"I can't believe you've never seen this movie," Tony says for the fifth time that night. From the chair next to the couch, Steve gives him a look and continues to munch on his bowl of popcorn. Having risen to the bait the previous four times, he decides to ignore Tony and thus sets his eyes back on the screen.
"Hey, there are much more important things for Cap to catch up on than horror movies," Clint defends from his perch on the arm of the couch. He plucks a piece of popcorn out of Steve's bowl and motions to the television. "Besides, this isn't even a scary one."
"Not to you, no, but to someone who's been in a pop-culture vacuum for almost a century-"
"Hey!" Steve interrupts despite himself. "Almost a century?"
"I like to round up," Tony shoots a grin at Steve before continuing, "To someone who's been in a pop-culture coma for the better part of a century, it's plenty scary."
Steve shrugged his shoulders. "Actually, it's a little boring."
"Thank you," Clint leans forward in a half-hearted bow, right arm on his stomach and his left hand sweeping upward. "I rest my case."
"You guys are just yanking my chain," Tony declares. "You agree with me, right, Banner?"
Bruce looks up, flustered. He shifts slightly on the far end of the couch. He's sitting with a knee bent, expertly blocking the book on his lap from exactly no one.
"Uh, I abstain."
"Oh come on, how could you of all people not find this scary?" Tony realizes a millisecond too late, as he always does, that he's perhaps put his foot in his mouth again. But Bruce is a better man, and if the parallel hurt his feelings, he makes no show of it.
"Face it, Stark, your taste in movies is awful.'
"What about Thorgood Marshall over there? Thor, buddy, you have to be enjoying this…"
They turn to the chair opposite Steve, where Thor's massive shoulders are rising and falling in perfect rhythm.
"Oh, come on. He's asleep?!" Tony grabs the remote and cranks the volume, but Thor doesn't react.
"You guys wouldn't know entertainment if it, if it," Tony pauses, flustered. "If it were playing right in front of you!"
"No argument there," Natasha speaks up, fluffing the pillow under her head and stretching out again on the floor in front of the television.
There's a knock on the door, and the conscious Avengers all stare at each other with expressions varying from alert (Natasha, Clint), curious (Steve, Bruce), and annoyed (Tony).
"Who is it?" Clint yells, motioning for Tony to silence the TV. With a reluctant and dramatic sigh, Tony presses the mute button.
There's no reply, just another knock, slightly more forceful.
"We are trying to watch a movie!" Grumbling, Tony launches himself from the couch and checks the peephole. He stands on his tiptoes, looks all around and sighs.
"Kids these days," he mutters, shaking his head. "I didn't think ding-dong-ditching was even a thing anymore."
Before he can take more than two strides back to the couch, a small voice on the other side of the door yells out, "Trick or treat!"
Tony stops. He looks to the others.
"Is it," he glances at his watch. "Is it Halloween already? I thought that was next week."
Steve laughs at him and quickly crosses to the door to open it. "Looks like I'm not the only one who's a little behind the times." He opens the door to reveal a pint-sized ghost and a half-pint witch now standing on the doormat next to a disinterested adult in jeans and a jacket.
"Trick or treat!" the kids chime again, and Steve smiles down at them.
"Wow, look at you two!" Steve ducks back inside, hiding halfway behind the open door as he reaches for the candy bowl. "If I give you some candy, do you promise not to scare me too much?"
The two costumed children nod eagerly, and Steve comes out from behind the door, crouches down, and drops a handful of candy in each of their bags.
"Happy Halloween," he grins, waving as the adult leads the kids away.
"Happy Halloween!" the kids chime, waving back. Steve closes the door and when he turns around, the rest of the Avengers are staring at him.
"What?" he asks defensively, his smile slowly fading from his face. "I've missed a lot of holidays. I… don't want to miss any more."
"That's understandable," Natasha says gently, sitting up to face him. "But that's not the weird part."
"What, then?" Steve's eyebrows furrow, trying to figure it out.
"This isn't your house," Tony tells him, as if it were obvious. Steve shakes his head, confused. He looks to Clint and Bruce for help.
"Yeah, I know."
"Then why'd you sneak a bowl of candy into my place?" Clint asks bluntly.
Steve shrugs, crossing the room to resume his position in the chair next to the couch. "I was worried we'd run out."
He's so earnest, not even Tony can laugh at him.
"We'll be fine, Steve," Clint assures him, "I think I've only ever gotten like, five kids. Max."
Steve looks somewhat relieved.
"Oh come on!" Tony cries, gesturing at the TV. "Nobody thought to pause it?"
Everyone shrugs innocently. "You had the remote," Bruce reminds him, looking up from his book.
"Fine. Then I will use this remote to rewind."
Everyone groans so loudly that Thor stirs in his sleep. He shifts in the chair and wakes up just as Tony hits play again.
"This is still playing?" He asks incredulously.
Tony throws his arms up in defeat. "You're all cultural philistines."
Another knock, and Steve races back to the door.
"Trick or treat," a chorus of young voices announces, and Steve can't stop grinning. "Oh my God," he turns back to the room. "You guys… you have to come see this."
The others share a look of annoyance, but everyone begrudgingly gets to their feet to join Steve at the door, although Bruce brings his book and Tony's attention is at least halfway focused on the television screen.
Standing in a semi-circle on the other side of the door are miniature versions of themselves.
"It's like looking in a creepy funhouse mirror," Tony murmurs, his focus now completely shifted to the trick-or-treaters.
The little Natasha gasps loudly and points to her larger counterpart. "It's you!" she briefly scans the others' faces and turns to her friends. "It's them!"
The shrieks of delight from the children are so loud that even Thor winces and rubs his ear.
After the kids calm down, candy is distributed, and signatures are scrawled on plastic pumpkin buckets, the adult-sized Avengers return to Clint's living room.
"I wonder how many of them there are," Steve says, making no effort to hide the amazement in his voice.
"Well, we kind of made a big impact this summer," Bruce notes, his quiet voice somehow adding modesty to the words.
Thor smiles. "You know who would love a little army of miniature minions?" he pauses, wistful. "Loki."
"Don't even joke," Clint scowls and climbs onto the arm of the couch.
"You have to be loving this," Natasha says to Tony, who was playing with the settings on the TV. "A city full of little Tony Starks and you don't have to worry about a single paternity test."
"Har har," Tony makes a face at her, but he has to admit she has a point. As much as he's been trying to work on his ego – and shut up, he has been trying, despite what everyone says- it was certainly comforting to know his actions inspired hundreds, no doubt thousands, of children roaming the city tonight.
"Did you see his little shield?" Steve gushes to Clint, who smiles back at him.
"Not really. I was too busy looking at the bow and arrow. I'm pretty sure they were functional."
After the gushing and praising their respective treat-or-treaters dies down, they settle back into ostensibly watching the movie. But every one of them, even Tony, is waiting for another knock on the door, waiting to bask in the glow of adulation from another set of adorable Avengers children.
Alas, no other trick-or-treaters come, and Tony realizes that they have all dozed off in front of his unappreciated movie marathon.
Tony sighs and reaches over to grab a chocolate from the bowl still in Steve's clutches. Steve shifts, snoring slightly, but Tony triumphantly snags the candy without waking him.
He unwraps it, pops it in his mouth, and turns his attention back to the screen.
"I'm surrounded by uncultured swine," he announces to the sleeping room, but there's nowhere else he'd rather be.
THE END