"I can't," Kate informs Steve. "I have a thing."
"A thing?" Steve stares at her. "Since when? You've known about this for months, Kate!"
The Kate in question shrugs one shoulder as best she can with her arm in a sling. "Well, I have my own obligations, Steve. You can't just assume these things."
"Assu—Kate, it's on the calendar!"
"Well, so was Rosh Hashanah and look who missed that this year."
Steve glowers at her. "So did Bucky."
"Bucky was brainwashed. He gets a pass."
Steve suspects that the two people he loves most in the world have been put on this earth just to fuck with him.
The Bucky in question appears in the doorway, ties draped over his shoulders and clutched in his hands. "Someone help," he shakes a handful of brightly colored satin at the pair of them.
"Not blue," Kate says at the exact same time Steve says, "Not purple."
"Don't be an asshole, Steve," Kate says, reaching up on her toes to ruffle his hair.
"Don't!" He ducks away from her. "I'm really pissed at you, Kate."
"I know. Don't be."
"How would you feel if I did this to you?"
"You have done this to me," Kate points out just as Steve realizes this very fact. "I'll be there, I just can't come with you. I have to do a thing beforehand."
She pushes up on her toes to press her lips against Steve's cheek before breezing over to Bucky and plucking a bowtie off his shoulder. "This one," she tells him before continuing past him.
The door slams shut.
Bucky shakes his head at Steve before looking at the tie in his hand. "When did I get this?"
It's a deep red tie with navy arrows patterned on it.
"Buck, half of our ties have arrows on them," Steve points out. "I don't think she realizes we notice."
"Tony!" Kate jumps him, and just as expected, his arms wrap around her. He's always given the best hugs, not that he wants that spread around. "How are you?"
"Tired." He's got a black eye but he doesn't smell like booze. Being Iron Man hasn't been the best for his health but it's been amazing for his liver and his personality. He squeezes her tight for a minute before dropping her back to her feet and planting a kiss on her temple. "You?"
"Can't complain." She links her arm through his. "Where's everyone else?"
"Running late. Not everybody can be as awesome as us."
"Don't talk shit about my cousins, Stark. I don't let them talk shit about you."
"It's Martha, isn't it? I know she hates me."
Kate laughs, hip-checking him. "Martha loves you."
"You're confusing Martha with you," Tony argues as they make their way into the Smithsonian.
"Oh, god, just get married already," a familiar voice gripes. "You're late."
"Ugh, you," Tony gripes. "Go away. I only need one annoying little sister here."
Sharon loops her arm through Tony's free one. "What would dad say, Stark?"
"I don't know, but your moms would tell you to be nice to me."
By this point, the exhibit director has managed to find them. "Mr. Stark, Ms. Bishop, Ms. Carter, thank you so much for coming! If you'd like to wait in the exhibit for the rest of the group to arrive...?"
"Yeah, lets!" Kate gives the director a smile and drags the other two past the velvet ropes.
"Who else is coming?" Sharon asks once they're in the dimly-lit entrance to the new Making of Captain America exhibit.
"Martha and Trip," Kate offers.
"Jemma and Mack, I think," Sharon adds. "Not sure about Jess. You know how she is." She leans around Tony to eye Kate. "Did you tell them?"
"Who?" Tony asks.
"Steve and Bucky," Sharon completely ignores the glare Kate is giving her.
Tony looks completely mystified. "Why would Rogers and Barnes care about Kate?"
"Oh, wow, thanks," Kate snaps. "Make a girl feel special, why don't you?"
"No, seriously. How do they even know you who are outside of the. You know. The Hawkeye thing?" Horror bleeds into his expression as understanding dawns in his eyes. "Are you—are you with them? Is that why Steve was asking about if you had clearance for the Tower? Oh my god," he shakes his head vigorously. "Oh, god, I can't unthink it. Martinelli, help me!"
"How have you never told them?"
"It never came up!"
"Oh my god," Tony turns between them, cutting off their eye contact, sounding all the world like a petulant child. "Tell them what?"
Kate pulls them to a stop in front of the life-size portrait of the Howling Commandos, standing in front of the one who's ears and eyebrows she has, among other things. "About him."
"I'm with Sharon," Tony the traitor says after a moment. "How the hell does that not come up?"
The rest of the gang shows up eventually, and they take their time wandering the exhibit that they've donated heirlooms and information and their history to.
Kate stands in front of the mannequin that wears her grandfather's old uniform and remembers being a little girl, finding it hidden away in an old trunk in the attic, smelling of tobacco and cedar and sweat. An old photo, some vintage Captain America comics.
She'd been a teenager before he told her what it meant, an angry girl with split lip and bloody knuckles.
And then he'd sat her down and helped her with her French homework.
A complicated man, her grandfather.
Kate and Sharon get dressed in Tony's suite. It probably looks scandalous and someone has tweeted this at Pepper because she just sent Kate a text asking her to remind Tony to not wear his sunglasses to the opening.
So she's okay with that, then.
"Are you ready?" Tony yells from the front. "C'mon."
"Jesus," Sharon snaps. "Shut up."
Sharon's hair is pin-curled and she looks stunning in sheath dress in a light gold. White, Kate had advised, while being her signature look, would be too bridal. Next to her, Kate feels short and just a little extra in her very sparkly purple gown.
"Look at this," Tony is saying. "We look nothing alike. How is that possible?"
Kate adjusts his tie out of habit. A gold tie that somehow manages not to look tacky, which is miraculous. "I don't look like my cousins."
"That's different," Tony allows her to neaten his jacket collar, smoothing the shoulders. A maroon and black tux, of all things. It's a bit on the nose for Kate's taste, but that's just Tony. "Cousins and siblings are different. Why is she so much taller?"
"I'm right here, little bro."
"I'm older than you!"
"Yeah, but you're shorter." Sharon uses his shoulder as an arm rest to prove her point.
It's true, though. They don't really look alike, except for the nose, which is easy to miss unless they're standing side by side as they are now.
"See, she's right there," Bucky nudges Steve and points.
Kate looks amazing, as always, dark hair coiled on one side, her dress a frothy sort of purple that looks like feathers, though he's pretty sure it's not.
"Why is she with Tony?"
Bucky shrugs as they make their way to the guest-of-honor spot. If Steve hasn't figured it out by now, Bucky's not going to let the cat out of the bag. Kate should be the one to do it.
Bucky sweeps her up in a hug, even though it's only been a few hours since he last saw her, pressing his face against her neck. He can smell her lotion, honey and lilac, and she's warm in his arms and that's the most important thing. He pulls back, holding her face in his hands, examining.
Kate leans into his metal hand with a sigh. He looks between her and the blown-up picture of the Commandos that provides the backdrop to the podium.
"Yeah," he nods. "I can see it."
"Pretty sure you can't," she chuckles.
"Sure I can." He tilts her head a bit more. "It's the ears. And here," he rubs a thumb across her eyebrow. He presses a light kiss to her lips.
"Psst, hey, do you want to give Gramps a heart attack?" Someone hisses. "Pack it in!"
Bucky can't figure out who the speaker is even as they take their seats and Kate snaps, "okay, well, first of all, mind your own business, and second of all, mind your own business."
It takes Bucky a few seconds to realize that while the dais they are all seated on, facing a legion of tables, is a place of honor, it is not the place of honor. The would be the table where Gabe Jones and Monty Falsworth are seated, with people who are presumably their wives and oldest children.
Bucky swallows hard against memories and tries to distract himself from questioning if he should be here at all.
He doesn’t have to try long; the head of the museum steps up to the microphone to say a few words that Bucky only half-hears until Stark is beckoned forward.
"So I'm the oldest of the youngest, apart from Steve and Bucky," Tony says to laughs. "And I was voted to lead us off for the evening. When the Smithsonian first contacted me about this exhibit, I had mixed emotions because I had a complicated relationship with my father. But then two dear friends—who happen to be sitting up here with me—convinced me that maybe it was time to try and get to know the man better. And that was a journey all of us took. Some of us more willingly than others." He shoots a look to Kate that she misses, too busy making eyes at Steve. "So now, as a way to say thanks to her, I'm going to invite the youngest of our number up. Early on in this project, she started calling us the Kid Commandos," Tony tells the audience like he's telling them a secret. "So Kate, why don't you come up and give us a few words?"
The group claps sporadically, confused, as Kate glares at Tony before he grabs her wrist and drags her up.
"C'mon, Katie, say a few words."
Bucky can see murder in her eyes as she steps up to the microphone. "Hi! Like Tony said, this was—this was an experience. There was a lot of digging in attics and basements. Wading through mold." She looks at a loss for words and Bucky can see the moment she goes oh, hell with it, just start talking. "This exhibit is called The Making of Captain America, but It's so much more than that. It's about the lives and legacies of the Howling Commandos. It's about Captain America, but it's also about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes and Peggy Carter. It's about Howard Stark and Gabe Jones and Dernier and Dum-Dum and Morita and Falsworth. It's about people we know and love and we're honored to get to share them with you." Kate swallows visibly and he's close enough he can see her blink back tears. "I know you'll love my grandfather as much as I do."
This time, the applause she gets is enthusiastic.
There is schmoozing, and champagne, and food, and Bucky is a super assassin spy, so it's easy for him to track down all the Kid Commandos in the depths of the exhibit. How they all manage to disappear with nobody causing a fuss is probably just another piece of evidence that they are who they say they are.
Walking past his face is unnerving, the face of Bucky before the Winter Soldier. A him without Hydra in his head, a him with two hands—but this time, this exhibit, he's got Steve with him. Not like after SHIELD fell.
There are seven of them passing around a bottle of champagne, on the floor in front of the uniform-clad mannequins that Bucky pointedly avoids looking at. They are ghosts of a time gone by and Bucky has enough of those—he's more concerned with the flesh and blood reminders sitting in a circle.
"Join us," Stark says, offering him the bottle. Stark has never been particularly kind to Bucky.
Bucky doesn't blame him for this, but it still remains that kindness from Tony Stark isn't something he's accustomed to.
"Okay," Steve says, crossing his arms next to Bucky in a way that's probably more Captain America than he realizes. "Who?"
"Howard Stark," Tony raises his hand.
"You don't say," Steve says, droll.
"Peggy Carter," Sharon says. "And Howard Stark."
"Whoa, whoa, what?" A woman with dark hair interrupts. She's wearing a leather jacket on top of her jewel-tone blue dress and looks just as likely to punch you as look at you.
"Did you not hear that?" Stark leans back on his elbows, a picture of casual. "Yeah, apparently pops invested genetic material in the Carter/Martinelli household. That," he nods at Sharon, "was the return."
Sharon takes off one of her heels and throws it at Tony. "That's disgusting."
"I know! It's so sad that's how you were created."
The next shoe that hits him is Kate's. "Why are you such a dick, Tony?"
A man laughs at the three of them, standing up and offering Bucky his hand, then Steve. He's huge, all broad shoulders and wide hands and easy smiles.
A familiar smile.
"Do we get to guess?" Bucky asks.
The group exchanges glances and burst out laughing all at once.
"Sure, go ahead," Kate smirks at him.
"You're Dugan's," Bucky says, ignoring Steve's snort next to him.
"Dugan is your guess?" Steve mutters.
"Alphonso Mackenzie. Dum-Dum Dugan's grandson." Alphonso Mackenzie grins. "Call me Mack."
Kate laughs, presumably at the look on Steve's face, before grabbing his hand and pulling him down into the circle. "You, too," she tugs at Bucky's jacket, sandwiching herself between them.
"Oh, ugh, I hate it when Sharon's right," Tony looks at the three of them.
"Right about what?"
"Don't worry about it, Martha," Kate addresses a woman with big eyes and a snub nose.
"Don't worry about it? You're the jam in a supersoldier jammie dodger, I think I'll worry all I like."
There is a long pause before a fine-featured woman with mousey hair clears her throat. "Well. That was a visual I could have done without, no offense."
She and Martha have British accents and the same chin.
"Falsworths," Steve says a split second before Bucky. He doesn't say anything else, though, which gives Bucky a chance to point to Martha and add "Jones."
"Well done," Martha smiles—it's a familiar smile, one that warms Bucky from his toes. "Doctor Martha Jones. UNIT."
"Doctor Jemma Simmons. SHIELD."
"That's the smarty-pants branch," Mack says with a genial wave of his hand.
"Oh, what?" Tony snaps. "Just because I don't introduce myself as Doctor Tony Stark doesn’t mean I'm not Doctor Tony Stark."
"Booooo," the woman in the biker jacket fishes peanuts from somewhere and throws them at Stark. "Booo. Boooooo."
"This is Jessica," Kate points with her toes, since Tony is still holding her shoe hostage.
"Jones," Jessica finishes. "And surprisingly, I'm not a Jones, I'm--"
"A Morita," Bucky interrupts to stunned looks. "What? It's not that hard, you're all sitting right under their pictures--"
"Hey, guys! Sorry we're late!" A skinny black guy with a huge grin rounds the corner, his arm around a woman at least a foot shorter than he is with frizzy brown hair and a bucktoothed smile.
Kate and the new girl shriek at roughly the same decibel and latch on to—not each other.
"Trip!" Kate squeals, reaching her arms up to the man, who grips her by her elbows and pulls her up into a hug. "I didn't think you were going to make it!"
"Got done early. Thanks to Doreen," he inclines his head toward the girl he arrived with, who has yanked Mack down into a hug.
"Oh, hey, Steve, Bucky, this is Antoine Triplett and that's Doreen Green."
"Okay, well, she's definitely a Dugan, too," Bucky says of Doreen.
"Wow! That's impressive! Normally people think I'm a Stark on account of how tight me and T-Pain over there are."
"Sure," leather jacket snorts. "Whatever, Doreen."
You can see it, though. Doreen and Mack have the same easy smile, the same gap in the front teeth. They might be separated by about a foot and a half and be on opposite ends of the skin color spectrum, but the resemblance is there.
"Are you done with this game yet?"
"Chill, Jess," Kate says from where she's adjusting Trip's bowtie. "You're not having fun?"
"I make a point to never have fun."
"Tony," Kate finishes fiddling with Trip's tie. "Please pass Jess your pocket flask so she can have a good time."
"I don't--" Tony stops when Kate glares at him. "Yeah, okay, I do. Fine." He pulls out a small silver flask and tosses it to Jess. Bucky is pretty sure it has War Machine Roxx engraved on it, but he's not positive.
"Okay, so," Kate shoves Trip down into a sitting position before seating herself. "Steve and Bucky are trying to figure out who we belong to. So far, Bucky is doing better than Steve."
"Hey!" Steve looks offended until Kate sits back down, swinging her legs over his in a pretty standard-issue possessive Hawkeye move. Steve settles pretty quickly after that, leaning back on his hands. "Antoine Triplett, huh? One of Derniers?"
Antoine looks impressed but Jessica Jones snorts. "How is he only half right all the time?"
"Half right?" Offended Steve again.
"Also a Jones. Sorry, Captain." Antoine looks sheepish as he says it.
"Is everyone a Jones?" Steve asks, and Kate starts to cackle. "Wait. No. You, too?"
Kate laughs even harder, flinging herself backwards over Bucky's legs. "We're everywhere."
"Your genetics are bonkers," Jessica Jones observes.
"Thanks!"
"That wasn't—ugh," Jessica sighs and takes another swallow from the flask.
"So are we hiding here for the rest of the party, or are we going to go rub elbows?" Antoine asks. "There's a lot of people who kind of came here for us."
"Ugh," Jessica repeats. "People are the worst."
"All right. We're going to do this for real, this time." Sharon passes out small rectangles that say Hi I'm (blank).
Kate dives across the circle and snatches a sharpie from Sharon's hand. "I've got Tony's." She scribbles something and then slaps it on Stark's chest. "There you go."
"Hi, I'm—problematic fave? Seriously, Kate?"
"Kate, I don't have extras!"
"Everyone knows who Tony is," Kate dismisses. "What they don't know that he's our problematic fave."
"I'm not problematic!"
"You are so problematic. And why are you ignoring the fave part?"
"Well, fine, I've got yours, right here," Tony steals the marker from Kate and then looks lost when he tries to figure out where to put the sticker.
"Hi I'm a Brat?" Kate snorts dismissively. "Really, Tony? You can't do better?"
"You're both children," Sharon informs them, tossing the sharpie to Martha.
"Unwanted opinion," Kate says, just as Tony slaps the sticker on her hip. "Ugh, jerkface."
It's not fair to say that pandemonium ensues, but one could argue it's a mild pandemonium while they all write one another's nametags. Nobody is going to take them seriously, and Bucky can't help but wonder if that was the point, and if they are all going to walk out their with truths on their chests and none of the guests will ever realize it
Hi, I'm a time traveler reaches her hands out to Kate. "Let's go."
"Thanks, Doctor." Kate smirks at her cousin, who gives her a light shove.
Kate turns back to them, reaching a hand out to them. Both Bucky and Steve stare at her before Steve breaks the silence. "Seriously, Hawkeye? You think you can pull both of us up? That's just going to--"
He stops talking when he presumably feels a hand on the back of his neck, just as Bucky does.
"I have just been informed that there are shrimp quiche and cheese pouches being served," Jessica Jones says from behind them. "So let's go," and with what seems to be very little effort on her part, she hauls both Steve and Bucky to their feet.
"Thanks, Jess!" Kate says brightly before doubling over laughing. "Your faces."
"C'mon, nerds," Jones grabs Stark by his arm and starts dragging him out of the exhibit.
"Don't call me a nerd! I'm a superhero!"
"Also a nerd," she says as they fade from view and hearing.
"Well, boys," Kate moves between, looping her arms through theirs. "Shall we?"
Kate is off rescuing Jessica Jones from a group of donors—or maybe it's the other way around, Bucky isn't sure—when Gabe Jones finally makes his way over to them.
He shakes their hands, and for a ninety-year-old man, he's got a good grip still.
"I just want to let you boys know," Gabe informs them, "that I respect you and love you both. But if you do anything to hurt my baby girl, I will end your lives or haunt you from the great beyond. Are we clear?" Gabe nods at them, seemingly satisfied by their stunned silences. "Now, have you met my wife?"
Later, when the three of them are back home, and Steve has stopped sulking long enough to pull all the pins out of Kate's hair, she apologizes for not telling them. There was just never a not-awkward time to do it.
Yeah, the future isn't anything like Bucky imagined.
It's better.