You hadn't yet had a chance to move some of your belongings into the compound, even though you weren't going to live there full-time.  Both you and Steve agreed that Brooklyn would remain as your primary home, because it had to be; it was the only way that the two of you could resist getting dragged back into this life again and to resist losing all of the privacy and normalcy that you had found.  After a quick run back to the house, Steve returned to the compound with clothes and accessories, leaving you with hope that he had picked out items that matched. Once you put together the best of your options and realized that maybe the man could be trusted, you made your way from the bathroom and into the bedroom, where Steve was ready to go, and had been for quite some time.

"I didn't get what you wanted, did I?" he asked almost shyly.  "I mean, you look amazing, don't get it wrong...but you don't look happy with it. Or me."

"No, you did good," you reassured him, "it's not about the clothes.  I think I'm just not really feeling excited for this party."

"Why not?"

"I mean...I'm ecstatic to see our kids again in the same place together, and I'm excited to catch up with the others and to hear what they learned at Xavier's, but..." you paused with a quiet groan, "I don't know, Steve, it's like a passing of the torch tonight, you know?  Like those of us who didn't come back are handing the job over to kids who are just barely ready."

"I see your point, I do," he answered.  Steve took measured steps towards you, his hands out for you to take as he got close enough.  "But, honey, we weren't really ready either.  Right? We were all thrown into this life when we were needed, and we did okay."

"But we can do it better now," you insisted, "we can make sure that they're prepared so much better than we were."

"So, Tony working with Anthony and Wanda teaching Brooke isn't preparing them?  Grant has been with the Four for over five years now. (Y/N), they're far readier than we ever were.  The only other spot is going to Allie, because the others are too young yet.  We get to suffer this agony for a few years to come."

You closed your eyes and tried to push away the images of your trio as members of the team, not wanting to face the inevitable.  They had seen terrible things in their young lives, from the dangers that you and Steve had survived, and they were active in the fight to save the universe from Thanos; somehow, those things still paled in comparison to what they would have to fight day in and day out.  Those events were moments in time, but the job as an Avenger was ongoing and filled with dangers every single day.  Despite it all, you had to give in, and realize that your fears were obstructing your rational mind from taking the lead.  "You're right."

"I...I am?"

"Don't you dare tell anyone I said that."

"Secret's safe," he smiled, putting his hands up in mock surrender.  "After all these years, no one would believe me anyway, that's for sure."

~~~

Even once you had arrived at the party, you weren't feeling overly happy about being there.  The sight of your children mingling and interacting with the team they had grown up with warmed your heart some, and the looks of pride that their aunts and uncles were giving them left you filled with it as well. 

Maybe Steve was right; they were trained and ready.  Their skills were proven time and again, and if their instructors hadn't felt as if they were solid in their abilities, this day wouldn't have come so soon.  It took a very conscious effort, but in that moment, you decided to let your fears go and move forward; if nothing else, you would do more to be sure that they would be well protected and you would help them to build their confidence as you worked at their side.

You had been at the party for only a matter of minutes when one absence was glaringly obvious; T'Challa had said that he would be attending, and you hadn't seen him in years so you were looking forward to it perhaps more than anything else.  "Hey, Dad," you said as you moved to stand by Tony, "any sign of T'Challa yet?  Has he called?"

"He's just running late."

"Seems weird, doesn't it?"

"Why?  You were late," he scoffed with a dark chuckle.

"Not really helping, old man."

"Not really old, smartass. Your boy may be taking over my title, but it's not an age thing.  I just don't want to do it anymore."

"Because Pepper said I can't," you mocked with a lip pushed out in a pout.  If it were up to him, he'd be in a suit right now and looking for trouble, and there was no way that he could hide that from you.  "It's okay, I won't tell anyone...even though we all know already and talk about it all the time."

"All the time?!  What do you guys say?!"

"Oh, look," you deflected, scurrying away, "Sam and Buck are here!  Gotta go!"

"Mmm hmm...chickenshit," he mumbled back, and all he could do was shake his head and watch you walk away, smiling like an idiot because he had you back to give him as much crap as you wanted, and he would take it more than willingly because it was you.

~~~

When T'Challa finally made his appearance, several hours later, he wasn't alone.  The young woman who walked alongside and keeping up with his long strides had a vague familiarity somewhere in the recesses of your mind, but you couldn't place how you knew her.  She was dressed for the occasion, though she appeared to be working as one of the Dora Milaje, and you could only imagine how many weapons she was actually carrying in disguise.  If Okoye had anything to do with her training, then she was easily the most powerful woman in the room.  Even over the loud music that filled the air around you, you could hear Anthony's gasp at the sight of her.

"Dad," he nudged Steve, "that's Esihle.  Oh my god, I haven't seen her in forever.  Wow...she looks good..." he paused, pulling nervously at his collar to loosen his tie.  "She looks...really good."

"That's Esihle?!  Your old girlfriend?"

"Yeah.  I knew she wanted to be a part of the guard, but we lost touch before she was old enough to start training.  Wow, she's amazing, isn't she?"

"Ant," Steve smiled, "you're drooling."

Your son swiped his arm over his face quickly as if his father spoke the truth, and even from the distance between them, Steve swore he could have been standing next to Grant with the amount of heat emanating from the young man.  "Excuse me, Dad...I'll be, uh...I'll be right back."

"Keep breathing, son."

As Anthony approached, he caught T'Challa's attentions, despite it being the last thing he needed or wanted.  The King raised his hand to Esihle and asked her quietly to remain back as he made his move to intercept his nephew.  "Anthony," he began, "how have you been?  How is your training going?"

"Uncle T'Challa," he smiled in return, "it's going great.  I've been great.  Yeah...everything's been really...great."

"Great," T'Challa laughed softly.  He put a reassuring hand on Anthony's shoulder, turning him just slightly so that they could speak more directly, man-to-man.  "She's working.   However, once the party comes to a close, I'll release her from the commitment for the rest of the evening.  Esihle takes her role very seriously, and I feel as though I would cause her to believe that I didn't value her guard if I let her go so early."

"Of course, absolutely," Ant nodded emphatically.  "I don't want to interfere at all."

T'Challa was about to let him go on his way, but the look on his face was so filled with nervousness, awe, and longing that he just couldn't break the guy's heart to make him wait any longer.  A strong grip replaced the reassuring hold, and he held Anthony in place while he waved the object of his affections over to meet them.  It was difficult to contain his entertained laugh when he could feel the tremble of anxiety beneath his hand, but the King held his composure long enough to bring the two of them together.

"Your Highness?" she asked plainly, her eyes never leaving her King, even under the steady gaze of her old love.

"Esihle, Anthony would like to spend a few moments catching up from your years apart, if you're amenable to it.  I'm certain that there's no imminent danger here, so I feel confident in releasing you from your duties for the rest of the evening."

"Yes," she nodded, finally looking to Ant, "I would enjoy that very much, your Highness."

"Very well.  You two have a wonderful evening."

"Thanks, Uncle T'Challa," Ant sighed with a growing smile, turning towards Esihle with a fresh wave of anxiety spurning him on.  "S-so...how have you been?"

"Very well.  And you?"

"Good.  Busy with the tech and all.  I mean, I'm sure that you've seen more advanced work in Wakanda though, right?  I'm sure that Shuri makes this look like child's play."

"Give yourself more credit, Anthony," she answered eagerly.  "What you and Mr. Stark have done is impressive in its own right. You'll be a worthy successor to Iron Man." 

Not knowing what to say, and lost in his regard for her positive encouragement, the short conversation halted almost as quickly as it had begun, leaving the two of them caught in awkward glances at each other and around the room.  From the farthest side of the room, you caught the wave of your son's hesitance and nerves, but once you saw for yourself what you were feeling, you wished nothing more than for the ability to calm him as he had done for you so many times.

"Listen," he cautiously began again, "I'm sorry that I just kinda fell off the earth and never called back. So much was going on..."

"I understand, Anthony, I know.  T'Challa told me of what happened here when Thanos arrived, and I can't imagine that the year preceding it was any easier for you.  Our time together...we were young, and it was fun, and that was wonderful as it lasted.  I treasure our time spent together."

"Me too."

Again, there was the awkward glances, only this time, they were paired with soft smiles and uncomfortable giggles under their breath, and you could feel his anxiety beginning to wane.

"Do you want to get outta here?" he asked hopefully.  "Go somewhere and talk for a while?"

"Yes, I would love that, Anthony.  Very much."

~~~

Over at the bar, you were with your husband, Sam, and Bucky, filling the three in on everything that you were feeling and seeing, leaving you completely responsible for keeping the men quiet and saving your poor, unknowing son from having to deal with their chiding and embarrassment.  Ant hadn't really been interested in dating in the recent years, with his entire focus going into the new Iron Man suit and learning from Tony, so you weren't willing to let the trio of troublemaking stand in the way of the first chance your son had at having a life outside of the lab.

"I don't see how a man of his age hasn't been out there on the scene," Sam said with a shake of his head as he grabbed a new beer from behind the bar, handing another to Steve. "He's a good-looking guy, and you can't tell me that he hasn't been feeling the need."

"Sam, let's not talk about my son's needs, okay?" Steve grimaced.  He popped the top from his beer bottle and tossed it aside, readily taking a long drink, only to pause and hiccup, looking at it with a furrowed brow as if that had never happened before.

"Something wrong with your beer?" Bucky asked, now wondering if there were something wrong with his too, giving it a quick inspection.

"No, just a little flip in my gut," Steve answered, hiccupping again.

"Since when can't you handle your alcohol?  Thor hasn't even spiked it yet."

"Honey, you don't look so good," you joined in, taking a quick hold of his arm when he began to waver and the color drained from his face.  "Steve, sit down."

"Yeah...I just...I need...I-I need t-to s-sit..." he stammered, but he never reached the bar stool.  His eyes rolled back in his head and his body convulsed, leaving you unable to catch him when your hand slipped from his clammy skin and his full weight crashed down to flatten the table as he passed out cold.