Drabble One: Lunch Time
A short chirp rings through the air ship. It is 13:00 hours, lunch time for those on the second shift, this including the famous Avengers. For a team of super heroes belonging to a secretive elite organization, lunch is fairly normal. The airship has a cafeteria, but some still bring their lunch. Natasha and Clint are first in the meeting room, a large rectangular office with a plain oval table at the center. They take up their seats and Clint hands Natasha her lunch, both of theirs made especially by his wife. Banner comes in next, absent-mindedly juggling a tray full of cafeteria food as he is immersed in a book. The corner of Natasha's mouth twitches up in a smile as he roams his way to the seat next to her. Thor strides in with confidence, carrying a plastic bag full of take out. He sits down and animatedly strikes up a conversation with Clint, showing off that he went to a Chinese restaurant and successfully ordered take out for the first time.
The Captain comes in next, briefly pausing at the doorway to scan the room. He gives Natasha a polite nod of acknowledgement when their eyes meet. He places his plastic tray of food at his place at the table and slips into his seat. Settling in, he habitually adjusts his posture. A couple moments later Tony comes in, last as always. His hair is a bit messy, as if he had run his fingers through it in thought a couple times too many. He was missing the usual oil stains and grit, so Steve surmised he must have been drafting or programming today. Tony takes off his sunglasses, tucking them away swiftly into his jacket pocket. He looks around the room with a bright smile on his face that would appear a little cocky if you didn't know him well.
"Hello lovelies, hope you weren't all waiting for me." He greets. Tony sets his bag behind his chair and takes up the seat between Captain and Thor, directly across from Natasha. "Ooo nice brown baggy you got there Agent Romanoff, did it come with note too?"
"Mine did." Clint chimes in, an amused grin on his face. "I'm loved lots."
Natasha quirks up an eyebrow, and plucks a note from the bag between two graceful fingers. "Looks like I got one too." For a moment a slightly devilish smirk plays at her lips. "Oh its from your daughter, wishing 'Aunty Nat' a good day." She smiles warmly this time. Clint sulks a bit.
"Where is your lunch Tony?" Captain points out.
Tony claps his hands together, eyes wide in surprise. "I had almost forgot, thank you Cap, truly." He reaches slowly into his bag and retrieves his lunch pale. All eyes are on it, even Banner puts down his notes. It is a metal lunch pale, one of the vintage ones kids used to carry. It was a collectible one though, decked out in a fancy paint job rendering Captain America striking a victory pose. Steve glances at the lunch pale, and then locks his eyes to the ceiling, trying his hardest to concentrate on being expressionless. Clint and Banner burst out laughing, sharing a look between them to convey the hilariousness of the situation. Natasha sinks back into her tall leather seat, a sly half smile curved onto her face. She tilts her head slightly towards Stark, lifting an eyebrow in silent approval.
The whole situation is lost on Thor, who is merely impressed by the artistry of the box. "What a fine container!" He booms. "Such artistry in the depiction. What great deed did you accomplish to be emblazoned so?" Tony's face is the definition of smug when the rest of the room laughs harder. Steve shuts his mouth tighter, piercing his lips, and shaking his head slightly. He thrums his fingers against the table, trying not to loose his patience.
"Isn't it nice?" Tony replies. "It's a collectible. Very hard to get. But I had to have it."
"I can see why." Natasha adds. Tony beams at her.
"Let's just get on with the meeting." Steve murmurs.
"I agree Cap, not enough time, plenty to talk about."
The Captain eyes him a little suspiciously, but continues. "First order of business then. There has been-" The Captain doesn't get to finish his sentence, cut off by a new wave of laughter. He glares over at Tony, who is pouring himself a drink from the matching thermos, ever too pleased with himself. Embarrassment washes over him when he realizes the thermos is painted as himself, the body of it painted as his uniform, and the attached cup his face and helmet. Captain stands up, unable to contain himself.
Tony calls after him, "Where are you going Cap? Don't you want a drink?"