Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers or anything associated with them, and I'm not making a profit by posting this story.

Quick Note: Sorry for the extremely limited science descriptions. I actually did the research on wormholes, but I just couldn't seem to absorb the information properly. Please excuse the lapse.

Also, a big shout out to everyone who followed and favorited, and of course to those who reviewed: Lupin fan1, Susan M. M, Qweb, and PercyJacksonTheAwesome. You guys are great and your feedback is really inspiring.

I finished this chapter pretty quickly and couldn't wait to post it. Make sure to let me know what you think, and if the story should be continued or not (It could definitely end here). I also love suggestions. Right now, I'm working on a possible chapter three, which has decided to be difficult, but I should update within a few days, probably between Monday and Wednesday.

Chapter II

Thor insisted on holding the gift-giving first. No one argued except for Stark, but beneath his casual "Nah," the thunder god could tell that he was just as excited as everyone else. Most people didn't give Thor credit for perceptiveness, but he could also tell that Stark did not truly feel as festive as he appeared on the surface. There was a certain hesitance in all his actions, as if he was not at ease. That, Thor could not understand, but he hoped that opening the gifts would make the guest of honor feel better.

-A-

Tony sat in the middle of a couch, the rest of the group crowding around him. It wasn't long before a rectangular package, wrapped in quaint patterned paper, was handed to him. He didn't even have to look at the label to know that it was from Steve. The others called for him to open it, so he did, going through the motions rather mechanically.

He smirked when he uncovered the present, a snarky comment in his head - Monopoly, Cap, really? - but couldn't bring himself to voice it. Everyone was laughing, and Steve was smiling, clearly proud of his joke.

"Figured you might benefit from something simple, Stark," Steve said.

"Thanks, Spangles," Tony replied, but he hoped that the other man would understand that he didn't mean it maliciously.

Pepper handed the board game to Dummy, promising everyone that they could play it later if they wanted. "Who's next?" she asked.

Natasha stepped forward, wearing her usual emotionless expression, with Clint a step behind. They each handed him an envelope. Tony took them uncertainly, playing off his hesitation with a simple, "Are these things safe to open?" Hey, when master assassins were birthday party guests, it was better safe than sorry. He wouldn't have put it past them to not have slipped bombs in somehow.

He opened Natasha's first - she was more likely to try to kill him, so it was better to get it over with - and found that the card played "Shoot to Thrill," which was apparently a private joke between them now. Although the card itself was pretty standard, the note inside was not. "Read it," Rhodey called, plainly curious as to what a spy had to say to him.

Tony cleared his throat, checked to see that everyone was listening, and read Natasha's perfect cursive. "This entitles the bearer to four one-hour self-defense courses, to be held on the common floor gym at six o'clock on Sunday mornings starting immediately." And below that, "Happy Birthday, Stark, from Romanoff."

He couldn't think of anything to say to that, not something that would preserve his reputation, anyway, not something like Thank you. Even though he knew that she'd probably done this just for the chance to beat him up (not that he'd ever admit she could), there was always the possibility that she wanted him to be able to take care of himself even without the suit. That however much she might protest otherwise, she didn't really want him to die just yet.

Clint had a similar offer of four one-hour archery lessons, though he explained to everyone that he just wanted Tony to stop badgering him to teach him.

Rhodey also had a card, filled with comments like, "Hope that the rest of your adventures are as exciting as the others," but also with a few short statements like "Stay safe," that meant a lot more.

Doctor Selvig and Jane had collaborated, having created an extremely small-scale sculpture of the galaxy that included what was apparently the most accurate physical model of a Schwarzschild wormhole ever. Tony had to tear his attention away from the encyclopedia-thick document detailing their work, sure that they had discovered something that might one day lead to faster space travel. Fury looked a little too interested in that particular gift, so Tony kept it next to him instead of giving it over to Dummy. He still didn't trust the director of SHIELD as much as he probably should. He knew that most of his teammates shared that opinion, too, so he really had no idea why Eye Patch and his Number One had been invited.

Darcy slipped him a card and a wrapped-up Transformers DVD, because she'd laughed hysterically two weeks ago when she'd found out that he'd never seen it.

Thor was next, a huge smile on his face as he dropped a large box into Tony's lap. The billionaire shot a quizzical glance at Jane, but she just shook her head and said, "I only helped with the wrapping paper."

Tony ripped off the red-and-gold paper and found a wooden crate, which Dummy opened. Inside was a very Thor-esque gift: a small dagger with a single ruby embedded in the hilt, and a matching sheath. "And . . . I'm supposed to use this?"

Thor nodded. "In case you do not have your armor."

Tony glanced up and caught Natasha's eye. She obviously approved of the gift, and murmured congratulations to the Asgardian for choosing such a useful item.

"Hey," Pepper said, nudging Tony. "What else is in there?"

Everyone pressed closer, trying to peer into the crate. Tony reached in and held up - something. Was that a sweater? A quilt? No, it was embroidery.

"My mother, the lady Frigga, heard that we did not have a battle standard, so she stitched one with her own hands."

They all looked intently at the apparent work of art. The Avengers "A" was in the center of the tapestry-like banner, worked in silver against a black background. The wide border was intricate and much more colorful, showing scenes of the team members and a few others. Tony spotted himself flying upwards, with the nuke on his back, in the upper right corner, and a bunch of other times throughout the standard.

"Why is all that so accurate?" Hill asked. "I mean, those likenesses are exact."

Thor shrugged as if it were no big deal. "My mother's skill."

"I'll make sure this is hung in a prominent place, Thor," Pepper said, and Tony guessed that she already had a spot picked out.

Tony set the crate and standard aside and leaned towards the thunder god. "Tell your mom thanks, big guy." For some reason, it was a little strange to fully realize that Thor was the only one on the team who had a living mother, and that however old he might be in earth years, in Asgardian counting he was little more than a kid.

Bruce stepped forward, holding a sheaf of papers as thick as Selvig and Jane's document had been. Tony took it from him and flipped through it, feeling his expression change to one of utter disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

The other scientist shook his head, rather sheepishly. "Well, I figured it out a while ago, but I wasn't completely sure and I didn't want to disappoint you."

Tony decided to clue everyone else in. "Bruce here discovered a solution to a problem we encountered in the clean energy scheme." He knew he had to speak simply with them, otherwise he'd lose them. He felt shocked, and he didn't know how Banner had done it. He'd have to read the report from the beginning. Whoa. "I can't believe I never thought to use the Planck constant. You're a genius!"

Bruce wrung his hands and stared at the floor, blushing. "Just doing my job."

"All right, guys, how about some food?" Pepper asked, clapping her hands once for order. Her offer was met with yells of approval, and, as if she had flipped a switch, the group moved quickly to the large dining table. Tony stayed behind, making a show of straightening up the wrapping paper and gifts, giving himself time to get a hold of himself because he'd been on autopilot, just reacting as he was supposed to and not really thinking. How could they do this? How dare they? He had personal space rights, didn't he? He couldn't let them do this, because once people broke those personal space barriers, someone always ended up getting hurt. Tony didn't want them to get hurt. None of them could deal with more suffering (well, sure they could, but he didn't want them to have to, and he especially didn't want their pain to be on his account). This was all so confusing. The worst part was that it wasn't a party like he was used to, with teeming crowds and screaming girls and complete anonymity (the latter because nobody really cared, not at those parties). This was like . . . Like something Tony didn't fully comprehend. Like family.

He'd never done anything to deserve this. Those times when he'd put his life on the line, those were just saving the world, doing his job, trying desperately to make up for everything he'd done before.

Come on, Stark, pull yourself together, he told himself. If he stayed away any longer, his guests would suspect that something was wrong. Deep breaths.

"Come on, Tony!" Pepper called. "We didn't order food so that you could eat it cold."

He mustered a grin and stood up quickly. "I just wanted to give the Blondies a chance to show off their spectacular microwave skills." Fortunately, the comment earned him some laughs, which made him feel confident enough to take a seat at the dining table. Unfortunately, the only space left was next to Fury. Tony still didn't know why the head of SHIELD had been invited, or why he'd actually shown up after being invited. While the other guests chattered noisily, Fury and Hill stayed pretty much silent, occasionally addressing short comments exclusively to each other unless someone asked them a direct question. Tony was feeling more and more uncomfortable.

His teammates seemed to sense the awkwardness of the situation, as well. "What did you think of your gifts?" Steve asked, admirably trying to distract him.

Grateful for the thread of conversation, he jumped to answer, in a tone that hovered between sarcasm and honesty. "Oh, they were fantastic."

"Actually," Fury said, startling the hell out of him and probably everyone else, "there's one more present left."

The music was blasting, the lights were flashing, and laughter and talk were loud, with drinks all around. Confetti was still flying through the air when a dead man walked into the room.

"Surprise," Coulson said.

Hahaha I love cliffhangers, don't you? Whether you agree or not, leave a review! (And yes, that does indeed rhyme.)