[for Various] Steve Rogers' Birthday

[onlyapassenger]

Memorial Day had passed by with little more than a couple of a beers and a five minute conversation, but Bucky'll be damned if he lets Steve's birthday go the same way. Even during the darkest days of the War, birthdays were always given the special treatment; hell, Toro once blew their cover making sure Bucky had a good one. The gruelling grind of the past couple of months is still fresh in body and mind, but in the simple preparation for the day's get-together, Bucky's found some semblance of peace.

He's not much of a party animal -- he's not even much of a planner -- but things fall into place easily enough. They set up in and around Steve's place, that nice bar of his getting some use for once. There are a couple of goats spinning on a spit outside, courtesy of Thor, and a more traditional grill manned by Bucky himself. Platters of cheeses and fruits and vegetables line a table covered in a red, white and blue tablecloth, and there's more than enough flag-themed birthday cake to go around (strawberries, blueberries, and whipped cream make up the familiar stars and stripes, doubling as both food and decoration). Music from Steve's youth plays in the background out of borrowed speakers, and in lieu of streamers, there's a banner that stretches over the front door of his house that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OLD MAN.

It's not a lot, but it's something.

[Open to Marvels, significant others/close friends of Marvels, and any assorted friends of Steve. This post will be linked to the main community on July 4th. Slated post here. ST/LT welcome!]

Comments

[manwithoutfear]

I find myself grateful for the lack of fireworks. The music's quiet enough to be muffled by conversation and the crackle of cooking meat, and while there are more pleasant smells in the world, I find I'm okay so long as I stay upwind of some of the more deodorant-challenged guests. It's not a bad way to spend an afternoon, though I find myself reminded of how isolated I've come to be from most of these people -- the only people here I have left, short of Ellen and Natalya. This time next year -- if there is a next year, for me -- I might just have a son or daughter on my hip, and there's not a person here I've told yet. Having had the minute details of my life plastered all over the papers at home, I've tried my hardest to avoid that here -- perhaps heading too far into the opposite direction, playing everything so close to the vest as to become a recluse.

I frown around a strawberry and debate making the rounds.

[shewaswarned]

Ellen's just grateful she isn't one of those pregnant women who becomes increasingly bothered by different smells, or the scent of meat alone might be enough to make her run for the nearest garbage can. She's not exactly ravenous, but she hasn't hit the stage of morning sickness yet, so right now it's just a waiting game.

What she's also grateful for is Matt inviting her along - she sees some familiar faces and some new, cradling a drink (water) as she steps up alongside him, her hand briefly curving around his wrist to give it a squeeze. "Hey."

[manwithoutfear]

"Hey," I murmur, quick to put down my plate so I can turn towards her. I've found myself becoming more protective of late, as though if I stay close, she'll stay safe. The more cynical part of me thinks it's probably the opposite, but I can't help but rest a hand over her stomach, dropping a quick kiss to her cheek.

"Do you want to sit down?"

[shewaswarned]

"In a little while," Ellen promises, with a soft wordless hum of enjoyment as he kisses her, turning her head to meet him halfway so that his lips brush closer to the corner of her mouth as she savors the warmth of his hand on her stomach. The slightly new shape of her abdomen is impossible to discern beneath the loose blouse she's wearing, and even she has trouble noticing any kind of difference when she looks at herself in the mirror, but she can tell her body is already changing. They haven't told anyone, and she won't be spilling the beans until the time is right.

"What'd you get?" she asks, peering at his plate with interest.

[manwithoutfear]

"Nothing that Thor cooked," I reply. I'm a picky enough eater as it is, and God only knows what Asgardians think qualifies as good eating. "Just... fruits. A slice of cake. Did you want anything?"

[shewaswarned]

"Maybe a little bite of something. I don't know. I don't have much of an appetite," she admits, taking another sip of water.

It's not that she's outright nauseous, but she knows she needs to eat something. Her gaze switches to the food table, and she starts readying herself a plate with a few things.

[manwithoutfear]

An apology is at the tip of my tongue, but instead I just follow her towards the food.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

[shewaswarned]

"Hmm? A little fruit this morning," she promises, not wanting him to worry. It's a little easier said than done given the part where she's carrying his child, but she doesn't want to do anything to add more fuel to the emotional fire.

More fruit is what's in store, and she starts adding some to her plate, licking juice off her fingertips at the end.

[manwithoutfear]

"Is that all you could get down?" I ask, a touch sympathetic. I don't add anything else to my own plate, hovering near her as I wait. This is probably one of the safest places we could be, in the grand scheme of things, but between the explosive events down in Rapture and the attacks from the sea, one can't be too careful.

[shewaswarned]

"For now. I'm waiting for the ravenous appetite phase to kick in," Ellen replies, though the fruit is light enough not to bother her stomach, and she stabs at a few pieces with her fork, taking small bites.

"Don't worry," she softly adds, after swallowing. "There's just a lot of changes happening."

[manwithoutfear]

"...which is exactly the kind of thing that makes me worry," I say, dryly.

"All these changes."

It's the not being able to keep track of them to my liking that's the real cause for concern.

[shewaswarned]

"Don't worry," Ellen replies, almost as dryly.

"There's a lot more to come." She has a feeling there will be some negatives exchanged for others, but isn't the end result more than worth it? She places her free hand in Matt's, fingers gripping around his to squeeze.