It wasn't that Steve had never expected it would happen, it was just that he didn't imagine it playing out quite like this.

For one thing, he had never thought that he would die while wearing a tuxedo at a charity gala for helping children in war ravaged countries in the Middle East. No, he had always pictured that he'd go out in the heat of battle - not necessarily with a heroic sacrifice or anything as drastic as that, just... one day he'd take one too many hits, or get shot by the wrong bullet. Maybe he'd die surrounded by his teammates - his friends - or perhaps death would be instantaneous. At the very least he'd be wearing a variation of his military gear.

For another thing, Steve had never considered that the cause of his death would simply be that he couldn't move in order to save himself from an assassin. He didn't know what she had drugged him with, but it must have been something strong for it to have not been burned up by his enhanced metabolism. Fortunately, he could tell that the serum in his blood was fighting the paralytic, because Steve's body was beginning to overcome the extreme lethargy that had assaulted his limbs. Unfortunately, Steve could also see that it wouldn't be in time to stop his rapidly approaching, would-be assassin from killing him with a...

A pocketknife... Oh, the irony.

Steve just added it the already unfortunately long list of regrets he had cultivated about this particular evening. To be fair, it had mostly been filled with things such as not eating before arriving, since it turned out that the only food being served were canapés that were both unsatisfying in their ability to sate his hunger and much too fancy for him to fully appreciate. He'd rather have a burger any day. Steve had also severely regretted his decision to not follow Tony's advice when the man had recommended that he bring a date (any date; seriously, bring a goddamn agent if you have to) citing that he would definitely regret it if he didn't. Steve had just smiled and assured the billionaire that he'd be fine without a date, to which Tony looked doubtfully at him, shrugged and replied, "Your funeral. If you don't want to take advice from the man who's attended just about every one of these sorts of things since he was a kid, then that's your choice. Live 'n learn."

"You're not going with anyone," Steve had pointed out. Tony just smirked.

"Yeah, but I know how to handle myself. I have experience. You, though," Tony had looked him up and down with an unimpressed air, "are an attractive, muscular, blonde war hero and living legend. Not to mention you're well-mannered, shy, traditionally courteous and positively adorable.They'll be all over you like sharks smelling blood in the water. You'll be eaten alive if you don't have a shield, and I'm afraid you're usual one doesn't fit the dress code. You really need a date to substitute, someone who won't make you want to off yourself after a few hours in their company."

"Tony, trust me, I'll be fine. I'm used to the dancing monkey routine. Besides, I doubt it will be that bad."

But, oh, it was bad. Steve had lasted the first 10 minutes before admitting to himself that he should've listened to Tony. He'd never let Tony know that of course, although... he suspected that the other man was perfectly aware of his thoughts, judging by the smirks the genius had been sending across the room to him whenever he was accosted by politicians wishing to try and gain his support or discuss 'what a legend' he was, or when he was practically corralled into dancing by women of all ages and various degrees of availability.

Five and a half months ago, Steve never would have imagined that he'd have made a friend out of Tony Stark. Their relationship had had a very rocky start in the hours before what the media had dubbed 'The Battle of New York', but Steve had admitted to himself that he was mostly at fault. He had been desperate to see Howard in Tony, but he was angry both because they were so similar in some ways, and so different in others. And Steve wasn't just referring to their physical differences. He knew now that Tony had a complicated relationship with his father. They didn't get on and Tony had blamed Howard for dying and taking his mother with him, but he also knew that Tony still loved him. Steve had also found out the hard way that comparing Tony to Howard, no matter what form, only angered the billionaire to the point that he would lash out in defence against the perceived slight - something that never ended well for Steve. In fact, the only thing that was worse than being on the receiving end of Tony's ire and sharp jabs, was facing his silence - his true fury - and being blocked out entirely. That had only happened once, thank God, and it was an experience that Steve wasn't in a hurry to repeat, especially when he had the rest of the team staring at him judgementally until he had fixed things.

But they had come a long way in the months since the invasion, and Steve was proud to call Tony his friend. They had managed to find a balance that worked well for them, in the field and off of it. Steve was still the leader on paper, and he made most of the more generalised calls, such as where his teammates were positioned at the start of a battle, but he always made sure to listen to the opinions of his teammates on subjects, and delegated the responsibility of decisions whenever he didn't fully understand the situation. He worked very well with Tony in this way, as the genius was a better tactical thinker than Steve had given him credit for, and whose ability to see the situation, analyse the variables and think outside the box to come up with multiple courses of action in the span of a few seconds made him excellent at making the plans. He was the one who in-battle questions were directed to and whenever he came up with a plan there was no hesitation in the rest of them to follow it, to trust it.

Just five months of working and living together had turned the Avengers into a cohesive unit built on trust, one that every member of the team would be willing to die for. So when they had each received an invitation to attend the gala, Steve had agreed to attend with Tony, who was one of the main beneficiaries, and cover for the rest of the team who were all either busy or away.

Two and a half hours into the gala, which had been filled with stuffy ladies grasping for his attention and dreary, pompous men vying for his political favour, and Steve had had begun to feel a little sluggish. He had only eaten a few canapés and had a few glasses of wine in between being dragged off by different people, but the rapidly encroaching lethargy in his limbs made him wonder if he had been drugged. Steve barely had time to brace against a wall on the edge of the ballroom, his movements drowsy, before he collapsed against it, unable to move at all for a few moments. He recovered just enough to brace his back against the wall and look out to ensure that he wouldn't be taken by surprise by whoever had drugged him. Steve's movements were still far too slow to be able to defend himself if that became necessary, and he was having difficulty trying to call for help.

No one seemed to have noticed his collapse, which was ironic considering how hard pressed he had been to find a moment of solitude the entire evening, and Steve wasn't sure whether he should feel relieved or irritated that no one had come to his aid. One of the patrons should have noticed his distress by now, but at least he couldn't see any potential attackers approaching-

One of the prettier women Steve had been dancing with earlier was making a beeline towards him. She had enchanting, brown, doe eyes and beautiful, glossy, dark hair done up in a pretty style that was half up, half down. Her lipstick matched her dress, which was a deep, rose red and elegant, with a wide skirt that swished pleasantly when she twirled and that reached just below her knees, revealing pair of black, thin-strapped dance shoes. Steve remembered that she had been an excellent dancer with a politely teasing demeanour that he had experienced many times throughout that night, although he had found it more attractive coming from her. Something about the confident smirk she directed at him as she approached in a direct manner, made Steve feel like an insect that had been caught in a Venus flytrap. He was starting to panic when he first caught the silver glint of the pocketknife she was holding in the frills of her dress as she approached, a snake that had already bitten its prey finally going in for the kill.

Just when Steve was beginning to imagine how he would tell Howard - when he met him in heaven - that he was, in fact, killed with a pocketknife,his vision was suddenly filled with the back of a man wearing an expensive suit - Tony. He barely had time to take in the fact that Tony - unarmed, unarmoured, unprotected, unsafe Tony - had somehow noticed his plight and come between him and the threat, before one of the ladies apparently noticed what was happening and let out a scream, drawing the attention of all the attendees, who quickly cleared the area around Steve, Tony and the brunet, who looked annoyed at being discovered, but not worried.

"Well, shit. This was not how I was expecting my night to go," Tony said, the rest of the room dead silent. "Hey Cap, maybe you should have brought your shield after all."

Steve managed to get a few words out. "Tony... go. I can... handle this..."

The other man didn't even look at him, just responded in a voice heavily laced with the scepticism he clearly felt at that statement, not that Steve could blame him, "Uh-huh, sure. Will that be after you're able to stand without the wall, or when you can complete a sentence?"

"Tony-"

"Hush now, Steve. Let papa handle this." Tony still hadn't taken his eyes off the woman (Steve thought her name started with an 'A'. Amy? Audrey? Alice?) and he began addressing her next, "I don't tend to take kindly to people who drug and attempt to murder my friends, so how about you just drop the knife and then you can explain to us why you're trying to kill a national treasure, Ms-?"

"Alissa, Mr Stark," the woman answered in an unwavering, sultry voice. The teasing quality it had possessed earlier was once again present, but it had taken on a much crueller edge. "And I think I'm just fine with how things are currently proceeding."

Although Steve couldn't see the billionaire's face, he could actually hear the smirk in Tony's voice, "I'm sure you are, Alison - yes, I know who you are." Steve was the woman stiffen in shock for a moment, upon hearing the name, before recovering, although with considerably less confidence than before. "Given your skillset, I believe you know that you could take down just about anyone in this room who challenges you, except your target. That's why you had to incapacitate him before making your move. Since no one from the security detail has come bursting in, I assume that you also drugged them?"

Alissa/Alison replied to the enquiry with an alluring smile. "Very good, Mr Stark. It seems that you're not just a genius in tech after all. But I'm afraid that won't do you much good, since you're unarmed and without the Iron Man suit and I am a professional. My contract doesn't mention you or anyone else, so if you step aside now, I won't have to kill you."

"Yeah, that's not happening," Tony replied with an ease that had Steve worrying that the other man was about to do something stupid. Sure enough... "You're pretty good, but this was B-list at best. I mean, I know you're real name and where you live already. It didn't take J too long to track that once I recognised you. No, I'm more curious about your employer in this case. I mean, what kind of sick, twisted person orders a hit on the apple pie poster boy? Who would even take that contract?! An overconfident, predictable and amateurish hussy, who is completely desperate for either money or a bolster to her meagre reputation." Steve heard many of the bystanders gasp at Tony's assessment of Alison, and could see many of them turn to stare at the woman, waiting to see how she would react. Steve was able to see her face now, he saw the way her eyes hardened and her smile sharpened, and he began cursing Tony in his mind for further angering the assassin.

"You know, I've changed my mind. I rather think I will kill you, after all," Alison said after a pause, her voice still kept the light tone, but it had lost the flirty manner. "But if I'm not a threat, how come I'm the one who's armed and all you can do is talk? Can the great Tony Stark not take on a woman in a dress and high heels, armed only with a knife?"

Tony snorted at her mocking tone. "As soon as I make a move, you'll pull out that gun hidden under your dress- oh please, it was pretty obvious. You're not as subtle as you like to think," the billionaire responded to the surprised look Alison sent him. "'Sides, I like how much I'm finding out at the moment. For instance, you don't know who your employer is, do you?"

Alison looked shocked. "How-?"

"You used a drug that worked well enough to take down someone with the super serum. I know how Cap's metabolism works - the poor guy can't even get drunk! There are only a few people on the planet who could find a way around that - and you're looking at one of them. If someone had figured out how to counteract Cap's metabolism and had been selling it or giving it out , we would've come across it before now. So that means you're the first person they've given it too, so they had to have been the one who hired you, or at least closely affiliated with the one who did. Whoever hired you wasn't stupid enough to let you know their identity. But if they've hired a broker, that puts up the cost of the hit exponentially so, meaning they're either loaded, or they have a company at their back. Hell, they could even be an organisation in general, rather than one person. But whoever they are, they're new to us, and given the quality of the drug, I'm going to assume you aren't the best they can - or will - be throwing at us in the future."

Alison levelled a menacing glare as the stupid genius finished his calm explanation of what he had gathered about whoever had ordered the hit on Steve. The rest of the rooms occupants, including Steve himself, were staring, impressed, at the man who had just dissected one tiny detail about the murder attempt, and had uncovered a wealth of clues about who they would need to look for - if they got out of this alive.

"It seems I underestimated you, Mr Stark," Alison snarled at the brunet, her composure finally falling away to rage.

Tony just smirked in that patronising, cocky way of his that made people he really didn't like feel like idiots. It also had the side affect of filling them with the desire to punch it off his face. "Well, now you know for next time, Ally."

But 'Ally' was truly incited now, and gave a dark, ugly laugh. "Oh, there won't be a next time."

Steve watched in horror as, as soon as she had finished speaking, Alison lunged at Tony, pocketknife slashing, in quick, confident movements that should have been impossible with the ballroom dance shoes she was still wearing. The gala's patrons scrambled to get out of the way, and there were a few screams at Alison's sudden, unexpected movement. Luckily, Tony seemed to have anticipated the attack, as he swiftly sidestepped the knife and moved into a defensive melee stance that Steve hadn't even know him capable of.

Since Tony had deftly avoided the knife, he was no longer standing between Steve and his would-be assassin, but thankfully Alison was too angry and focused on killing Tony to notice that her original target was unprotected only a few steps away from her. It seemed that Tony's manoeuvre had only served to incense the assassin further, as she spun, in an almost feral state, to catch her quarry, who was leading her away from Steve and the other guests who were huddled together by the wall, watching the fight play out with wide, frightened eyes.

Steve noted with some relief that the drug he had been given seemed to be wearing off. He found that he was - thankfully - able to stand upright now, although his limbs were a little shaky and he wouldn't be able to keep up in the fight that the two brunets were engaged in. Well, it was mostly Tony avoiding woman and her knife, but he would go on the offensive every time she seemed to be reaching for something - Steve remembered what Tony had said about a hidden gun earlier and he was grateful that the other man had noticed that crucial detail. He had to say that Tony was fairing better than he had expected, considering that the man usually only fought within the suit - although he had learned that Tony had taken self defence classes. He hadn't realised that the genius was skilled enough to last against an assassin, however.

'Maybe he should start joining us in our sparring sessions,' Steve thought absently, imagining what the Avengers' bi-weekly sparring routines would look like with Tony added to the mix. However, just because Tony was better than expected, didn't mean that he would be able to beat Alison, especially since he was unarmed. Eventually he would tire out, or Alison would get a hit in with the knife, or she'd finally manage to draw her gun, and that would be the end of it. Steve fervently hoped he would recover soon enough to stop that from happening.

The two of them had slowly but steadily crossed the room as they were fighting, Alison following Tony as he retreated in the direction of the five stairs that went to a dais, lined with pillars, that lead to a small, lobby-like entry and a pair of glass doors - the exit. Steve couldn't tell if Tony was heading that way on purpose or if he was simply trying to keep away from the assassin, but he soon found himself moving as quickly as he could over to help his friend. Neither of them seemed to notice him as he approached, and he was only about 6 metres away when he saw Tony about to walk into the first step.

"Tony! The stairs!" he shouted in warning, and the other man curved his direction at the last moment, pivoting but so that he didn't stop facing his opponent. Alison, who had just launched herself at Tony once again, recovered quickly by moving to the top of the stairs and swiftly pulling out her trim little pistol before anyone could stop her. Tony and Steve both froze as she aimed the pistol at the man who had caused her so much trouble that evening, and behind them Steve could make out one of the civilian's wail of despair. Alison had a triumphant gleam in her - somewhat maddened - eyes, but all Steve could think of was how he would be able to tell Pepper and Bruce that the love of their life and best friend, respectively, had been murdered for defending him. Steve watched, anger and despair warring within him, as Alison opened her mouth, most likely to make a mocking quip before she pulled the trigger on one of the few friends Steve had, and-

Clang!

-her eyes rolled up in the back of her head and she fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

Silence.

"Finally! Hey, Hap, thanks for the save, but what the hell took you so long?" Tony's unsurprised exclamation had Steve blinking in bewilderment as Happy Hogan, Tony's bodyguard and friend, stepped out from behind one of the pillars, a silver serving tray hanging comfortably in his grip by his side after he had used it to smack Alison in the back of the head, taking the assassin off guard and knocking her unconscious.

Happy glared at Tony as he replied, "I was getting coffee across the road." The man's tone turned flat and severely unimpressed. "And what the hell were you doing?! Getting into a fight with an assassin!? Can't I ever go to one of these damn parties without having to worry about you getting killed?! Why are you so determined to be murdered?! Seriously! Even when it's not you they come after, you somehow manage to end up being the one with a gun aimed at you!"

"Aw, I knew you loved me!" Happy glared at his employer again, but Steve could see relief in his expression and his anger seemed to have died down as his panic left him.

Happy ignored the glib response in favour of giving his boss another order, "Just don't do anything so stupid again."

This time, Tony gave a small, genuine smile to accompany an honest answer, "I'll try, Happy."

Happy huffed, "Somehow, I doubt that'll do much good."

"You're probably right."

Tony turned to Steve then, as Happy began securing the unconscious assassin.

"You alright, Cap? That drug hasn't had any permanent effects, has it?"

"No, I'm fine," Steve reassured the other man. And he was. "Hey, thanks."

Tony gave a small smile. "Hey, don't worry about it. I was getting bored anyway. Maybe more of these galas should end with a semi-decent assassination attempt - uh, don't tell Happy I said that."

Steve quirked a small. "I have to agree with you there. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. And 'semi-decent'? I thought you said she was an 'overconfident, predictable, amateurish hussy'"

Tony barked a surprised laugh, "Naw, I just said that to rile her up. She had a good plan, but she let her emotions cloud her judgement. Rule one of business and assassination; 'never let things get personal'."

Steve smiled as the genius who had just saved his life - by standing between him and an assassin with a blade - went into a tangent of what had made Alison a competent assassin and what had made her unprofessional, apparently oblivious to the way his voice carried and Happy's glares as he heard some of how his boss had antagonised the assassin after coming between her and her target. Steve was just glad that he had decided to get to know Tony as someone other than a snarky billionaire in a metal suit, or just 'Howard's son'. He was also determined that when he did finally die, he wouldn't be killed by a blasted pocketknife.