Masterlist - Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures
Plot summary :An Agent assigned to work with the Avengers is exposed to a new Hydra neuro-toxin and needs intimate assistance, but who should help them? This is my take on the sex pollen trope.
Choose your favourite - Thor or Steve : There are two options shown below, the reader gets to choose whether Thor or Steve will be the one to offer NSFW assistance.
Note : The two Times stories are very similar but the two versions of Measures are almost completely different, because let’s face it Thor and Steve will have a different approach to sex!
Desperate Times is the build-up to the story with sexual tension and some dirty talk, whilst Desperate Measures has all the really filthy smut. They can be read as stand-alone fics but are better read together.
Warnings - NSFW, 18+ only, smut, more smut, swearing, sex pollen so sort of dub-con
Masterlist - Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures
Plot summary :An Agent assigned to work with the Avengers is exposed to a new Hydra neuro-toxin and needs intimate assistance, but who should help them? This is my take on the sex pollen trope.
Choose your favourite - Thor or Steve : There are two options shown below, the reader gets to choose whether Thor or Steve will be the one to offer NSFW assistance.
Note : The two Times stories are very similar but the two versions of Measures are almost completely different, because let’s face it Thor and Steve will have a different approach to sex!
Desperate Times is the build-up to the story with sexual tension and some dirty talk, whilst Desperate Measures has all the really filthy smut. They can be read as stand-alone fics but are better read together.
Warnings - NSFW, 18+ only, smut, more smut, swearing, sex pollen so sort of dub-con
So, since it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything, I knew now that my masterlist wasn’t working. And since I changed the name of the blog, it was kind of expected (if you got here when it was all bush and desert, you’re a veteran and I love you as part of my family).
So I basically had to relearn how to update my blog again and update my masterlist and link to every fanfic ever posted, because apparently tumblr doesn’t do this job alone.
So here they are. Duly updated and functional. I have a separate list for Diana Prince because at the time I got a lot of requests for her, so..
I also intend to update the fanfics and change the name of the reader (yes, I use a name, because Y/N hits a visual nerve of mine, besides not being practical for people who use screen reader). At the time I chose the name Angel, it had to do with the blog name and because, you know, angels are neutral and have no gender or race and I thought that way I would be including everyone and not offending anyone. However, Angel seems to be a common name in the US (in my country it’s used as a pet/nick name, like ‘honey’). I’m probably going to use a name making it up (like Atara) and I don’t know, you guys can make a petition too, I don’t know. Let me know what to do to make you happy.
in case you don’t know this is set up in the same universe as my Should’ve Known series if you want to check it out before reading further the links are right under this paragraph.
You don’t quite remember waking up, you just remember feeling warm and hearing your wifes soft breathing next to you and the sounds of rain outside.
You opened your eyes and the first thing you saw was the rain gently decending on your window.
It was peaceful, you looked at the clock and saw it was only eight in the morning. You know you probably would’ve gotten up sooner had it not been for the twins being away at Nick’s for the weekend which was a small blessing. You rarely had moments like theses with Wanda, where there wasn’t any particular rush or set schedule for the day. It was sunday and sundays was usually a break day for everyone. Wanda didn’t go studying and you guys can spend the day together doing whatever.
You gently turn only to see your wife still sleeping. Moments like these were even rarer. Wanda usually is the first one up in the mornings, however, when she sleeps she sleeps like an angel. Her features were peaceful, which once again was rare but was becoming more common now that you guys had no more battles to fight.
Those days were finally over and this was your reward.
You gently kiss her forehead, hoping not to wake her and you carefully unwound the sheets from yourself. Your feet pad gently to the kitchen where you began breakfast.
You put the kettle on to boil while you got the tea packets ready and got to making breakfast. You remember this Sokovian breakfast that Wanda taught you and decided to make it. It was a relatively simple recipe, it was essentially pancakes just a little thicker than a crepe.
—
Wanda woke up to the smell of fluffy pancakes in the air. the warm and sweet scent reminded her of mornings when she and Pietro were young. Either her mother or father in the kitchen cooking pancakes before her father had to go to work and the rest of the day began.
Wanda opened her eyes to the other half of her bed empty, but the smell of pancakes and the faint sound of old music told her where you were.
She stretched sleep from her limbs with a groan and silently made her way to you.
Once Wanda reached you she simply stood by the doorway, watching while you swayed your hips and sing a long to the music in a languid way. It was off key and it was beautiful at the same time, because it was you. You could make even the trash look beautiful if you were holding it to her. If she could, Wanda would forever capture this moment with you and keep it with her always.
Wanda was more than content with watching you from afar but the pancakes you were making lured her further in and forced her from her spot at the doorway.
“good morning Солнечный свет,” Wanda greeted with a kiss to your cheek. “it smells good, how can I help?”
“I’m almost done here, why don’t you set the table.” You said as you pecked her lips. Concentrating mostly on not burning the pancakes. Wanda did as you had asked and set the table for the both of you.
By the time Wanda had set the table you were done cooking and were plating the pancakes and pouring the tea into their respective cups.
—
“What time is Nick bringing the kids?” Wanda asked as she stuffs another mouthful and delicious fluffy pancakes into her mouth.
“Originally it was today but I got a call earlier before you woke up,” You said as you take another bite, “but the twins want to visit smithsonian with Nick, so they’re staying another day. Strange will portal them here early tomorrow.”
“So that just leaves us another day then,” Wanda said quirking her eyebrow, “all alone.” You winked in response and laughed slightly.
Yes just another day alone with one another.
—
It was one of those days where you just let Wanda magic all the dishes clean and away along with the mess you had made making the breakfast.
You and her had been so busy the past weekend, you loved the twins with every fiber of your being. You would die for them. But you really couldn’t get much cleaning done when they were here, because once you got one area clean, the kids would come in like a tsunami and suddenly the coffee table is sticky and all the toys were out.
So when Nick called you and said he wanted the weekend with his grandkids you didn’t have any quarrel with it. You knew besides you and Wanda, Nick loved those kids and would do anything for them.
The past two days were spent cleaning, manually. Wanda was originally just magic all the mess and clutter away, but you somehow convinced her that doing it manually was much more rewarding.
However, after cleaning and reorganizing everything, now you want nothing more than to sit on the couch with Wanda and watch whatever, not having to get up to even do dishes.
And that’s exactly what you did.
You made popcorn and you and Wanda watched most of the movies you watched when the kids were asleep at night along with binge watching a few episodes from various sitcoms.
At some point there was just silence, you and Wanda just watched the rain and were content to just be together.
Sometimes you sit back and you just admire how far both you and Wanda have come. From living at the compound, getting called away for missions where you never knew what was going to happen, always sacrificing the people and things that matter most to you for the greater good, being so powerful and yet to powerless when it really counted.
You loved your life, you loved your kids and your wife.
You’ll treasure it and hold onto it for as long as you could.
Two months passed and since then nights with Nat had become routine. Once maybe twice a week the red head would come to your place and you would take turns on ordering and drinks.
Usually Nat stuck with pizza, wings, and beer while your usual would be Chinese food and soda.
Sometimes the night would go on with Nat fixing a few things here and there while you sit there and obviously subtly admire the way her tattoos moved.
However, most nights consisted of sitting on your couch watching netflix. Recently you had started the Witcher with her. She had picked it one night and hasn’t stopped watching it since. You had offered to give her your password so she could watch it on her own, but she refused.
“I started it with you and I’m ending it with you.”
You didn’t have the heart to tell her you already binged watched the entire thing.
Through those nights you both had become closer, you learned more and more about her as she slowly opened up. Like how Clint and her had met, how Nick bailed her out of trouble more than once. How she met Toni and funny stories about Yelena.
Despite her opening up more, you could still feel that bit of distance between you. It was small, but it was still there.
It didn’t help that as time flew and the closer you got to her, the more those pesky feelings of yours got in the way. The way Natasha lit up each room she was in, how seeing her improved your mood, how easy it was to relax and laugh around her. You started wanting to hold her hand and to go out some nights instead of in, dance with her, and kiss her.
You knew you had to back away, create some distance and some boundaries for yourself. You wanted her, but you knew you couldn’t. Your friendship mattered too much, it was fine the way it was and you shouldn’t go ruining that.
It also didn’t help that on the nights she wasn’t with you she was always with someone else, always inviting them back to hers for the night only to leave early in the morning before she goes on her run.
You were lost in thought behind the counter, staring aimlessly at the register in front of you. You didn’t even hear the door opening or the click of heels against the floor making their way towards you.
“Earth to (Y/n),” a voice broke through your thoughts as you looked up from the register and to a familiar brunette.
“Sorry Maria,” You apologized.
“How long were you up last night?” Maria asks concern showing on her pretty features, “you look like you haven’t slept in a while.”
“It’s just stress,” You say, “the order for that book has been pushed by a week again and I need it by friday, so I was looking for other options. And then the power went out last night and all the food I had in the fridge went bad so now I have to go grocery shopping after work, I also have to plan Wanda’s bachelorette party and make some time to go dress shopping with Wanda, and-”
“It sounds to me like you need a night of fun.” Maria observed leaning a little closer, “it also sounds like you need a stress reliever.” She winks and you blush, “I’ll pick you up at seven and wear something nice.”
And with that Maria was gone. You stood there a couple of seconds processing what had just happened, the Maria Hill best lawyer in the county had just offered to be a stress reliever. You shake your head trying not to get ahead of yourself, as well as shake the slight guilty feeling you have.
The guilt got worse as Nat came in. Her eyes landed immediately on you behind the counter and a smile stretched her face.
“Hey Nancy Drew,” She started, “so tonight I was thinking maybe cheeseburgers instead of pizza? There’s a place I wanted to check out for a while now and Yelena says it’s good so-” Nat pauses. Taking in your appearance, your face was flushed and you were wringing your hands nervously.
“What’s wrong?” Nat asked. You take a deep breath before responding evenly.
“I can’t do it tonight.” You said.
“oh,” Nat said, masking her disappointment, “ok, um, did something come up?”
“uh, yeah, actually,” you started, “it’s a really funny story actually but um I guess long story short, Maria Hill just asked me out tonight.”
You tried to read Natasha, however her face was still, not showing any emotions beyond what she wanted you to see. There was a pause that seemed to stretch forever until Natasha broke the silence.
“That’s great.” She said a small smile gracing her features. “Maria Hill, she’s a lawyer right?” you nod, “that’s great. I think I remember her from school actually, she went to the public school around here with us right?” You nod again slightly confused on where she was going with this, “yeah, I mean I’m sure she’s changed since then so the date should go great.”
“What do you mean by that?” You asked, one hand on your hip as you stand.
“Mean by what?”
“By you’re sure 'she’s changed so the date should go great’.”
“Well I mean, last I checked she was a total bitch. But I don’t know I haven’t seen her in years so maybe she’s changed.” Nat shrugged.
“I thought you were friends with her in school?”
“yeah and then she put gum in my hair causing me to cut it.” Nat explained, “but you know blessing in disguise cause I look really good with shoulder length hair. Less hassle to maintain.”
“Well a lot can happen in a few years.”
“Apparently.” Nat said before leaving the store leaving you confused and a little hurt. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, you knew this is what had to be done. Distance. You had to distance yourself from her for a bit. This date was a perfect way to get over lingering romantic feelings for her and to have some fun. It’s going to be fun.
SUMMARY: After the night out with your friends you return home and find a surprise waiting for you next door.
Later on that night you and Vision were the last pair standing as the rest of the group was drunk off their asses.
You spent the rest of the night helping Vision get the drunk group home safely.
You first dropped off Steve and Bucky, they weren’t as drunk as the rest but still in no condition to either drive or help care for the others. So you walked them to the door and bid them a good night with the gentle reminder to drink some water and take an aspirin.
Then Monica who you entrusted her roommate Darcy to look after.
Finally you helped get Pietro to bed, making sure he was on his side and had water and aspirin on his nightstand next to him for when he woke up, although you knew he was going to be ok you thought maybe it would be best if you slept on the couch just to make sure he would be alright. Wanda would be fine because she had Vision. Monica would be alright because she had Darcy taking care of her. Steve and Bucky would be alright because they had each other. But Pietro had no roommate or anyone to take care of him except you and Wanda.
After assuring Pietro was alright you set up your place on the couch. Gathering blankets and an extra pillow from Pietro’s bed that would go unmissed. While setting up your area your eyes caught the picture of you and the twins during your highschool years hanging on the wall.
You smiled as you remembered how emo and edgy Wanda and Pietro looked and how eighties you unintentionally looked.
You laughed and immediately wanted to turn the picture the other way out of embarrassment when you studied how you looked.
Why did you think that looked good?
However embarrassed you were of the photo you smiled as you remembered your high school years with them.
Pietro was the star track athlete and every girl (and guy) wanted him in one way or another. Yet for some unknown reason he stuck with you and Wanda.
Wanda was the smartest among your small group and she didn’t even need to try. Looking back you don’t think you ever saw her study but yet somehow she managed to pass with flying colors that made Agatha green with envy. It wasn’t until she met Vision that you saw her actually apply herself and compete for valedictorian.
You were the only one they listened to most of the time. You didn’t know why but they had always listened to what you said.
You wonder what your trio would’ve been like as a quartet.
As you laid your head and began to try to sleep you thought about Natasha and how she would’ve fit into that small group of yours.
—
The morning started off pretty well so far for you. Pietro had woken up before you for his morning run and brought back coffee and pastries from the local coffee shop around the corner. You spent the rest of the morning laughing and talking before finally departing on your way back to the bookstore to open.
You really were thankful that you had thought ahead and had some clothes stored away at Pietro’s. You ate breakfast with Pietro before finally departing to your bookstore a few blocks away.
You hummed mindlessly all the way there. It had been a while since your last outing and last night had been refreshing, regardless of whether or not you got as drunk as everyone else did. You had fun.
As you neared your store you noticed a moving van with people unloading next to it. Curiosity filled you as you began to wonder what would fill the empty store next to you. As you got closer you could see a petite blonde woman giving the people unloading directions. You could see she was heavily tatted, your eyes were drawn to one in particular on her collar, ‘Miss American Pie.” in beautiful handwriting. You didn’t know why but she looked familiar to you. You decided to pay no mind to it as you went to unlock the store.
“(Y/n)?”
You turned around and saw the blonde woman looking at you. Her features were fair and the shape of her nose was something to envy. You quickly remembered that she was the blonde woman from last night that had a six foot man in a chokehold.
“You’re that woman from last night,” You say, “the one who put that man in a chokehold. I’ve got to say that was pretty cool.”
“Did I?!” She asks astonished, “I was so drunk last night I can barely remember Nat putting me to bed.”
“We’ve all been there,” You said, “how did you know my name though I don’t think I talked to you last night?”
“We were neighbors,” she explained, “you were friends with my sister Natasha.”
Flashes of a little blonde girl came into mind that usually stuck to Natasha like glue.
“Yelena?” You asked before the blonde grinned from ear to ear and nodded. “Oh my god I am so sorry I didn’t recognize you.”
“It’s no problem,” Yelena said, “it took me a few minutes too to remember who you were.”
“So are you the one moving in next door?”
“No actually,” Yelena said, “I’m just helping set everything up for the shop before going back to my place a few blocks down from here.”
“Who is moving in?”
“That would be me, Nancy Drew.”
You turned your head and there stood Natasha. Her tattoos now were more visible in light and decorated her skin like paint on a canvas. You thought she looked like she came straight out of a vogue magazine.
“Good you’re here.” Yelena said as Natasha made her way to where you both stood, “Toni doesn’t know how you want to arrange the stations and needs help on that. Dad is trying to fight the movers and Mom is nowhere to be found.”
“Where’s Clint?” Natasha sighed.
“Still sleeping off his hangover.” Yelena explained.
“Ok,” Natasha said, “tell Toni I’ll be there in a few minutes to help her, tell Dad if he doesn’t knock it off Mom will knock him out, and Mom is probably upstairs checking out the apartment and I would try Clint’s phone if that doesn’t work get Nick.”
Yelena stood there expectantly at her sister before finally Natasha said. “Please oh great sister of mine.”
“There you go, was that so hard?” Yelena says before turning back to you. “I’ll see you later (Y/n), have Nat invite you to the housewarming party next week before she chickens out.”
“I was going to do that,” Natasha calls after her sister as Yelena begins to walk away.
“You weren’t doing it fast enough.” Yelena says before disappearing in the store leaving just you and Natasha.
“So you’re moving in next door?” You ask.
“Yeah,” Natasha says, “bout time I put down some roots, open up that tattoo shop I’ve been dreaming about since I first walked into one.”
“That explains the look then.” You say.
“What look?” Natasha smiles knowing exactly what you meant.
“That look you gave me all the time when you knew something I didn’t and tried to be all mysterious about it.” You explained and Natasha laughed. “So what is this tattoo shop going to be called?” You asked Natasha who ceased laughing before finally answering.
“Black Widow.” Natasha replied before gazing at her store with a sparkle in her eye that you were familiar with. It was the same look in your eye every time you looked at your store. Just as you were about to say something the vibrating sound of Natasha’s phone rang. Natasha grabbed it from her pants before sighing and looking back at you.
“I’ve got to take this call, it should just take a second.” Natasha said, understanding what she meant you said, “it’s ok,” You replied, “I’ll just be in the store setting up shop so come and visit when you’re done with the call.”
“I will,” Natasha promised before answering her phone. You turn the keys into your door and begin to set up shop.
You barely got through counting the drawer before Natasha comes through the door. The look on her face immediately got your attention. The redheaded woman leaned on your counter.
“Do you happen to know any artists that might have some pieces ready?” Natasha asks.
“Yeah my friend Steve,” You say, “I can give you his home number and his cell. His husband might answer though, his name is Bucky. If he asks how you got the number just tell him it was me.” You said as you quickly wrote the two seperate numbers on a piece of paper before handing it to Natasha.
“You are a lifesaver thank god.” Natasha praised.
“So who was on the phone?” You asked. Natasha groaned as she remembered how the heated discussion went.
“This artist that I had previously contracted to create some tattoo’s for us. He called to back out of the deal and since not all of the paperwork was signed he had every right to back out and take his pieces with him.”
“Why did he back out?”
“Didn’t say,” She responded, “but I owe you big time for this thank you so much.”
“Don’t mention it, Steve is the best and I’m sure he’ll appreciate the business.” You responded.
“Well if Steve is the best then I definitely owe you dinner at least.” Natasha said as she began to make her way to the door, “I’ll swing by around eight.”
As you were about to argue about it, she continued.
“No arguments,” Natasha cut off as she opened the door, throwing you an over the shoulder look before saying, “Just bring your pretty self Nancy Drew.” One of her blue eyes winks before sauntering off knowing how flushed your face is just from being called pretty.
—
The day had been busier than you anticipated. From one kid destroying a complicated book display to a karen or two saying this book or that book should be on sale when in reality it wasn’t. Finally the numerous people ceased and it was time to start closing shop.
You counted the drawer and left two hundred in the drawer, turned the sign to closed, re-did the book display, vacuumed and swept, wiped the counter, finally came to organize and restock the shelves.
You grabbed as many boxes of books as you could before returning to the shelves to stack. It was overall a tedious process, especially for the high shelves.
You were about to put the last one on the shelf when you heard the store door open.
“Hey are you rea-” Natasha began before the door closed behind her and the shelf in front of you collapsed. You sighed as you stepped down from the stepping stool to assess the damage, however the redhead had somehow beaten you to it.
“It looks like whoever installed this shelf for you didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground.” She said as she picked up said shelf. “Thankfully I know my way around a drill and just so happen to have a million screws laying around next door.”
“Nat you don’t need to-”
“It’s not a problem Nancy Drew,” Natasha assured, “I’ll be right back with a couple of screws and a drill. We’ll have that fixed in no time.” and with that Natasha left the store out of the same door she just came in from. You start to get the books that had haphazardly fallen from the shelves and you prayed that none of the pages from the books had creased or any of the spines bent.
True to her word Natasha returned a few minutes later with a tool kit in one hand and a drill in another. Her usual leather coat was nowhere to be seen leaving her arms exposed.
You could see that she had one arm sleeved with tattooed webs and the other had a few miscellaneous tattoos here decorating her arm like ink on a canvas.
You watched patiently, being very careful not to let your eyes wander from her face. However you would catch yourself more than once staring at the way her tattoos moved with her muscles.
Once the shelf was properly installed and stacked the redheaded woman turned to you.
“I should probably check the other shelves to make sure they’re properly installed.” Natasha said, breaking you out of your trance.
“You don’t need to do that.” You quickly said. Not wanting to bother her further.
“It really isn’t a big deal.” Natasha assured, “what kind of neighbor would I be if I didn’t help you out huh?” She smiled as the argument on your lips fell silent.
“Fine but I’m ordering take out and you’re picking the place.” You said already reaching for your phone, Natasha was about to argue but was quickly cut off, “after all what kind of neighbor would I be if I allowed you to go hungry after doing me a favor?”
Natasha smiled as the argument fell silent on her lips.
—
After listing off a few different restaurants that deliver, Natasha settled on ordering a pepperoni pizza with wings and asked if you had any beer. After confirming that Natasha went straight to work on the shelves.
Natasha was done re-installing the shelves by the time the pizza and wings arrived. While dealing with the delivery person Natasha grabbed two ice cold beers from the cooler you brought downstairs from your apartment.
The night was spent in a bunch of laughter and conversation. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun and felt this deep of a connection with someone. Even though it had been years since you had last seen each other and had a moment like this, you couldn’t help but feel like no time had passed. Like she was still your blue haired neighbor and you were her book obsessed best friend.
As the night dwindled you found yourselves laying on the floor next to each other in comfortable silence.
Well almost.
Despite feeling like no time had passed you can’t ignore that it did, you can’t forget how she got up and left one day. Without a word and you were left wondering for years what happened to her.
You still were trying to piece together what happened.
“Hey Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“Why did you leave?”
The question hung in the air for a second until you heard Natasha let out a shaky breath.
“I didn’t know we were going to until that day,” She said, “I wanted to say goodbye but I couldn’t.”
“Why though?” You asked.
“I just couldn’t,” She said, “I want to tell you more, I do. But just trust me when I say that it’s going to take time for me to actually put it into words.” There was a silence before she continued, “you deserve a proper explanation.”
“I do,” You agreed, “you were my best friend and you just disappeared. That hurt me and for a while I thought it was me-”
“No,” Natasha interrupted, “it wasn’t you.”
After another pause you continued.
“Whenever you can tell me,” You said, turning your head to look her in her oceanic eyes, “I’ll be here with open ears.”
Natasha smiled before you both turned your heads back to the ceiling. Your hands brushing against each other like it was old times again.
SUMMARY: After Wanda announces her engagement a familiar face returns into your life.
“(Y/n)!”
You heard the familiar chime of the doorbell and the familiar excited voice of your friend fill the relatively empty store. You whipped your head to her just in time to see her barrelling toward you and captured you in a bone crushing hug.
“Whoa there Wands,” You said as you returned the hug, “did something happen or are you just that happy to see me?”
Wanda quickly released you from her vice grip, “oh nothing much happened,” Wanda paused before holding up her left hand, “except this.” On her left hand on her ring finger sat a beautiful vintage ring.
“Oh my god!” You exclaim smiling as you grab her hand to get a closer look at the ring, it was simple in design but it really suited Wanda. ‘When did this happen?!”
“Last night,” Wanda reveals happily her smile never deterring, “Vis and I were watching reruns of the Dick Van Dyke Show, I told him how Mary’s ring was beautiful and next thing I know he asks ‘is it as beautiful as this ring’ next thing I know he’s down on one knee with the ring in his hand asking me to marry him.”
“I’m so happy for you and Vis.” You congrat Wanda as you and her continue to talk about her engagement for a few more minutes.
“Actually Vis and I were planning on going to the city tonight to celebrate, are you busy?” Wanda asks. You take a quick look at your calendar finding nothing but closing the store on the agenda for tonight.
“Nope,” You respond, “just have to close the store.”
“Close early and Vis and I will pick you up,” Wanda said, “We’re bringing Pietro, Steve, Bucky, and Monica with us.”
You hesitate for a bit, but you take one look into Wanda’s pleading eyes, the same eyes that have gotten you into more than your fair share of trouble since highschool, next thing you know you’re nodding your head in agreement.
Wanda lets out a small squeal before enveloping you once again in a small hug before saying goodbye and that Pietro will pick you up by seven.
As you continue about your day, stacking books and working the register you start to wonder when the last time you actually had a date was.
During the slow rush you decide to check your calendar again. You flip through each page until finally you land three months prior where you had plans to meet up with the local coffee barista at some bar you can’t remember the name of. What you do remember is that the date ended with you buying a half quart of ice cream and watching reruns of Gilmore Girls.
You check the clock and check the store to find it empty. You decide now would probably be a good time to close and to start getting ready for the night in the city with Wanda and the rest.
You turn the sign on the door to ‘closed’ and push all thoughts of dating to the back of your mind.
—
You had just slipped your shoes on when you heard Pietro knock on your door in the familiar pattern he’s done since high-school.
You answer the door to reveal Pietro. You always thought he had looked handsome in that mischievous way. But when he wears that white button up and slacks with his hair gelled back he is a special type of handsome.
“Well damn don’t we look fancy tonight?” You say as Pietro noticeably checks you out in the same appreciation. You did a small turn in your black dress that fell just mid thigh.
“And you don’t look too bad yourself Princeza,” Pietro said as he offered his arm in an overdramatic gentlemanly style. Which you responded in kind, laughing slightly as you made sure to lock the door behind you before finally heading out.
—
You were back in your parents backyard, sitting in that hammock with a book in your hands. Nancy Drew had wormed her way into eleven year old you’s heart, with all of her adventures and detective skills.
Just as you were about to reach the climax of the book you heard a familiar voice.
“Whatcha reading today?” You look away from the book and spot a familiar blue haired girl the same age. She was the neighbor that moved in about three years ago, Natasha, who quickly became your best friend.
“Nancy Drew,”
“Again?”
“There’s more than one Natty.” You responded, next thing you know the book is lifted from your hands and Natasha is hovering over you with the book in her hands.
“Naaat.” You whine as you try to reach for the book only to have her expertly move it away from you.
“C’mon,” Natasha says as she makes her way to the bushes separating your yard and hers, “adventure awaits.”
You struggle a little as you make your way out of your hammock and through the lush bushes to Natasha who slips through the crack in between.
“Nat,” you warn lightly.
“I promise I’ll give you the book back,” Natasha promises, “but first we go on an adventure! Grab your bike and meet me out front!”
“Where exactly is this adventure?”
“Just grab your bike, chatty cathy!”
You hear her footsteps rush over to her bike as you rush to yours.
By the time you let your parents know you’ll be riding your bike and get to the front of your house Natasha is already waiting for you.
Together you both rode your bikes until finally settling on a clearing near the local park. There was this big oak tree and in front of it a huge rock as well covered in green moss.
For a while both you and Natasha played by either climbing on the rock and proclaiming yourselves rulers of the land, climbing the tree, playing pretend in the most kid way possible.
However you would catch glimpses sometimes, you didn’t know what, but it made you worry for her. Like how sad she looked, or scared.
Finally, after being worn out by playing you both lay on the grass beneath you and watch as the fireflies began to dance around the big oak looking like thousands of moving stars.
You were enjoying the bit of peace and silence when you felt her hand hold yours. You look over and see the blue haired girl still staring at the millions of fireflies with a smile on her lips.
“Thank you for being my best friend.” She said gently as you looked away from her and continued watching the fireflies dance, until the sun finally set and it was time to go home.
She never did give that book back.
—
“Princeza, we’re here.” You hear the familiar accented voice say. You slowly open your groggy eyes to see the glittering lights of the city.
“How long was I out?”
“An hour.”
“So the whole car ride,” You say, you could see Pietro nod from the driver’s side, “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“I was asleep the whole car ride, you were probably bored.”
“No, I wasn’t bored,” Pietro said, “I know you haven’t been sleeping much because of the store.”
Here it comes.
“You need to start working less Princeza,” Pietro continued concerned, “you spend all your waking hours at the store, tending to your books, and life is going to pass you by.”
“Pietro-”
“I don’t mean to be harsh or rude,” Pietro quickly added, “it’s just I see you all the time at the store and nowhere else lately. I get that the store is demanding, but just try to make some time for yourself. Promise me?”
You look at him and can’t refuse.
“I promise.”
You can start relaxing tonight.
—
You came to quickly realize that clubbing really wasn’t your thing.
A pile of random sweaty bodies ground on each other on the dance floor to music that hurt your eardrums.
It wasn’t that you were judging anyone for liking this atmosphere, it just wasn’t your cup of tea, you preferred to stay on the sidelines and watch your friends dance.
And the full bar proved that you weren’t the only one.
You had looked away for a second to order a beer when you spotted someone familiar.
It was dark save for the flickering lights that illuminated her every once in a while. You couldn’t place where you knew her but you knew that you knew her. It was in the way she walked with a certain grace and her eyes were sharp enough to cut through you and you imagined her tongue was the same way.
She must have noticed you staring because the next thing you know she’s staring right at you. Your eyes lock and that’s when it hits you.
You didn’t recognize her without her blue hair.
Natasha.
You panic and turn back to the bar to order that beer you were going to order about five minutes ago. You mentally beat yourself up, if you didn’t look like a creep before you definitely did now.
You were so busy mentally assaulting yourself that you didn’t notice the redhead sauntering her way to you and sit on the empty barstool next to you.
“Well if it isn’t Nancy Drew.”
You turn your head and see Natasha there beside you. Her hair was shoulder length and no longer blue. Now her hair was it’s natural elegant red color, her blue eyes sharper than you remember as well as her cheekbones. You noticed hints of tattoos peeking out from the collar and sleeve of her leather coat.
“You never did return that book.”
You both couldn’t help the laugh that erupted. Even though it’s been years somehow it almost feels like no time has passed.
Almost.
“So what’ve you been up to?” Natasha asked, “still into books?”
“Uh yeah,” You confirm, “I actually own a bookshop back home.”
You see Natasha smile from ear to ear before taking a sip of what was your beer now it seems to be adopted by Natasha.
“That’s so you,” Natasha said before taking another sip from the beer bottle.
“Well what about you?” You ask, “what have you been up to?”
You could see the hesitancy in Natasha’s face, just as she was about to answer, however you see a light brown haired male come up beside her.
“Hey Nat, I hate to interrupt but we got a Budapest situation over here.” Natasha swerved her attention to where he pointed at the blonde who was obviously drunk off her ass putting a six foot tall man into a choke hold. Which you had to admire and be impressed at.
“I guess that’s my cue Nancy Drew,” Natasha said as she took one last sip from the beer bottle before abandoning it. As she was making her way through the crowd but before she got too far you saw her turn around.
“What was the name of your bookstore again, Nancy Drew?!” She yelled over the crowd.
“Oh-um- Summertime Stories!” You call out, you catch a glimpse of something in her eyes before it disappears.
Summary: You and Marc got married a long time ago, even before all this mess happened and he got the suit.
A/N: Potential SPOILER warning for those who don’t know about Marc in the comics.
Marc wanted to keep you safe.
The less you knew, the better it was. At least that is what he believed. But you knew it all.
You weren’t blind or stupid you noticed your husband changing, sure he was always a little weird, but you could read him like a book.
You could, yet it still hurt whenever he left you behind, telling you not to look for him, call him or so anything to even be close to him.
And you listened, you sure did.
Only sent him texts, to which he responded a couple of days later. Then a call came. Suddenly out of nowhere.
“Hi, Honey.” you said picking up.
“O-Oh Sorry.” the guy on the other end said with a heavy accent. It made you tilt your head and he quickly hung up.
You tried to call him back but he didn’t pick up, so you just let it go.
Then Marc came home, saying he will spend the weekend with you. And you were happy.
Happy enough to bring that strange call up.
“Soooo, are you going to tell me who the sexy English man was?”
He looked at you questioningly as he stopped the movie you were watching.
“You called me last week, I picked up but a British guy answered and after babbling he hung up.”
“Oh.” was all he said, and you just waited.
And then, slowly he stood up, sitting down at a chair by the table and started to talk.
He walked about his childhood, his life and his mental issues. He told you about his identity disorder too.
And it all made sense.
Your heart broke for him. Marc was such a great person, kind, affectionate and trustworthy. And yet, here he was breaking down like a child.
You on the other hand was the kind of person who would rather laugh than cry. And your aching heart needed a distraction.
So, after Marc finished explaining what happened to him, you sat there for a moment, thinking about what to say. And the best you could come up with was.
“So, you are like a two for one special?” you asked and Marc just stared at you. “You know like those special offers in stores. I got you as a husband but I also got Steven and Jake, or how does that work?”
This was probably the first time in your life that you have seen Marc confused and not sure what to say.
“Don’t get me wrong your trauma is awful, I’m here if you want to talk about it more. I’m just not sure how to help. Maybe Jake or Steven wants to talk?” he just blinked, and it made you sigh. “Did I say something weird again?” you had a tendency to say weird things when you wanted to defuse the tension. But you two just stared at each other.
This went on for about five minutes.
Then he finally moved his arms from his legs.
And he laughed.
“I can’t believe you said “like those special offers in stores”. Who do you think I am?”
“You’re my husband, and I just want to know, how- IF this will change things. D.I.D. is serious, Marc, and I just want to be sure you are at least okay.”
“You know I’m okay, Sweetheart. And this will not change a thing. I always will be okay as long as I have you. This-“ he said gesturing to his head. “Is something you have to learn to live with. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m sorry, I was scared of your reaction.”
“You shouldn’t be, Marc. I love you, all of you. Even if they might not love me.”
Marc made a motion with his head like someone just told him something before he smiled.
“They do, at least Steven does. And you met Jake before.”
“I sure did. He is a flirty one.” you did, but you only realized now that it was him and not Marc. You laughed and stood up to hug him. He hugged your middle while you ran your fingers through his hair, slightly scratching his scalp. “Thank you for telling me all of this.”
“I love you. We love you.”
“And I love all of you too.”
You would be lying if you said you weren’t worried, of course, you were, but you also knew that you loved him and as long as you had him and he had you, everything will be okay.
Really, you did. It could not get any worse than this.
Here you were, packing a bag to leave the home you love to go to the home of the one person you have been actively avoiding for the past few weeks.
You haven’t spoken to your family, too angry that they had even considered letting Christine take you, then forcing you to go with her. You felt betrayed. This literally the worst thing that your father could have done.
“Y/n, come on, you’ve been in there for nearly a day.” Tony spoke to your door, not getting any response from you.
“Kid…”
silence.
“Y/nnnnn come onnnn”
Nothing.
In fact, you weren’t eve listening to him, you have headphones in. You didn’t even notice when Pepper had FRIDAY override the locks on your door, and were startled when you felt a weight on your bed and a hand on your back. You jerk away from the hand and rip the headphones out of your head.
“Y/n I know you’re upset, but there’s nothing else we can do.” Pepper says sadly.
“Except for sending me to the Barton’s, Xavier’s, with the Parkers, with Wade, or hell even with Thor.” You say in a deadpan voice.
“Hey now, I’m pretty sure Clint still holds a grudge for the whole,"civil war and putting him in jail thing.”, Xaiver’s is due for a random explosion, Peters is too close, and like hell im letting you do with Deadpool or in space.“ Tony said in a equally sarcastic voice.
You groan and throw yourself onto your bed, ” So sending me to gloomy, crime ridden Gotham is any better?“
Granted of course, you would be living with Batman but to your knowledge your parents didn’t know that.
"Sweetheart…we just want to keep you safe. And right now, it isn’t safe here.” Pepper said brushing a stray piece of hair from your face, “ I don’t want you to spend any unnecessary time with that woman, believe me. But please understand that we have no choice.”
You’re silent, you can see the desperation in Peppers eyes and could tell your father was upset. You know that they would send you somewhere else if they had the choice, but you couldn’t help but be upset. I mean, who would want to live with the family they were abandoned for??
They consisted of you shopping for various items you’ll need for your trip and sulking silently. Logically, you know that Bruce and Christine can afford to buy you these things but you refuse to take anything from them.
Your resentment for your situation grows as you realize that Tony and Pepper are too recognizable, especially due to the circumstances, so they would not be able to go with you to the manor.
“This is bullshit! You holler as you are loading the SUV with your things, “ It’s bad enough I’m being sent with that witch-“
“Y/n.” Pepper scolds.
“- I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.” You scowl, “I don’t want to be alone.”
Peppers face softens, seeing how distressed you are with the whole situation.
“ Oh baby, I’m so sorry”, she whispers, pulling you in for a hug and rubbing your back.
You fight with the tears that are threatening to come out. You hate crying in front of your parents, especially your dad. You know he’s going to be down any minute.
“ Y/n I swear to you that as soon as this whole thing is over i’m bringing you home personally.” Pepper promises, stroking your face.
You sniff, trying to commit the feeling of her touch to memory. You highly doubt that you’re gonna let Christine and her family this close to you, let alone touch you.
“I just…” You start to say, but cut yourself off feeling your throat swell and your eyes water. Pepper hushed you as she gathered you in her arms. You bury your face in her shoulder, feeling like a child once again.
It’s silent as the two of you stand in the middle of the common room, then Tony and Happy walk in.
Usually, your father will have something smart to say, but the whole day he was uncharastically quiet, only muttering a few words to you.
He clears his throat and says in a quiet tone, “ Ok kid, you’re all set.”
You reluctantly let go of Pepper, deciding to ignore the dampness on your shirt and tear tracks on her face. You turn to your father, a somber look on his face.
That’s when it really hits you. You would be leaving New York. Leaving your home, your family. You don’t know when you’re coming back or when you can see them again. And worst of all, you’re moving in with the person who abandoned you and the family she abandoned you for.
“Kid.” Your dad says softly, “ Here.”
He hands you this metallic bracelet, it has a couple buttons on it and when you put it on it molds to fit your wrist.
“Gotham is a shit town. I’d feel a lot better knowing that you would be able to defend yourself and not get caught doing it.” He says. You smile understanding what he’s saying: He knows you’re going to try and sneak out, thr bracelet will turn into a suit to hide your identity.
“Thanks pops.” You smirk, the smile not reaching your eyes.
He sighs “Get over here kid.” And pulls you into a hug.
And that’s when the damn breaks.
You cry as your dad hold you tight. You feel Pepper come up behind you and rub your back as your father whispers promises of your return. That he won’t let you stay there for long.
You savor the moment. The feeling of being safe in your home, in your parents arms. The familiar smell of motor oil and cologne that is distinctly your father. Peppers perfume. The hum of electricity that lets you know that FRIDAY is always around, willing to help. This is your home. Your family. Not even mentioning the Avengers.
Summary: After a mission goes wrong, you and the Guardians are left with no other choice but to land on Earth. The only problem is that you haven’t been there in about three years and you kind of left on bad terms.
Fear gripped your heart as you held on to the arm rests of your seat. You never will get used to being jerked around as Peter navigated through asteroids.
While trying to escape from whatever being, gang, or government the team has angered that day.
This time, you’re running because the king of some planet wanted you to marry his son. Then Rocket threatened to castrate him, all
What can you say? You wanted adventure.
*BANG*
“THEY SHOT OFF THE DAMN BOOSTER”
Oh shit.
Lights keep flashing as the ship started shaking. Peter and Rocket were arguing as Drax was laughing. You and Groot look at each other in concern and Gamora just looks like she wants to kill everyone.
“um guys…”
“WE NEED TO LAND SOMEWHERE!”
“OH WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT! LET ME LAND ON THE MILLIONS OF PLANETS, OH WAIT THERE AREN’T ANY!!”
“I DON’T APPRECIATE YOUR TONE”
“Peter..Rocket…”
“I’m sorry, I’m just a little concerned with the FLEET OF SHIPS CHASING US RIGHT NOW”
“PETER!”
“WHAT Y/N??!”
“They’re surrounding us..”
Peter and Rockett’s eyes widen as they actually pay attention, seeing that you pursuers are indeed forming a large circle.
“Shit.”
Rocket turns to Peter, “Make a jump.”
“What?! Are you crazy?!” “YES but we don’t have any other better ideas!!”
“Just do it!” Gamora yells, fed up with the arguing.
And after a beat of hesitation, Peter faced forward and shouted a quick,“HOLD ON TIGHT”
Then made the jump.
After a flash of light, you feel the ship enter the atmosphere of a planet. It shakes as Peter tries to gain control but is failing.
“Someone need’s to go out there and fix the booster!” Peter yells looking at Rocket.
“Don’t look at me. I went last time.”
“As did I.”
“Me too.”
“I am groot.”
You sigh, knowing that it was your turn, “ Alright I’ll go.”
You unbuckle your seat belt and grumble to Peter,” You know, you’re not a responsible guardian.”
He scoffs and says, “I’m teaching you life skills kid. Now go with Rocket.”
You and Rocket roll your eyes as you head towards the back of the ship. He helps you get tied up as the ship shakes around you. He reminds you how to fix the broken part and then mutters a gruff, “You sure you’re gonna be okay?”
To which you smirk and reply with a, “Sure old man, why you worried?”
He rolls his eye and immediately take back what he said, opening the hatch allowing you to step out and crawl out on the side of the ship. Simple, you’ve done this before.
But this time it was different. It seemed that Peter was having trouble steering. You’re jostled around and you scowl. You speak into the little ear com
“Ay Quill, you mind flying better?!”
“SOrry kid. There’s some flying dude in spandex trying to hit us!!”
What? There’s no way.
“What? Is he in blue and has a red “s” on his chest?”
There’s no way. Your luck is not this shitty.
“Um..yeah how did you know that?”
Crap.
“Uh I-AH” You’re cut off, a red laser shooting the rope that had you harnessed to the ship, and helped you keep balance. Thus making you cling onto the side of the ship with your best abliltiy.
“PETER THE HARNESS!”
“HOLD ON KID!”
The ship swerves more, trying to avoid the flying man.
“Where are these guys coming from?!”
That’s the last thing you hear when you’re knocked off the ship, you look up to see a bat shaped object where you were holding on. Everything goes in slow motion as you fall. The last thing you hear is Peter yelling in your ear as you hit the ground and everything goes black.
You groan as you shift on the ground. A sharp pain running up your leg as you sit up. You see a few cuts and you know at least your ankle is sprained.
Your vision clears as you look at your surroundings. You see forrest. That’s all, just forrest. You hear the calls of birds and chattering of woodland creatures.but then you hear footsteps. The crunching of twigs as someone creeps your way.
You leap to your feet, crying out as the weight on your ankle sends more pain shooting up your side. But you don’t let that deter you. You keep the small mask Rocket made for you on, hiding your identity. That’s when you see him
“You’re not from here are you?”
You stay silent, observing his moves. Not wanting to get ambushed.
“Do you know what I’m even saying?”
There’s a beat of silence then you lowly say “ My..My family?”
“Oh they’re fine. It seems that the ship you were on crashed but everyone’s okay! Don’t worry. They’re worried about you though. So, um, you wanna come with me.”
Relieved you relax your stance. A familiar feeling coming over you as you cock your hip, “ I don’t know, Rocket always said not to speak to strangers.”
He blushes, not expecting your shift in tone, “ Well, I’m Robin.”
You smirk, “ I know.”
He looks confused, but that morphs into shock as you click a button, allowing the mask to retract and reveal your face.
prompt: anonymous: “Can I please requests headcanons of what Pietro Maximoff would do when he has to do the fake dating trope (during a mission) with the girl that he’s in love with (super bubbly, optimistic, and naive)? Thank you!!”
pietro was a huge flirt
which is why you never thought twice when he did
it was just the way he was
but little did you know, there was something quite different about it
“you and me, we should out some time? it will be my treat”-pietro
“pietro, do you ever stop flirting?”-you
“as a matter of fact, i do”-pietro
you and him worked pretty well as a team, though
so when you were picked for an undercover op, you weren’t surprised
and pietro was more than willing
“this is my chance, wanda”-pietro
“don’t get your hopes up, you’re only playing a part”-wanda
“oh, they’ll be no pretending from me”-pietro
the fake relationship to you was just business because that’s all you knew
but pietro was veryconvincing
“just, yes, just get closer. there we go” -pietro, wrapping his arm around you
“you’re better at this than i thought you’d be” -you
“oh, you’re just saying that”-pietro
your “date” led you to a pretty popular party, you had to split up occasionally to socialize
but pietro kept his eyes on you all night
you’d catch him every once in a while and wave, but he was shameless about it
and he told EVERYONE you were dating, like he was hammering it into both of your minds
“that one over there? they came with me” -pietro
oh and if anyone else looked at you he’d…well, he’d warn against it
for a moment he actually did convince himself it was real, he really was living out his dream
“may i kiss you?”-pietro
love a man who asks permission
““““the kiss is to be convincing””””
when you got what you came for, you left together
“you can stop holding my hand now, maximoff”-you
“what if i dont want to?”-pietro
“why’s that?”-you
“isn’t it obvious?”-pietro
you laughed at the way he always answered you, the way he never stopped flirting with you
but you see him flirt practically all the time
“you can’t be serious”-you
“you’re smarter than that”-pietro
“you, pietro maximoff, have a crush on me?” -you
“more than a crush, y/n”-pietro
he’d put his finger under your chin and just looked at you a moment, teasing a kiss but walking away soon after
“well, we should leave if that’s what you want”-pietro
“w-what? maximoff?!”-you
the trip back to base was awkward, but a little funny
the tables had turned and he kept noticing your stares and smirking whenever you were caught
you were over analyzing every interaction you’d had with him
oh, yeah, he left you hanging as soon as you got back to base
REALLY wanted to get you thinking about him
you wondered how many times he’d used that tactic before
“how was the mission?”-wanda
“just as i planned it”-pietro
“poor y/n” -wanda
pietro thought about your mission together all night
so did you <3
and the very next day he ran into you (not running, but you crossed paths)
“so, now that you’ve had time to think it over, would a real date be more your speed?”-pietro
“was that a pun?”-you
“don’t dodge my question”-pietro
“i dodge bullets, not questions”-you
“leave the jokes to me for now”-pietro
“not helping your case, maximoff”-you
“just answer the question, l/n”-pietro
*long pause*
“fine.onedate”-you
“you say ‘one,’ but i’m sure they’ll be plenty more after that”-pietro
“don’t get your hopes up” -you, leaving
“wait, wait! could i get a kiss on the cheek for effort at least?”-pietro
When Tony first set out to convince Bruce to move into Stark Tower with him, he had focused especially on the building’s laboratory. He talked endlessly over lunch after they saw Loki and Thor off to Asgard. The list of amenities was quite impressive, featuring a lot of open space, enormous glass walls and windows, and equipment that Bruce had never even heard of before, let alone seen. The scientific facilities were not the only reason that Bruce finally gave in, but he had to admit they had been a large draw.
Thwap!
Unfortunately, Tony had failed to mention one other important feature of his building and more specifically the labs: his younger sister, [F Name] Stark.
“Ignore her,” Tony crooned in an undertone, as Bruce picked another wad of newspaper off the tabletop.
“That’s the fifth time today she’s thrown something at my head,” Bruce said, “and it’s not even lunchtime.”
“Could be worse. Could be throwing rocks.”
“Don’t give her any ideas.”
“Hello!” you called from behind them. “Do you mind not talking about me as though I’m not here?”
Tony turned to glare at you. “Do you mind annoying someone else for a little while? Maybe Steve would like some company in the gym.”
“If Dr. Banner finds what I’m doing annoying, maybe he should join Cap in the gym.”
Sighing, Tony turned back to his and Bruce’s latest attempt at a new AI. He checked its progress for all of five seconds, then tossed the tool in his hand onto the counter, spun around, and headed for the exit.
“This step should take another hour to complete. Keep an eye on it for me, would you?” he asked Bruce. “I think [Name] is the only person on the planet that can make me long for a long chat with Steve.”
Tony vanished before Bruce could protest. The likelihood of any protest working was slim, but Bruce would have liked to try. Now he was trapped up here unless you decided to leave him alone, something you hadn’t done once whenever you found him in the lab. He dropped his head into his crossed arms resting on the table and hoped that that morning you wouldn’t find him an entertaining target.
Thwap!
“[Name], if you want this floor to remain in one piece, you really need to stop throwing things at me,” he said, voice muffled by his sleeves.
Thwap!
“[Name]."
Thwap!
"I said stop!” Bruce growled as he twisted on his stool to face you.
His shoulders hunched up around his ears, and the breaths heaving from his chest contained a guttural edge. These symptoms alone should have been enough to frighten you, but no. Your bored expression did not flicker. You sat coolly on your stool at the other end of the room with one of the large pile of paper balls beside you clutched in one hand.
“Really?” you asked. “A couple of paper balls to the noggin makes you angry enough to Hulk out?”
“I’m always angry. All it takes is one little push.”
Bruce rubbed at his eyes with his fists. Already that one flare of anger had faded and left him wanting a nap. You were right about one thing, though: A bit of light prodding to the skull was not worth the full exhaustion of becoming the Hulk. He took several deep breaths to get himself under control—only for another paper to bean him in the head.
Thwap!
With a groan, Bruce crumpled the paper in his hand. “Why do you hate me so much, [Name]?”
“Why do you think I hate you?”
“Come on. You’ve had it in for me from the day we met. Any time you find me hanging around with Tony, you do whatever it takes for one of us to get sick of you and go away.”
“How do you mean?"
Thwap!
"Like that. Seriously, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to just go back to India and leave you and your brother in peace?”
“Of course not!” The mere suggestion seemed to leave you shocked. “Why would I want that?”
“If just seeing me around upsets you so much—"
Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!
A cascade of papers hit him one after another. He lifted his hands to shield himself from the blows, but they kept coming until you ran out of ammunition.
"I don’t hate you. God! You already figured out the problem, genius. And you’re supposed to have how many PhDs?”
“Seven,” Bruce answered vaguely. Without the continuous assault on his head, he could perhaps set his mind to figuring out what it was he had already figured out. All he could think of was: “You don’t like it when I spend time with Tony?”
“Ding, ding, ding, ding! Got it in one, Doctor.”
“But my moving to India would solve that problem.”
You had nothing else to toss at him. Apparently, this was reason enough for you get up and walk over to him. A few seconds later, you stood in front Bruce with your hands on your hips. “I don't care about spending time with my brother, all right? It’s not like I just got out of boarding school last week. We see plenty of each other. Which would mean…?”
“You…you want to spend more time with me?” Bruce said, once he realized you expected him to supply an answer. It wasn’t in the least logical, but you nodded. “That doesn’t make any sense! Whenever Tony and I are in here together, you torment me.”
As he blathered on, you just kept on nodding. That Bruce noticed. What he didn’t was the arm extending toward his collar—not until you hooked a finger around it and pulled him toward you until your lips nearly touched.
“That’s because I want to get you alone, Doctor, and out of the lab.”
Bruce gulped. “And why would that be?”
You grinned. “The things I want to do to you aren’t things I want Tony or JARVIS watching.”
“Er…I—That is to say—”
“I’m back! Wouldn’t you know it? Listening to Steve go on and on about the good old days is enough to get me to miss my baby sister,” Tony’s voice came up the stairs leading to the lab door.
Bruce felt himself turn bright red at the thought of him catching you and Bruce in such position, but you’d already released him by the time the thought occurred. Tony saw nothing as he entered the room.
“How about you two? Play nice while I was gone?”
“Um—” Bruce began.
“I ran out of paper balls,” you interrupted. “Don’t worry. I’ve recollected them.”
“Excellent. Then I think it’s about time Bruce and I returned to work. How about you, Bruce?”
Bruce’s eyes followed your sauntering course back to your own lab station. You winked at him as you dropped your projectiles back on its surface. Hastily, he spun back to the waiting holographic screen behind him.
“Yes,” he said. “Let’s.”
“Loving the enthusiasm, Big Guy. Now, I was thinking…”
In all honesty, Bruce didn’t really listen to the rest of Tony’s spiel. He had his mind on other matters—like the possibility of taking you up on that offer to spend time with you outside of the lab. This whole project shouldn’t take too much longer. Then, perhaps, he might convince you to go get a coffee with him.
Thwack!
…if only so you might stop throwing things at his head.
Notes: And so we begin with my attempt at replacing the ficlets I deleted from this collection! I’m going to try to post one a week, but there’s a lot going on, so I’m not going to beat myself up if I can’t get to it.
Hypocrisy
Finally! After an entire morning’s worth of needling and squirming and pouting, you found yourself in the open corridors of Asgard’s royal palace. Being a young woman—the only daughter of Odin’s Captain of the Guard at that—meant that you typically didn’t have many options for adventure whenever your father chose to drag you up there for some “society,” and that day’s meeting had been less adventure than most. Now that you were free of his and Odin’s watchful eyes, you intended to find yourself some fun, and you knew just who to look for to find that.
“Loki!”
Or perhaps that person would find you first. The enraged voice you caused you to jump about a foot in the air in fright.
A clatter of footsteps followed this cry. Louder they grew, and louder and louder, until a boy around your own age rounded the distant corner. You recognized him at once by the mischievous grin on his face. He in turn must have recognized you, for he picked up his pace the moment he spotted you.
“Loki?” you asked, but could not question Odin’s youngest son further before he darted behind you.
“Perfect timing as always, [Name],” he said.
“Perfect timing for what?”
“Loki, I am going to kill you!” the same voice from shouted. “And then I’m going to tell Mother!”
A strange noise issued from behind you. Turning, you found Loki stifling his laughter with his own palm. His green eyes twinkled with mirth. Thor continued stomping up the hall and opening (and slamming shut) every door on the way, and that only seemed to amuse Loki all the more.
“What did you do?” you asked. Your tone smacked the smile right off his face.
“Nothing!”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“All right, nothing important. Nothing Thor should be so worked up over, anyway. It was only a prank.”
“I thought the Allfather told you to stop pulling pranks on your brother,” you said with your hands on your hips.
Loki rolled his eyes. “What does he know? Thor’s got to learn to take a joke.”
“It’s not a joke if your prank is mean.”
“No one got bit this time! What’s the problem?”
“The problem is that you’re being—”
“There you are!”
Thor had found Loki at last. At least, you thought it was Thor. The red-faced boy headed right for you looked familiar, only he had bright blue hair with eyebrows to match. Your attempt at a swift greeting curtsy went ignored. Only Loki could capture Thor’s interest at the moment.
“Turn it back!” Thor shouted.
Loki didn’t flinch. “No.”
“If you don’t, I'll—”
“Make me? How? Get Sif to hold me down so you can punch me?”
Instead of thinking of a better way to finish his threat, Thor—still looking utterly ridiculous with his blue hair—lunged at his brother with a wordless cry of anger. Loki ducking behind you deterred Thor not at all. The two boys, one snarling, the other snickering, circled you. Around and around they went until you grew dizzy enough to shove the nearest person out of the endless whirlwind.
Unfortunately, that person turned out to be Thor. More unfortunately still, your shoving him was enough for you to end up at the wrong end of his wrath yourself.
“You're helping him!” Thor snapped incredulously.
“What?” You shook your head. “No, I—”
“I should have guessed you were in on this, [Name].”
“Wait. I had nothing to—”
“You're always helping him pick on me!”
“I never—”
“If that’s how you want things to be, fine. I’ll tell your dad, too. When he hears about this—”
A sudden peal of laughter from Loki interrupted Thor’s tirade. Disconcerted, Thor paused, but it didn’t take long for him to open his mouth to continue lecturing you. He took a deep breath, then found himself unable to speak over your laughter.
“What?” he demanded, looking between you and Loki as the two of you doubled over gasping for breath. “What are you laughing at? What’s so funny?”
“Maybe—maybe you should check a mirror,” Loki managed to choke out.
Thor’s eyes narrowed, but clearly his suspicions were great enough to convince him to follow Loki’s advice and leave you both unattended. It did not take long for him to find a reflective surface in the lush corridor. He took one look, then gasped. For good reason, too: Above his quivering lips now sat a magnificent mustache the exact same color as the rest of his hair.
“Mother!” Thor bawled before rushing back out of sight once more.
They were too much, his hysterics. Together you and Loki melted into a guffawing puddle right there on the palace floor. Only several minutes later did either of you recover to rise, hiccuping, into a seated position.
Loki shot you a knowing look as you wiped the tears from your eyes. “I thought you said I wasn’t to prank Thor anymore,” he said.
You sat up as straight as you could and said in your most prim of voices, “Thor has to learn to take a joke.”
This very nearly sent the two of you to the floor again. Struggling to contain himself, Loki instead hopped to his feet and offered you a hand to follow suit. You allowed him to pull you up. Each of you shot the other enormous grins at the exact same time. Then you both wordlessly raced up the hall side by side. Thor would be back soon, almost certainly with backup. Until then, there remained plenty of fun for you and your friend to go looking for.
Fic Trade Prompt: "Sometimes the ‘Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’ just needed a shoulder to lean on.“
Notes: I only ever saw the first season of Daredevil. Also, I mostly chose to write this particular fic trade response because I wanted an excuse to write something that, for me, was a shoutout to His Dark Materials, a book series I’m enormously fond of.
I don’t actually know anything about Catholicism, however, and as a Christian myself, I realize His Dark Materials is not exactly a reliable source for learning about the topic of religion. If you are Catholic and something in here is incorrect, I implore you to inform me so that I can fix the problem. If it’s so horrendously awful that a mere edit won’t work, I’m even willing to rewrite it.
In more specific-to-the-fic information, this is one of my few fic trade responses where I tried my hardest to stay within the word count restrictions. Alas, I still went over…and trying so hard means that this really isn’t near as sensory-overload-descriptive as I would want something from Matt’s perspective to be.
A Matter of Sanity
Matt woke up that morning to a barrage of sensory assault: warm sunlight splayed across his skin; humidity from the bathroom down the hall dampened the short hairs on his face; the smell of strange perfume sticking to the semi-cooled sheets beside him and his familiar shampoo drifting through the air. Toast had been made–and nearly burned–in the kitchen sometime that morning. He could hear the medicine cabinet closing, then bare feet padding toward him. Through all these floating, fuzzy feelings sliced his injuries from the night before: cuts, bruises, blisters, maybe a sprained wrist.
“Morning, Mattie.”
Andthere was the reason he had not meditated after the fight, the reason his wounds felt as fresh as though he’d got them minutes before.
Said reason lighted on the edge of his bed and slipped soft fingers into his sleep-mussed hair. “Did you sleep well last night?”
In answer, Matt let out an incomprehensible moan. As far as he could remember, not much sleeping had taken place in the apartment the night before. Still, he wasn’t one to quibble over what he’d been doing instead. Seconds later, he sat up, forcing you to stop playing with his hair so that he could wrap his arms around your waist and put his cheek against your moist, bare shoulder.
“Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” he mumbled.
You laughed, a sound that always caused a pleasant unfurling sensation to spread through Matt’s stomach. “Sorry. A girl has to have some secrets, even from her all-knowing, all-seeing blind lawyer friend.”
“Is that what we are? Friends?” Matt chuckled himself and tightened his grip as he pressed a kiss to your skin. “You are the worst nun I have ever met.”
Another laugh, then you gently patted his cheek with your shower-warmed hand. “Well, maybe that’s why I decided not to be one anymore. What do you want for lunch?”
The weight on his mattress vanished at the same time your body did.
“Lunch? What time is it?”
Frowning, Matt turned in the direction he heard you moving–toward where you had left the majority of your clothes the night before. Whether he had pulled them off or you had, he couldn’t quite remember. Then a more important question popped out of his mouth:
“Did you say you quit being a nun?”
You only bothered to answer his first two questions: “It’s nearly eleven o’ clock. Figured if you wanted to go somewhere, we’d better head that way, and frankly, Matt, there’s nothing in this apartment but beer.”
“Eleven? It’s Thursday. I can’t go to lunch. I’m already late for work–what was that about stopping nun-ing?”
“I called in for you. Foggy whined about you skipping over a woman as usual, but–”
“[Name],” said Matt. “The thing about your job?”
You heaved a dramatic sigh. “I quit, okay? I was going to tell you when I came over last night, but after all that, I kind of figured I didn’t have to anymore.”
“Some clarification might have been nice.” Matt hadn’t felt an overabundance of guilt at sleeping with you. It took two to tango, after all, and you’d been just as willing as he had. Now some dread began to creep in. “Why’d you quit?”
A huff sounded from behind the fabric of the shirt over your face. “I met a tall, dark, handsome stranger beating the tar out of a Russian slave trader in an alley, and he made me rethink my life choices.”
“That’s a cliché.”
“So’s a blind ninja fighting slave traders in New York.”
“Not exactly.” Pressing his lips together, Matt slid out of his silk sheets. He knew his shirt was not far away, but he hadn’t started pulling it on yet when he went on, “I didn’t mean to have you quit.”
“Matt!” you groaned.
“You can’t come with me. I didn’t mean to make you to feel useless.”
“I’m a grown woman, and I make my own choices. Youdidn’tmake me feel or do anything–and I know I can’t go with you to punch Russians. I just wanted to do a little good for Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Youwere doing good for Hell’s Kitchen. With the Church.”
“Have to disagree with you there. And I’m not going back. You can’t make me. I want to experience the world. I want to helpyou.”
“I already said, you are not–“
“Iknow,” you interrupted. “There’s more to do than break people’s bodies, you know.”
Matt stared at you, or stared roughly in the direction he knew you continued to pull on various articles of clothing. Another sigh issued from there.
“When I got here last night to give you the news, you were bleeding and shaking from head to foot. There’s nothing to eat here but booze and bread. You can take care of yourself, but you’re not very good at looking afteryourself.”
He had never really thought about it that way. His work as Daredevil was vital; eating, less so. Matt already healed faster than most when he wasn’t busy deflowering ex-nuns, and what didn’t heal after that, he could plow through just fine. On the other hand…
“Are you inviting yourself to move in?” he asked.
There was an obvious smile in your voice when you answered, “Well, you are the reason I’m presently homeless and unemployed. If you hadn’t seduced me away from a life of worship and piety, I’d still be doing my holy work, Matt Murdock.”
“And you’re absolutely sure you’re done with being a nun.”
“I think what we did last night pretty much sealed the deal.”
“And there’d be more of that.”
“I’m leaning toward yes.”
“And you really want to live here. With me. With the giant blazing billboard right outside the window.”
He got a pillow to the face for his trouble, or would have, had he not caught it before it smacked him in the nose.
“Does it sound like I can afford to be picky about where I’m staying? I’m sure about all of the above. I can always move out once I find something else, if you decide you hate having me here.”
Your tone turned just a little uncertain at the end of that sentence. Matt stood and stepped carefully (in case of more pillows) over the smooth floor toward you.
“I won’t hate having you here,” he said. “Now that you mention it, it might be nice having someone here when I get home bleeding at two in the morning. To fuss over me and put me in place. When can you start?”
“Immediately.” You shoved something soft-ish into his chest. Pants, he realized as felt the hard button. “Now get dressed. It’s getting toward noon now and all that sex makes a girl hungry.”
“Right,” Matt said, and quickly started to pull on the pants.
Definitely the putting him in his place part, then. But maybe you were right. Maybe sometimes, the “Devil of Hell’s Kitchen” just needed a shoulder to lean on. He’d have to see, but he was leaning toward yes, too.
When Bruce woke up, he found someone in his bed. This wasn’t an altogether strange occurrence, but he was quite certain he had gone to bed alone four hours ago. Trying not to feel too concerned, he wiggled halfway out of the sheets before peeling those beside him back. He was surprised to find youcurled up in a ball halfway down the mattress.
Bruce frowned. Had he gone to bed alone the night before? Yes, he was sure he had. He’d been up with Tony until one working on some new clean-energy plans and had had no chance to call and see if you had made it home all right after dinner.
“Um, [Name]?” He nudged you softly with his hand.
The tiny ball simply shuddered slightly at his touch.
Bruce tried again. “[Name]?”
Your eyelids fluttered and a small groan worked its way free of your throat as you stretched yourself out of your fetal position.
“Five more minutes,” you mumbled as you flipped over.
Bruce shook your shoulder. “Is there any particular reason you’re asleep in my bed?“
You opened your eyes completely at that. They darted across the unfamiliar walls and ceiling. Then you looked at him, cheeks already much darker than normal.
“Oh, no,” you said.
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine!” You sat up and shuffled your feet across the carpet underneath the bed. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry, Bruce.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” You certainly weren’t acting like it. “Are you sick?”
“No! No, I’m not. I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“But why are you here?”
You looked at him. Bruce looked back. At last, you took a deep breath and answered:
“I…have a problem.” His eyebrows rose at that, so you continued, “It’s not a big deal. I just…sleepwalk…sometimes. I guess I was thinking about you so much that my legs took me here without me making them.”
“Ah,” Bruce said, as if that explained things.
The color in your cheeks deepened still further as you stood up. "I’m so sorry. I’ll go home now.“
But you didn’t get far before he took your wrist. "Look, you’re already here. I missed you, too. Besides, it’s dangerous to be wandering around at five in the morning in your pajamas. Why don’t you just stay the night–or day, as the case may be?”
You paused before turning your head slightly to look at him. Your cheeks were beginning to fade back to their original color. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
Bruce shifted to his side to allow you space to crawl back underneath the blanket. As you snuggled back into the sheet, he chuckled and shifted you so he could tuck you into his chest. Before you fell back to sleep, he planted a kiss behind your ear and whispered:
“And maybe if this is going to be a frequent problem, you should just move in.”
When you first met Dr. Bruce Banner, you’d hated his guts. Physicist work was your work at Stark Industries, and you didn’t appreciate his coming along to usurp your position–not that Tony noticed your obvious disdain when he shoved the other man into your workspace.
“Look, [Name]! I brought you a souvenir: a new partner!” Tony said.
You would have preferred a “My boss saved the world and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” t-shirt. Surely that was apparent in the way your lips curled as you shook Dr. Banner’s hand. Still, Tony just grinned, slapped the two of you on the backs, and left with a jaunty:
“You two kids play nice now!”
Needles to say, you did not play nice. You glowered and sulked and pouted and glared. Dr. Banner didn’t try to stop you. He just did his work in silence and only deigned to speak up when he needed help finding a tool.
Several weeks passed in the same manner before something strange happened, and it was something you never could quite figure out. Things between the two of you just seemed to…shift.
“What do you say we take a break and go get lunch?” Dr. Banner interrupted the quiet to ask.
You looked up from your holo-screen to scowl at him. “Why are you asking me?“
"Because you don’t do anything other than work. You seem lonely.”
Your eyes widened. Dr. Banner gazed at you calmly in return. Then you slammed your palms onto the table and left the room.
It bothered you that he noticed something so easily that you thought you had been hiding so well. You didn’t go back to work after your lunch break that day, but instead spent the rest of the afternoon grouching at home, ranting to your goldfish about how exactly much you hated Dr. Banner.
Time passed. Your rage faded slowly to embarrassment. You realized that you had been taking out your feelings of inadequacy on a man that had been nothing but polite to you.
“About that lunch,” you said the next day.
Dr. Banner looked away from his notes.
“I–I’m sorry I snapped at you. Maybe we could go today?”
Summary:When you got married, people warned you that you wouldn’t just be marrying your husband, you’d be marrying into his family. Too bad no one ever warned you you’d be marrying into his friendships, too.
Rating/Warnings: All (Post-Captain America: Civil War;Captain America: Civil War Compliant; Hurt!James “Rhodey” Rhodes; Married!James “Rhodey” Rhodes; Vitriolic Best Buds; Mild Swearing; Avengers Compound)
Challenge:“100 Little Drabbles” by Wingu on Lunaescence Archives
Notes: This is my first go at writing Rhodey outside of his occasional appearances in longer Tony-centric works. It’s long overdue, and I might have gone a little overboard with Tony just because I feel bad that I always focus on his friendship with Bruce instead.
Part of the Package Deal
Gravel crunched beneath your feet as you stepped of your sensibly-sized and -colored rental car onto the Avengers Compound’s sweeping grounds. Several huge buildings rose up around you high enough to block out the sun crawling westward toward the horizon. You pulled your sunglasses off to get a better look at your surroundings. So this was where Jim had been spending so much time for the past year. And how could you blame him? This place blew your modest home in Malibu out of the water.
No, no, no! Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head back and forth until it cleared of the usual Stark razzle-dazzle. You refused to let anything here impress you. Tony thought modern architecture and flashy tech were enough to make up for the fact you never heard about your husband unless he’d been involved in an accident? Well, not anymore.
With one sharp exhale, you squared your shoulders and snapped your attention to the nearby doors. According to the map you’d printed off the internet, these led into the living quarters for the Avengers. You took one handle and yanked to no avail. Locked. Yes, you decided as you took a step back to look for any obtrusive security cameras, you were definitely in the right place.
“Tony!” You banged on the glass. “Tony, let me in!”
Peering inside revealed nothing but an empty room filled with exercise equipment. You knocked again.
“Tony, I did not fly all the way here from California for you to ignore me!”
“Mr. Stark is currently tied up in other matters. May I have your name, please?”
The cool, Irish-accented voice of a woman seemed to come from nowhere. You jumped about a foot away from the door. A minute or two of pulse-pounding shock later, you realized this must be yet another of Tony’s AIs. What had happened to JARVIS, you wondered. He never had to ask for your name.
“Your [Name], please,” the new AI insisted.
“[F Name] Rhodes,” you answered as you stepped back to the door.
“I have no such name on the approved visitor list for today. Please contact our publicity office to arrange for an appointment at a later date. Goodbye.”
“Hold it!”
No reply came forth. For all the good it would do, you smashed your fist against the door once more. Then you held your breath. Still nothing moved behind the glass. Had Tony’s artificial bouncer really just left you here alone?
“Ma'am, I’m afraid that if you do not vacate the facility premises in the next ten minutes, I will be forced to call in the authorities.”
Apparently not.
“Listen,” you said, still unsure of exactly where to look to get your point across. “You tell Tony that [F Name] Rhodes is here. If he still won’t let me in, I’ll gladly talk to whatever authorities you’re required to summon. If he wants the extra publicity, I don’t mind giving it to him.”
The woman didn’t answer. You wondered again what had become of JARVIS. JARVIS knew you. He would never have left you standing outside, listening for the sound of approaching sirens or Iron Man drones. Heck, he’d probably have opened the door without waiting to get permission from his precious boss.
Movement flashed somewhere in the back of the room a quarter of an inch away from you. A figure made its rapid way in your direction. Soon it was close enough for you to identify: Tony Stark had made an appearance at last. He looked uncharacteristically pale as he unlocked the door and pushed it open to allow you inside.
“Where’s Jim?” you asked after you dumped your purse on a nearby plastic chair—the only flat surface you could fine that wasn’t tile floor.
“Hello to you, too, [Name],” Tony said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Don’t play dumb with me..”
“You’re a long way from California. It never occurred to you to callfirst?”
“The line was busy.” You folded your arms across your chest and asked again calmly, “Where’s Jim?”
Tony pushed his hair from his forehead with a sigh. You noticed he was having trouble meeting your eyes. “Resting.”
“Restingwhere?”
“Can we not do this right now? Let me show you to a room. We’ve got plenty available. When Rhodey’s ready, we’ll all have dinner together. I might even be able to dig Vision up from wherever he got to. We can talk then.”
Asthough Tony could weasel out of a conversation you wanted to have with him. You’d known him far too long for any of his usual stalling tactics to work.
“Tony, I’ll tell you this one time before I start pulling this place apart with my bare hands: Give me. My husband.”
Your eyes locked with his. A long pause ensued. You could practically see the gears (or suitably high-tech equivalent) turning inside Tony’s skull as he struggled to come with some comeback witty enough to distract you. Too late. Before he could utter another word, you turned on your heel to follow the dim hallway leading from the room.
“Wait!” he called after you.
You stopped and look at him over your shoulder.
“I…I can’t.”
“Why not?” You could barely keep the anger from your voice.
“Because he isn’t ready yet.”
“He isn’t ready for what?”
“Ready for you to see him!”
Gritting your teeth in a silent snarl, you marched right back up to Tony and jabbed a finger into his chest where his arc reactor used to sit. “You have no right to keep me from him.”
“I know.” He took the hand still prodding him, but instead of shoving it away, he wrapped his own hand around yours. “[Name], I promise, as soon as he’s okay, I’ll take you right to him.”
“‘Okay’? ’Okay’? Why is he not okay? Did something else happen to him?”
“No, not exactly.”
“What is he doing here anyway? He should be at the VA!”
“Trust me. This the best place for him. I’ve got one of the best neurosurgeons in the country on speed dial. Admittedly not the best, because he wouldn’t take my calls—but this one is excellent, too, and she’s keeping a good eye on him! I’m doing the best with what I’ve got, all right?”
He probably thought you’d drop the point of your husband being kept at Avengers HQ instead of a medical facility. After all, Tony was the man that built the greatest technical innovation the world had seen in decades while being kept prisoner in a cave with a box of scraps. But this wasn’t the fate of Tony’s reputation or his company at stake here. It was the man you loved’s life.
“Not good enough,” you said.
Tony pulled you back as you attempted a second break for the hall. “[Name], would you listen to me? Rhodey is as physically and emotionally fine as he can be. All I’m asking for is a little more time.”
Something about that request broke the dam inside you. Every horrible feeling you had experienced over the last few days crashed over you—the fear, the anger, the stress, the worry, all of it. Despite your best efforts to keep yourself upright and strong, tears filled your eyes. You ripped your arm free of Tony’s grip so that you could wipe your face dry with your sleeve and level a dry glare at him.
“I have given you time, Tony. It’s been days. I should have heard it from you, not from CNN.”
“I admit, when you put it that way, I could probably have handled the reveal a bit better.”
“How do you think I feel, knowing Jim is out there putting his life on the line for you, only to hear he’s been seriously injured while I’m listening to the news over dinner?”
“Things have just been a little hectic around here since Steve decided to play Dirty Harry, okay? I swear, I was going to call you just as soon as—”
“As soon as what? I am his wife, Tony! I deserve—”
“[Name]?”
Both you and Tony looked toward the hall to see a familiar man creeping up it, his hands pressed against the white wall to help him stand.
“Jim!” you gasped at the exact same time that Tony said, “Rhodey?”
For one shining moment, you remained so stunned to see your husband again that you failed to notice anything different about him. All you could do was stare at him in happy wonder—until he reached the end of the wall and nearly tumbled to the floor without further support. He would have fallen, had Tony not been quick enough to see what was happening and leap to fill the place the wall once had.
“Thanks,” Jim said.
“Don’t mention it. What are you doing out of bed?”
The two of them made their slow, staggering way across the room. You watched with one hand over your mouth. Could this really be the same man that had stood at the end of the aisle at your wedding? He looked the same and sounded the same, but, oh, Jim. Thankfully, you noticed where the men were headed before you gave yourself over to more tears. Your purse was unceremoniously dumped to the floor just as Jim collapsed into it. A few seconds went by as he caught his breath.
“I thought I heard the two of you arguing,” he answered Tony at last.
“We weren't—” But the cutting look you shot Tony prevented him finishing his protest.
“Sure,” Jim said, then he looked at you. “When did you get here?”
“About fifteen minutes ago,” you replied.
“Well, it’s good to see you. I was beginning to wonder when Tony would allow me to have visitors.”
“He didn’t.”
Jim frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m only here because I found out what happened on the news. Tony has nothing to do with it.”
“Oh.Oh. I’m sorry, [Name]. I should have called you. Between the media blitz and all the physical therapy, it never even crossed my mind.”
You put your hand gingerly on his shoulder and were relieved that he didn’t collapse under the added weight. “It’s okay, Jim. I don’t blame you for my finding out this way.”
“It isn’t Tony’s fault.”
You snorted, causing Jim’s faint eyebrows to lift.
“It’s not.”
“Jim.” Now your hand moved to cup his cheek. “This happened because you were cleaning up one of Tony’s messes again.”
Admittedly, you didn’t have all the details lined up just yet. One never could trust the news to tell the whole or entire truth about something, but this fiasco smelled strongly of one of Tony’s harebrained world-protection schemes. His role in keeping Jim away from for months at a time was a well-worn subject of argument between you and your husband; bringing it up now when Jim was so weak wasn’t exactly fair. But you couldn’t stand seeing him like this, and the knowledge that Tony had something to do with his injuries again only aggravated you further.
“I swear, you got hurt less often back when you only worked for the Air Force,” you said throatily.
Jim pressed one of his hands over the one you had on his face, then waited to speak until you could control yourself enough to look him in the eye:
“[Name], you know I make my own decisions.”
“And those decisions change if you think Tony’s going to get himself killed,” you grumbled.
“And you know I’m willing to call Tony out when I think he’s being an idiot.”
“Which doesn’t matter when he doesn’t listen.”
“And you knew that when you and I got married, Tony was part of that package deal.”
Another glare in Tony’s direction met with an odd expression on his part. Before it had felt like he couldn’t look straight at you. Now it felt like he’d forgotten you were even there, so focused was he on Jim. Could that be guilt you read on Tony’s face? Surely not. You turned back to your husband with a sharp breath.
“At the time, I didn’t realize the deal would involve so much of you two flying around in metal suits.”
Jim let out a soft, low chuckle. His eyelids slid shut. When he dropped his arm to his side, you reluctantly pulled your hand away from him. Tony knelt beside him to put his hand on the shoulder you had so recently held.
“You had a rough morning. You should be in bed,” he said.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Jim tried to wave him off, but Tony stayed put.
“I mean it. You want to backslide? All that progress we made this morning? Gone, because your stubborn ass has to come running whenever I get in a fight.”
“You’re not in any condition to go toe to toe with [Name] right now.”
“When am I ever?”
The two of them grinned at each other in that infuriating way that only a couple of guys making a private joke could. Seeing as you were the butt of that private joke, you did not crack a smile. You allowed them to continue smiling, though, until their little “bromance” moment stretched on a little too long. Both men started when you cleared throat. Maybe they had forgotten you were still standing there with your arms crossed over your chest.
“And what, exactly, about this morning was so rough?” you asked frostily.
The look Jim and Tony exchanged that time was different—more raised eyebrows and frowning—but equally infuriating.
“What aren’t you telling me?” This question you directed at your husband. “I came out all this way to find out what’s been going on, so one of you had better spit it out.”
“Or what?” asked Tony.
“Tony, I think she’s serious,” Jim said.
“So am I. Is not knowing really grounds for a divorce? I’m just weighing our options here.”
With an aggrieved sigh, Jim shoved Tony out of his immediate personal bubble. Tony must not have wanted to keep their shared secret too badly, because he did nothing to prevent Jim from taking a deep breath and saying:
“Tony’s got me doing some…experimental physical therapy.”
Well,that wasn’t a comforting explanation. “So you’re a physical therapist now?” you asked.
“Among other things,” Tony said.
“Look.”
You could not ignore Jim’s soft request. Instead of firing back at Tony as you so badly wanted to, you returned your attention to your husband. He tapped at a glowing blue circle about halfway down his thigh. From that light sprouted a complicated system of pulleys and joints and even more lights that sprawled across Jim’s legs and hips. So eager had you been to see him alive and moving that you hadn’t even noticed this addition to his body.
“Tony made these for me,” he said. “Without them, I wouldn’t be able to walk at all.”
Your mouth opened. Your mouth closed. Again. Again. Again. Still unable to think of any way to express your thoughts on the matter, you raised your head to look at Tony. You were surprised to find his brown eyes shining when they met your gaze.
“We’re still working out the kinks. Rhodey is—” Tony coughed a few times, then went on, “Rhodey is amazing. He’s doing great. Really great. I’m just trying to get the braces up to his speed.”
“We’re both getting there. Together.”
Tony shook his head, unwilling to accept Jim’s encouragement. His eyes and yours were trained on each other like magnets. “You weren’t supposed to show up until he was perfect. That’s why I didn’t call. I wanted to give him back to you good as new.”
“Tony…” Jim began, but once more Tony waved him off.
“I owe you both at least that much.”
Neither you nor Tony seemed able to figure out what to say to each other after that. At least you finally managed to break eye contact. He looked back at Jim, tried to smile, failed, and awkwardly stuck his hands in the front pockets of his pants. You turned your head to blink rapidly at the wall, cleared your throat again, and tried not to cry. After struggling to find words to say to Tony for another minute or so, you gave up and went back to Jim instead.
“You really think this is what you need? Not rehab at an actual hospital?” you asked.
He didn’t miss a beat. “I trust Tony. This is what I want to do.”
Normally, Tony would have taken this compliment and rubbed it in your face until it ground to dust. That day he didn’t react at all. Didn’t blink. Didn’t grin. Didn’t so much as offer a single quip. He seemed to be waiting for you to make the next move. His behavior threw you off, and the more you thought about it, the more you realized just how little Tony was acting like himself at all. The whole catastrophe with Steve—and Jim’s injury—must have really rattled him.
Then it hit you: Jim wasn’t just staying here for his own sake; he could never be that selfish. Tony needed Jim just then just as badly as Jim needed Tony. You couldn’t tear him away.
“Fine,” you said.
“Fine?” Tony echoed.
“What’s fine?” Jim asked.
“You can stay. I won’t drag you off to the nearest VA like I was planning to.”
“You won’t?” A hopeful note crept into Tony’s voice.
“Really?” said Jim.
“Really,” you answered.
They both cheered. If you’d given them the time, you suspected they might have actually embraced. You did not give them the time, however. Tony could change his mind just as quickly as you, so you needed to get things arranged as soon as possible. Neither he nor Jim noticed you taking a step away from them, but they couldn’t fail to hear you say:
“Just let me go get my bags out of the car.”
You made a beeline for the door you’d come through before either of them could register what you said. Such ringing silence could not last. No sooner had you placed your hand on the door handle than did Tony shake off the lingering shock.
“Wait. No one said anything about you staying,” he said as he came after you. “No, no. This is a secure facility! I’m sure we can find you a nice hotel nearby if you really feel you need to—”
“Tony,” said Jim.
“She’s not an Avenger!”
“Yeah, and neither are we much these days.”
Then Jim tried to get to his feet. It looked more to you like he was having a seizure. His feet scuffed against the floor while his fingers grasped the edge of the chair he sat on. Very slowly and very arduously, he finally managed to stand. You held everything you had inside you very, very still to prevent yourself from running over to him and helping him over to Tony’s side. He got there all on his own several agonizing minutes later. There he clapped Tony on the shoulder and shot him a tired smile.
“Besides, you knew when [Name] and I got married, she’d always be part of the package deal,” he said.
Tony’s lips pursed together at that. They squirmed for a long time. At last, without bothering to so much as look in your direction, he said, “Fine. She can stay.”
“Thanks, Tony.”
“But you have to say in the wing where we house the orphaned SHIELD agents!” Tony’s call followed you out of the compound and back onto the lot where your rental car sat waiting.
“Tony—” Jim began in a warning tone.
The door shutting behind you prevented you from hearing the quarrel that surely followed. Those two were always like that, especially when it came to you. As you hefted your two suitcases from the car’s trunk, though, you found you didn’t care. You didn’t care about having to listen to Jim and Tony argue until they were blue in the faces or drunk. You didn’t care about the fights you and Tony would get into when he inevitably got bored and started picking on you. You didn’t even care that it looked as though you and your husband would not be returning to your home in California soon or ever at all.
No, all you felt in that moment was grateful. Tony Stark might have put a lot of stock into the work of his own hands, modern architecture, and flashy tech—but he put more stock into his friendship with you and with Jim.
Summary:Natasha tends gets her way, if not always in the way that she expects.
Rating/Warnings: All (song lyrics as dialogue; Song Challenge; Post-Avengers (2012); SHIELD Agent!Reader; Avenger!Reade; Some Crack; Pre-Iron Man 3; Avengers Tower; absent!Thor)
Request: “Can I […] ask for a Bruce Banner fanfic? I was also wondering if y/n could just be a shield agent doing a singing challenge with co-workers and end up doing Banner (I like to think it’s overwhembled /the Ryan Mack Remix/) and he’s all smitten and in love. Pretty much fluff. Thanks. […] y/n is a really good singer and suggests them and their co-workers play a game, which y/n will summarize the avengers personality/love life/ whatever with a song.”
Notes: Credit is given for the music within the work. Also, I must give a shout-out to my best friend IRL for coming up with the ending to this one shot back when I first mentioned what I was working on to her.
Silent No More
Silence had a funny way of turning the most mundane of tasks into an arduous affair. It could do so in more than one way, too. You could endure the thin, anxious silence waiting for the signal to begin acting out a mission. You could handle the heavy, poignant silence at the other end of a phone line when you called a family to inform them a fellow agent had died in the line of duty. But by far the hardest silence to sit through was standing alone in an elevator with your boss while he studiously typed out messages to someone else all the way down.
When the silver doors finally slid open to reveal Avengers Towers common area, you sucked in an enormous breath. Unstifled air at last! But you could not enjoy it for long. Director Fury stepped out onto the tile alongside you with his black coat billowing at his ankles. You struggled to match his long strides as you both headed in the direction of the second lift at the other end of the wide room. Whatever he and Maria were talking about must have been important; he still hadn’t said a single word since you left the interview. Had you screwed things up? Should you bring the question up yourself, or wait for him to start the lecture?
“[Name]!”
A familiar voice forced you to turn before either you or Director Fury reached the elevator to the main lobby. There at the kitchen table sat your close friend, Natasha Romanoff, and fellow SHIELD agent Clint Barton. Behind them in the kitchen itself stood another familiar figure: Bruce Banner, who seemed determined to pretend no one else was anywhere nearby.
Natasha caught your eye and waved you over. You shot Director Fury a questioning look. He was still, for all intents and purposes, your boss, as well as your ride home for the evening. Without even looking up from his communicator, he nodded.
“So, how did it go?” she asked upon your approach.
“Fine,” you answered.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I got the job.”
She and Clint clapped enthusiastically. Maybe it was lingering anxiety from being trapped in a room for an hour while Director Fury, Steve Rogers, and Tony Stark shot questions at you, but their celebratory gesture only made your face grow warm. Then Natasha made things worse by kicking the chair across from her out from under the table and pointing imperiously at the empty seat.
“Sit,” she said.
So used to following her orders were you that you sat without a second thought. From that angle, you had a good view of Bruce’s wide shoulders straining a little against the fabric of his purple shirt. The scent of hot milk and spices rose from whatever he had on the stove; you wondered if he was making tea.
Natasha cleared her throat. Starting, you returned your attention to her—but that didn’t convince her it had always been there. Her green eyes slid knowingly in Bruce’s direction and back to your face. Her smile grew as she pushed an upside-down baseball cap across the table to you. It rustled strangely as it moved, and the reason soon became clear: A number of folded paper slips sat inside.
“Welcome to the team,” she said. “I hope you didn’t think this would get you out of our little game.”
Horrified, you gazed down at the hat. All of the papers inside seemed to writhe around like venomous snakes. Though Clint had not spoken a single word since your arrival, you could see him smirking over the lip of his coffee mug. You knew exactly what he found so amusing, too: The vague warmth against the back of your head told you that Director Fury had followed you to the table—and he was probably still busy talking to Maria. That wouldn’t mean he wasn’t keeping track of your conversation, though; the World Security Council did not pay him to be unobservant.
Did Natasha, your so-called “friend,” have any sympathy for your plight? Of course she didn’t. She just jostled that hat by its brim and reminded you, “This whole thing was youridea.”
“I know,” you moaned.
“So what’s the hold up?”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
You couldn’t help stealing another glance at the back of Bruce’s dark curly head. Was he listening in? How could he not? Nothing else was going on in the common area, and making tea didn’t cause a lot of noise.
“Before I joined the Avengers,” you answered in an undertone.
“Oh, but I have to play? I’ve been an Avenger from the beginning.”
“Then let’s call the whole thing off. I’ll just see you guys tomorrow, shall—”
As you stood to beat a hasty retreat, Clint grabbed your elbow and pulled you back into your chair. “Nice try, [Name].”
“You aren’t chickening out of this now,” said Natasha. “Not after I’ve already completed one round.”
“What? Who did you get?” you demanded.
Clint raised the hand that gripped you into the air.
“That’s not fair. How did you draw your best friend right off the bat? Did she even really sing to you?” you asked Clint.
“Of course she did. Why would I lie about a thing like that?” he asked you in return.
“Because, as previously stated, you’re her best friend.”
“I am shocked and appalled you think I’m capable of such outright dishonesty with such meager motivation.”
“Prove it then. What song did she sing to you?”
Clint opened his mouth, but Natasha put a hand on his shoulder. He grinned, drained the last of whatever was in his cup, and set it down on the table with an exaggerated smack of his lips.
“Sorry, [Name].” He didn’t sound it. “My lips are sealed. Natasha swore me to secrecy, and you know how thatgoes.”
You sure did, and knowing made you all the more suspicious. Clint and Natasha often acted as a unit. What she wanted, she usually got. If she needed help from her partner in crime, you hadn’t come across a situation yet where he refused to help her. Huffing, you threw yourself back against your chair and crossed your arms over your chest.
“I don’t believe either of you.”
These words bothered Natasha not at all. With a flourish, she pulled her cell phone out, shaking it a little so that its glassy screen caught the lights above your heads. “That’s okay. I’ve got video proof. Oh, I don’t think so,” she added when you made a futile grab for the phone. “You can see the recording after you wrap up yourassignment.”
Unconvinced, you looked again at Clint. He might have been willing to do just about anything for Natasha, but lying was not one of those things. Not in circumstances where no one’s life was in danger, at least.
“Itwas a pretty spectacular show,” he said.
You threw your hands into the air. “Ugh! Fine! Give me the hat.”
She held it out again. You plunged your hand into the waiting pool of slips before you could change your mind. Maybe you’d get lucky. Maybe you’d pick some guy assigned to Helicarrier duty for the next three months. Maybe you'd—
“Oh, that’s perfect!” Natasha said.
The paper unfolded read “Bruce Banner.”
“Yourigged this.” You leveled your deadliest glare at her, the one that occasionally caused hardened terrorists to drop their weapons without firing at your team. “I don’t know how you rigged this, but this is all your doing.”
“Don’t be a spoil sport, [Name]. Director, why don’t you go ahead and draw your assignment now?”
She thrust the hat up toward your heretofore wordless boss. When you twisted in your seat, you saw him stop rattling away on his communicator just long enough to look from the hat to Natasha’s face.
“Don’t make me fire you, Agent Romanoff,” he said.
“That’s all right.” She cheerfully sat the hat down at her elbow. “I’ll use that sleight of hand [Name] has accused me of to make sure no one gets to Tony’s slip before you.”
“Hey. What are you guys up to?” asked a new voice.
All four of you slowly moved your heads to see Bruce standing nearby. He had one hand in his pocket; the other held a steaming mug.
“Nothing,” Natasha said with a radiant smile.
“Nothing you’d be interested in,” Clint added.
“Nothing you need to be involved in, Dr. Banner,” said Director Fury. “With the only person capable of wrestling the Hulk into submission still in Asgard, I’d prefer you to keep your stress levels at a minimum.”
A brief pause followed this suggestion. Bruce licked his lips. You watched a faint line on his forehead deepen for a moment. Then the line vanished to be replaced by a thin smile.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll just go see if Tony wants any help in the lab today. Congratulations on making the team, [Name]. Or maybe I should offer you my condolences?”
With that, he took his tea and shuffled off to the elevator you and Director Fury had vacated. Only after he disappeared behind the metal doors did the rest of your group relax.
“That was close,” said Clint.
“Very,” Fury agreed.
The rapid key tapping resumed. Natasha got up from the table to do something in the kitchen. Clint slurped at the nothing that remained in his cup. You, on the other hand, stared wordlessly at the paper clenched between your hands. Keeping Bruce in the dark was part of the game. He couldn’t know what was going on until you revealed it all to him. Had it been your imagination that he looked hurt over being told to stay out of it? Director Fury, at least, sounded awfully sincere about wanting Bruce to avoid all stress.
******
The first steps you took into your new home later that week hardly gave you the opportunity to get a good look at your surroundings. All you could tell was that they were big. As far a cry from D.C. as Manhattan was to begin with, your floor on Avengers Tower could not have been more different than the studio apartment you’d left behind.
Figures filled and moved throughout the area, providing even more distraction. As you and Natasha strode through the lobby of your home, arms laden with moving boxes, a platoon of Iron Man suits kept busy moving, adjusting, unpacking, disposing. And at the center of all this stood Tony Stark himself.
“How much more you got left, [Name]?” he asked as you neared his station in the living room. “Not that these guys need lunch, but I sure could use a break.”
“Why don’t you come downstairs and take a look yourself? We’d get it done faster if one of us wasn’t hanging out up here doing nothing,” Natasha said.
Tony looked affronted. “Nothing? Nothing? If I leave my post, who’s going to supervise this lot? You guys don’t have the control chip installed.”
“They could alsohelp unload the truck.”
“Nope. Sorry. No can do. These boys need to be kept on the D.L. until I’ve got all the kinks worked out.”
“Kinks?” you asked. “What kinks?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. All I’m saying is, I bring them outside just in time for the delivery kid to show up, and bam! One YouTube video later, the whole world knows what I'm—Hey! Mk. XXIV! Don’t you dare drop that! Don’t you—What did I justsay?”
A tremendous crashing sound caused the floor to shake.
“No kinks to worry about?” Natasha asked.
“Hold that thought,” Tony said as he stepped around you both and headed back the way you’d come. “Do you want to join DUM-E in the basement? So help me God, I’ll put you on mopping duty if that’s what you’re after!”
“Please tell me that wasn’t my grandmother’s china cabinet,” you said.
Natasha looked over her shoulder at the mess for you. “Doesn’t look like it. Looks like it might have been the coffee table Tony already put up here.”
“Thank God. I don’t have enough furniture to fill this place up as it is.”
“Lucky for you it comes pre-furnished.” Something behind you made a horrible, sharp squealing noise. Tony’s frustrated shouting resumed. “So long as Tony gets his Iron Legion under control.”
“Maybe we should take my dinnerware to a safer location.”
“Good idea.”
The sounds of groaning and crunching faded as you and Natasha slipped into your floor’s private kitchen. None of the drones had come that far back yet. In your hands you carried the first box of cookware. You slid it onto the waiting bar counter, tore it open, and began to pull out drinking glasses before any Iron Legion members could come in and break these as well.
“So,” Natasha said, setting down her own box next to yours. You liked her tone not at all.
“So what?”
“How’s the Song Challenge coming along? Have you picked something for Bruce yet?”
Of course that would be what was on her mind. Ever since she’d read the name on the slip you drew, Natasha had inundated you with texts, voicemails, and video calls about your plan. She seemed to think this was your big chance to show Bruce how you felt about him instead of what it really was: Your big chance to embarrass him and yourself in front of all his coworkers, irrevocably ruining any kind thoughts he had toward you.
“I don’t know if you missed the memo, Nat,” you had to stand on your tiptoes to reach the shelf you wanted, “but I’ve been a little busy this week packing my entire life into numerous boxes.”
“Exactly my point. Plenty of time for you to think. I’ve already wrapped up assignment number two.”
“What? Who did you get for that one?”
More importantly, when did she find the time? Apocalypse-level threats to Earth did not arise every single day, but surely the Avengers kept themselves busy. Why else hire on a seventh member?
Someone from over by the doorway cleared their throat. At first they appeared to be a tower of cardboard boxes on two thick legs. Then the someone stepped into the room and carefully dropped the boxes onto the empty kitchen table. Steve looked a little embarrassed, and it didn’t take long for you to figure out why.
“Speak of the Devil,” Natasha said with a grin.
You glared at her. “Seriously? Steve? You got Steve, and you’ve already sung to him.”
“I’ll have everyone else taken care of, too, at the rate you’re going. Don’t spend long on your break, Steve. And don’t tell her anything.”
With this final warning ringing in the air, she slid around Steve and out into the hall. You tore open the box containing your cutlery. What else could you do? Having worked occasionally with the Avengers as a SHIELD agent didn’t mean you had any clue how to act alone around Captain America.
“If it helps,” he said into the awkward silence, “she isn’t lying.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve got any proof of that.”
Steve shook his head. “You heard her. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and find out my social security number doesn’t exist anymore. I can’t imagine you want that either.”
“I guess not,” you admitted grudgingly. Steve, at least, could probably get his identity back. Seeing as you didn’t so much as have a code name yet, Natasha could wreak much more havoc on your life if she chose to do so.
“But [Name].”
You looked at him.
“I always tell the truth.”
It would have been impossible to disbelieve him anyway when he furrowed his brows and filled his blue eyes with sincerity like that. Even if hugely muscled, all-American soldiers weren’t your type, Steve looked so handsome and earnest just then that you couldn’t even muster up an eye roll. All you could do was say:
“Right.”
Natashahad told him to not be take much time talking to you; she wouldn’t wait long before she came back to double-check he wasn’t spilling the beans about her song routine. You expected him to leave once you turned your back to fill an open drawer with silverware. Instead, when you went to retrieve a handful of spoons, you found him a few feet away loading plates into a cabinet.
“So, you’re having trouble coming up with something for Dr. Banner?” he asked.
“Er…yeah.” So surprised were you that Steve could speak to you like a normal human being that it took a second or two of staring before you remembered you were supposed to be unpacking. “I know he’ll probably hate the attention either way, but I want to pick something he’ll like—or at least something that won’t embarrass him too badly.”
“Want some help?”
“No thanks. I’ll think of something. I’m not sure that anything from the 1930s would be appropriate for Bruce.”
Steve did not deny listening exclusively to music from his own time period unless Tony forced him to do otherwise. “Well, if you change your mind?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“You’ll think of something good. I think it will be good for Dr. Banner to get a little positive attention.”
“No pressure, right?”
“I didn’t say that to pressure you. For what it’s worth—”
Cardboard scraping against cardboard cut through whatever he intended to say. Speak of the Devil was right! Behind the new boxes stood Bruce of all people. His dark eyes moved between your and Steve’s faces. He, Bruce, seemed to realize he had walked in the middle of something, because he licked his lips and forced a smile, an expression of his you were rapidly growing accustom to.
“Sorry,” he said. “I only managed to carry a couple of boxes up.”
“Every little bit helps,” Steve assured him, but Bruce continued to fidget with his hands.
“The Hulk could probably get the whole truck up here in one go, but—”
“He’d wind up smashing everything to pieces. Better not risk it.”
Color crept into Bruce’s cheeks. “That’s what I was getting at.”
Poor Bruce. He looked so uncomfortable. If only you could say something to crack the sudden tension that filled the kitchen. But what could you say? You got only as far as opening your mouth when he turned, shoulders hunched, to leave the room.
“I’d best get back down there and grab a few more things,” he said. “Can’t have puny Banner failing to pull his own weight, right?”
“Dr. Banner,” Steve began, but Bruce did not pause in his retreat. “Dr. Banner!”
“Bruce? What’s up?” you heard Tony ask from the other room. If Bruce gave him an answer, you didn’t hear it.
Steve let out a sharp sigh.
“I should go apologize. That was out of line. Natasha’s probably looking for me anyway. You good in here alone?”
You nodded as you tore into one of the boxes Bruce brought up. The only current threat nearby was to your material possessions, not to your physical well-being. Nothing more needed to be said after Steve ducked out. If you’d tried to speak, you’d probably have told Captain America that he ought to apologize, and you couldn’t say that to your new boss. Actually, Bruce probably deserved an apology from you as well, assuming he’d heard any part of your conversation with Steve. Maybe you should head down to the lobby, too…
Crash! Bang! Screech!
“Are you kidding me?” Tony cried.
On second thought, your things might be safer if you stayed right where you were.
******
Tonydid eventually get his drones to do the jobs he wanted them to do. Unpacking your things became significantly easier after that. In fact, he even got them to put several items of furniture that they had broken back together. Your bookshelves almost looked as good as new—not that you had time to look for obvious cracks when Steve assigned you to training with different team members every day of the remaining week. With so few actual missions on the schedule, it was no wonder Natasha could spend all that time shuttling back and forth between Avengers Tower and SHIELD HQ for the Song Challenge! Meanwhile, the rest of the team kept you so busy you hardly had five minutes to yourself to think of anything for your onechallenge.
Friday afternoon provided you the first free hour of time since you’d settled in. Showered and aching, you headed down to the common floor with the hope of overhearing something about Natasha’s efforts. The hope was slim; she had everyone terrified into silence. You stepped into the room to find her, Clint, and Steve crowded around Tony on the sofa. Tony was holding up his cell phone, and from its speakers blared music and the unmistakable sound of Natasha’s singing voice.
The very second the lift doors closed behind you, all four of them looked up. Tony turn off his phone and slipped into his pocket right away. You scowled as you stalked over to collapse on the armchair near them.
“Don’t let me stop you from having a good time,” you said.
“You’re not,” said Tony.
“You’re giving Natasha an excuse to snap our necks,” said Clint.
The woman in question gave Clint a playful smack on the back of his head. He smiled at her.
“Get a room,” you muttered, sliding further into your chair.
“Aw, what’s the matter? Still having trouble with your Song Challenge?” Natasha hopped up from her seat only to come perch on one of your chair arms. The withering look you sent her again had no effect on her.
“Mine is going fine, thank you for asking.”
“Hey, there’s no shame in admitting defeat,” Clint said.
“You don’t know Bruce as well as we do,” Tony put in. “Maybe you should call it quits and see if Romanoff will give you someone else. Someone…simpler?”
“You’re the simplest person around here to understand,” Steve said.
“I only keep things simple for you Cap. We all realize your primitive mind can’t grasp our modern-day nuances.”
“If this is a simpleness competition, I think [Name] wins,” said Clint. “She can’t even think of one song and dance routine to perform for Bruce, and Natasha’s already finished four.”
“Makes you wonder if she’s cut out for the Avengers,” Natasha agreed.
“Oh, shut up.” You knew you sounded sour, but did she have to rub it in? “Anyway, Barton, I don’t know where you get off nagging me. Your deadline is up tomorrow.”
He flicked his hand dismissively. “I took care of Maria on Tuesday.”
This news caused you to bury your face in your hands in frustration. “Is everyone going to beat me to the punch? This whole thing was myidea!”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, but your work on this is not going to reflect well upon you in your next employee review,” Tony said, then added when you lifted your face to glower at him, “We’re teasing you, [Name]. You’re one of us now. You’d better get used to it.”
A quiet whoosh announced yet another addition to the group. Out of the elevator slouched Bruce. He took one look at you all gathered there without him, most everyone smiling, and then quickly looked away. You noticed that Tony’s eyes followed Bruce’s circuitous route around the sitting room into the kitchen just as yours did. There Bruce opened the refrigerator and stuck his head inside it without so much as greeting anyone sitting there a few feet away.
When you looked again at Tony, he smirked. That you found odd—or did, until he called:
“Hey, Bruce. Why don’t you quit hiding in the fridge over there and join us?”
He pulled his head free only far enough that he could see you all. “Huh?”
“There’s room on the couch.” Tony waved Bruce over. “Or [Name]’s other chair arm is free. You could get to know her, since you’ve been avoiding all your training exercises with her.”
That explained why you still hadn’t had gone any rounds with Bruce in the gym upstairs. Why would he avoid you? You tried to surreptitiously give him a good once-over, as though you could glean why he had such an aversion to spending time with you specifically with just a glance. He caught your eye as you did and hastily twisted around so he could hold out his hands, fingers spread wide in front of him.
“That’s okay. You guys look cozy. I’ll just make some tea and be on my way,” he said.
“You could make tea on your own floor if you wanted to be antisocial. Come on. Sit.”
“Ireally don’t think that’s at all advisable.”
“Sit! Sit! Sit!” Clint started to chant.
“Sit! Sit! Sit!” Natasha joined in.
It didn’t take long for Tony to take up the words himself. Only you and Steve remained silent, and the latter not for long as you watched Bruce try and fail several time to interrupt their chorus, Steve lifted his own hands to his shoulders. His glare succeed in shutting every single one of them, even Tony.
“There’s no need to heckle Dr. Banner,” Steve said. “If he doesn’t want to be around us, he doesn’t have to be.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to be around you guys,” Bruce mumbled.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to us. Trust me, I know how stressful talking to Tony for any length of time can be.”
“Hey! I resemble that remark,” said Tony.
Steve shot him another withering look, then returned his attention to Bruce. “If you ever feel like we get to be too much, leave the room. No one will think any less of you. It’s safer for all of us if you don’t have the temptation to turn.”
“Cap,” Tony began, but his warning tone went nowhere. Bruce broke in by snapping the refrigerator shut behind.
“Yeah, I think I get the gist,” he said.
After that, Bruce tried to make back to the lift. He didn’t notice you standing so abruptly that you nearly knocked Natasha off her perch. He didn’t see you running to intercept him. But he did see you once you stood blocking his path, and he immediately came to a halt.
“[Name]?” he asked, brown eyes wide.
You could feel everyone else’s wide eyes riveted on you as well. Part of you thought things might go smoother for your integration into the team if you did nothing more than apologize to Bruce for making him uncomfortable and sit back down. If you did that, however, you’d never hear the end of it. Tony probably would bring your failure to complete your own challenge up on your employee review just for kicks. Besides, you got the feeling that if you let Bruce vanish on you now, you’d never get another opportunity to show him what you’d thought up.
“Are you all right?” Bruce prompted you, after a good half a minute passed without you saying anything.
To answer his question, you took a deep breath. He looked as though he was going to ask again, so you cut him off by starting to sing:
“I get overwhelmed so easily. My anxiety creeps inside of me, makes it so hard to breathe.”
No, your voice was too quiet. Could the man in front of you hear you? All he was doing was frowning at you still. You continued on with the song, growing a little louder with each line until you reached the first verse at full volume:
“But these doubts are haunting me. Oh, why’s it always right before I fall asleep that—”
“JAR?” Tony said. “Play Overwhelmed by Ryan Mack through the speakers. And rip out the voice track!”
“Of course, sir.”
You dove into the chorus as the music swelled around you. Bruce’s frown slowly faded away. Now he looked incredulous. Probably he could not believe he’d entered a universe in which his new coworker would just belt out a song to him in front of all his friends and other coworkers. Would you let that deter you? Not now. In fact, the musical accompaniment gave you the courage to dance along. Your moves were nothing compared to what you figured Natasha’s were, but at least you weren’t just standing there doing nothing anymore.
“I get over…well, well, well, would you look at that? Another person telling me to just ‘relax.’ ‘Calm down and take it easy. Everything will be okay.’ Yeah, sure.”
The astonishment on Bruce’s face twisted into an enormous grin, and he didn’t stop smiling for the rest of your song. All the while, the rest of the Avengers clapped along to the beat piping in from the ceiling.
“I get overwhelmed!”
A brief pause followed this conclusion. Then the group in the living room burst into applause. You couldn’t have cared less about their reaction either way. The only person’s you did care about was Bruce’s. He still hadn’t stopped smiling.
“Isthis what Natasha’s been doing all week that everyone’s being so secretive about?” he asked.
“Yes,” you said, then hastened to explain, “It was my idea. We’re all supposed to draw someone’s name out of a hat and pick a song to sing to them that summarizes them.”
“And you just had to go and draw my name.”
“No! I wanted you. Natasha probably made sure I did. I—I think you’re really sweet, Bruce. I realize this might not be the best way to tell you that, though.”
“No, it was. I loved it.”
You gaped at him. “You did?”
“Yeah. It was perfect. Maybe after training sometime, you and I could—”
All the lights on the floor went out.
“Very funny, Tony,” Bruce said.
“It’s not me,” Tony replied. “JARVIS? Lights, please!”
JARVIS did not respond. The only light came now from the button glowing beside the lift down to the tower’s lower floors. Bruce took your hands in his, presumably to shove you behind him if it came down to a fight. You held your breath until the elevator doors slid open to reveal a shadowed figure that stepped out onto the floor.
“Hey, buddy. Bad call breaking into this place,” Clint said.
A spotlight cut through the darkness. You could not make out who the person was at this distance, only that their clothing sparkled. Ominous music began to fill the room.
“You think you came up with piping in your own background music?” Tony said. “Come back when you’ve got something more original.”
The figure said nothing as it drew closer and closer to the Avengers. Multicolored lights swarmed suddenly across everyone’s faces. Whoever it was struck a pose only a few feet from the couch, and it hit you: It was Director Fury, wearing the same outfit he normally did but with glitter covering his trench coat and eye patch. He launched into his own song:
“Make his fight on the hill in the early day, constant chill deep inside.”
“What the hell?” you heard several of those gathered say. Their confusion did not prevent Director Fury from dancing his way right up to a stunned Tony Stark.
“For whom the bell tolls, time marches on. Sing it!”
Slack jawed, Tony did not blink at all between that moment and the end of Director Fury’s performance. No, it was more than that: Tony didn’t move. No one did. By the time the last notes of Metallica’s For Whom the Bell Tolls faded into nothingness and all the lights flicked back on, your hands had grown warm and moist inside of Bruce’s. Everyone one sat staring like that for what felt ages before Tony made a sudden grab for his phone.
Director Fury snatched Tony’s arm and held it in place. “No one will ever believe you.”
Without uttering another word, Director Fury turned, twinkling, to stride back to the elevator doors through which he’d come. You all remained too stunned to speak for several minutes after he vanished behind them.
“Well,” Natasha said at last, “I think we can all agree on who won [Name]’s Song Challenge.”
A murmur of assent rose from the group.
One by one, each member of the team seem to thaw. Bruce squeezed your hands before releasing you at last. Sure, you might have lost out on the overall win, but you’d won his heart. That was something that even Director Fury wouldn’t be stealing away from you any time soon.
Summary: For nine years, you raised the little sister your parents would never see grow. For nine years, you put blood and sweat and tears—sometimes your own, sometimes that of others—into your gruesome work. For nine years, you promised your little family a better life. Then, on the eve of happily ever after, all that is snatched away in the name of revenge. There’s only one group of people capable of rescuing your sister from those who murdered your parents. The thing is, they might not be so willing to help once they discover who (or what) you are…or maybe, just maybe, they might love you in spite of it.
Ratings/Warnings: T (sexual references, mild foul language, canon divergence Post-Avengers (2012), violence, slow burn, France depicted by a non-French writer, no Laura Barton)
Pairings:Clint Barton/Female!Reader; Natasha Romanoff/Bruce Banner; Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Your father told you once many years ago that one day you would return to New York City. You’d been seven at the time, eager and excited to be somewhere so starkly different from your home in Arizona—and to see your father at work. All the glitter, all the lights, so many people! You couldn’t wait to come back with your parents someday soon, someday when it was safe, someday when there wasn’t a job to do.
As you watched the dark shapes of the many skyscrapers covered in squares of brilliant whites and blues slide past your taxi window, you couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm of your childhood. Your father probably hadn’t imagined that everything would be different the next time you saw the city, except for the city itself. No family, no safety, only work to look forward to. You wouldn’t even be in the country long enough to enjoy the sights if all went according to plan.
“So, how long are you in town for?” the cabbie asked. The brown eyes set underneath his thick, dark eyebrows flashed at you in the rearview mirror. You appreciated his breaking into your thoughts; answering him prevented you from dwelling on what could not be changed.
“I leave first thing tomorrow.” You slipped easily back into the American Midwestern accent you’d adopted since arriving in the city. “I’ve got business to take care of out of the country.”
“And you only got in this evening?”
“I had a layover. Why waste it?”
“That’s some turnaround just to see Central Park!”
“I couldn’t resist looking at the ice-skating rink. My dad took me there once when I was a little girl.”
“Oh, yeah? Where’s he now?”
“Dead. Like the rest of my family.”
Your driver made a strange spluttering sound. Lucky for him, a spot along 5th Avenue opened up, allowing him to pull in without inflicting any further awkward conversations upon either of you. You hopped out, paid him his fare—plus a tip—and then headed for the information kiosk ahead on Terrace while he waited for someone new to flag him down.
Early March after sunset was not as popular time for the Central Park skating rink as earlier months might have been. It could not be helped. You had left Paris as soon and as surreptitiously as you could without attracting suspicion. A few slow laps around the ice were enough for you to find a crowd of young adults to follow back out of the park. Their chattered faded when you parted from them to turn right on 5th, but by then you could gauge your speed by walking with the other pedestrians. No one gave the woman carrying a pair of ice skates and a heavy backpack a second look.
And there was your destination in front of you, lit up like a beacon piercing the glowing sky above. Avengers Tower shone brighter than all the buildings around it; you could not have missed it if you tried. Nothing major must have been going on that night either. More people than you’d seen in Central Park spilled across the tower’s steps. Many of those people were in costume; enough weren’t that you blended in with the numerous fans and protesters as you climbed up to the glass doors.
You expected the empty lobby at nine o'clock in the evening. Nothing stirred the shadows less than an inch from your nose. Not a light blinked. Tony Stark would have the best security system in the world installed, though, probably one he’d built himself. That you could count on. One wrong move, and all your careful work just to get this far would come crashing down around your ears.
“I wouldn’t stand there too long if I were you.”
Turning at the sound of a male voice, you found only one person close enough to speak to you. A few feet away stood a man painted head-to-toe in metallic gold and red. He rotated his entire body to meet your eyes, and it hit you: He was a street performer decked out to match his location.
“I mean it.” His fingers mechanically motioned you closer. “Too many fans attempting to breach the lobby after hours lately. They’ve updated their security. I saw a girl get blasted down to the sidewalk last night. Unless you’re looking for that sort of thrill…”
You quickly stepped away from the danger zone and over to your new friend. An upturned hat filled with coins and dollar bills sat at the base of the pedestal he stood atop. Well, preventing you from getting caught before you got started had to be worth something.
“Thanks for the warning,” you said, and pulled out a dollar from your wallet to drop in the hat.
Through the throng of Iron Mans, Black Widows, Thors, and Captain Americas you traipsed. Occasionally, you stopped to take a selfie with one that stood at a strategic point along your path. The photos, however, told you nothing other than that Tony Stark didn’t keep a security guard stationed in his building’s lobby at night. And why would he? They had a Hulk, and you wouldn’t doubt the team would utilize that the second they caught wind of anyone trying to force their way through the front doors.
Fortunately, you’d only ever planned to use the front door as a last resort.
******
Nine o'clock. The stage was set. All the lamps in Tony’s living quarters were dimmed. Most of the glasses next to each person’s seat were drained of liquor. A mound of cash sat in the center of the table. Only two players remained. Tony and Steve eyed one another warily. No one else moved. Everyone held their breaths, waiting for the big reveal.
“Four of a kind,” Steve announced as he slapped four aces and a ten of spades on the table.
Whatever Tony had, he didn’t bother saying. He scattered his cards across the table and dropped his head into his arms with a theatrical groan. Even from this angle, Clint could tell Tony’s hand hadn’t had a hope of beating Steve’s. Natasha and Bruce cheered.
“That’s the third time tonight, Rogers.” Tony lifted his head high enough to glare at the man across from him. “You’re cheating. There’s no other explanation for it!”
“If he is, you haven’t managed to prove it yet,” Natasha said.
“That’s because you’re all aiding and abetting him. You want me to lose.”
“Hey,I was rooting for you,” Bruce put in.
Tony glowered at him, too. “You’re sleeping with the enemy now, Big Guy. I can’t trust you. Who knows what she can convince you to do once she’s got you between the sheets?”
As if to prove Tony’s point for him, Natasha entwined her fingers with the hand Bruce had resting on the table, then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Bruce turned pink but shot her a shy smile. Clint rolled his eyes away from this nauseating sight.
“See?” Tony said. “She probably told you to drop out as soon as you could to make sure I’d be trapped in a game alone with Le Chiffre here!”
“That’s putting an awful lot of stock in Bruce’s poker skill that I haven’t seen yet,” Clint remarked.
“This coming from the first guy to fold.”
“It’s not my fault you guys play for such high stakes. Some of us aren’t made of money, you know? I’m practically homeless.”
“Please. You live rent free in the most exclusive place in town. I think you can afford to put a little something in the pot.”
“Says the billionaire,” Clint grumbled. What little money he earned from a paycheck severely cut by superheroics he preferred to keep to himself, not that Tony cared. But Clint supposed he wouldn’t care much if he raked in the kind of cash Tony had for his entire life.
“Anyway, that’s not the point!” Leaping to his feet, Tony pointed dramatically at Steve. “My point is, how did someone whose entire shtick is embodying truth, justice, and the American way get so good at poker?”
Steve eyes flitted around the table, perhaps looking for an out. No one offered him one. “When I couldn’t keep a job, I had to find some way to help Bucky pay the rent. I’ve had a lot of practice playing people a lot tougher than you.”
“So you admit it! You arecheating.”
“Well, if you’re so sure, I can think of one way for you to prove it.”
“What’s that?”
Steve smiled. “Play another round. And this time, pay real close attention.”
The same tension as before filled the room. Bruce and Natasha’s gaze remained riveted on Tony. Clint idly wondered if he could slip away unseen while everyone waited for Tony to make a decision. Then, before Clint could push out his chair and make a run for it, Tony sat back down.
“Deal me in,” he said.
“I’m game,” Natasha agreed.
“I can go one more,” said Bruce.
“Sir?” JARVIS’s voice cut smoothly though the renewed trash talk. He didn’t wait for anyone to acknowledge him before continuing, “My sensors indicate someone is attempting to scale the building.”
That brought an end to the dealing at once.
“What?”
“Again?”
“Now?”
“I guess this puts an end to our game,” Steve said ruefully. “I was going to go for Tony’s Spyder next.”
“In your dreams, Rogers. I’ve got your number. I was just about to win everything back.”
“If you’re so sure about that, why not wager the car?”
“This hardly addresses the problem at hand, boys,” Natasha interrupted. “The game can go on, but first we need to decide who has to go retrieve the intruder, preferably before they find anything to put up on eBay.”
“It’s probably just another one of Tony’s ex-girlfriend,” said Bruce.
“So that’s me out of the running,” Tony said.
“Why does that make it not your job?” Steve asked.
“Because if I go, who knows what she’ll do? I break her heart, she grabs the nearest potted plant and breaks my face.”
“A real tragedy.”
“Maybe a plant to the face would improve your looks, Rogers, but some of us don’t need an adjustment.”
“I’ll go.”
Natasha and Bruce exchanged a look. Tony and Steve went as far as pausing in their bickering to stare at the man now standing next to his chair.
“Clint? You sure?” Bruce asked.
Clint had already made it to the door. He waved Bruce’s concern away. “This game’s too rich for my blood anyway. You guys go ahead.”
“Hey, better you than me, Legolas,” said Tony.
“You might not feel that way here in a few minutes,” Steve said.
“Mark my words, Rogers, in a few minutes, you’re gonna be the one wishing he went on peel-the-fangirl-off -the-wall duty.”
“That’s right. Keep your eyes on each other. No one consider how badly I might like a new car,” Natasha said.
As the argument over who would win this round of Texas Hold'em resumed, Clint moved rapidly away from Tony’s sitting room. The floor containing the more common areas, such as the bar and Bruce’s laboratory, was only a few floors away. Clint shoved the door to the stairwell open with his shoulder and dashed up the stairs, relieved to be away from the rest of the group. Hanging around Bruce and Natasha was sickening enough; throw in Steve and Tony’s near-inability to pay attention to anyone but each other (especially whenever Pepper flew back to Malibu for work), and Clint felt like the fifth wheel on a very ungainly bicycle.
He made a beeline for the weapons cache the second he reached the correct floor. From there, he pulled out the waiting bow and a quiver of trick arrows—then grabbed a few real arrows just in case. There’d been an influx in attempts to break in to the various Avengers’ living quarters since Tony displayed the whole place in a Home and Gardens magazine, but they couldn’t assume every intruder would be someone relatively harmless and in search of nothing more than celebrity underwear to sell for a quick buck.
“Which way are they coming up, JARVIS?” Clint asked the ceiling, once he was prepared.
JARVIS answered promptly: “The unidentified climber is making their way up the northeast side of the building. Their current whereabouts are near floor 83.”
“How about that? A new record.”
Whoever they were, they didn’t have far to go. Clint picked up the pace. As he reached the building’s back wall of windows, he snapped his bow into shape and nocked one of the trick arrows. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to fire anything more dangerous than a rope should the stranger slip upon seeing him.
“I have unlocked the panel directly in front of you,” JARVIS announced.
“Thanks, pal.”
Wind blasted into the room the moment Clint pushed the window open it. Nearby objects rattled and papers skittered across the floor. No noise issued from outside except for the faint and steady honking from the traffic one fatal drop below. He stuck his body out only enough to aim his bow and arrow downward.
“You know, we’ve got an awfully nice public lobby about 85 floors from your current position. Maybe you could try visiting that sometime, preferably during daylight hours. Someone there might even agree to sign something for you, provided it’s legally purchased.”
Silence. Clint slowly lowered his bow and squinted into the darkness below. The alley, though not as well-lit as the front of the tower, caught enough of the blue glow from the giant “A” for him to confirm his immediate suspicion: No one clung there to respond to his quip. He waited there for another half a minute, though, as if expecting someone to poke their head out from a lower level once they thought he’d left.
“JARVIS?” he said as he ducked back inside. “You sure they were on the northeast side of the building?”
“Yes, sir,” the AI replied.
“Do you sense anyone there anymore? ‘Cause I didn’t see anybody just now, and we both know my sight’s about the only thing I contribute around here.”
“I sense no one actively touching the building outside at all. How odd. It’s as though they simply vanished.”
“Let’s hope it’s some hocus-pocus like that. The alternatives are a hell of a lot worse.”
Maybe it was his many years as a SHIELD operative. Maybe it was his time as Loki’s unwilling puppet. Whatever the reason, Clint didn’t let go of his bow or remove his arrow from the string. His eyes scanned every window he passed on his way back to the rest of the group. This time, he took the elevator, ears straining every second for the sound of shattering glass or an uninvited passenger coming along for the ride. Nothing like that happened, and he returned to the room without incident.
“That was quick,” Tony remarked at Clint’s appearance. “You holding out some latent teleportation powers on us, Barton?”
“Do you need help restraining them?” Steve asked, eyeing Clint’s still-readied weapon.
Clint shook his head. “There was nobody there.”
“Were you doing any experiments with JARVIS earlier?” Bruce asked Tony.
“No.” Tony sat his cards facedown on the table and sat up a little straighter. “JARVIS? Is there something going on with your programming?”
“Not that I can tell, sir. One minute, my security systems detected a human biosignal moving up the northeast side of the tower. The next, they did not,” JARVIS replied.
“Run a self diagnostic.”
“I’ve already begun. Nothing seems amiss. I can find no signs of a break-in either.”
Bruce tossed his hand to the table without further discussion. “I’ll go to the ground floor and see if I can find anyone. I wasn’t going to last much longer anyway.”
“Might want to grab a spatula on the way out!” Tony called as Bruce disappeared into the hall.
“Very funny,” Steve said stonily.
“You know, I imagine Pepper’s going to say the exact same thing when I tell her she has to file a claim with our insurance. Same tone and everything. Amazing.”
“That really shouldn’t be our primary concern right now.”
“What should be?” Natasha asked with a cheeky smile. “You really have a one track mind if you’re still focused on the game.”
“I—”
“I am detecting multiple human biosignals now, sir.”
“Outside?” Clint asked, already headed back the way he’d come from.
“No. Inside the building. One is in the bar. One is Miss Potts’ private office. I have third reading in the lobby, a fourth in Captain Roger’s bedroom, and another in the records room.”
Natasha, Steve, and Tony joined Clint on their feet. Everyone gazed expectantly at Steve for orders. He looked at each of them in turn as he rattled them off:
“Tony, you check Pepper’s office. I’ll get the one in my quarters. JARVIS, tell Dr. Banner to check the lobby since he’s the closest.”
“I’ll hit the records room,” Clint volunteered.
“Oh, sure, the one that’s probably a false alarm?” Tony smirked. “No one’s getting anything out of there with JARVIS on the job. Why don’t you join Natasha at the bar? At least I’ve got some unprotected valuables there.”
“Hey, might as well send the least capable person to the least likely spot, right?” Clint said.
Natasha took off like a shot in the direction of the stairs without waiting to see what the outcome of Clint and Tony’s spat would be. Steve, Tony, and Clint all followed. The former two stopped at the door to the stairs through which she had disappeared.
“Remind me why you’re on the payroll again, Barton?” Tony asked.
“Someone’s got to be the pretty one.”
Clint sped off for the lift again. The records room was quite a bit further down than either Steve or Tony’s destination, and the stairwell would be too crowded for Clint to maneuver if they ran into trouble there. Bruce must have already made it all the way down to the first floor, because the elevator arrived quickly and with no one inside.
This second trip took longer than Clint would have liked. He returned his trick arrow to his quiver and replaced it with a real one. As confident as Tony seemed in JARVIS’s ability to throw off a hacker, Clint himself didn’t feel so sure. If someone had gotten into the tower that night, they’d already managed to fool a supposedly foolproof AI once. The last thing he needed would be to find himself with his pants down and an actual supervillain ready to jump him the moment the lift doors opened.
But the floor that housed all the Avengers’ records—paper and electronic files both—seemed empty when he stepped out into it. He saw and heard nothing out of the ordinary, yet something prevented him from turning right back around and joining Natasha at the bar. Clint held his breath, listening hard for any unusual noises. The thought of asking JARVIS to check if he still registered an unknown human nearby occurred to Clint before he realized that would let any intruder know someone was on to them.
Down the hall he crept, silent as could be. His breath burned in his lungs. Just a few feet more. The door to the records room hung open. He could see the first few inches of tile floor. The moment he reached the opening, Clint pressed his back against the wall and pulled his bow string taught. Then he carefully inched his head closer and closer to the doorframe until he could peer around it.
At once he could tell just how wrong Tony had been, not just about JARVIS, but about everything else that night, too. There in the records room, surrounded by open boxes and neatly stacked manila folders, crouched a woman with [color] hair—and the moment Clint spotted her was the same moment she spotted him as well.
