Drunk

"I'm telling you, it's impossible to get him drunk." Natasha shook her head at Tony. "His metabolism runs 4.2 times faster than a normal human's." Natasha, Clint and Tony were all in one of Stark Tower's huge work-out rooms, all working on various projects. Natasha was sharpening already too- sharp-for- Tony's- liking knives, Clint was fiddling with a new type of arrow (supposedly, you could implant information into it and not have to go to SHIELD to fill out your reports. Steve had rolled his eyes at the idea, but Tony had been fascinated and offered one of his labs for the research.), and Tony was holding up an amber liquid in a glass bottle.

"So? If a shot of this scotch can bring down the Hulk-"

"Which was a horrible idea." Clint interrupted.

"-I'm ninety-nine point nine percent sure that even wonder man Steve Rogers can't take it." Tony finished. "And it was a great idea." He retorted to Clint's earlier statement. "Did you see Banner's face the next morning? It was hilarious."

Natasha's lips twitched. "Not nearly as hilarious as what Pepper did to you when she found her kitchen counters in half."

Tony winced at the memory. Silent glares had been directed at him all day from Banner, Pepper and Steve (Steve liked the kitchen. And, surprise, he could cook pretty well. Tony just had to add that to the list of why Steve had so freaking many fangirls.).

"Come on. If it took down the Hulk, Rogers doesn't have a chance." Tony whined.

"Tell you what, if Steve gets drunk from that," Natasha indicated the bottle with a razor sharp knife, "I'll give you a hundred bucks. And I'll tell Steve it was my idea."

"Yeah, because he won't kill you." Clint snorted, adjusting the flight tip on one of the arrows in front of him.

"But if it doesn't work, you pay both of us a hundred dollars- shut it, Stark. You're a billionaire, you can handle it- and you dance around the tower singing that Iron Man song you made up last week. Yes, we both saw it." Natasha grinned evilly.

Tony huffed. "Sure. Make sure you have that money ready, because this bottle and I," he shook the flask for emphasis, "are going to win this thing." He grinned his evil scientist grin and carefully set the liquor on the counter top, sliding it into the corner farthest from any work space to ensure its absolute safety. "If that thing moves, I'm reporting you to Fury for not filling out the last assignment's reports. So no, no, no touching. Got it?"

The assassins exchanged a glance, mirth bubbling behind their eyes. "Sure." Clint replied easily. "Bonus points- not bonus money, but points- if you can get Thor drunk."

Tony's eyes lit up. "Sure. The God of Lightening and Storms drunk. Now that will be a blast. Excuse me while I go make party arrangements." He nearly bounced out of the lab, eyes bright at the challenge.

Natasha turned to Clint. "Think he has a chance?" She snickered.

"Not a chance in Hell." Clint smirked back.

"Yo, Steve, Thor." Tony stepped out of the elevator (Steve swore he had never seen the man take the stairs if he had a choice.) "What do you think of some alcohol and drinking tonight in the lab?"

Steve blinked at him. "Alcohol. Don't you normally drink it? Unless you're into hoarding it."

Tony waved his hand. "I had to make it obvious, right? So you guys up for it?"

Thor beamed. "Certainly, Friend Tony. I have yet to taste Midguardian brew, and you seem to possess excessive quantities of the liquid."

Steve shrugged. "Sure. I'm willing to bet you have some of the best stuff in the world here. It'd be interesting."

Tony rubbed his hands together. "Yep. Very interesting."

Six hours later, Thor was regaling yet another tale of one of his battles, gesturing largely with his glass of whiskey-cola. "I smote the beast, and the fair lady Sif dealt with the armies, while the Warriors Three fought the devil himself!" He enthusiastically proclaimed.

"Wow. That's great." Steve, still wide-eyed and alert listened to the fortieth battle retelling. He showed no sign that anything he had been given was stronger than tea. "So where was Odin?"

"Odin was still at home, dealing with his own worries." Tony supplied. So far, he had given Steve five different types of whiskey, a martini, sake, and rum. Lots of rum. Tony was almost as wasted and dopey as Thor, but he had been saving the specialty and purpose of the night for last. "Here." He slurred, pulling the special scotch from its counter corner, where it had sat undisturbed until now. "Try this, Captain." His hands trembled slightly as he tried to slosh some of the drink into Steve's glass.

"Hey, you okay?" Steve took the bottle from him before he could slop the amber liquid everywhere. He looked concernedly at Tony.

"Fine. I've been more stoned than this and come out alive. Apparently I gave a speech on Nuclear physics once." Tony waved away the concerns. "But try that stuff. It's really good."

"Oh, okay." Steve shrugged and dumped some into his glass, filling it half way before stopping. Tony grinned. A shot had taken Hulk. No way could Steve handle half a freaking glass.

Steve sipped the liquor thoughtfully, tuning out Thor for a moment. "Wow. This is good." He nodded to Tony. "Thanks. What were you saying, Thor?"

The blonde warrior guffawed. "This is truly some interesting drink. Nothing on Midguard quite compares to Asguardian sustenance, but this is grand." Thor gulped down the remains of his drink before refilling his mug with rum.

Steve took a long swallow of his own drink, savoring the smooth feel and taste as he drank. Tony grinned again, feeling well and truly smashed. If that didn't finish Steve off, nothing would.

Tony blinked. Sunlight from the half closed blinds flooded the room, making the pounding in his head double. "Augh." Tony moaned, sitting up against the pillows. Wait, pillows? He looked down. Why was he in bed? He had had a drinking party, right? He never made it as far as bed after one of those unless Pepper forced him to, and she was in DC right now. So how had he gotten into bed?

"Thor, Tony." Steve's voice sounded out from somewhere in the tower. "Dinner."

"Dinner?" Tony croaked. Good. What he needed was an Aspirin, some strong coffee, and some food.

Slowly, he hobbled out of his room, making his way to the kitchen. He looked in at Thor, head cradled in hands, obviously suffering from a hangover, Natasha and Clint bantering good naturedly over the advantages of pistols and bows, Banner cleaning his glasses, and Steve. Steve was not moaning in pain over his head. He was not popping Aspirin like candy. He was carving a freaking chicken, whistling softly, looking for all the world like he had stayed home and read the night before.

"Hey, Tony. Aspirin's in the cupboard over the stove." Steve greeted Tony with a smile. "Bruce made you some coffee already. Think you could hand some off to Thor? I would, but I'm a bit busy at the moment."

"You don't have a headache?" Tony asked disbelievingly. Steve shook his head at him bemusedly. "You didn't get drunk at all last night?"

Steve chuckled. "No. C'mon, Tony, you know I can't get drunk. But you and Thor were hammered pretty hard. I had to carry both of you up to bed."

A cough sounded from behind Tony. He turned. Both Natasha and Clint were staring at him expectantly, hands held out.

Shit. He'd never hear the end of this.

Hi! I'm new here. I've published for other fanfictions, but I wanted to expand. And I have. Sorry for the swearing, I usually have a kid friendly vocabulary in my writing, but it seemed like stuff they'd say, right?

As you can see, no couples, only Steve being naive, and Tony being stupid. If you liked this, Review! If not, Review!

'Til next time!

-The Irish Lass