(no subject)

[primary_asset]

This, he thinks, has to be a decent bachelorette party.

Maybe not for the average bride, maybe other people out there want strippers and sashes that read BRIDE-TO-BE and phallic decorations, but Peggy had made it very clear to John that she wanted none of that.

So he'd rented out a bar. An entire bar. The guest list isn't particularly extensive, they don't need the entire bar, but he'd seen no reason not to do it anyway. It means they have the entire place to themselves, they can control the music, and the bartender has only them to serve. And John has paid a flat fee for the bartender and the serving staff, plus given them a significant tip, so they're attending the party perfectly.

The bar is nice, with comfortable chairs and several pool tables, as well as a well stocked jukebox that he thinks has just about anything someone might think to play. Maybe not Dutch, she probably knows songs none of them have ever heard before, but there's probably plenty on the jukebox she'll still enjoy.

There are appetizers, lots of them, covering just about any option a person could want. The same goes for alcohol.

All in all, for someone not all that inclined toward attending parties, he thinks he's done a fairly good job capturing something Peggy will enjoy. And that's the point of tonight, giving her a party to celebrate her future and everything that's to come with people she enjoys spending time with.

Comments

[womanofvalue]

Peggy had been cautiously optimistic about this whole affair. She didn't think that John would do something that would annoy her into regretting the whole thing, but when she arrives for a sedate and calm affair with alcohol and games of darts and pool, she can feel the relief truly wash over her. She might even let out a sigh of relief.

She's in a casual enough dress that will allow some movement, though she's made sure to put on wedges so that she doesn't make an absolute fool of herself at some point in the evening.

She ducks towards the bar to order herself a drink and praises John mentally one more time for the fact that there isn't a sash or a penis-shaped object in sight. "Certainly an apt choice of best man, I should think," she murmurs to herself.

[primary_asset]

"Maid of honour," John corrects from where he's standing nearby, then smiles as he moves to join Peggy at the bar. He'd seen her come in earlier, but he'd given her a chance to actually view what he'd set up before coming over to say hello, not wanting her to tell him she enjoyed it just because he'd ambushed her without giving her a chance to take it all in. But she seems relieved and there's no scowl in place.

He thinks he's made her happy. Before Darrow, it had been a long while since he'd had cause to do such a thing.

"But I passed the test then," he says, leaning against the bar to order a drink for himself. "Would you have fired me if I'd failed to throw the proper party?"

[womanofvalue]

"I thought perhaps you could have a temporary job change since you did such a lovely job," Peggy says warmly, because she is rather delighted with how everything's turned out. "You absolutely passed the test, I couldn't be happier with the setup."

She turns with her back to the bar so that she can properly watch the lay of the land, not caring if not a soul appears. This is everything she needs. "I wouldn't have fired you, but I think perhaps some mild British disappointment would have been in store."

[red17]

There is an entire bar in front of her and she doesn't have to pay for drinks. It's a perfect party as far as Dutch is concerned. She absolutely grabs a drink as soon as she arrives before wandering in and smiling at those she knows.

She sees a lot of familiar faces here and there and can't help but chat with everyone. Weddings, in her experience, haven't always been happy or completely consensual where she was from so she's glad to know this is an exception to that rule.

That everyone is happy with this union.

[primary_asset]

"Hello," John says softly when he comes to stand by Dutch's side. He tips his glass toward hers, clinking the rims together lightly, before taking a sip. He'd had no doubt Dutch would be here to support Peggy, because like him, he knows there are a limited number of people she would consider herself close to.

"Unlimited alcohol," he says. "I did a good job, right?"

They both know he's not a party person. Even attending most of the parties in Darrow are a stretch for him sometimes, because he tends to be on guard more often than not, but planning a party is a new skill entirely.

[red17]

"Hello, handsome," Dutch says, reaching over to give his arm a squeeze when he's close enough. She clinks her glass with his before taking a few quick gulps.

"You did, indeed," she tells him, looking around and nodding. "I didn't know you had it in you but I am thoroughly impressed. I bet Peggy feels the same way."

[womanofvalue]

Peggy's been drinking steadily enough that she's in the midst of a pleasant haze, which she's positively brimming with by the time she gets to Dutch, holding darts and ready for a new game and challenger. "Come on, then," she says, trying to tug Dutch towards the board with her. "It's my night and I've decided I want a face off to see your skills put to the test."

[red17]

"My skills when it comes to darts?" It's not exactly something she's participated in often. Pree has a dartboard in the Royale, sure, but she'd left that to the drunks and the smelly old men.

"You might actually take me in this. I've never really been in the dart game."

[nothingmorehorrifying]

It's sort of funny. Given the year the couple come from, Wanda had gotten it into her head that the wedding was going to be pretty traditional. Instead, Peggy has elected to have a brides...man? A Gentleman of Honor? Meanwhile, she's occupying the position of Daniel's groomsman and suspects she needs to write a speech in the coming days. Not that she dislikes it. Daniel and Peggy are some of her most dear friends here and she's happy to do and celebrate the wedding in a way that makes them happy.

Besides, the bartender made her a peach sour cocktail that won't affect her but which is sweet and enjoyable to nurse while she mingles.

[ahollowman]

Coming up behind Wanda, Tony lifted a finger to tap her on the opposite shoulder, before leaning down to steal a conspicuous sip of her drink. He'd started with a martini and was now sticking with aviations, light on the maraschino. And whatever Wanda was drinking looked sweet and peachy and definitely intriguing.

"Oh, no. What is that? Very bachelorette party-worthy. I would absolutely get trashed on those at the wedding of someone I hated but was ... socially obligated to appear at. Actually just, bring that over here again."

[nothingmorehorrifying]

"Rude," Wanda says before handing over the glass anyway. She's mostly drinking it to have something in her hand and Tony's right. It is, unfortunately, very much a party drink. The kind that would be dangerous if she were an ordinary human.

"The bartender called it a peach sour. I believe there's both whiskey and bourbon involved." He'll appreciate it more.

[womanofvalue]

Peggy might be a fan of scotch and whiskeys, but whatever Wanda is drinking looks positively delightful and she thinks that perhaps she might have to break from her steady rules to try it. "I'll have one of that," she says to the bartender, taking up the stool beside Wanda to give her a warm smile.

"I haven't made a critical error, have I? It is good?" she prods, hoping that the answer is yes and she's not wasting her drinks on something she'll regret.

[nothingmorehorrifying]

"It's sweet," Wanda says. "Not too sweet, I think. I can't tell you if it's strong or not." Just like Steve and just like her brother, it takes a hell of a lot these days for her to make her feel even buzzed. Even before they'd become enhanced, she and Pietro had spent their high school nights and weekends passing around bottles of clear grain alcohol with friends, building up a rather unfortunate level of tolerance.

"I'm happy for you."

[ahollowman]

Tony Stark was a cheat. It wasn't that he lacked a moral center, particularly, although his didn't always point true north. It wasn't that he was mean-spirited, either. It was just how he was. It was probably genetic.

He was also very good at pool, because he was very good at math, and most of pool, at the end of the day, was all about math. Angles. Force. Everything was fun and games until Tony Stark figured out the friction coefficient in any given situation.

It also helped that his glasses had a heads-up display.

Lifting his hip up, he sat on the edge to make a showy shot, lined up behind his back.

"Eight ball, corner pocket." He called it, and made the shot.

Tony was playing against himself, of course, because Peggy Carter's friends weren't typically easy to hustle. And also because it was nearly as fun, just doing that, as playing against someone else. Half the challenge and half the fun for Tony, as ever, was proving himself right.

[whatpossibilities]

Just as the cue ball was about to smack into the eight ball, the eight ball floated into the air and the cue ball alone sailed into the pocket.

"Playing yourself?" Stephen asked as he wandered over on the opposite side of the table, drink in hand and a faint smile on his face. "This is just sad, Stark."

He reached up, plucking the eight ball from midair with his free hand. Tony looked good. He wished he'd have thought to come here with him, but he wasn't a plus one this time and he'd simply portalled in.

[ahollowman]

"Better than playing with myself. They frown on that in the majority of public establishments."

Tony offered a look of droll irritation. What had the point of that been except to rob him of satisfaction? Maybe that had been the point. He sighed and started working to rack the balls back up.

"For the record, I'm still counting that as a win. I don't make bad calculations. I had that eyeballed and it was going in."

He stared for a little too long, before picking up his drink and taking a very long sip very slowly. He was wondering, in fifty different directions, whether he ought to simply come clean that there was something going on with the two of them, or keep it between them, just a little while longer.

He left it up to Stephen in the end.

"Wow, that outfit looks fantastic on you. I wonder why. You have to tell me the name of your personal shopper."

[womanofvalue]

Lucky for Peggy, she's sober. She doesn't plan to be the whole evening, but she's glad that she is when she comes across Tony because there are some embarrassing situations that she doesn't want to put herself in and one of them so happens to be getting drunk in front of your friends' son.

She settles on the pool table, perching with her drink and tugging the straw towards her, eyeing Tony and the lack of a challenger. "I'm not sure this is much fun, playing by yourself," she notes. "Care for someone to keep you occupied while you win?"

[ahollowman]

"What's not fun about proving yourself right?" Tony asked, playing the egotist, even though Peggy was too canny not to see right through him. It was habit. It was also at least partially in earnest. He liked playing himself almost as much as playing someone else.

He was also a few drinks in, but only enough to feel pliable and, for once, relaxed.

"But I don't mind the company, no. You look good under the drop lights, Peg. Throw a little hazy cigar smoke in and you'd be right out of some hardboiled detective flick. Maybe we'll rent you an old Lincoln Cosmo and tie some cans to it so I can take photos and add hilarious old timey filters to them. "

[whatpossibilities]

Darrow was full of new experiences, including being invited to a bachelorette party. Stephen was glad it didn't involve strippers of any gender, he'd never been the sort of person who'd been comfortable around something like that. This was much nicer, a calm bar, a game of pool, food and drinks. He was glad Peggy got the party she wanted.

Stephen had worn the nicest clothes he had in Darrow, a button-up and slacks, and his oatmeal cable knit cardigan. He ordered an Old Fashioned and wandered over to the jukebox. There were some familiar songs, some he'd never heard of in life, which he assumed meant they were from Darrow or other dimensions entirely.

Finally finding one he liked, he chose Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl (1987). You couldn't go wrong with this one.

[nothingmorehorrifying]

"Are you the bride's side or the groom's side?" Wanda asks with an ironic smile. "I think I might be both. That's not a...What's the word? Euphemism?" She's heard it before but sometimes English is a tricky, impossible liar of a language that makes utterly little sense compared to its European cousins.

"You're looking very restrained," she says, nodding at his outfit. Last time they'd really spoken, he'd been quite well decked out in wizardly splendor.

[whatpossibilities]

Stephen looks over with a smile that turns a little confused by her word usage. He can't decide if she's using the wrong word, or he's just misunderstanding something, so he simply tilts his head to the side and says, "The bride's? I have met her fiance, though."

He looks down at his clothes, smoothing a hand down his shirt. "Well, you know, my other clothes are reserved for sorcerer business," he says with a hint of amusement.

[womanofvalue]

Peggy is rather pleased to see Stephen here, not only because he'd been so handy in disposing of the contraband party material, but because she's come to appreciate his company. In a way, he reminds her a bit of Mr. Jarvis in the steadiness of his approaching situations and the humour that threads within it.

Approaching, she sees him pick a new song, but she's clueless as to what it is when it starts to play. "Is this a popular song choice, where you're from?" she asks curiously, having missed out on catching up on plenty of decades of music.

[whatpossibilities]

Stephen smiles over at Peggy. "It's a classic. Van Morrison, 1967."

He's been waiting until she has a free moment to approach her, so he hopes she doesn't think him rude that he's over at the jukebox when he hasn't even greeted her yet.

"Thank you for inviting me, by the way. This is very nice, just like you described. My first bachelorette party," he says with a grin. Men at a bachelorette party is more modern than even his time, so he's a little impressed.

[lord_of_thunder]

At some level, the marriage traditions of Midgardians who lived in the West had not changed all that much. Oh, there seemed to be more of choice in the matter than there may have been before, but the traditions themselves? Many of them seemed to have hung on.

A feast or celebration for the bride before her marriage day? Oh, that one he was familiar with. There were variations of it across worlds as well as across time. With as long as his people lived, Thor had attended more of these celebrations outside of Asgard than among the warriors and artisans of his home. They were (without exception) always a good time.

Even that time he was the bride and it had ended in mass murder.

Thor drinks deeply from his glass and beams out at the party, relaxed as anything in his Midgardian clothes.

[womanofvalue]

Peggy beams when she sees Thor there, because she knows that even a calm party could use someone to lift the mood and with him there, she doesn't doubt that will happen. She leans over to buy a beer so that she can bring it over to Thor, giving him a grateful smile. "I didn't actually expect you to come," she admits, handing the glass over.

"I am glad you did, though," she shares. "Have you often gone to bachelorette parties, where you come from?"