Chapter 2

The next morning, I opened my eyes at the sound of loud car horns outside and gazed at the clock like it was some kind of relic. No, I was the relic, I realized sadly. A hidden artifact of time. I slid off of my back and into a sitting position and let out a puff of air. A second later I yawned, of course, and rubbed my eyes to rid them of sleepiness. With a glint to the window I comprehended that I had overslept. Crud. I usually didn't sleep very long, especially with all of the nightmares. The latest I'd normally rest for was until about seven o'clock. His time it was about eight, daylight completely visible from just above the other skyscrapers.

I groggily trudged over to the elevator and about fell down on the way there. It's kind of hard to see when your eyes are half-lidded and your vision is blurred. Finally, I was able to maneuver through the exit and into the birdcage. The lurch down almost gave me a heart-attack as the lift shifted into motion of decent.

When I was on the Avengers' Assembly floor I was greeted by Agent Romanoff, Thor, and Dr. Banner (more or less). Bruce seemed not to be feeling too well, his head drooping in an utter attempt from his body to get some rest. Apparently, the need of sleep won the fight, because soon Dr. Banner's head fell with a ka-thonk! onto the surface of the table. Natasha stared for a long while, as did Thor, as if Bruce was a puzzle they couldn't quite grasp.

"If he was that tired, why did he come in here?" Natasha questioned, gesturing to the collapsed heap at the table.

"I suppose he was hungry." I suggested with a shrug.

Thor nodded in agreement, "Aye, hunger is more important than sleep."

Miss Romanoff gave us both an incredulous look.

"Well, I wouldn't put it exactly like that." I said quickly, sifting through the cabinet. "Say, when's the 'cruise' thing going on anyway, Natasha?"

The red-headed assassin gazed at the top of the cabinet thoughtfully, pulling her cup of coffee closer while gripping it in both hand as if to protect it. Then, she blinked and her eyes shifted back to me.

"Today. We have to at the docks by two, according to Fury." she answered, sipping a little bit of invigorating coffee.

There it was again. We have to. Fury was forcing us. The conversation with Loki from last night came to mind. Was that sorcerer right? Did the director have something planned and wanted to get us out of the way? I shook my head. Never mind that. My next issue was going to the docks. That meant that we were going near boats! Maybe we were boarding one… If so, that meant that for at least three days, we were going to be completely surrounded by…ugh…water. I hadn't liked swimming or water ever since I'd been frozen solid into a, as Tony says, "Capsicle". The thought made me shiver.

"Well, it's a good thing I already packed, then." I stated.

"You package things for such an occasion?" Thor asked loudly, his voice ringing in my ears. We nodded painfully. "Why? In Asgard, when we journey away from our humble homes, we travel deep into the forest as a survival test. It's mostly for warriors who want to prove themselves. However when we do so, we survive with nothing but our keen wits and without-"

"That's fantastic, Thor. Thank you." Natasha interrupted him, either not wanting to hear the rest in fear of he'd say something not to be told in a lady's presence, or just not really caring.

I opened up a cabinet. Bowls. Well, I did need one. I took a plastic one from the stack and carried to my next stop. When I got to the cabinet that was supposed to be filled with cereal, I found that it was empty. No Fruity Pebbles, no Lucky Charms, nothing but…Poptarts? Yeah, I said it was empty, I know. But it was empty for cereal. I didn't mention the overflowing cabinet of toaster pastries, I just stared at the contents for a moment, glanced knowingly at the mighty thunderer who loved said pastries, and pulled the doors shut. Well, that did it for cereal. Maybe something else was in order. I had wanted to try out a new recipe.

"Hey," I addressed the room awkwardly, talking over the slurping of Natasha's coffee. "Had anybody eaten breakfast, yet?"

Agent Romanoff shook her head silently, Dr. Banner twitched, and Thor nodded.

"I have participated in the Breaking of the Fast. However, I am always hungry!" Thor informed us with a smile.

"Why?" Natasha asked me, a little suspiciously.

"I was thinking about making French toast." I answered.

"Toast from France?" Thor inquired. "But if it is from France, how is it not rotten when it gets here?"

"No, Thor, it's a style of cooking, not a title of origin." I replied.

"Oh, I see." Thor looked to the floor, lost in thought. He then bellowed heartily, "It sounds like a feast!" and lifted his fist into the air.

"I think it sounds good, too, Rogers." Natasha agreed.

"Fire up the stove, Steve!" Bruce piped up randomly and uncharacteristically from his hibernation, making each of us jump. His clenched hand was raised weakly in the air. The doctor's arm faltered and fell, along with his heavy head. (His head was probably filled with useful information, unlike Tony's. Nonetheless, Tony is my friend, so I didn't say anything.)

"…Okay then!" I gave a battle cry before launching myself to the towards the ingredient cupboard.

In the cupboard, I found all of the needed components for my concoction. All that was missing was the bread, which I discovered on the counter beside of the toaster. Also, next to the toaster was a bag of bagels. I wondered if I could prepare them like French toast, but dismissed the thought as I turned on my heel.

I found a pair of eggs in the fridge and broke them into the bowl, closely examining the yolks for tiny fragments of shell that may have fallen in. Adding a few other ingredients, I stirred it all up and tossed a piece of bread in. I then dashed to the stove and set the bowl on the counter to the right. After the bread was pretty well soaked I fished it out of the eggy goo with a fork and set it out onto the hot griddle. It sizzled and bubbled until I flipped it up into the air. It landed back onto the griddle on its opposite side, the sound effects reoccurring upon impact. The scent was mouth watering as it wafted throughout the room. Thor peeked over my shoulder or past my arm from the three-yard distance between the stove and the toaster.

"Don't worry, Thor. I'm sure your food will be prepared properly." Agent Romanoff joked.

I laughed as well, "Yeah, you're making me nervous!"

I continued to slap pieces of egg-soaked toast onto the griddle and the bread sputtered and splattered all over my apron that said, "Kiss the Captain". (It was a gift meant as a prank from anonymous. I pretend to like it to prove that I wouldn't give into their evilness.)

Once I finally had at least ten pieces of toast on the serving plate (which only took a few minutes), I walked the food to the table. Upon the clink of the table and plate's collision Bruce snapped to attention and grabbed a plate from the stack of disks in the center. As swiftly as the platter had touched the table, Thor snatched a piece of toast. He eyed it on his plate suspiciously and waited patiently for instructions on how to eat it. Natasha gingerly reached for a morsel for herself and placed it delicately on her plate. She slathered it in butter and syrup, then cut it up into bite-sized pieces.

Thor watched, learned, and copied Agent Romanoff like a child would its mother, only with clumsier movements. He buttered and syruped the piece before wolfing it down his gullet feverishly. The Asgardian lifted his head and smiled, his cheeks stuffed full and his facial hair sticky with maple sugary topping.

He swallowed, remembering his manners under Natasha's stare, and cried out, "ANOTHER!" at the top of his lungs.

We all grinned back.

A minute later, Tony and Clint stumbled out of the elevator, half asleep. I assumed they had been awakened by Thor's delighted scream.

"What the heck is with all the racket?" Tony grumbled at us sleepily.

Well, I was right. Okay, so he didn't say those exact words. I just don't want to repeat them.

You can't be as tired as Dr. Banner, I thought, bugged by the grouchy tone, he actually needs this vacation. A little R and R would do him a lot of good.

"Friend Steve has made the most joyous of treats! It is the toast of the French!" Thor answered happily, stuffing more of the breakfast food into his maw.

"Toast of the French…?" Tony pondered aloud, tapping his chin and looking to the ceiling.

There was a snoring noise coming from Clint, who hung his head and was doubled over while still managing to stay on his feet.

"French toast," Natasha corrected from her chair.

"French toast?" he repeated, his face changing from tired and grouchy to flabbergasted glee in a matter of seconds. Tony immediately recaptured his cool and relaxed. He acted "macho" as he strolled around the table to grab a plate and parked himself beside of his "science brother" Bruce. Tony grabbed a piece and muttered, "This'll keep everybody outta my Poptarts."

So those must've been Tony's toaster pastries I found crammed in the cabinet… Now I felt sorry about how I mentally accused Thor. Then again, part of the Poptarts could have been Thor's and the two were stashing them together. Tony put his toppings on the food, took a bite, and gave a "hm" of approval. I smiled as he warfed the rest down, unlike his usually dainty self.

Following the rule of "the cook eats last" I waited until Clint had finally joined us at the table before fixing a plate for myself.

"So, what are you guys gonna do first on the cruise?" Tony asked.

"Well, with your credit card, I'm gonna find the hang gliders and fly!" Clint pushed his arms out and pretended to be a bird, soaring in the wind currents.

"Oh, then you will be part hawk!" Tony laughed before catching the credit card part. "Hold on. My credit card?"

We ignored him and Natasha continued, "Well I for one am going to relax on my day off. Just me, a cheap lawn chair, and a novel!"

She was teeming with excitement and her voice was full of wistfulness.

"I would like to know what this 'Cruise of Vacation' is and inquire what makes it so attractive to you mortals." Thor added.

"Actually, I'm with Natasha on this one. A little R and R or maybe a bit of shuffleboard…It would do both me and the Big Green Guy a world of good." Bruce put in, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and studied the floor.

"Captain?" Tony addressed me after a short moment of silence. "What are you going to do?"

I looked around my group of friends, who all had their eyes upon me. I knew this was another of Stark's jokes to try and irritate me. After feeling the full wrath of their gazes, I spoke up.

"I'm not really sure yet," I blurted. "I hardly know what in the world we're doing!"

I watched as both Tony and Clint opened their mouths to say something when a small static-filled beep entered the room.

"Mister Stark, sir, Miss Potts requests your presence. She says that 'it is time to pack your undergarments'." JARVIS reported loudly.

While we snickered (with the exception of Thor) Tony blushed profusely and zipped onto the elevator.

"Thanks, JARVIS," the volatile Stark growled through gritted teeth as the lift doors closed.

We laughed as hard as our lungs and stomachs would allow without busting. Oh, poor Tony. However, I knew it wouldn't be long until he made us rue the day we giggled at Anthony E. Stark.

At the docks, I was a little nervous. Why? Well, for one thing, there were a lot of people scurrying around, trying to get to wherever they were supposed to be. Some looked like sailors, some were fishermen dressed in waterproof jumpsuits, and others were just vacationers like us, wearing tropical themed attire. I nervously walked behind a few of the others, Tony taking the lead with Pepper at his side. I pulled my shield up over my shoulder and up to my chin in an act of shyness. I'd never seen so many people other than when I was fighting in World War II. Tony and Pepper confidently strode along in their in-style shades. I think my defensive body language was seen by Tony, who glanced back at me and grinned.

"Chilax, Capsicle," Tony said, half reassuring, half provoking. "Don't melt in the sun."

I scowled at him all the way up to the ramp of the ship. We then got into a two-by-two line like Noah's Ark. Soon, we were on the deck of a huge ship. Yet again there were people everywhere. It was almost like a bee hive, all of the worker bees buzzing around the festively decorated boat. Out yonder was the deep blue ocean, the waves crashing into the legs of the docks and knocking themselves back into the midst of the mysterious waters. And we had to spend a whole week on this over-sized fishing boat.

"C'mon, we'd better find our rooms so that we can dump our luggage off before we set sail." Agent Romanoff told us, eager to begin her spare time.

Then, we were the scurriers, sprinting off in our big group (Loki included, he's just quiet) to hunt down the quarters in which we would be staying. What could possibly go wrong now?

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