"We'll have an old-fashioned wedding,
Blessed in the good old-fashioned way.
I'll vow to love you forever,
You'll vow to love and honor and obey.
Somewhere in some little chapel,
Someday when orange blossoms bloom,
We'll have an old-fashioned wedding,
A simple wedding for an old-fashioned bride and groom ."
– Irving Berlin

The Avengers, and Thor, and all situations and characters thereof, belong strictly and solely to Marvel Comics. This is a fan-work, meant for enjoyment only, and not for any material profit.

Back in the day, there used to be these magazine ads with before and after pictures in them. There'd be the girl whose dry, chapped hands were keeping her from getting any fellows, or the guy with halitosis who couldn't get his boss to give him the time of the day. Then they'd use whatever it was the ad was selling, and suddenly their lives would turn around. Everything would be happy for them, and they'd get just what they always wanted. Steve's life in the Twenty-First Century, is kind of like one of those ads.

First he wakes up in the SHIELD-lab. He discovers that even though he's hugely interesting to the US Government, that doesn't actually translate out to their bothering to find him a job to do, or a decent income, or even a place to stay outside of the lab. Director Fury's the one that finds him an apartment, and it's one tiny room with an icebox and one of the strange high-tech ovens run by microwaves that everybody uses here. There's still nothing for Steve to do though, except get examined and questioned (debriefed they call it), all day every day, and then spend his off-hours working out in the gym at the local Y (Fury pays his membership). Fury says he's got a plan for him, but he waits and he waits, and nothing seems to materialize. He's starting to wonder if he ought to have agreed to the super-soldier serum in the first place. Okay so maybe he was a 98-pound weakling, back home in Brooklyn, but there were essential jobs he could have done. He could have helped out with the war effort some other way.

Then, bam! Loki turns up, and suddenly he's right in the middle of the job Fury kept promising: Tony Stark can't take an order to save his life, and Bruce Banner can, but he doesn't want to... Natasha Romanoff looks kind of like the Ingrid Bergman character in Casablanca, only she can fight better than anyone Steve's ever seen. Fury's carrying water for some more faceless higher-up bureaucrats, the kind that thought it was okay for the Army to give Steve superpowers, and then keep him in a warehouse like some kind of a lab specimen, but he's not totally a bad guy, and he knows how to get a team motivated.

One minute he's stopping a little tin-pot would-be Hitler before he can start incinerating random passers-by in Stuttgart. The next minute (almost), the Great Dictator's in cuffs like he should be, and his brother's taking him back to face justice in his own country ...world ...Or planet maybe, Steve's not really sure just exactly what Asgard is. He's gone anyway, and Steve's going back to his studio apartment to see if his milk's still good.

Then Tony Stark pops up: "So I've got this idea." He never stands still. It's one of the really annoying things about him. One of the many. He's hopping around the room. One minute he's over by Steve's microwave, the next minute he's by the window fiddling with the venetian blinds. Then he's over by the bookshelf. "Farewell to Arms? This any good?"

"I liked The Sun Also Rises better. – You were talking about a plan?"

Tony puts down the book. He turns, giving Steve all his attention (finally). "Short version: I'm re-purposing Stark Tower for Avengers' use. If we're going to be a permanent team, we need a headquarters. A Hall of Justice, if you see what I mean. - We probably need a mascot as well, I'm thinking some kind of talking space monkey would be good, but one thing at a time..."

When he finally gets to it, it turns out Tony's idea is that Steve should stay at the Tower in Manhattan: "You, and Bruce if he wants a place," he says. "Well, all of us, but Clint and Natasha are out of the country, so I haven't been able to ask them yet. There's plenty of room. You can each have your own floor, and you can set it up the way you want. – Don't say no before you think about it, Cap. This is seriously a great idea."

Actually, it seriously is. The Tower's big. There's room for all of them to have their own floor, and some more space in case they decide to add new Avengers. There's space for Tony and Bruce to work on their research, and for Steve to set up a state-of-the-art gym for his workouts. Tony's good about respecting their personal space too, way better than you'd think he would be. Their floors are their floors, and no one comes in unless they're invited. Upstairs the penthouse is there for when they want to other Avengers around.

Steve finds that once he's gotten to know them, he actually does want them around most of the time. He likes Bruce's serious attitude and Natasha's sense of responsibility. He likes Clint's dedication to perfecting his skills. - He even likes Tony, who's hiding a real conscience and a warm heart, under that shallow-playboy attitude of his. Thor, he hasn't seen since they defeated the Chitauri. He took his brother home in handcuffs and a huge metal gag. He said he'd come back if there was any more trouble.

So far things have been pretty quiet, though. There's been trouble, but it's been little trouble, something one of them, or two maybe, could handle in an afternoon. Steve's been out once on SHIELD business, tangling with a character called Abomination, who's like Bruce's Hyde-side, only with no conscience. He's heard about some other guys. Red Skull's still around apparently, and there's some guy named Green Goblin who's supposed to be a nasty piece of work. Nothing's been seen of them though, or of much of anybody else. Steve's been spending his time working out, listening to Bruce and Tony talk about their research (of which he understands about one word in every hundred), sketching whoever will sit still for him. He's got a series of paintings going: He did one from every window of the penthouse. Then he started again doing one of the view from every window in wintertime. He's starting to think he'll be ready to start again with the springtime set before there's serious trouble, and that's when Thor shows up again.

Steve comes upstairs after his shower to start breakfast. Tony's up already. "Can't talk. Coding," he says from behind his computer screen. "Bring me some coffee when you've got it made, okay?"

Because he doesn't have anything better to do with his time than bring everyone coffee, right. It's just Tony's way though, and Steve tries to ignore it. He loads the Folgers into the drip machine and starts it going. "What time did you get to sleep last night?"

"Didn't. Sleep is for pussies." – Steve bites his tongue instead of protesting the language. – "UN wants to use my power-cell. Still need a couple of things before the demo at ten."

Cheery bubbling sounds are the coffee getting ready on the counter. Steve sniffs the aroma, then pulls a pack of bacon out of the fridge (speaking of good aromas). He fires up the burner under the frying pan.

He's about halfway through his breakfast when Thor shows up: Tony's left his computer and he's over by the table mooching food. "I hate you." He grabs a slice of bacon off Steve's plate. "Singlehandedly you're ruining my cholesterol-count." Puppy-dog eyes watch as Steve slices into his second over-easy fried egg and sops the yolk with buttered toast.

Steve glares. "You made me promise I wouldn't cook breakfast for you any more."

"I lied."

"Unlike you, I keep my word."

"Fine then, you selfish bastard, I'll cook my own."

When he hears the first crack of thunder, Steve thinks it's Tony digging in the cupboard for his pan, because God forbid he should just use the cast iron one Steve's got. It's not until the second boom that he identifies the source of the noise. Maybe that's because by then, the source is standing there in the middle of the kitchen.

"Well met, my friends." Thor looks harried. Circles under his eyes speak of lack of sleep, and his hair is standing up in about a hundred and one directions. As Steve watches, he combs his hands through it again, disorganizing it even further. "Had I my wish, we would be meeting under better circumstances."

"Yes, but what are the circumstances, Point Break?" Tony pours himself some coffee. At a look from Thor, he pours him a cup too. Then he brings a third cup to Steve at the table. "What are we looking at here?" He motions his hand with the coffee cup in it. "Alien invasion? Another attack by your crazy brother?"

Thor winces at the mention of Loki. "Indeed I wish the problem were so simple, Friend Tony." He fumbles, bringing something out of whatever Asgardians have that passes for their pockets. "I need your help with this."

He tosses whatever it was onto the table, where it unfolds into an envelope of creamy, expensive-looking paper. On the back, what remains of of a fancy wax-seal shows an imprint of the letter "D".

Steve looks at it uncomprehending. "Somebody sent you an invitation."

"My brother." Thor gestures toward the envelope. "Pray look, my friends. I fear I cannot proceed with this problem without your help."

It's Steve who slides the card out of the envelope. Stiff parchment-paper, with the uneven surface on the back that shows it's real engraving. "The free people of Latveria," it says, "cordially invite you to attend the upcoming nuptials of our benevolent ruler Dr. Doom, and Loki of Asgard. In lieu of gifts, the bride/groom and groom request that you make donations in their name to the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants."

"Jesus Christ!" Steve barely mouths the words.

"Look there." Tony nudges him and points at the note in green pen at the bottom.

"Do say you'll come, brother. This promises to be quite entertaining."