#roguecaptain

Bit by bit the gang had dwindled down until there would’ve been next to no one at Tony Stark’s Very Big, Overly Loud Holiday Extravaganza. Tony hadn’t wanted that, and so, for whatever reason, he had made the decision to invite the X-men to his party, too. Which was perfectly fine by Steve – he was even pretty sure Thor was somewhere soothing his post-breakup-woes with Ororo – but it didn’t make much of a difference to him. Logan, the obvious man for him to have at least a couple of those “shared life experiences” with, wasn’t much of a talker, and so he still ended up at the bar, letting Remy push drink after drink into his hand.

He was pretty sure the mutant was trying to play the “let’s see if we can prove science wrong and make the super-soldier drunk” game. Right now he was more then willing to go along with it, even if he already knew what the result would be. Unless Remy had Asgardian mead tucked away somewhere, Steve wasn’t getting drunk tonight, which was too bad, because it was pretty clear that he wasn’t going to have any company worth staying sober for… or even getting drunk with, for that matter.

He turned a sigh into a huff, downing whatever drink Remy had last put in his hand and wondering for the fourth time if he should try to go make conversation with somebody.

Conversation came to him first, though, sliding onto the barstool beside him and doing grabby hands at Remy. The Cajun chuckled, handling her a bottle of beer as he said, “It can’t be that bad, cher.”

The woman glared at him. “Isn’t Hill around here somewhere? You should go flirt with her.”

“She’ll cut off all my most important parts if I do that!” Remy said, and gave the woman – Rogue, Steve’s brain supplied when he got around to noticing the white streak in her hair – his best smile.

Whatever attempt the makeshift bartender was making to cheer Rogue up wasn’t working, and she kept right on glaring at him as she said, “Shut up, or I might, too.”

Remy’s eyes widened, and he disappeared down to the far end of the bar. Steve, too, turned away and sipped at his drink.

Rogue sighed, rolling the beer between her hands as she asked, “Too much?”

Halfway surprised that she was talking to him after she’d been so short with her teammate, Steve considered it for a second before he answered, “Well, it is Gambit, so maybe not. I’ve get the feeling it’s best to be direct with him.”

For whatever reason, she cracked at least half a smile at that. “You’re not wrong. I’m Marie, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever officially met.”

Meeting her pretty brown eyes, he smiled politely. “I’m Steve.”

She raised her beer to him in a sort of toast, and they both drank, but now he was curious. Nearly against his better judgement, he asked coaxingly, “How are you?”

“Me?” she smiled halfheartedly at the question. “I’m fine. You?”

Steve turned on the stool enough so that he could get a glimpse of the people who were in a much more festive spirit behind them. “I think right about now I need one of those hugs that turns into sex.”

Marie raised her eyebrows at that, turning to look at the other partygoers as well. “That does seem to be the theme of the day, doesn’t it? I would gladly offer to assist you with that, except, as I’m sure you know… touching… me…”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “I’ve heard. I wasn’t really being… too serious, anyway.”

She smiled crookedly at him, like she knew what he was really thinking in any case. “You’re here by yourself?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Right there along with you.”

“In that case,” Steve asked. “You wanna sit here, talk, drink, and be lonely Scrooges together?”

Marie kept on smiling, and Steve decided it was a pretty smile. Made her eyes light up a little even if she hadn’t been terribly thrilled when she’d walked over here. “I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

Leia Organa had two moms.

Full stop.

Padme Amidala was Leia’s valid mother, but let’s realize that Breha also was as well.

Meaning that yes while Leia is Anakin’s daughter in the anger and Padme’s daughter in the grace and political prowess, she has so much of Breha in her, too.

The compassion, the willingness and eagerness to do what’s right, and yes, the take-no-shit--that is Breha as well.