A/N: So, I'm really good at accidentally making my female characters really bitchy. Poor Pepper always comes across as insensitive and mean. So, I'm now trying to write a bitchy female character on purpose. It all makes sense.

Disclaimer: Just because I go by Stark at work doesn't mean I'm actually Tony...or that I own Tony.

Steve was halfway through his workout when he heard the swish of the doors opening. He grinned to himself. Probably Tony again.

Tony had made it his personal mission to try and sneak up on Steve while he was training. The first few times, Steve had heard the door open and had invited Tony to spar with him. But after awhile, Steve had caught on to the game and he started to wait until Tony was right behind him. Right before Tony could tackle him, he would casually slide his leg back and trip him. It was Steve's favorite training exercise. Because yes, Tony's game totally counted as training. In the field, enemies might try and sneak up on him, too. And unlike Tony, they weren't in it for the laughs.

Steve swung another punch at the bag, straining to hear the sound of Tony's shoes scraping across the floor, and the sharp intake of breath right before he tried to pounce on him. But all he could hear was the click of heels across the floor.

Natasha? No, probably not. Natasha walked pretty lightly. He'd probably never hear her coming.

Steve cast a sidelong glance towards the door. Sheila, Tony's newest girlfriend was standing against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest.

Weird. Steve had never seen her down in the gym before. She didn't seem like the type who liked working up a sweat. Steve had never seen her in anything other than a pencil skirt and heels, even during team movie nights. And she was constantly talking business strategies and engineering with Tony.

Like a blonde, Pepper knock-off.

It wasn't all that surprising that Tony would go for someone like Sheila. He had taken the break-up with Pepper very hard. Steve had spent a whole night with Tony on the couch while the other man watched sappy movies and sobbed into a carton of ice cream. It had been close to 5 a.m. when Tony finally slumped against him and started snoring.

So Steve was glad Tony had finally moved on. He really was. He just wasn't quite sure what to make of Sheila yet. She really didn't interact with the rest of the team. Steve got the feeling she didn't like them very much. Especially him. He didn't know what he had done to upset her, but she was standing there glaring at him like he was scum.

Oh, of course. He hadn't stopped to say hello. She was finally making the effort to bond with the team and he was ignoring her. How rude of him.

He wiped his hands on his towel and extended a hand towards her. "Hi, Sheila" he said. "Is this your first time down here? I could show you where we stash all the supplies."

The glare intensified.

"Uh, did you want me to clear out for awhile? I don't want to be in your way."

She smirked. "Too late for that."

Well, that wasn't very nice.

"I'm sorry," Steve said. "Maybe we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I'm Steve. I'm a friend of Tony's. And I-"

She snorted. "Don't play dumb. It's pathetic."

"I'm not playing. I don't understand what I've done to upset you, but if you'd-"

Her eyes darkened. "I always protect what's mine."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

"And Tony is my boyfriend."

"I know," Steve said patiently. That was pretty much the only thing he knew right now.

"And I've seen the way you look at him. Like you want to pin him against the wall and have your way with him."

Steve felt his face heat up."I'm not-I wouldn't," he protested.

She inspected her nails. "It's really obvious," she said. "We can all see it."

Steve swallowed. "We?" he asked weakly. Oh god, what if that included Tony?

"Oh, yes," she said, her mouth curving into a smirk. "He knows all about your pathetic little crush. We've had a good laugh about it already. But really, it's starting to get old. How is Tony supposed to take you seriously as the team leader when you're too busy thinking about putting your hands on him?"

"I would never touch him," Steve said. "I would never jeopardize our relationship as teammates."

"You're already jeopardizing the team. Who wants to take orders from a fag?"

Tony rubbed at his eyes tiredly as he watched the lines of code running across the screen. He didn't have time to be tired. There was so much work to do and he was woefully behind schedule. All Steve's fault, of course. Because for some reason, Steve had decided to end his morning workout by punching Sheila in the face.

To his credit, Steve had immediately come to Tony with apologies for being a terrible friend and a terrible teammate and something about betraying his trust. And that was all before Sheila had marched into the living room with a hand cupped over her nose, screaming and crying and demanding that Steve be fired from the Avengers.

Most of the morning had been eaten up with consoling Sheila and getting her carted off to the hospital. Happy had ended up driving her because Tony just did not do hospitals. It probably made him a terrible boyfriend, but he didn't care. She wasn't in any real danger, so what was the point in staying at her bedside all day? Surely she'd understand how busy he was. And if not, well, he could make it up to her later with a fancy dinner and a new pair of heels.

He typed in another few lines of code and let Jarvis compile the data. It looked like he was finally coming up with a reasonable solution for the Quinjet's fuel intake problem. So then, all he needed to do now was fine-tune Natasha's gun, make his suit invulnerable to the SHIELD-issue EMP bombs, and make Clint's arrows more aerodynamic. And then Fury would stop bitching at him for a day or so.

But then a silence fell over the lab.

Tony rolled his eyes upward. "Jarvis, you know I don't work well without my tunes."

"Agents Barton and Romanov are requesting entry, sir"

Tony leaned back to get a better look. Sure enough, Natasha and Clint were standing by the door wearing matching expressions of concern.

Fuck. He did not have time for an intervention.

"Tell them to go away. I'm busy."

"Agent Romanov would like to remind you that your coffee maker is not in fact bulletproof and if you would like to ensure its safety, you'll let her enter the lab."

Tony groaned. "Fine. Let them in. But remind them that I have work to do."

"Of course, sir."

Tony didn't bother to look up as the pair approached his work table. "Hey, guys. Are you here to give me my World's Worst Boyfriend award?"

Natasha sighed. "No. We're worried about Steve. He's taking this very hard."

"Of course he is. He hit a girl. His delicate 1940s sensibilities must be all aquiver." He glanced at Clint. "No pun intended."

"Be serious for once in your life," Natasha snapped. "This is Steve we're talking about."

Tony waved a hand absently. "He'll be fine. He'll sketch a picture of himself as a terrible woman-beater, burn it in the fireplace, make another round of apologies, and then move on. Remember when he tried to use the high efficiency washer the first time and put way too much detergent in it? I wish he had saved that picture because it was hilarious."

"I think this is a little more serious than an overflowing washer," Clint said.

"Because he left the Tower," Natasha added. "And he didn't tell anyone where he was going."

"He's probably gone to that bar off Ninth Street, the one that's made up like an old speakeasy."

Clint blinked. "For real? A speakeasy?" He looked questioningly at Natasha, who only shrugged.

"Yup," Tony said. "Steve loves the place. It's where he always wants to go for our lunch dates. Reminds him of back in the day I guess."

"Dates? Jesus, are you and Steve fucking?"

"Get your head out of the gutter, Barton. It's not that kind of date."

"But you-"

Tony rolled his eyes. "I am capable of thinking about more than sex, okay? That takes up only ten percent of my brain power, max. The rest of the time, I am planning cool things. Which is why Steve picked me to reacquaint him with our fair city. Because I'm cool and obviously know all the cool places to hang out." He frowned. "Except the only places I've taken him are Starbucks and the bar. Wow. I need to get out more often."

"You like Steve," Natasha said slowly, as if it had just dawned on her.

"Of course I like Steve. Everyone likes Steve. Well, maybe not Sheila. But she'll come around."

"You like Steve," Clint said. "As in, you like like him."

"What is this, elementary school?"

"Cut the crap, Stark."

Tony wilted. "Okay, so maybe I have a little bit of a crush on the guy. It's those pecs. And abs. And, uh, just about everything else. He's hot, okay? And now that he's not being an asshole, we get along pretty well. He likes the same pizza toppings I do, appreciates a good whiskey, and eats ice cream out of the carton when he thinks no one's looking. Come on. How can you hate a guy like that?"

Natasha looked a little stunned. "Have you told Steve how you feel?"

"No. Hell no. We're actually getting along now and I don't want to jeopardize that for a silly crush. I'll settle for being his best friend."

Natasha put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Then as his best friend, you should go talk to him."

Tony took a step back and regarded her warily. Natasha wasn't usually this warm and fuzzy. It was almost scarier than when she was threatening him.

"Tony," Natasha said. "Steve's been gone for six hours now. If he just needed to clear his head, he'd be back by now."

"If I may," Jarvis interjected. "Captain Rogers has packed an overnight bag so it is unlikely that he'll return to the Tower tonight."

Clint's eyes went wide and Natasha swore in Russian.

"Damn," Tony said. "Steve is a lot more upset about this than I thought. Jarvis, pull up the footage from Steve's workout this morning. I want to know what the hell happened."

Jarvis dutifully brought up a projection of the gym's security footage.

Steve's morning workout had started normally enough. He was hitting the punching bags with cheerful enthusiasm, his shirt practically plastered to his chest as he worked up a sweat. Oh, what Tony wouldn't give to be able to run his hands over that gorgeous chest. Not that Natasha and Clint needed to know that. They'd never let him hear the end of it.

He eyed Natasha. Her gaze was still fixed on the video, but the corners of her mouth curved into a knowing smirk.

Fuck, he was caught.

"Uh, let's fast forward this a little, Jarvis."

The footage jumped forward half an hour when Sheila entered the gym. Predictably, everything went to shit after her arrival. But Tony was surprised by just how badly things had gone. He was horrified by all the ugly lies and vicious personal attacks spewing from those pretty, painted lips. Even more horrifying was how easily Steve seemed to accept her words as fact.

"You're right. I should resign from the team."

Beside him, Natasha drew in a sharp breath.

No, this was impossible. Steve wouldn't really leave the Avengers. But the defeated slump of Steve's shoulders as he left the gym seemed to suggest otherwise.

"Follow him," Tony said urgently.

Jarvis switched to feed of the kitchen. Tony was sitting at the kitchen counter with parts of the toaster strewn all around him. Natasha and Clint were sitting at the table, having a heated discussion about what to put in their latest mission report.

Steve slunk into the kitchen and stood behind Tony's chair. "Tony, I need to talk to you," he said quietly. He glanced around. "Privately, please."

Tony waved a screwdriver. "Kinda busy here, Cap. Nat will kill me if she doesn't get her toast."

"Tony, this is important."

"Just a sec."

Tony cursed himself. This had probably been his one chance to tell Steve he cared and didn't want him to leave the Avengers. And instead, he had blown him off and probably convinced him to leave for good.

Tony poked at the remains of the toaster. "I suppose I could take a little break. So, what did you want to talk about?" He glanced up and frowned. "Uh, you okay? You're not getting sick, are you?"

"I'm so sorry, Tony," Steve said. "I've been a terrible friend and a terrible teammate. There's nothing I can do to make up for-"

At that moment, Sheila stormed into the kitchen, blood pouring from her nose. "You!" she pointed an accusing finger at Steve. "Look what he did to me."

Steve's face crumpled. "I didn't, I didn't mean to," he said. "It was an accident."

"Liar!" Sheila screeched. "He punched me."

"What the hell?" Clint said. "He didn't even touch her."

"Go back to the gym," Tony said. "Right after Steve leaves."

Sheila wandered over to the boxing ring the team had set up for sparring matches. A wicked smile slid across her face as she put a hand over the ropes. "Perfect." She ducked in under the ropes and took up a stance at one of the posts. She aimed a punch at an imaginary opponent and then whipped her head back into the post. Over and over again until blood was pouring from her nose.

"Fuck," Tony said. "I've been dating a supervillain."

Natasha put a hand on his shoulder. "We don't know that," she said.

"Anyone who stone-cold makes Steve cry is a supervillain in my book."

Clint nodded. "So, what are you going to do about Sheila?"

"Who? Oh, you mean my ex-girlfriend that's suddenly going to be responsible for her own medical bills and as many lawsuits as Jarvis can help me slap her with?"

Clint grinned. "Let me know when you go to the hospital. I'd pay good money to see the look on that bitch's face."

"Then you can take this nice profanity-laden break-up letter to her." Tony pounded out a few lines and then slammed the print key. "Because if I have to see her face again, I'll probably re-break her nose."

Clint gave him a high-five and snatched up the note from the printer. "This is probably the best job I've ever had."

"Well," Natasha said. "Now you know Steve returns your feelings. So, go find him and have a little heart to heart. He'll be good for you."

"Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?"

"I've been trying to get Steve dating for almost a year now. And if he's decided he likes you, I fully support that. He needs someone, you know." Her hand tightened on Tony's shoulder, her nails digging into his skin. "So don't you dare break his heart."

Right. This was the Natasha Tony knew and feared.

"Err, I'll just be-hey, why don't I go look for Steve?"

Tony got out of the Tower as quickly as possible and headed for the bar. Just as he thought, Steve was sitting at the counter, staring down into a glass of whiskey.

Tony dropped into the seat next to him. "Hey, soldier."

Steve flinched. "Tony!"

"You had to know I'd find you here."

Steve sighed. "I wasn't trying to hide. Just trying to work up the courage to face the consequences of my actions."

"Oh, of course. You need a lot of courage to hear how the team worried about you and desperately wants you back. Or maybe that I kicked Sheila to the curb for being a lying sack of shit."

Steve blinked. "Oh. That went better than I expected."

Tony slung an arm over Steve's shoulder. "We watched the security footage of her being a bitch to you. Why didn't you say something?"

Steve hunched his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I thought maybe it was my own jealousy talking. You seemed to like her and I didn't want to mess up your relationship."

"Fuck, Steve. She was an evil hell-beast and you knew it. As my friend, you're supposed to tell me these things."

"Sorry," Steve said sheepishly. "It won't happen again."

"Never again," Tony agreed. He slid his hand over Steve's.

"Tony, please," Steve said in a low voice. "I don't want your pity."

"Pity? Is that what you call our lunch outings and movie nights? Damn. And here I thought that was called dating."

"Dating," Steve said, his face splitting into a wide grin. "I like the sound of that." He shifted his hand to curl his fingers around Tony's.

Tony stared down at their intertwined hands. Eventually they would have to get up and get back to the Tower. Everyone would want assurance that Steve was okay and not actually quitting the Avengers. But the team could wait. Because Tony was going to make this moment last as long as possible.