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Hermione was irritated. Steve and Bucky had begged her to come to a party at Avengers Tower, but they hadn’t even shown up. Glancing down at the wine glass in her hand, she mused that she could’ve worn one of her older dresses instead of the new off shoulder, button up dress she had bought the previous week. Having been there for a few hours, she had already made friends with Natasha and Pepper, and had made plans to go out with them next week. She was sitting alone now because Tony had dragged Pepper off somewhere, and Natasha had been distracted by a phone call.
“You look annoyed,” said a handsome guy as he dropped onto the couch beside her. “Stark piss you off or is it something else?”
“Something else,” Hermione shook her head, glancing at him.
“Sam Wilson,” he introduced himself, shaking her hand. “Want to talk about it?”
“Hermione Granger,” she smiled. “I’m just annoyed that I came here for Steve and Bucky, but they haven’t shown up or called.”
“Wait, Hermione Granger? Do people sometimes call you ‘Mione?” Sam asked.
“Yeah,” she nodded in confusion.
“The guys had to go on a mission,” Sam told her. “I promised keep an eye out for you, let you know what happened, but they didn’t have a picture of you. They should be back soon though.”
“Great,” she sighed. “Don’t suppose you could just tell them I’ll see them tomorrow?”
Sam smiled and stood, offering his hand, “How about we take a spin around the dance floor instead?” Setting aside her empty glass, she took his hand.
Hermione lost track of how long she danced. Sometimes they danced with a group, and other times it was just the two of them. Sam dipped her as a song ended and she laughed in delight.
Standing back up, she was pulled back into a hard, muscular chest by an equally hard metal arm. Steve stepped up beside her and Sam backed away, eyes wide.
“Looks like you’ve been having fun,” Steve said, his eyes slightly narrowed at his friend. Sam gulped and headed towards the bar, leaving Hermione with the two super soldiers.
“What else are you supposed to do at a party?” Hermione huffed. “It’s not like you were here.”
“We’re here now,” Bucky growled into her ear. He started drawing her toward the door and continued, “Come with us.”
“I’d rather grab a drink,” Hermione said, pulling from his grasp and walking to the bar. Bumping shoulders with Sam, she turned to him and said, “Thanks for dancing with me tonight.”
“No problem,” Sam smiled. “Just do me a favor and don’t get me killed.” He headed out to the balcony and Hermione followed him with her eyes, frowning in confusion.
“You can have a drink at our place,” Steve told her, his arm going around her waist. He picked her up from the bar stool and threw her over his shoulder.
Gasping, Hermione growled, “Steve Rogers, put me down!” Ignoring her, he stalked off to the elevator, Bucky close beside Steve. A few people glanced their way at Hermione’s shout, but shrugged and returned their attention to the party.
Quickly realizing that struggling was pointless, Hermione rested her chin in her hand, her elbow propping her up on his shoulder. She glared at Bucky, but he never looked at her.
As the elevator door closed behind them, Natasha commented to Pepper, “Hermione did not seem like the type to put up with jealousy, I wonder if the boys are still going to be alive in the morning.”
“I think that will be determined by the quality of the make-up sex,” Pepper smirked. “Bet you $500 we won’t see any of them before 3 o’clock tomorrow.”
“They won’t show up before 7 tomorrow night,” Natasha smirked.
“Extra $500 says that one or both of the boys will be making a trip to a jewelry store Monday,” Pepper smiled, lifting her glass to Natasha.
“I say they’ve already been,” Natasha clinked her glass with Pepper’s.