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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.

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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.

"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?"

"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."

John had dealt with Finch's mild and quiet disappointment well enough -- and completely ignored it, too -- so he thinks he could have dealt with British disappointment if he'd deserved it. Once he has his fresh drink in hand, he turns to lean beside Peggy, watching the people she'd wanted to attend. They're an eclectic group, which isn't terribly surprising.

"I'm glad you're pleased," he says easily. "But now I want to know if you're going to beat me at a game of pool."

Pool is one of those things John is good at because of his father, but he's willing to bet there's a good chance Peggy is better. She's exceptionally good at a number of things he wouldn't necessarily have expected and he'd like to play a game with her, see how well they may be matched.

Peggy can't help her rueful laugh as she looks to the tables. "I wish that I could pretend to be terrible and then hustle you, but I'm afraid I didn't spend much of my time with pool," she confesses. "Now, if we're talking about a game of darts, I'm far more adept."

She had been a sharpshooter to help with the work of the regiments, so she thinks her aim is better than her ability with a cue. "We'll have to play at some point tonight and loser will drink the rest of their glass, I imagine?"

"Darts and pool," John says. "We can do both. The night is young, isn't it?"

He's not sure if he'll be any good at darts. His aim is very good, but he's never really devoted much time to darts and he knows there's more to it than just having good aim.

It's a bar game, at least where he's from, and he thinks that alone ought to be a reason for him to know it well. As a young man, he'd spent too much time in bars. Far too much.

"This seems like I'm doing it wrong if this is meant to be some sort of churlish attempt at flaunting my freedom, but the truth is that with Daniel, he's quite approving of most of my madcap adventuring," she admits with a happy smile.

"I suppose that's how you know you're with the right person. There's no dread," she admits, wandering over to fetch some darts. "There's only excitement about what's to come for us. Did you feel like that? Before?"

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.

"Before what?" John asks. "I've never been married."

He'd wanted to marry Jessica, he'd had every intention of asking her, but then the Towers had come down and his entire life had shifted. Leaving the CIA had been impossible for him after seeing that, after knowing how the world was going to change.

And he's considered it here in Darrow, wondered if it's something Karen might want, but for now he's content to simply live with her. That alone had been a big step for him, a significant change to how he's always lived, sharing his personal space with someone.

Edited 2018-09-08 14:52 (UTC)

"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.

"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."

"Not marriage," Peggy says, because she hadn't meant it quite so firmly. She's not sure how to put it, though. "Before diving in completely with one person," she says, wondering if that helps to clarify it in the way she means. "When you're sure and you want to settle everything with them."

"With Fred, it was all doubts and dread. With Steve, I never even got the chance," she admits, gripping the darts tighter. "I grieved for him for so long, I have to admit I didn't even notice Daniel at the start," she tells John.

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.

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.

Edited 2018-09-08 23:01 (UTC)

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.

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."

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.

"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.

"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.

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.

Tony takes the glass and switches it out for his aviation, sliding it into Wanda's hand.

"Whiskey and bourbon? A drink after my own heart." He sipped it in earnest, before nodding Wanda's attention toward Peggy.

"She got what she wanted. I'm unsurprised. I'm ... happier for her than I thought I could be about someone else's wedding. And I'm not half wasted yet, so it must be earnest."

Edited 2018-09-10 03:08 (UTC)

"I hope so," he says. "Anyway, I think I'm the lucky one. I wouldn't have been able to plan the stereotypical bachelorette party."

He's not sure if even Karen could have helped him with that. Maybe, given the box of gifts she'd been sent that day he found her sitting in the cafe, it's this Tony who would have been the right one to take on that job. This is more pleasant, though. This is the sort of thing he thinks everyone is comfortable with.

"I might have had to put you in charge of hiring the strippers," he adds with a little smile.

Edited 2018-09-10 15:02 (UTC)

John isn't sure he does want to settle everything. With anyone. He loves Karen and he wants to be with her and he is in the relationship with as much of himself as he can be, but there will alway be parts of them both, he thinks, that will belong somewhere else. If he were to say as much to Karen, he thinks she would agree.

"I don't know if I would call it excitement," he says. But he and Karen aren't looking forward to a marriage, a wedding, at least not yet. He doesn't know if he's ever had the same experience Peggy is talking about.

"Contentment," he decides. "Which is more than I've ever had before."

"And what makes you think I'd be good at hiring strippers?" Dutch asks, keeping a straight face for about five seconds before breaking into a grin.

"You don't need to answer that, I know where my talents lie," Dutch says with a laugh. "But, I think renting out an entire bar is a good trade off for strippers."

She smiles at him and takes a sip of her drink. "You think you'll ever get married?"

"You do seem like a man prone to action," Peggy quips, which isn't to tease and make him feel bad, but she has noticed, of course. In fact, she likes it. The sheer delight of having someone that she knows will keep her life interesting in personal matters with Daniel and professional with John is a relief to her.

"Speaking of excitement, though," she says, throwing her first dart. "I don't intend to stop working with you just because I get married."

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