Auhtor's note: I should really stick to doing one story at a time. That's all I've got...
Thanks in advance to all those who read, review, and whatnot.
"After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world." ― Philip Pullman.
The Avengers—sans Thor because they'd learnt their lesson about bringing the god of Thunder out in public with them when there was food to be had—all sat together in Tom's Diner. They were chatting, eating, and being generally agreeable with the establishment's elderly owner, Thompson Thomas.
Waitresses walked up and down the aisles, some balancing platters decorated with food that could only be described as home-made and artery-clogging while others carried back empty dishes and dirty cutlery.
Tony tipped them handsomely and so they waited hand-and-foot on the heroes.
One of the waitresses—a tall, bubbly blonde with cute, knock-off Fendi heels and the biggest hoop earrings Bruce had ever seen—was clearing off the table behind them. It had just been vacated by an elderly couple who hoped to catch the 'Early-Bird Special' in peace.
She was as enthusiastic as someone who loved there job dearly. Smiling brightly, her glossy-pink lips shimmering in the light, she leaned across the table and collected the half-empty napkin holder for refills.
Bruce put his elbow on the table and his rested chin on the perch of his hand, watching her work with wide lovey-dovey eyes. She was like a nymph from the stories. Silky blonde hair that fell to her shoulders in luscious waves of glimmering gold; sparkling blue eyes that were as crystalline and beautiful as sapphires; a smile that could bring joy to even the dead—
"That one's got a nice pair of legs on her." As rude as Tony's comment was, it was true. The fair-haired Naiad did have long, tanned shapely legs.
Bruce watched the Genius-Billionaire-Playboy-Philanthropist out of the corner of his wary eyes as the roguish smirk on the other man's face grew in size and intensity the longer he looked at the waitress working behind Natasha and Clint's booth.
The red-haired woman leaned back casually in her seat as she took a long drink from her strawberry lemonade. The rubicund liquid in the cup drained half-way to the bottom where the sweet taste would be slowly diluted by the large chunks of ice that occupied the space.
Natasha, releasing the straw from her lips and putting her cup back on the table, offhandedly spoke: "That girl is probably half your age and she can definitely hear you. So, not only are you lecherous but you're tactless and ignorant, as well..."
Only Nat could sound so cool when she was insulting people. Clint grinned cheekily at her joke as he gestured for Steve to pass him the syrup. As he took the half-filled bottle from the super-soldier, he caught Tony staring at him. "What?" The archer chuckled as he went to drown his blueberry pancakes.
Tony looked affronted, shifting testily in his seat and almost elbowing Bruce in the stomach. To everyone's supreme relief, the scientist moved just in the nick of time. Tony's elbow collided with the table instead as he intended. The raven-haired man went on speaking as if he almost didn't incur the wrath of a certain Green Rage Monster. "Riddle me this, Barton, why is it that every time she says jump, you say 'How high?'," Tony's voice jumped a few octaves towards the end of his sentence; making him sound like a little girl... with a man's voice... and a penis...
"I don't sound like that." Clint said, rolling his eyes as he set down the almost empty bottle of syrup and began cutting into his pancakes. "And, I don't jump at her every command." Steve, Bruce, and Tony all raised their eyebrows pointedly—as if to say, "The hell you don't!"
The archer balked for a fraction of a second before he regained his cool. "Don't look at me like that. I really don't. I just thought what she said was funny. Can't I be allowed to laugh?"
Even Steve snorted at his reply. "Whatever you say, Clint…" The super-soldier smiled as he went back to sketching in his notepad. The archer was unimpressed. Reaching over Natasha's plate, he made a childish move to steal Steve's sketchbook. The super-soldier spotted him moving towards his precious book and before Clint could even raise a hand to pluck it from Steve's slack grip, the bronze-haired man dropped his notepad on the table and caught Clint's wrist. In a show of his incredible strength and lightning fast reflexes, Steve pulled Barton and the archer jerked violently forward and slammed into the table.
Clint cried out in pain as the edge of the table banged into his pelvis and upper-thighs. Without his balance, Barton fell onto the many plates and cups on the table and ruined his and Natasha's meals in the process.
His and her cups went tumbling emptily off the table where the plastic cracked loudly on the floor. The table shuddered and bowed, under the blonde's weight and Steve's strength. It was over as soon as it started but all the normal-patrons in the diner gasped.
The waitresses looked as though they had been given word that the world had just ended. White as sheets and trembling like leaves, they stood gathered around the serving counter. Thompson grabbed his heart as he blotted sweat off his brow with his handkerchief. "Holy hell!" He exclaimed as he and a few waitresses came round to the table to assess the damage.
"Was anyone just a little turned on by that?" Tony asked, fanning himself with his menu. Bruce smacked him in the back of the head on Natasha's request. Steve apologized profusely as Barton slumped, clearly wounded, in his seat.
"Oh, my god... Clint, I didn't mean to do that - I was just trying to warn you!" The super-soldier went on, apologetically, watching Natasha pull Clint against her side. He apologized all the more profusely at seeing how injured the archer looked.
Soon enough, all the waitresses began buzzing around to put things back in order. A woman with jet-black hair and piercings all through her eyebrows appeared at Bruce's side while a brunette with wire-rimmed harlequin glasses appeared at Natasha's. Together they cleared the table of all clutter, and afterwards, they unbolted the table from the floor altogether and replaced it with another less warped one.
After a little while, everything had settled down and Natasha returned from the restroom with Clint. His nose had been stuffed with tissues and his clothes, though wiped off, were sticky with various juices, syrups, and sauces.
Tony outright laughed at him. Natasha glared as she helped Barton back into the booth with Steve's assistance.
After they all settled, the blonde-haired woman that Bruce was ogling came to the table. "I hope everything is alright, now?" She asked apprehensively as she offered them all a friendly smile.
Bruce nodded, his glasses fogging as he stared long and hard at the woman's nametag. "Everything's fine... Ms. Caroline."
The blonde nodded cheerfully as she put her hand on Bruce's shoulder. "That's good to know. If you need anything, I'll be over there." She pointed to the serving counter as she spoke. "Someone will be over here shortly to replenish your table. Have a nice day." She was gone after that.
Bruce almost melted in his seat.
Tony raised his eyebrow, "Looks like someone's got a crush on the waitress." He chuckled aloud, when the scientist beside him slumped in his booth-seat. "Ms. Caroline? What are you, five!?"
"Stop being patronizing, Tony, before I have Steve smash you into the table next." Natasha threatened as she replaced the bloody tissues in Clint's nose with clean napkins from the container. Barton flinched at the mention of Steve. The super-soldier looked sullen at that.
Tony smirked wickedly. "You would want to see that, wouldn't you, Natasha?" His eyebrows waggled and the redhead threw Clint's shoe at his head. "Hey, watch it!" Tony gasped, ducking his head a moment too late and getting hit square in the forehead with a beige loafer. "Where did that even come from—Barton, didn't your parents tell you not to go out in public barefoot? ... Unless of course, you are, as I thought, an elf; then it would make perfect sense why you don't wear sh—" he was hit by the other shoe.
Tony swore before claiming the loafers as his. Sitting on them, the raven-haired man crossed his arms angrily.
Soon enough, the Avengers were swarmed by more servers as they went to cover the table with food. Since it was almost noon, no more was Tom's diner serving breakfast food. Hot dogs, hamburgers, pies and all other manners of Lunching were put onto the table and then the waitresses scurried off.
Bruce frowned as he wasn't able to thank Caroline.
"If you want her number, you could always ask." Steve suggested as he scratched at his notepad with a charcoal pencil.
"That's easy for you to say. You look like... that." Bruce frowned, slumping in his seat like a depressed teenager. "You're freakin' Adonis!—I'm... me... why would she want me, if she could have a guy like you?"
Tony sucked his teeth. "Well, first of all, Steve's dating Alice still—I think they're dating? Hell, I don't even know what they call what they're doing."
The super-soldier bristled as he snapped, "I told you; we're taking it slow!"
Tony shrugged. "Yeah, but that's only 'cause you don't want her to run away to Dublin, again." His cocksure smirk was wiped away when Steve made to grab him. "Alright, alright. I'm keeping my mouth shut from now on. God, it's a wonder why I hang out with you guys when you're all such assholes."
A loud, 'EHMMPH!' echoed across the table.
As Barton's appetite finally returned after being brutally swiped away by his humiliation, everyone else began tucking into the new food that was brought.
"Mmm, these are pretty good..." Steve said surprised as he and Tony stuffed their faces with oversized chicken-nuggets and greasy, crinkle-cut french-fries. "Too bad Thor's not here to try it. He's missing out."
If Natasha wasn't as cool as she was, she would have almost choked on her rhubarb-pie at Steve's statement. Clearing her throat as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin, the redhead regarded Steve with a foreboding stare. "And, Thor will continue to miss out. You know he's not allowed out with us."
Bruce chimed in: "She's right. Every time, without fail, he manages to break something; especially, if he has that damned hammer of his with him. Why else did we get banned from every MacDonald's in the United States?" He sounded bitter as he recalled Thor smashing several pieces of indoor-playground equipment and striking a cardboard-cut of Ronald MacDonald with lightning.
"...We—as in, all of us—were banned from MacDonald's? When did that happen?" Tony asked between mouthfuls of food. "I just signed a two-year contract with them, stating that they can use my image for their crappy-meal toys..." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Pepper's number. While he was talking to her everyone went back to talking about Thor.
"He doesn't cause any trouble when we go to MacLaren's," Barton offered, his voice sounding as though he had a bad cold: high and nasally.
Natasha grimaced before she told him to blow his nose. "Okay, mom." He said sarcastically, as he obeyed her command. Tony laughed at him, even though he was on the phone.
"Thor doesn't cause trouble at MacLaren's because he says he has 'only the utmost respect for establishments that serve mead.'" Steve replied as he went to choke down his iced-tea. As he lifted the cup to his mouth, he spotted someone behind him in the reflection of the embroidery painted around the brim glass. He paused, before turning around.
There she stood. Curly black-brown hair, scarlet red lips, and garish yellow\red waitress uniform. Her nametag read, "Max" but she totally had the aura of a Darcy.
Piercing, pale aquamarine eyes watched them warily, as Max hawked over the table. She looked as though she was expecting them to steal something. "You guys know Thor?" She asked; her light, somewhat accented voice carried over the table.
Tony shrugged as he hung up the phone. "We're the Avengers, in case you couldn't tell by our civilian clothes. Of course, we know Thor... the question is, do you know Thor... Max?"
Immediately, the dark-haired woman grabbed a chair and pulled up to the table by Steve. "Do I ever! He was the wildest person I've ever met in my life!" She exclaimed, sitting the wrong way on the chair so she could lean her head against the high-back of it. "I hit him with my car, like, three times!"
Natasha rubbed her temples. She felt a headache coming on. "Shouldn't you be working?"
Tony waved off her scathing words. "How did you meet him, Max?" He asked, genuinely curious.
Max pushed her chewing gum to the side of her mouth so it wouldn't get in the way while she told him her story. "Well, my friend, Jane, and her boss, Dr. Selvig, were in New Mexico, and—" she was interrupted by Bruce.
"You know Doctor Erik Selvig?"
Max nodded like a puppy before she continued. "It was raining and pouring, and I couldn't see at all—" her arms waved animatedly as she retold the events in a way that only she could. "And, then –WHAM!" She cried loudly as she crashed her hands together. "I HIT HIM WITH OUR VAN!"
Caroline, who was passing by the table with a tray filled with drinks, jumped at Max's shouting and almost dropped the mugs on the floor. Holding a hand to her chest, she hollered, "MAX! What the hell, you almost gave me a heart-attack!" Her chest heaved with her words.
Max smirked, "I guess we're even for yesterday when I caught you in my bathroom—" she made a rude gesture with her hands that had Tony laughing and Steve blushing. Not being able to handle this change in the conversation, Bruce excused himself to the restroom. Max laughed as Caroline stomped away red in the face. "I kid, I kid!" She called after her roommate. When she got Caroline's middle-finger in response to her words, Max laughed even harder.
Natasha hit her hand on the table. "Quiet!" She growled.
"Alright, alright..." Max said defensively. "Okay, so where was I... oh, right! After we hit Thor, we kinda didn't want to get involved with the cops, so we took him in and people-trained him... needless to say, it didn't work but it was hella fun."
Clint scoffed, "What could be fun about a gigantic, hammer-toting man-child?" Max smiled at him and, for some reason, Barton couldn't hold her stare. Blushing he looked away.
"He didn't have his hammer when we met him." Max explained, "I think that was a good thing. He probably would have pulverized us. I like my powder fine but I wouldn't want to be fine powder."
"He didn't have his hammer? When did this happen? Thor loves him hammer, I can hardly imagine a time when he wouldn't have it." Steve said with wonderment.
Max nudged him with her elbow. "He said he had been exiled from Asgard," she snorted at the name. "So, like, we had to steal his hammer back from S.H.I.E.L.D—it was insane. After that, he was like MC Hammer before all his belongings were seized by the IRS!"
Steve shrugged, "I don't know what that means." He said plainly. "But, I do know that Thor would never be without his hammer if he could help it. I'm sure, other than banishment, he's never been without it."
Suddenly, outside, the clouds turned an angry shade of onyx, as lightning forked across the sky in shades of pale violets and startling blues. "Speak of the Devil and he shall appear." Natasha muttered under her breath. Thunder rumbled and drowned out her voice. The waitresses and Thompson quavered with fear. A moment later, a raucous bolt of lightning struck the ground and sent pieces of the pavement skyward.
When the smoke cleared, Thor was seen kneeling-heroically in the crater that had just been made. As he stood, the sky cleared—and, the waitresses and patrons cleared out of Tom's diner until all but Max and Caroline were gone.
The bell on the door chimed innocently as the god of thunder entered the establishment. His head was held high and his mouth was set in a firm line. "Friends, I have been seeking you lot out all morning!" His deep voice boomed throughout the diner. Thompson fled through the back door. "I was beginning to worry for your safety—that, perhaps, you all had perished at the will of a mighty sea-serpent...!"
Steve raised his eyebrow, "There are no sea-serpents here, Thor." He assured. "We were just having breakfast... and lunch."
Thor looked jovial... and then put-out. "And, I was not invited to this wondrous feast? Why not? Have I done something wrong, Sir Steve?" The puppy-dog stare that he gave the super-soldier was enough to make Steve's resolve crumble.
"No! No, you didn't do anything wrong, Thor!" He said hastily as he stood from his chair and ushered Thor over. "We were just waiting for you, actually. Right, guys?"
Everyone, except Natasha, nodded. "Yeah, we saved some pie for you." Bruce added as he and Tony scooted up the length of the booth to give Thor a place to sit. The god laughed happily and took a seat. Spreading his arms out, he almost smashed Tony's face in with his hammer. Paying the man no mind as he floundered and fell back into Bruce's lap, Thor said: "Why, thank you, my friends! I am most honored to be allowed to feast with you all!"
Natasha's eyes narrowed into slits as she glared at Steve and then Thor. "Remember, Thor: no fighting, no lightning, no harassing anyone, and finally—NO DESTROYING PUBLIC PROPERTY. You got that?"
Thor nodded before chowing down. He stole food off of everyone else's plates but it's not like they minded as most of them had already eaten almost half their weight in food. Bits of half-masticated foodstuff went flying everywhere as Thor ate and talked at the same time. "Whem...I emquired...uhfer…wooh..wot...furry...swed...dat... I...schwould—"
"Eh, could you finish eating before you try talking?" Bruce suggested as he wiped Thor's food off his face. The god nodded eagerly before he gulped down his meal. "You know... I don't remember you ever coming back to the table..." Tony said, hoping to change the subject.
Bruce shrugged. "Well, I'm back. So, let's leave it at that."
Max drained a glass of cola before setting it on the table. "Hey, I just realized something—" She exclaimed, standing so abruptly from her chair that she almost knocked Steve out of his. "Thor's here, right now, we can ask him about his hammer!"
Thor's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, "What is it that you wish to know about Mjöllnir, Lady Darcy? Have you lot been plotting?"
Max shook her head, her curls bounced with her exuberant movements. "No, no, no... We want to know if there was ever a Thor without Meh... Meh-Jowl-Nur... ugh, the pronunciation is stupid. Has there ever been a Thor without your hammer?"
The god of thunder sat in silence for a moment before he burst out laughing. Banging his hand on the table, Thor said: "Oh, but of course, Lady Darcy! Did you think me a babe with this hammer? No, I had to earn the privilege to wield a mighty weapon such as this." He hefted Mjöllnir into view and spun it around in his grip.
Tony yelped, fearing that Thor would kill him with that thing if he wasn't careful. "Oft-times than not, I find myself misplacing Mjöllnir, as well." Thor explained, between masculine chuckles.
Clint looked perplexed. "You lost your hammer? How in the hell is that even possible?"
Thor put Mjöllnir on the table and it sagged under its massive weight. "Mjöllnir has been stolen away from me, too. You see, Sir Clint, the things that cannot happen upon Earth and things that cannot happen in the other eight worlds differ with such absolution. A mortal man could never lift Mjöllnir; but the Jötunn, Þrymr, stole it from me with such ease, I am almost ashamed to say."
"Oh, my god. That sounds so friggin' awesome!" Max all but squealed as she bounced in her seat like a toddler. "What happened? How'd you get it back?" While asking all these question Max energetically ushered Caroline over and pulled the blonde into her lap as she prepared for Story Time with Thor.
Everyone perked up in their seats, in response. Tony turned his phone off as he mumbled over his breath, "This ought to be good." Bruce nodded in agreement while watching Caroline struggle in Max's decidedly strong grip. Even Natasha, who had decided to be a spoil-sport, was eagerly anticipating Thor's tale.
Thor looked at all their expectant faces and for a moment, it seemed as though he was considering it. "Hmm, while it appears that you lot would enjoy my tale to no end… but, I am afraid that I cannot, in good conscious, regale you with such a wondrous account. My apologies, my dearest friends."
"WHAT? Why not!" The all chorused loudly.
Thor looked shocked and then utterly disrespected. "Do not question me, mortals!" He snapped, picking Mjöllnir up off the table and lifting it high above his head. Lightning struck through the ceiling and supercharged the ancient metal until it glowing with a neon-blue aura of raw electrical energy.
Tony's hair stood on end and the playboy demanded that Bruce switch spots with him. As they bickered, Thor hit the table hard with his mighty hammer. Under its impressive, other-worldly power, the table along with the dishes upon it was blown straight to smithereens!
Everyone jumped back to keep from getting hit and wounded by the shrapnel. "My word may not be law; but I request that you all to respect it as though it were." Thor boomed as he stood. "I shan't tell the story and no amount of intimidation shall convince me otherwise!"
Steve, as good-natured as anyone, laid a friendly hand on Thor's shoulder and gently coaxed him back into his seat. "At least tell us why you won't." The super-soldier said carefully.
Thor looked at him calculatingly before the god of thunder was all smiles again. It was frightening; how his mood shifted. "Ah, it appears that I had forgotten my manners. My apologies..." Thor said, placing Mjöllnir on the floor beside him. "Very well, I shall tell you my reasoning and we will leave it at that—is that agreeable?" Everyone nodded slowly. "I would fail to do the story justice while lacking my dearest brother's insights of the events. I am only one and a many things transpired; I will miss out of valuable information. I am certain of it."
Clint pinched the bridge of his nose. "You need your evil, colossal douchebag of step-brother to tell the story? What did he possibly do to play such a big role in it?" The archer asked exasperatedly.
Thor regarded him with ever-narrowing eyes. "I don't understand the meaning of some of the words you used but I can discern from your tone-of-voice that you mean to insult Loki. For that, I must say, Barton—you, at present, appear mildly battered; would you like me to add to those injuries?" The blonde shook his head hastily. Thor nodded sharply. "As I thought."
Natasha gritted her teeth: "Okay, so Thor ruined our food, chased everyone away, and now he won't even tell us a damned story… what are we still doing here?" Tony shrugged. "Well, that's it, I'm leaving." She stood up and her heeled-boots crunched in the ashes and remains of the table.
And just like that, Thor was left by himself once again.
Pouting was beneath a god of his standing but Thor didn't care. He was sad that his friends had all went away. And all because he wouldn't tell them a story!
Part of him was mad that they would be so petty; the other part had a wicked thought in mind. Why not go get Loki, so they could both tell his friends the story?
Thor had already taken flight when Thompson re-entered his diner to find it almost in ruins.
The old man dropped to his knees and screamed to the sky, "WHY!"