"What a blustery day."

Indeed it was, the winds tore through Central Park, carrying stray leaves with them in swirling patterns between empty branches. The breeze held a delicate chill, that lightest bite of frost in the air that foretold fall's end, and held the promise of winter. Close to all of the trees were brown and bare, though a handful of yellow leaves still clung to their holds. Heavy clouds hung low in the sky, giving a dreary feel to the normally bright spot. Even the grass seemed washed out, a paler color than was typical. Three figures occupied a space that they had mostly to themselves. They had commandeered a park bench, and no one challenged them on such a dreary day.

The youngest, who had spoken, was a petite blonde of perhaps twelve in appearance. She sat perched on the back of the bench, her feet on its seat. Her cheeks were pink with the cold, making prominent freckles seem less drastic on porcelain-pale skin. Her eyes, an icy blue, were bright with fantasy and wonder. Beneath her furry boots was the chest of the oldest of the three, a boy. He had shaggy brown hair and a tan pallor, and appeared to be around fifteen. An older fifteen. He wore a black leather jacket, and lay stretched out on the bench with his hands behind his head. His eyes were a startling forest green, cast upward as if studying the sky above them. In between the two ages was another girl, sitting on the ground at the end of the bench. She had a small stick in her hand and was drawing in the dirt. Her hair was a mahogany color, with more luster to it than the boy's, and she had slate grey eyes that shone with mischief. All three of them were characterized by thin builds, the middle girl looked like she might snap if pushed and the boy's limbs seemed awkwardly long for his skinny build. The youngest girl managed to look slightly normal, her tiny frame not too offset by the obvious malnutrition plaguing them all. Their clothes were worn, but not dirty, and though they didn't fit quite right they weren't tragic. It was clear that the three didn't come from money, but that they weren't living on the streets, either.

"Look here, Ryan. This proves it," the middle girl said, and the boy turned his head to the diagram she had traced in the dirt. "Thor is obviously not the strongest. He's got no strategy, no stealth, and his brute strength is outmatched by the Hulk."

The boy, Ryan, scoffed. "Sure, the Hulk's stronger than him, but it's not like Dr. Banner is the Hulk 24/7 so he doesn't count. Thor is stronger than the other heroes, and that makes him the best avenger. He's tough. If you put any of them up in a fight against him, they'll be crushed." He took the twig and scratched out part of the diagram, drawing something else in.

"He almost lost a fight to Iron Man," the middle girl said.

"He did not; they were evenly matched. But Iron Man without the suit? Tony Stark wouldn't stand a chance against this guy."

The brunette was still not convinced. "That's not the debate, we're talking about the heroes, not the poor-mannered alter-egoes," she countered. Ryan waved his hand, dismissing her argument.

"They're one in the same," he pointed out. "Can't have one without the other."

"Still, Iron Man about whooped his butt with the unibeam," the brunette said. "It leveled that forest."

"It did not! That was entirely Thor's hammer!" Ryan said.

"Actually," the blonde piped up, "It was Captain America's shield. He came in and broke up the fight, and pretty awesomely, might I add, because it was clear that neither was going to win and they were causing massive destruction because their egos were out of this world. So, if you're using the logic of that fight, Captain America is the top Avenger. Not to mention, being the leader of the team." Ryan and the brunette looked at her, surprised, as she took the stick and altered the drawing again.

"Someone's been paying attention," the brunette muttered under her breath. "And seriously, Captain America? Iron Man's powers are way cooler than his, and way more useful in a battle."

"Exactly," Ryan agreed. "Captain America doesn't even compete with Thor's strength."

"Yes, but Captain America's battle tactics beat out Iron Man's 'blow everything up and fly home' idea any day. So, in that ranking, he's below almost every other Avenger. Except maybe the Hulk, who, if we're talking brute strength, Ryan, bests Thor every time. However, let's not forget the scene on the Helicarrier where the Black Widow came around and survived being attacked by the Hulk himself."

"Thanks to Thor!" Ryan pointed out.

"True. But, in a fight with Thor, she could easily escape, or possibly even win," the brunette pointed out. The stick was now being passed freely around, changes being made to the picture left and right, to where it was almost impossible to make out what it said.

"How do you come to that conclusion?" Ryan asked. "Come on, a girl being the strongest Avenger? Not possible!"

"On the contrary, her being a girl is what gives her the advantage. Because she is small and flexible and good a hand-to-hand. Which makes it hard to land a punch on her, and therefore both Thor and the Hulk would never catch her and it would be almost impossible for them to win a fight with the Black Widow," the brunette finished, looking smug. "There you go, strongest Avenger."

"She was almost taken down by Hawkeye on the Hellicarrier," Ryan pointed out. "The two of them are even, at least."

"Oh please, she won that fight," the blonde scoffed.

"Yes, but he lost because he wasn't himself. If you look into it more, the two are even. If he hadn't spared her life, she'd be dead right now. They're tied, especially when you count in Hawkeye's role of calling the enemie's positions. The whole team would be flying blind without him."

"And he wouldn't have that job if it weren't for Captain America's leadership," the blonde said, returning to her earlier point. "He may not be the best in a single subject, but he's the most skill-balanced one on the team."

"Yeah, but he's also clueless in the 21st century," the brunette stated.

"The Hulk could just smash them all," Ryan said again, sitting up and crossing his arms in defiance. The dirt drawing was all but forgotten to the two dark-haired children. Neither had a side in the argument any more, freely arguing any which way to prove the other wrong.

"We went over this, Widow would get away," the brunette said. "Hawkeye too, probably."

"But Iron Man would catch them because of superior intellect," Ryan pointed out. "He'd chase them down in the suit and blast them."

"Only if Hulk didn't smash him."

"Which depends on Dr. Banner hulking-out, which he wouldn't do."

"Because Iron Man would talk him down."

"Well then Thor would smash them."

"Thor's just as clueless as the Captain here, he's too friendly to smash them."

"What kind of logic is that?"

"The kind that you use in saying that Hawkeye and Black Widow would never go after each other."

"Guys," the blonde said, drawing something in the dirt on her own. She had erased the original markings and put in something new. "There is no best Avenger."

"What? Of course-!"

"You're crazy, it's obviously-"

But their sentences died off halfway through, looking at the dirt and what was written. They looked at each other, hten at the blonde, who looked back at them as if daring them to call her wrong.

"She's right," Ryan huffed. The brunette nodded.

"I told you. You're both ridiculous. Can we go now?" the blonde asked, rolling her eyes. "It's cold." She hopped off the bench as Ryan stood as well. He extended a hand and the middle girl used it to pull herself up. "There's no best of them, just like there's no best of us. The three musketeers, remember?"

"Don't act like you weren't part of that argument, Kacey," the other girl accused.

"Oh, hush up," Kacey said as they walked further down the path.

"I don't know whether to be incredibly impressed, or slightly scared," Steve Rogers said, walking toward the area the three children had vacated.

"They didn't even notice us," commented Tony Stark, sounding upset at the fact. "They're having a conversation about us and they don't even look up to see us listening in."

"I'm more worried about the fact that they know about those battles," Natasha commented, brushing past both of them to look at the dirt drawing.

"Not to mention our names," Bruce pointed out.

"They're just kids. They're fine," Tony protested.

"This is really cool," a voice called from the tree above the bench. Clint swung down from where he had been spying on the argument that had caught the attention of the Avengers themselves. They gathered around the drawing and looked down in confusion.

The first thing Thor noticed was a crude drawing of Mjolnir. An arrow pointed from it to a mask of sorts, and he assumed it meant Iron Man, Tony. An arrow was drawn from 'Tony' to a green leaf in the ground, possibly the Hulk because of the color. Several arrows pointed to the 'Hulk' as well, a spider, a V-bird, and a Shield. The mask had arrows pointing to the bird and the spider, which pointed to the shield. The shield pointed at both the hammer and the mask.

"It's a whole diagram on how none of us is the strongest," Steve said.

Tony pulled a phone from his back pocket. "This is totally going on facebook. This is epic."

"Bad idea," Natasha commented, not even looking up. "Don't give away our strengths and weaknesses."

"Oh please, what could this possibly-"

"Just don't, Tony," Steve said. Tony rolled his eyes, but put the phone away.

"Killjoys."

"I've decided something very sad," Clint said slomnenly.

"That would be?" Tony prompted.

"What troubles you, Friend Clint?" Thor asked, clear concern in his words.

"These freaking kids know us better than we know us."

"What. The actual. Fuck," Tony said. "They do!"