Natasha and Wanda were drunk. They dragged Gwen out to celebrate, and she was the one still sober, not feeling much like celebrating.

The man on stage was down to a pair of tiny, tight shorts that left little to the imagination, especially when he teased pulling them down to reveal an ass cheek.

The women went wild. Wanda and Natasha were on their feet, whooping and making lewd gestures with their hips. The stripper seemed to encourage it, so she let them go.

When the man left the stage they sat down, laughing and fanning themselves.

"Man," Wanda said, "each one is hotter than the last."

"Really," Gwen said, "don't know how you can tell through those beer goggles."

"Why are you being such a party pooper? You should be celebrating."

"I still don't see how divorce is something to celebrate."

"When it's from a man like Robert," Natasha said, "it's worth celebrating. I mean, how long did he drag the divorce out?"

"Two years."

"Two years! And you haven't been with a man since before you separated. This," she waved her hand around the room, "starts making up for that. We have to get you reacquainted with the male form."

Gwen laughed, but shook her head. "But it's still a divorce. My marriage failed."

"Because of him," Wanda said. "You fought to keep things together. He didn't."

The stage lights picked up again, and the ladies screamed. A man in a camouflage uniform came out and stood ramrod straight, hands at his sides. When the music started, a slow, sensual rhythm, he rolled his hips and tugged the hat low over his eyes.

For the first time that night, Gwen's eyes were glued to the stage. She did have a thing for military uniforms.

The man dropped to his knees then ground his hips into the floor before ripping the uniform open to reveal a rock hard chest and abs. Natasha and Wanda were back on their feet, but Gwen just sat and stared. She caught a glimpse of crystal blue beneath the low hat, and hair long enough that it wasn't to military standards. Not that it mattered, because the uniform was soon gone, and he was in the tiny, tight shorts.

He wasn't as flirtatious as the other dancers had been. He came out, did his thing, and was gone.

Natasha grinned at Gwen. "Finally found one to drool over, huh?"

"What?"

"Oh, come on. Your tongue was practically hanging out of your mouth."

"Was not."

"Yeah, ok."

She waved a waiter over and whispered in his ear. Gwen got nervous when she saw Natasha point toward her.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Bull shit. What did you just do?"

Natasha just grinned and sipped her drink.

"Nat, I'm not joking, what—"

A large hand took Gwen's and pulled her from her chair. She was tugged into a solid chest and bright blue eyes stared back at her. Without his hat, she could see every detail of his face. He was gorgeous, wearing jeans and a grey tee.

"Umm... hi," she whispered.

"Are you my private dance?"

"Am I... What? No."

"Yes." Natasha said. "She is. Show her a good time. She needs it."

He nodded and gave Gwen's hand a light squeeze before pulling her into a private room. The door shut and Gwen panicked.

"Look, I'm not... this isn't... my friends did this and—"

"Relax. This is your show. I won't do anything you don't want. Ok?"

Gwen took a breath and nodded. "Thing is, I don't know what to... I mean, I've never..."

"Did you like my show on stage?"

Gwen nodded.

"I can just do that here."

He gently guided her by the arm to the small sofa, and she sat.

He rolled his hips and hooked his thumb into the hem of his shirt, lifting it a little. His eyes were locked on hers. He pulled the shirt higher, and Gwen stood.

"I'm sorry. I can't... this just feels too intimate."

He fixed his shirt and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Hey, it's ok."

"I'm sorry. My friends just—"

"Stop apologizing." He motioned back to the sofa. "Have a seat."

"I should go."

"Your friend paid for fifteen minutes. If you don't mind staying, I could use the break."

"Oh. Ok, I guess that won't hurt. Not really looking forward to seeing her right now, anyway."

Gwen sat. When he sat next to her she stiffened.

"I don't bite, you know. Strict policy."

"Sorry."

"What's your name?"

"Gwen."

He extended his hand. "Bucky."

"Bucky? Is that, like, your stripper name?"

He laughed, "No. my middle name is Buchanan, and people have always just called me Bucky for short."

"Wow... if that's what you go by then your first name must be awful."

"Whoa, now." He smiled.

"Sorry. That sounded way worse than I meant it to."

He waved the comment off. "My name is James."

"Which do you prefer?"

He shrugged. "I like Bucky."

"All right, then. Bucky it is."

He sank into the sofa with his arm stretched out across the back.

"Your friends made you come here tonight, right?"

She smiled. "Is it that obvious?"

"I saw you a couple of times in the crowd while the others were on stage. You looked uninterested."

"Yeah. We're supposed to be celebrating, but I'm not really—. You know... you don't want to hear this."

"No, go ahead. What were you going to say?"

Gwen stared at him a moment. "My divorce was finalized today, after my ass of an ex-husband dragged it out for two years."

"Whoa, why'd he do that?"

"Because he wanted to hurt me, and he had a prenup saying if I cheated while married I get nothing. He wanted me to get worn down and start dating again before we divorced."

"Guy sounds like a real jerk."

"He is."

"Then your friends are right. You should be celebrating."

"My marriage still failed. It's just... I always dreamed that I'd get married once, forever. You know? I guess everyone does. I don't want to be married to him anymore. Not after everything he's done. Still hurts."

"Then why are you here?"

"My friends. Since I cut myself off from men for two years they decided to plop me right in the middle of... Well..." She motioned to Bucky as an example.

"Wait. You really haven't been with a guy in two years?"

"Nope. I wasn't going to let him win."

Bucky smiled. "Good for you." He checked his watch. "We've got about five minutes left. You sure you don't want a show?"

She shook her head. "I just feel awkward having a stranger do that just for me."

"I'm not a stranger anymore. I'm Bucky."

"James Buchanan."

"Exactly. You know my middle name. Who knows the middle name of a stranger?"

Gwen laughed.

"Here."

Bucky took her hand and put her standing against the wall.

"Two years is a long time to go without attention," he said.

He pressed himself against her and rolled his hips. Gwen took in a sharp breath and bit her lip. He did a few moves from his stage routine, never letting their bodies separate, and never taking his eyes from hers, but he stayed fully clothed.

His nose ran along her neck and jaw, and Gwen thought he might actually kiss her a few times. The thought excited her, but scared her, and she stayed stiff against the wall. His hair fell into his face, and she had an overwhelming urge to brush it from his eyes, but she kept her hands at her sides.

He stood straight and towered over her.

"Time's up."

Gwen cleared her throat. "Thanks."

"My pleasure."

The world slipped into slow motion as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Congratulations on your freedom."

"Thanks."

He stepped back, and she rushed to the door.

"By the way," he said, "kisses aren't really allowed, so if you could keep that to yourself..."

"Oh... yeah, sure."

He smiled at her and slipped out of a door at the back of the small room. She collected herself and let out a puff of air before she went back to her friends.

"How was it?" Wanda asked.

"Weird."

"I know you thought he was hot," Natasha said.

"He's very hot, but don't ever do that to me again." Gwen glanced around the room and saw Bucky talking to a woman at another table. "Can we go?"

"Yeah, ok. We can go."

Gwen made sure Wanda and Natasha got home safe, then she got ready for bed. Every time she closed her eyes she saw his face. As she drifted off she could swear she felt his body pressed against hers, grinding into her.