After dinner had become team time. It wasn't exactly something that was planned, which was probably why it worked. Given this team of individualists, the best way to scatter them to the four winds was to order them to come together.

But at least part of the team ate dinner together more often than not, then adjourned to another room together to do things like learn origami (Bruce found it very soothing) or read (Steve had a lot of books to catch up on) or throw darts (nobody knew why Clint found it amusing to hit bullseye after bullseye...or if Natasha knew, she wasn't talking).

On this particular night, Bruce was sprawled on a couch with a copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (mainly because Tony's eyes had crossed when he saw it) and not paying a lot of attention to everyone else, until...

"It's amazing what you hear when nobody notices you're there," Clint said, casually juggling three glass globes.

"Yes, you're super sneaky, you're the sneakiest," Tony said, waving a hand. "Now gimme the good SHIELD gossip now or I'll destroy all the dartboards in the country."

Bruce glanced over, then blinked when he realized Clint was looking at him. "What? I haven't done anything...have I?"

One by one, Clint caught the globes and put them on the table. Bruce sighed at the drama, put down his book, and sat up. "You," Clint said with relish, "can't have sex."

Bruce blinked again. He waited for a few moments in the hopes things would make more sense, then gave up. "I'm not following you."

"That's what the junior agents were explaining to each other. You can't have sex because it raises your heart rate and then you turn big and green."

Every head in the room swiveled to look at Bruce and he scowled at them.

"How does that even make sense?" Tony asked. "What part of 'rage monster' did they miss?"

Bruce sighed. "I don't know where these ideas come from."

"So," Thor said, "it is untrue?"

"Yes, it's untrue."

"I can top that," Natasha said suddenly.

"Oh god," Bruce said, burying his face in his hands.

"iI/i heard that he is-and I quote-'a tantric sex god.'"

"Oh my god." His face was getting warmer and he could hear snickering.

Tony said, "What, nobody accused him of killing his last girlfriend, thus explaining why General Ross has a hard-on for him?"

There was a short silence, then the unmistakable sound of at least two people hitting the back of Tony's head. Bruce looked up, and Tony was frowning. "What?" he asked, aggrieved.

"Only you," Natasha said with a sigh.

"Somebody has to say these things," Tony said, waving a hand. "Y'know, air them out, etc. etc."

"I do not understand," Thor said, looking around. "If these things are untrue-"

"You don't have gossip on Asgard?" Bruce asked.

"Perhaps the word is not translating properly," Thor said. "It means 'a person who habitually reveals personal or sensational facts about others'?"

Everyone paused, considering. "Well, yes," Clint said. "But we're using it as a noun, the personal facts. Except that a lot of times, gossip is totally wrong."

"Rumors of my inability to have sex are greatly exaggerated," Bruce said, shaking his head.

"Well, there was one true thing in there." Steve had been sitting quietly in the corner, but now he stood, walking toward Bruce.

Everyone stared, not even breathing, as Steve took his hand and pulled him up until their faces were almost touching.

"He *is* a sex god."

Bruce's face was so warm, he was a little concerned about bursting into flames, but he couldn't help but laugh as Steve pulled him inexorably out of the room.

From behind him, Tony's voice drifted out of the room. "Okay, I didn't see that one coming."

"And that's why you shouldn't depend on gossip," Natasha said, closing the door behind them.

"Let's go make some sensational facts," Steve said as they reached the elevator.

"Sounds like a good idea." Bruce smiled at him.

-end-