Til Death Do Us Part.

Beneath The Moonlight.

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.