal beaches and alkali marshes, so to hear that bell-like call from a shorebird this far inland - my gosh, poor little fella must be lost.

Red: I use Epsom salt baths.

5x4  

Red: We were camping in the altogether under the most delightful autumn moon in the Forest of Dean when a wild pig came out of nowhere and gored my left flank, so to speak. And Melissa here not only slew the beast and salved my wound with a honey of - Dr. Lomay: Yarrow. Red: -yarrow compress, but also made the most scrumptious pork pie in the monarchy.

5x10

Paris: Shall I set a third place for lunch? Liz: No, thank you. Red: You may want to think twice. He’s making a turbot with a matsutake mushroom broth.

5x12

Red: I feel terrible, Mariko. I know it’s a small consolation, but I’ve made arrangements for you and Tadashi to stay in the hotel. A two-bedroom suite is yours until it’s safe for you to go back to your home. Room service, 24-hour spa, tickets to any of the shows in town. I hear there’s a revival of “The Music Man” that’s supposed to be marvelous.

5x12

Red: What makes her happy? Does she like a good foot massage?

5x15

Red: If only there were something you could do to help me think of a constructive way to develop the property. Any good ideas? Headmaster: No. Red: Really? Headmaster: Absolutely not. Red: Maybe a massage parlor. The athletes would love it!

5x16

Red: Mr. Garvey, might I suggest you enjoy what little time you have left - crab cakes, scalp massages, perhaps a double feature of “The 400 Blows” and ���Jules and Jim” - whatever floats your boat.

5x18

Red: Excellent. I’ll be at the Louvre. When you’re done dotting your I’s and crossing your t’s, you can find me gazing in erotic wonder at the beauty and power of the Winged Victory of Samothrace.

5x19

Red: This apartment. Right here. Oh. My God. To have been the proverbial fly on Clyde Tolson’s duvet. Liz: Clyde Tolson lived here? J. Edgar Hoover’s lover? Red: This was their secret hideaway. Imagine the conversations. Cooing over JFK’s lovers. Slandering Dr. King. What peignoir to wear to bed. When I saw the apartment was for sale, I couldn’t resist. Liz: You own the apartment where the homophobic head of the FBI carried on his affair with his boyfriend? Red: Allegedly. I wouldn’t admit this in mixed company, but J. Edgar and I have a surprising amount in common. For instance, we both always get our man.

5x19

Waters: You look awfully comfy. What kind of fabric is that? Red: Oh. A lightweight merino. Super 120, natural stretch. I swear by it. Waters: Marty, do you think you can do that same multi-colored puppy tooth in that collection?

5x19

Waters: So, what do you think of this one? Red: Oh, John, yes. I like that. But go with the Snowy River Collection in the Glen Urquhart plaid. It worked for the Duke of Windsor. And, just my opinion, consider a vest. Waters: You think? Are vests in again? Red: Vests have never been out.

5x19

Red: What’s that smell? Is that lavender? And mint. Is that your head?  What kind of products do you use? I’m dying of curiosity. Garvey: Wouldn’t that be nice. Red: You smell that? Dembe: Yes. It’s lovely. Red: I’ll say.  Absolutely lovely. Whatever it is, you and I need to get some.

6x1

Red: I’ve turned over a new leaf. Spinach. Steamed. No butter, no oil, no salt.And very, very little taste.

6x2

Liz: Have you lost weight? Red: Five pounds. Seven pounds when it’s in the morning.

6x1

Red: I recommend Cairo. Beautiful, historic. And thanks to a combination of the Muslim Brotherhood and international Islamophobia, completely abandoned by Western tourists. You and Picasso will have the pyramids to yourselves.

6x1

Red: I prefer to keep my nips and tucks to myself.

6x5

Red: The suit is actually a prunelle weave blue with a subtle overlay of red. So in the right light, it goes quite plum.

6x5

Red: A bulge at my waistline? I’d prefer that the witness leave my bulges out of this entirely. I want that struck from the record. It’s embarrassing.

6x7

Red: Okay, I will not be judged by anyone who likes Schumann. I refuse to be sent to my death by Philistines. Judge Wilkins: I love Schumann. “Fantasie in C Major” was played at my mother’s funeral this past summer. Red: I’m sorry for your loss.

6x6

Red: For the love of - please tell me that’s not a Vermilion Flycatcher. Nurse: What are you talking about? Red: That little fella right there. What the hell are you people doing with a Flycatcher in your aviary? They’re endangered. That little guy should be in an open habitat or desert scrub, at the very least. Nurse: Look, I don’t know nothing about birds and desert scrub and all that. Red: You know what? Never mind. I am absolutely dead wrong. That is a Red Factor Canary. Probably domestically bred. He’s perfectly fine.