Keeping Up With The Avengers (Season 1)
[Episode 1: New Ventures]
Wanda's iPhone is on the verge of sliding off the slanted steel bookshelf that Tony had promised to adjust (but never got around to doing). A ringed hand grabs it and we see Wanda bring her teal-cased phone up to her face, scrolling quickly through the lock screen's notifications.
20 minutes ago: Clint to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
Going shopping. Anyone want to go with?
20 minutes ago: Natasha to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
Nope. Going out with the Falcs and our green guy.
20 minutes ago: Steve to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
I'm ojs.
20 minutes ago: Clint to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
What
17 minutes ago: Steve to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
Sorry. I meant to say I'm olay.
17 minutes ago: Steve to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
*Okay.
17 minutes ago: Steve to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
Ah trxting
17 minutes ago: Tony to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
Someone get this guy a wheelchair.
16 minutes ago: Steve to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
I'm not that old!
16 minutes ago: Tony to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
Sure you aren't. Hawky, I'm having lunch with Pepper so count me out.
15 minutes ago: Clint to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
ok. And don't call me that please
15 minutes ago: Tony to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
lol ok Legolas.
15 minutes ago: Clint to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
haha. Real funny pal.
15 minutes ago: Bucky to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
I'll go
15 minutes ago: Tony to Group Chat: super-cool losers
Wait seriously?
15 minutes ago: Bucky to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
Ygeah
14 minutes ago: Clint to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
Ok. Meet me outside.
14 minutes ago: Bucky to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
C u
14 minutes ago: Tony to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
Whoa wait wait. Is it going to be your first time, bucky?
14 minutes ago: Bucky to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
To a mall yes
14 minutes ago: Tony to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
Wowow our boy growin up now.
14 minutes ago: Tony to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
Or mayb I should say growing younger hehe
13 minutes ago: Bruce to Group Chat: "super-cool losers"
stop spamming the chat
Wanda laughs and grabs a book off of the shelf, casually tossing her phone onto her bed.
Instead of driving, the two men walk ("What's your problem with cars again, Bucky?" "Too fast."), and along the way, Clint makes good time explaining the economics of shopping these days.
"You mean, there's really more than a hundred brands in that place?" Bucky says, turning to Clint wide-eyed.
"Yup. It's pretty big."
"I'll say." Bucky turns quiet, thinking about how he used to pop into a certain store to visit his and Steve's mutual friend, Tommy. That good old shop was large in his opinion, but that was back then, and now? The just enough space to lean on the counter and sweet-talk the girl working at the cash register definitely appears meagre in comparison to the malls Clint is talking about.
The two walk in a content silence down the trashed and bustling streets of Manhattan, one man with his hands clasped behind his flannel-clad back, the other with his hands stiffly held at his sides, due to one over-bearing metal arm that he still hasn't become accustomed to.
The sun shines off both of their dark heads.
[MEANWHILE]
Bruce, Natasha, and Sam step into the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Sam is secretly wonder-struck by the magnificent columns that seem to stretch on forever on the outside facade of the museum, only to find that inside, his breath is once more taken away by the vast domes overhead. Natasha and Bruce share a smile at the sight of Sam's awe-inspired silence.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Natasha nudges Sam's side, chuckling.
He turns and looks at her dreamily. "I think I've discovered something better than cheeseburgers."
"Wow," Bruce says. "That good, eh?" Nodding absently in response, Sam practically skips into to the nearest art gallery room, completely ignorant of the fact that Natasha and Bruce are left standing in the middle of the mob.
"Uh." Bruce looks around, lost in the crowd of people drowning out each other's voices. "Should we follow him?"
"Hmm," Natasha speaks thoughtfully. "Maybe we should leave him alone. Let him enjoy himself."
Bruce and Natasha walk up the stairs, in search of her favourite exhibit, the one with "Boating" by Edouard Manet. They make their way leisurely through the swarm of families, art critics, fanatics, and couples.
[MEANWHILE]
Tony sits at a linen-covered table set for two. He unconsciously re-arranges the flower bouquet in the centre, moving around the washed-out-orange tulips and soft-yellow peonies. Then he anxiously glances at his shiny black Rolex watch, shaking his foot under the table.
Wide floor to ceiling glass windows provide a vista across the city bustling below, and because the restaurant is placed in a spot just so when Tony tries hard enough, he can see the Avengers' Mansion.
He takes in a few deep breaths, along with the view, squinting into the bright sunlight.
A slender pale hand is placed gently on his shoulder. "Hey," Pepper Potts says. "Sorry, I'm late. I was held up at work. You know how that is." She pulls out the dark wooden chair, twin to the one Tony's sitting in, and sets her navy purse in between her back and the chair's.
"Yeah. No. That's fine! I know how it is. That's fine." Tony had turned his head to look at her so quickly that he had received a crick, and is now massaging it out as he replies, neck still craned at an awkward angle. "I ordered for us already."
"Hmm," she says, glancing down at the plate set before her. "Wow! Smoked salmon with rosemary, my favourite! You remembered!"
Pepper smiles, and suddenly Tony finds it hard to breathe normally. "Shall we get started?"
[MEANWHILE]
"Clint, I have a question." Bucky is watching as Clint is trying on a hideous purple windbreaker. Why anyone would have that in stock completely surpassed Bucky's thinking capabilities, other than that they were made for people with Clint's odd fashion taste.
They have been walking around the mall for a couple hours now, moving in and out of the different stores and purchasing things of varying levels of usefulness. Like the oddly shaped porcelain bookends that Clint seemed intent on buying, the strangely expensive French press coffee maker, and the hammerhead shark shaped gold bottle opener. Yeah. Useful.
But Bucky had bought some new pairs of jeans from his new favourite store 'Gap', and new long-sleeved shirts to replace the ones that he's always ripping, so it wasn't all that bad.
"Yeah?" Clint turns and looks in the mirror, his face portraying no emotion other than satisfaction. He adjusts the jacket on himself in small movements, checking himself out with the zipper up and with it down.
"Is purple your favourite colour?"
"What?" Clint turns to Bucky confused. "Why would it be?"
"Well," Bucky is uncertain how to begin. "You seem to wear it a lot."
"I do?" Clint seems astonished and apparently unconscious of the fact that his sneakers are dark purple, as well as the majority of the t-shirts he had just purchased.
"Yes?" Bucky pulls out one of the t-shirts from the shopping bag. He holds it up, studying it carefully to make sure he is not mistaken. He's not. It's not a bad shade of purple, rather a pretty shade of mauveine. "What is this to you then, Clint?
"Uh, grey." Clint's face is dead serious. A terse pause ensues. "Um, what colour is it to you?"
"Purple, Clint," Bucky says worriedly. "Purple."
[MEANWHILE]
Having found 'Boating', and having thoroughly discussed the great skills of Manet, Natasha and Bruce have moved on to the rest of the Impressionists. They walk side by side, the red-head moving with ease, stepping lightly around the little children, while the larger moves with heavy feet.
Bruce stops in front of a painting done by Degas, titled 'The Dancing Class'. Natasha's smile slides off her face as she studies the subjects of the picture impassively, a peculiar expression on her face. One solitary ballerina graces the room with her presence as she stands in the middle of it, her gaze on the ground in front of her, and a small smile on her lips. There are two ballerinas watching her from the piano, where an old man sits playing the violin.
"Have you heard the saying, life imitates art?" Bruce asks. "Without art, can life exist? Without life, can art exist? And dancing! Oh, how dancing is a form of art! It's quite beautiful, is it not, Natasha?"
"Very," Natasha says wistfully. "Very." Bruce watches her carefully. "I knew a ballerina once," Natasha continues in a strong voice. "She was beautiful. And her dancing was a level unto itself. She danced with such joy, that I wanted to be like her."
Bruce encourages her by nodding.
"I watched her every single day, wishing that I too could be like her," Natasha says, laughing sadly. "Then one day, her husband came and took her away."
"And did she return?"
"Yes. I remember the day clearly. My best friend, Marina, warned me not to go again, saying I would go hungry without begging that day. But in the room, they say hunger only sharpens the mind. So I ran to go see her. The prima ballerina. But when she came out of the car, she was broken. Everything in her was broken. Her husband had broken her." At this, she punches the leather seat of the large sofa they are sitting on. "The only thought I had, was, now she can't dance."
"What did you do?"
"I did something I would regret for the rest of the future."
[MEANWHILE]
"So, Tony," Pepper is gracefully eating her smoked salmon, chewing in small bites. "I'm about to ask a HUGE favour of you."
"Yeah?" Tony puts down the fork he was attacking his linguini with, with a clatter.
Pepper raises her eyebrows slightly. "Uh, I have to go to Los Angeles for a business trip. You know, the big tech company situated there? They want me to consider sponsoring them for this- "
" -Yes, of course I'll go with you!" Tony grins a genuine grin this time.
She blinks. "Oh, Tony," Pepper hesitates, then continues anxiously. "I was actually going to ask you if you could take care of my sister's kid for the time I'm gone. She asked me to, and I can't just refuse her, especially because she can't really find anyone else right now... And..."
"Of course."
"Really?"
"No! I hate kids!"
"Oh." Immediately Pepper looks devastated.
Tony quickly ad-libs. "I, uh, I'm being sarcastic."
"Oh."
Cue the awkward silence.
Off-screen voice: "So, Tony, how long have you and Pepper been dating?"
Tony (arms crossed, indignant look): "We're not dating."
Off-screen voice: "Then what are you two?"
Tony mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "Gee, maybe that's what I've been wondering this whole time. What am I? Her goddamn babysitter for hire?".
[MEANWHILE]
Bruce is repeating his question. "What did you do?"
"I threw a brick at her husband's car. My friend, my best friend, tried to stop me, but I just did it. So impulsively. And his chauffeur came after me, chased me into an alley. I, well, I shot the man. And they found out. They always find out. They took me back into the Red Room. And they decided that me shooting another meant I was ready for the mission field.
"She was so beautiful. I wish I could dance like that, I thought. I wish I was so good."
Bruce is quiet.
"I was ten years old. I just wanted to be a dancer. A prima ballerina like her." Natasha looks defiant.
She speaks once more. "Marina, my best friend, died because of me. Died because I threw that brick and fast-forwarded my initiation. Died because after my speedy training I was chosen to for a mission in Cuba that ended with me putting a gun to her back. And pulling the trigger.
"I'm a monster."
Finally, Bruce opens his mouth. "When I was a kid, I decided that I didn't want to be a scientist like my father. He, ah, was an alcoholic, to put it lightly, and I thought if I became a physicist I would become just like him. Well, look at me now, eh?"
Natasha twists her mouth into a crooked smile.
"I suppose I did become like him in a way, too," he continues quietly. "I'm exactly like my father when I'm in the green.
"So, you think you're a monster, Natasha?" Bruce asks calmly.
They sit in silence. Two monsters sitting in silence, enjoying each other's company.
[MEANWHILE]
"What do you mean the shirt's purple, Bucky?" Clint grabs the t-shirt and looks at it fiercely.
"I mean it's purple, Clint," Bucky says warily. "It's goddamn purple."
"No, it's not, Bucky," Clint counters. "It's grey. It's freaking grey."
"Purple."
"Grey."
"Purple!"
"Grey!"
"Can I help you?" Both men jump at the sound of a third voice chiming in. A teenage boy is standing in front of them, his pimpled face looking a little confused, shifting his weight back and forth from his heels to his toes. "I can get it in another colour if you would like."
"Oh, no, no," Clint says. "My friend here is just a little confused as to what colour this shirt is."
The teenager looks suspiciously at the shirt and mulls over his answer before giving it. "Purple?"
"Ha!" Bucky exclaims triumphantly. The blood drains out of Clint's face.
"WHAT?" Clint's mouth is wide open.
"Uh, I'll just leave you two now. Let me know if you need anything else." The boy scampers off, practically running away.
The fluorescent lighting in the store suddenly makes Clint dizzy and he walks outside reeling.
"Hello?" Bruce answers Clint's phone call, sounding a little startled. "Clint? Are you okay?"
"Yeah- "
" -No he's not, he thinks purple is grey," Bucky interrupts enthusiastically, putting his face near the phone. Clint pushes his stubbled cheek away.
"Um, what?" Bruce answers. He starts laughing. "I would probably say that you're colour-blind, Clint."
"Colour-blind?" Bucky and Clint exclaim in unison.
"Whoa," Bucky says. "That definitely explains A LOT."
[MEANWHILE]
"It's like taking care of a dog! Just feed him and take him out sometimes," Pepper is instructing to Tony. "It won't be that hard."
"And he's how old again?" Tony's face is impassive. He is clearly not amused by this whole situation.
"Five."
"Hmm. Ok. And you expect me to keep him at the compound with me? With our dysfunctional groups of superheroes that barely qualify as adults?"
"Don't be so hard on them! You guys are awesome. Just be sure to watch your language around him."
"Oh, this sounds like a perfect job for our Mr Captain America. Did you consider him?"
Pepper looks slightly hurt. "Well, Tony, obviously I'm closer to you than him."
"So you did consider it."
"No! Tony, you don't have to do it if you don't want to."
"Did I say I wasn't going to do it?"
"Well, no... So you'll do it?"
"Yes, Pepper," Tony says grudgingly. "I'll do it." Pepper reaches over and gives Tony a one-armed hug, beaming and completely unaware of the deep shade of red Tony is turning.
"Thank you so much, Tony!"
"Yeah, yeah. You owe me one."
Off-screen voice (camera facing Tony sitting in front of the magnificent restaurant windows): "Soooooo looks like you're our resident babysitter now."
Tony (intense stare into camera): "I'm going to be the best resident babysitter now. It's all or nothing."
Off-screen voice (as camera is swinging around to the view outside the window): "Are you sure it's not to impress Pepper or anything? Just an idea."
Tony (now off-screen): "No. Shut up."
[MEANWHILE]
"Clint, are you ok?" Bucky asks in a concerned tone.
"No! I guess I... I don't know. I've always thought grey was my favourite colour, but I guess it wasn't grey after all," Clint sighs heavily and plops onto the bench next to Bucky.
"This is all really confusing."
"I agree."
"Shall we get coffee?" Ever since Bucky discovered Starbucks, he has never been the same, really, and it's become his remedy to almost everything. Foot pain? Caramel macchiato should solve it. Headache? Try a vanilla bean frappe. Oh, you just broke up with your girlfriend and your dog died the same day? Staarrbuuuckkkss. (Steve claims that Bucky sang it out like that one time, true story.)
"Might as well."
The pair walks into the nearest Starbucks.
Off-screen voice: "So how do you feel?"
Bucky (sipping an iced hazelnut macchiato): "Well, I feel great."
Clint (chewing on straw of a frappuccino drink; really high squeaky voice): "I'M FINE! *coughs nervously, voice goes much deeper* I'm fiiineeee."
[MEANWHILE]
Bruce's smile remains on his face even after the phone call as he shoves his phone back into his pocket.
"What was that about?" Natasha asks.
Bruce laughs. "Guess what we found out?"
"He's scared of pigeons, isn't he? I knew it because one time we were out walking and then he jumped when..." Bruce lets her go on a little bit longer, then interjects.
"He's colour blind!"
Natasha bursts out laughing.
Natasha (sitting next to Bruce on museum sofa; her straight red hair resting on her shoulders): "I guess I should have seen this coming. He's always had the weirdest taste in clothing, but I never questioned it really because he's just a little, er, quirky like that. And I suppose after SHIELD gave him that odd purple super-suit, we all just assumed it was his favoured colour."
Bruce: "I just thought he really really really liked purple."
The famed Avengers gather around the dinner table that night, clamouring over each other about the day's events.
Bucky is teasing Sam about his newfound passion for art, while Bruce listens amused, interposing every so often with a random fact about a particular painter or art movement.
Clint and Steve laugh over Clint's colour-blindness, Steve claiming that he didn't even suspect. This, Clint takes slightly to offence, reasoning to himself that it's because everyone just assumes he has an odd fashion taste.
As they make their way through the burnt pasta Steve cooked while they were all out, Natasha asks Tony about his "date" with Pepper, to which he becomes extremely defensive. Wanda begins to chastise Tony about being nice to Pepper while Tony becomes redder and redder. He quickly clears his throat and promptly begins to change the subject, addressing the whole table.
"So today, Pepper asked me- "
"Oooooo," Sam sings, wiggling his eyebrows.
Tony glares and continues, "To take care of- "
Suddenly the doorbell rings, and everyone looks at each other.
"Uh, I didn't invite anyone else this time, I swear," Clint says, holding his hands up.
"Bucky, did you butt-dial the pizza man again?" Steve asks.
Bucky protests, "I was about to ask you the same thing, old man!"
"Gentlemen, please, act your age," Natasha says as she rolls her eyes at the pair of them, and trudges down the stairs to get the door.
There is a terse silence as everyone waits to find out who the newcomer is...
"AH, NATASHA!" A booming voice declares. "I HAVE FOUND THIS YOUNGLING ON THE STEPS OF YOUR HOUSE, HIS PARENTS APPEAR NOT TO BE AROUND."
"Brother, dear," says a much quieter voice loaded with sarcasm. "Can you speak any louder? Everything you say is sooo interesting."
"Aha," Tony says grinning. "It appears as if our two favourite gods have arrived.
"Along with another that I was about to introduce."
AN: Thanks for sticking through with this one, I feel like it got a little dark as we digressed into the backstories of Bruce and Natasha. Please feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think :)
