Yeah, I know this chapter is so far from canon that it's practically in a different universe, but bear with me.


"What's your status, Captain Purity?" Tony drawled, faintly mimicking the southern twang that was emanating from the speakers that seemed to surround the room. Steve simply raised an eyebrow in confusion, his concentration on the article he was reading so rudely interrupted by the billionaire. He didn't bother to respond, hoping the man would return to whatever mundane task he was busy completing not moments ago. "And what's this shit on the radio?"

"I happen to like country music," Barton announced from his seat in the middle of the couch, surrounded by Steve on his left and Romanoff, who had stopped tapping her fingers on the screen of her phone, on his right.

"Ah, of course, who else would it be?" Tony deadpanned before waving his hand in the air, the motion being detected by Jarvis's sensors as a cue to change the station.

"Hey!" Clint pouted, crossing his arms in frustration as Tony hopped on the love seat opposite the couch, the fluffy cushions letting out a slight hiss as he sank down.

"Back to my original question," Tony began, the corners of his mouth that had been curved into a wicked smile suddenly dropping, matching the tone of his now-completely serious voice. "Jarvis's sensors, S.H.I.E.L.D. intel, and my own research have indicated that, well... I don't know how to tell you this," Tony paused, his eyes landing on Steve, who was still doing his best to ignore Tony. Natasha and Clint, however, were all business, and Bruce, who had been tinkering at the coffee table looked up at his team. Thor stopped his rifling through the cabinets and turned his attention to Tony.

"Spit it out, Stark!" snapped Natasha, annoyed at the man drawing out what could potentially be a deadly threat. She felt offended for a moment that S.H.I.E.L.D. would contact Stark, of all people, first, but she pushed the emotion aside, noting to herself that she needed to have a discussion with Fury after this about agent priorities and need-to-know information.

"Well, our sources indicated that Steven Grant Rogers," Tony sighed, running his hands through his hair in a worry, "alias 'Capatin America''s virginity has yet to be compromised."

Silence permeated the six Avengers. Steve slowly lowered the newspaper he had been reading a few inches, which had been hiding his face from Tony, and revealed his eyes, meeting the man with a positively icy glare. The stare down dragged on for what could have been hours, and, to Tony's credit, he did not break; his deadpan stare had not even cracked. It was Bruce's stifled coughing that broke the silence, Tony turning to him in surprise with a smug grin plastered across his face.

Natasha's slap across Tony's face caused his smile to slightly falter. Slightly. The crack of skin upon skin wasn't nearly as loud as it was when Tony questioned the Captain's sexuality that one time, but it was still enough to sting.

"I do not understand. Where does the Captain's virginity rest? Is it not for the best that it has yet to be tampered with?" asked Thor quizzically, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"I'll explain it to you later," Clint replied without turning around to Thor, his stare still focused on Tony, who was surveying the room for laughter, only to find the rest of the team - save for Thor - stifled and uncomfortable.

When his gaze finally rested upon Steve again, the newspaper was in his lap, and his stare was locked onto Tony like a missile locks on to a target. His ears were a deep red, the blood gathering across his cheeks as well. This, however, was not a blush; it was different. Angry, Tony thought.

A white-hot fury matched the fire in his eyes, and in a moment, it was gone. The tension in Steve's body suddenly disappeared, his shoulders relaxing and the flush leaving his cheeks. He dipped his head backward and let out a hearty laugh, his deep voice echoing around the living room. He reached out, grasping Tony's shoulder, and no, Clint did not flinch because he thought that this was going to be how Tony Stark met his death.

"Good one, Mr. Stark," Steve made a purposeful swipe at his eyes, wiping away the tears of laughter. "Virgin!" Steve laughed again, making it sound as though Tony's assumption was absolutely the most ridiculous idea ever crafted.

"What?!" Tony practically squeaked, and Steve's booming laughter immediately cranked up to eleven.

"Tony, I was on USO tours for six months. I may be a gentleman, but I'm still a man, after all!" Steve choked out when his laughter subsided to a gentle chuckle.

"How... how many of them?" Tony blurted out, confused.

"Let's see, there was Betty, Ruth, Elizabeth, Agnes," Steve began counting on his fingers, each additional one sending Tony into a further state of shock before Steve suddenly stopped. "You know what, I think... But, wait, Dorothy?" Steve contorted his face in concentration before a light almost visibly went off in his head, and he abruptly smacked his forehead with his hand. "Of course, Dorothy! How could I forget? So, yeah, twelve."

"You slept with twelve women." Natasha's voice was steady, but Clint couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement.

"At least on the USO tour, yes," Steve replied innocently.

"There were more?" Bruce squinted at Steve, pushing his glasses up a few millimeters on his nose.

Steve sent Bruce a knowing smirk, slightly tilting his head at the doctor before standing. He casually folded his newspaper, stuck it under his arm, and grabbed his bottle of water off the table before exiting the room at a leisurely pace.

The rest of the Avengers sat in silence, processing the information before Tony exploded.

"No way," Tony blurted, not quite sure what to say.

Natasha simply shook her head, returning to her phone, thumbing the screen back to life to return to her game. Clint turned back to Thor, who was, evidently, completely stunned, standing ramrod straight, eyes wide and fixated on the living room's exit where Steve had just left.

"He's fucking with us," Tony decided loudly. "He's got to be."


Tony Stark's omelets were a national treasure. Well, okay, maybe not Captain America-level national treasure, but still great; they were the one food item he could complete without setting off every smoke detector in the tower. That, coupled with Natasha's blueberry pancakes and Clint's hickory-smoked bacon, made the steaming platter in front of the group almost irresistible, particularly to the tower's resident demi-god.

Weeks had passed by, and the interaction had been passed off by the rest of the team as a way to get Tony riled up in order to stop prodding at Steve's personal life. He had taken the hint and, for the most part, had done his best to back off. So, when Steve's birthday arrived, Tony decided out of the goodness of his heart that he and the Avengers would make his first birthday since his defrosting a special one.

This was the reason that the five of them were currently standing outside of Steve's door at 6:27 in the morning. As ungodly as the hour may have been, hush, Clint, they had managed to drag themselves out of bed and make their way to the Captain's room precisely 3 minutes before he left for his daily run through the city.

"On the count of three," Bruce whispered, holding up three fingers and counting down. When the last finger fell, Natasha yanked on the knob, and the door swiftly swung open, Tony having Jarvis disable the locks in advance to permit their entry.

"Surprise!" they yelled to the incredibly large form in the bed, which immediately shot up in a panic, revealing a woman with long, dark hair and plump red lips that matched the shade of her cheeks.

"Hey, you can't be in here!" Clint yelled instinctively before he noticed the figure beneath her, her dark brown hair no longer obscuring the view of a horrified Steve Rogers beneath her.

He did his best to sink into the mattress, turning his face away from the group and slumping down. He could not, however, hide his heavy breathing or the fact that he was nearly drenched in his own sweat. Oh, and the fact that he wasn't wearing anything except for Tiffany - no, Trisha. Or was it Tanya? It didn't quite matter to him at this point. He just needed a release, both figuratively and literally. This was the first time in nearly a year that he had been with another woman, and frankly, he thought he deserved it. It was a way to move on, move forward, and Tanya, no, Tammi? Anyway, she was more than willing to oblige. In fact, she was the one who had suggested it. One night of consensual fun was all it was, and Steve was, for once, fine with that. He needed someone's feminine touch - anyone's. The fact that Tiffany - he was sure it was Tiffany now, right? - reminded him so much of Peggy with her luscious chestnut hair was irrelevant. He knew she wasn't Peggy, but she was something. And damn, she sure was something.

"There's a woman in Steve's bed. Straddling Steve. Naked," Tony stammered slowly, carefully choosing each word.

"I think you broke him," Natasha spoke, the smallest of smirks curling her lips upward. If Steve had the courage to look harder, he would have seen a hint of jealousy in her expression, but he was too busy trying to make himself invisible to even face her at all.

"Get out!" Steve screamed, now practically a tomato. The group was, for the most part, happy to oblige, leaving Steve and the woman behind to finish their private activities.

While the others turned away, Thor advanced forward, simply laying the platter of now-lukewarm food down on the bedside table, grinning widely before telling Steve and his "fair maiden" that there was plenty of food for the two of them. Oh, god, I want to die, Steve almost whispered.

Bruce led a stunned Tony out of the room, mouth moving but no words coming out. Natasha was somehow already gone, but it was Clint's knowing wink that made the Captain bring his forearm to his face in shame.


It was almost two hours before Steve found himself in the living room again, the five of his teammates plus Pepper sitting in an uncomfortable silence, as if they were waiting for him.

"Steve, this is an intervention," Pepper's voice was gentle yet stern, and it almost made Steve head right back out the door he came in. He heard the faint dinging of the elevator, telling him that Tiffany - he was sure; he'd asked - had made her escape. He was glad that she was gone, no longer there to mortify him in front of his team, but she took his only means of escape - the elevator. Deciding to face the Avengers, he quietly turned back to them, resting his eyes on Pepper.

"I didn't even know her!" Steve blurted out, then quickly covered his mouth in shock of his revelation.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, and Clint didn't even try to suppress his grin this time.