AMERICA'S POV

"Any fours?"

"Go fish." I sigh and take a new card from the pile. I thought Go Fish was supposed to be a game of chance, but I might just be really bad at it. "Your turn."

"Okay, um... any sixes?" Groaning, I hand two over to a triumphant Steve, who creates another set. He's beating me and it's not even close. 

"How are you so good at this?" I ask, exasperated. 

"You just have to concentrate. See, right now, when you have your hands like that, I can see your entire deck." My hands whip up to hide my cards, and he laughs. 

I shrug as I sort my cards. "Guess I'm just a little distracted with tomorrow." 

Steve senses my nerves and reaches a hand out to me. "It's going to be perfect no matter what happens, doll. It's us, right? Everyone already knows we love each other. Tomorrow just puts it on a piece of paper." I've been freaking out about everything that could go wrong for the last week, and I probably wasn't great company through all that. Someone knocks softly on the door. "You stay, I'll get it."

When he opens the door, I hear muffled voices and Steve steps out into the hallway. Next thing I know, there's a muffled "hey!" and a thundering of multiple footsteps. I run over to the door and open it, but he's gone. The only thing in the hallway is a little piece of paper on the floor, which I bend down to read.

Don't worry, we'll have your senior citizen back in time for tomorrow. Probably.

-You Know Who I Am, The Best Man, The Flash, and Clint

Everyone signed their own 'name.' Rolling my eyes, I take the paper and head back into my room to clean up the cards. Since the girls are taking me out tonight, I should have suspected the guys would do something for Steve. And Clint flew in this afternoon, so the gang is all here. 

The clock reads five-thirty, which means I have about a half an hour until we leave. Where, I'm not exactly sure, but I'm supposed to look cute. That's the only warning I got. At least I got a warning. I can only imagine what the guys are doing tonight. 

Poor Steve.

Skimming through my closet, I pull out a black fitted turtleneck, jean skirt, and knee-high black suede boots. My hair gets pulled into a high curly ponytail and I apply makeup slightly darker than usual. It is my bachelorette party, after all. Time to have some fun on my last single night.

I grab my bag and a coat before king out into the hallway, where I run into someone. I really need to start looking where I'm going. The girl's papers drop to the floor, and I bend to help her gather them.

"I am so sorry," I mutter, stacking them all up nicely and handing them to her.

"It's no problem. You look like you're in a hurry." We straighten up, and I get a look at the girl. She's short and wears a lab coat over an AC/DC shirt and jeans. Her dark waves frame her pale face, with bangs hovering above bright blue eyes. And her smile is so friendly and warm that it takes me aback. Something about her seems familiar.

"Do I know you?" I ask, trying to figure out where I could have possibly met this girl.

"I don't think so. I mean, I know who you are, but we haven't met in person, at least," she says, offering a hand. "I'm Eliza."

"Eliza," I repeat, thinking as I shake her hand. Then it clicks. "You're Bruce's sister, right?"

Her face falls at the mention of her brother, but she nods. "Yep, that's me."

"Nice to meet you. I'm America. What brings you to the compound?" I ask. We both seem to be going the same way, so I walk with her.

"I'm helping Tony on a project. He also invited me to come and spend Christmas here so I, um, so I wouldn't be alone back at Stanford." Of course. It's the first Christmas without Bruce here. She quickly recovers from the sad moment with a smile. "Anyway, Laura can't leave the kids, so I'm Clint's date to your wedding tomorrow. Congratulations, by the way. Steve's a great guy."

"Thank you. All of the guys just kidnapped him, I think," I say, laughing. She joins me. Eliza has this warmth, this brightness, that I really admire. Most people aren't like that, but she naturally puts people at ease and makes them smile.

"Of course they did. He isn't going to like that very much, is he?"

"No, probably not. But hopefully he'll loosen up." We enter the living room, where Natasha and Wanda are waiting. They both look amazing as usual. To my surprise, Eliza throws her arms around Nat, who actually hugs her back in a very unlike-Nat way. 

"What are you doing here?" Nat asks excitedly.

"I'm Clint's date tomorrow. And I'm here for Christmas!"

"Wait, you two know each other?" I ask, motioning between them. Wanda seems equally as lost as me.

"We're partners," Natasha explains. "Eliza's an agent. I trained her myself."

"Really?" Wanda asks.

"Yeah, I joined when I turned eighteen. Been with SHIELD for three years now," Eliza says proudly.

"Oh, and congratulations on your first PhD!" Natasha gives her a high five.

"Thanks! That's one down, a lot to go." She grins and re-stacks her papers, cheerfully waving. "Speaking of that, I should get going. I have a final next week, and I need to be studying. It was nice meeting you all."

"Hey, hey, wait!" I say as she turns to leave. "You want to come out with us?"

"You should!" Wanda says. "We're celebrating Val's last night as a free woman!"

"Before she gets legally tied to the old man," Natasha adds. "Forever and ever."

I shoot her a playful warning glare. "Easy, Romanoff."

"Really?" Eliza perks up instantly at my offer, like a puppy offered a treat. It's sweet. 

"Yes! We have an extra ticket, anyway, since Laura had to cancel." I raise my eyebrows at Natasha, who smiles and seals her lips. Tickets? 

"I can't go out in this," Eliza says, gesturing to her lab coat and casual clothes.

Wanda grabs her arm and says, "Come on, I'm sure I have something you can borrow! You're short like me!"

"Five minutes!" Natasha calls over their shoulders as the two of them scamper off to Wanda's room.

"Tickets?" I ask her as I set my bag down. "What do we have tickets for?" 

"The New York Symphony," she says sarcastically, smiling as she does. "I've already said too much. We're going to have some fun, though. Trust me on that." 

Groaning inwardly, I ask, "I'm the designated driver, aren't I?" At my own bachelorette party. How ironic. 

She grins. 

Hey! We're so close to the wedding, I'm super excited! Leave your thoughts!!!!

Also... CAMEO?