Around the World!

B is for Baccano!

[baccano (italian) - "ruckus" or "racket"]

Romano never knew that it was possible to be both scared shitless and annoyed at the same time. Of course, he would never admit that he felt the former; but feeling both emotions at once was making him irritable. So that was three malignant emotions bottled up into one moody Italian.

"Hurry the fuck up, Veneziano!" he growled, shoving another t-shirt into his suitcase. It was quite the struggle, seeing that his suitcase was already stuffed full with other assortments of clothing. "I'm gonna leave without your stupid ass."

There was a crash from the floor above him which was shortly followed by a loud cry: "Don't leave me, fratello! Please! I don'twannadie!"

"Stop crying, you idiota, and hurry up then!" he cried back, shoving a pair of socks into his suitcase. "We're going to miss our damn ride!" Something stuffed in the very corner of his suitcase caught his eye and made him do a double-take. "... Veneziano, why the fuck are your pasta boxers in my fucking suitcase?!"

There was another crash from upstairs followed by a loud thump near the stairwell. Romano leaned back and glared towards the swirling, spiral staircase.

"Veneziano?!"

He set down the pasta boxers that he had ripped out of his suitcase and made his way towards the stairs. He peered up the stairwell just in time to see an avalanche of clothes and one crying Italian hurtling towards him.

Bam!

The two Italies collapsed in an entangled heap on the floor (Veneziano on top of Romano), buried beneath a plethora of clothing and one now empty red suitcase. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. And then:

"God damnit, Veneziano!"

"S-Sorry, fratello!" came the exasperated whimper. "I thought you were going to leave me, because you were mad about me putting my boxers in your suitcase! I didn't have any room left in mine and I couldn't decide between my pasta boxers or my tomato boxers, so I decided 'why not bring both?'" His exasperation ended on a strangely happy note.

"Alright, damnit!" Romano muttered, shoving his brother off of his chest. He struggled for a moment, breaking free of the clothing that had become intertwined with his legs. "Like hell if I could leave without you, even if I wanted to anyways…"

Veneziano poked his head out from the piles of clothing and gazed at Romano with sparkling eyes:

"F-Fratello…"

"Don't look at me like that, damnit." Romano growled. "Now get your shit together, so we can hurry up and leave!"

"Aye, aye, fratello!" Veneziano chirped, smacking his hand against his forehead in a salute-like gesture.

"Whatever." Romano muttered, coming to a stand and crossing his arms.

As Veneziano began rapidly and sloppily shove the scatter clothes back into his suitcase, Romano walked over to his own suitcase. He stood there for a moment, staring contemplatively at the pasta boxers that now laid splayed out across his suitcase. He turned his head and glanced with equal contemplativeness at the hand-sized, L-shaped object that rested in the other corner of his suitcase. America was the one who was always strangely captivated by suchobkecte, not Romano. But America was most likely not even 'here' anymore. Perhaps Romano was just trying to live out the American's memory.

Either way, it couldn't hurt to have a gun at his side.

.

Elsewhere, a certain cheery Spaniard clasped his own tomato-themed suitcase shut. His case sat on a white, umbrella-less patio table. The table seemed to glow with heat from the sun's rays that beat down relentlessly.

The Spaniard sighed with contentedness:

"Romano and Veneziano's place sure is beautiful!"

.

Tony watched as Steve's expression changed from confused to serious. He, on the other hand, was quite amused by the whole situation. Amused and intrigued.

The helicarrier that floated alongside them most definitely belonged to SHIELD... So what did this so-called 'English Representative' have to do with them?

"You said that you need our help…" Steve finally managed; he straightened himself. "And I'm assuming you're telling me this on SHIELD's behalf?" He eyed the helicarrier.

"Not quite." came the accented clip. "It's quite the opposite actually. SHIELD — and in turn you, the 'Avengers', will be interceding on my behalf." There was a slight mockingness to the British man's tone, like he thought he was better than them, like they were beneath him. Tony didn't like the tone and neither did Steve apparently.

"And what is it that we're going to be 'interceding' for you?" Steve replied, albeit a bit mockingly as well but with true concern intermingled with it all.

"'Interceding'. Hmm…" the man frowned with pursed lips. "Perhaps I didn't quite select the right words. You, Captain Rodgers, and your team are being assigned as bodyguards for me and my fellow representatives."

"Great!" Tony exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Babysitting! That's exactly what I had in mind when I decided to build a cybernetic body suit!"

"Why do you need us as your bodyguards?" Steve questioned suspiciously. "I'm sure that you could hire people who are more well-trained for the job."

"I don't have a say it in really." the British man admitted. "A friend of mine requested as a 'final will' per say that me and my fellow representatives would fall under your team's protection, if certain circumstances were to come into being. He was quite the persistent fellow, so I can't really object now, can I?" A strange and dark look passed over his face at that moment. It was a look that was hidden beneath a mask that only Steve seemed able to see past.

"Now, what circumstances are we talking about here?" Tony chirped from his seat. "'Cause if we're talking about politics, I really don't want to get involved."

"The friend I mentioned… his name is Alfred Jones — you met him on the plane; do you recall?" The man questioned sharply, averting his eyes from both Tony's and Steve's questioning gazes.

Tony thought for a moment, recalling his plane trip to the SHIELD station. Quite an amusing trip that was. He shifted through the faces he saw during that time, trying to stick the name 'Alfred Jones' to one of them.

"The tall, fanboying, hyperactive one?" Tony pressed with raised eyebrows. "Yeah. Are you telling me that kid is the representative of some country too?"

"He was the representative of your very own country, the United States of America."

"Damn." Tony swore. "They're just throwing out government positions to kids nowadays, aren't they?"

"You said 'was'." Steve murmured, ignoring Tony's comment. "Did he…?"

"He was assassinated only a couple of hours ago." the English representative replied curtly. He blinked several times before clearing his throat. "Or so we believe. Communications with America have been stagnant since then."

There was a moment of silence.

"I'm… sorry for your loss."

"The country of America?" came a drawl from behind Steve. "You have lost communications with it? Do you know what is going on over there?"

The three conversing men turned their heads towards the doorway leading to the passenger's compartment. In it stood Thor and Bruce, the former supporting the latter with his shoulder.

"My people and other countries have sent agents to America, but we have lost communication with them as well."

"What?" Tony scoffed, a glint of suspicion flashing in his eyes. "So one politician disappears and an entire country goes down under?"

"Tony," Steve chastised, "this is serious."

"Wait, if we've lost communication with America, shouldn't we be focusing on that instead of acting as bodyguards for politicians?" Bruce interjected, before he sheepishly glanced at the British Man. "N-No offense…I wouldn't be much of a bodyguard anyways."

"Jane is down there…" Thor muttered under his breath. "I must go to her immediately."

At that very moment, the Brit's political mask shattered.

"We can't do anything about America now, alright?!" the Brit shouted, finally losing his composure and flinging his arms this way and that. "We can't afford to send anymore people down there, we can't afford to lose you if you decide to go down there, we can't afford to waste anymore time!" Every single word that he had said was shouted in a single breath, and now he was left in a panting mess. The Avengers — minus two — stared at him both apprehensively and uncertainly.

"Yeesh, dude…" Tony muttered after a long drawn out moment of silence. "Chill. "

Said 'dude' visibly flinched as he heard those words.

"Look," the Brit finally sighed, pushing a strand of hair back into place, "there is an unspoken rule between countries that, even in times of war, no assassination attempt can be made on representatives. The representatives handle other representatives themselves in such times. The consequences of breaking such a rule… Well, I can't explain it to you. That's another rule."

"So," Tony drew basically, stretching out his arms and propping his legs on the flight console, "we're basically diving headfirst into this thing without even knowing what we're doing. Cool."

"Alright. So we're acting as bodyguards by the request of Alfred… And I'm getting the impression that you also have reason to believe that you and the other representatives are also being targeted." Steve drew slowly and thoughtfully. "Am I getting this right?"

"Spot on."

"S-So where are these other representatives at?" Bruce interjected with his usual nervousness. "Are they coming here or…?"

"Well," the British man cleared his throat. "The thing is… at first, all of the representatives were to all report via their own manner of transportation to the helicarrier," he inclined his head towards the vehicle with crossed arms, "at a certain time and location."

"'At first'." Tony echoed, turning to face the man with raised eyebrows.

The Brit visibly flinched.

"You see — the thing is…" he sighed, straightening his tie. "It was recently decided that doing things in such a fashion would be chaotic. Therefore, we — and by we I mean you, the Avengers — will be picking up these representatives from their respective countries via the helicarrier."

"I don't think that that would be the best idea…" Bruce murmured pointedly. "It sounds a bit inconvenient…"

"I'd like to speak with Director Fury about this as well…" Thor muttered, his mind obviously still lingering on the wellbeing of one Jane Foster.

"Come on guys," Tony clapped his hands, "who wouldn't want to go on a trip around the world?" He nodded towards the Brit, "So where's our first stop, Sherlock?"

"My name is Arthur Kirkland, Mr. Stark." Arthur frowned. "And our first destination is rostered to be the country of Italy which we will be heading towards shortly. No need to worry about your belongings and baggage. We have everything in stock on the helicarrier. Now if you would please maneuver this plane to dock on the said helicarrier, I would be absolutely overjoyed." And the belittlement was back.

.

The helicarrier was now loaded on with all of its passengers that had the current occupation of bodyguard. They were dispersed all throughout the hull which was bustling with SHIELD agents.

Tony had fully explored the vehicle — checked all the engine rooms and tech rooms and all that sort with Bruce. He had tried getting in contact with Fury and Agent Hill but neither responded to his calls. It was all very suspicious.

So with nothing else to do, he reclined to an empty meeting room, his mind having fallen on the wellbeing of a certain ginger beauty. Propping himself up on the meeting room table, he dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He dialed a phone rang once, then twice.

"Hello? Pepper Potts speaking."

"How's my favorite soulless ginger doing?"

"Tony? God! I was so worried about you. I called you a bunch of times! Are you in the States right now?"

"Nope. Got stopped mid flight by an angry Jack Sparrow. But hey, I might be dropping by Paris sometime soon."

"Jack Sparrow—what? More importantly: you're coming here? Don't tell me that you've something stupid and that you're becoming a fugitive again…"

"Okay. That was once."

"Uh-huh… Well, I've got to go. I met some Frenchman that is overly eager to show me the beauties of Paris…"

" So you're choosing some sleezy French guy over me? Ouch."

"Hey… You know what they say about the French!"

"..."

"I miss you…"

"Of course you do!"

"I think I misheard you — what did you say?"

"Can't win with you, can I? I miss you too, Potts."

The call ended.

"So," came a voice from behind Tony, "you do have a heart afterall. What a surprise."

The billionaire philanthropist turned his dark head and saw Steve leaning in the doorway from the corner of his eye.

"Well, the Tin Man did, so why can't I?" he scoffed, before he clicked his phone shut. "Pepper is in Paris on a business venture, so I decided to check up on her."

"You know as well as I do that she of all people can handle herself." Steve said pointedly; he drifted towards the table where Tony was sitting and pulled out a chair to sit on. "So about this entire bodyguard mission…"

"Good!" Tony clapped his hands. "So I'm not the only one who has a feeling that Sherlock isn't telling us the entire truth." His smile dropped and he leaned forward, so that he could gaze directly into Steve's eyes. "On the other hand, I have a feeling that you're not telling us the entire truth either."

Steve gave him a pointed look.

"I mean," Tony continued, drawing back into his seat, "you seemed to recognize those so-called representatives when we were on that plane; and I personally never took you for the type to be interested in politics, though I could be wrong."

There was silence. The helicarrier creaked against the changing winds all around them. Steve leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. He gave a quick laugh:

"I don't even understand what I know as fact in the first place…"

"Huh, that doesn't sound so good."

"Putting that aside." Steve sighed, rubbing his eyes. "We should probably keep an eye on Thor… I have a feeling that he might take off after Jane Foster."

"Oh," Tony smiled lightly, "you don't need to be worrying about that. He's lucky enough to be keeping Sherlock company at the moment."

There was a sudden ringing in the air, followed by an automated female voice. This voice repeated two times very calmly:

"We have arrived at our destination. Designated members please report to the outer platform."

Tony flashed a cocky smile at Steve — it was a smile that only Tony could pull off.

.

The sun peaked in-between the stone villas and beat its fearsome rays down on the five men that walked along the narrow stone walkway. A canal flowed blissfully to their left, while creamy villas rose to their right. A small gondola drifted past them in that waterway, slowly, slowly, slowly.

"The burning heat here is almost comparable to that of Hel." Thor murmured, tugging uncomfortable at his civilian clothing (a red blouse and khaki shorts).

"Hell, huh?" Tony muttered, amazed at how powerful the sun's rays were despite the fact that he was wearing sunglasses. He himself was wearing a colorful Hawaiian shirt and swimming trunks and was still sweating unbearably. "You been there before? Not surprised."

"Yes," Thor replied with a raised eyebrow. "Yes I have."

"Not sure how to respond to that actually." Tony admitted.

He turned his head towards Bruce who kept shrinking away from passersby. The scientist's actions received him strange but amicable looks. The stares, however, seemed to cause him to shrink back even more.

"How are you holding up, Bruce?" Steve questioned from the side.

"I'm fine." Smiled Bruce forcefully. "Crowded places just make me nervous..."

"Hold up for a couple more seconds, old chap." The Brit said encouraged from the center of their pack. "We're almost there." He directed them to round a corner and continued to speak: "I don't quite understand you're uneasiness.I really do find Veneziano and Romano's place quite beautiful. It's even relaxing actually."

The rounded corner led to an open plaza-esque park. It was somewhat closed off by low-rising villas; but the clear, blue sky opened up just above it, making it seem rather spacious. A large and ornate pearly-white water fountain rose up from the center of the plaza. It's sprouting water layers sparkled in the sunlight. Surrounding this fountain was a conglomeration of white patio tables. Some of them had stripped umbrellas hanging over them, while others were bare-topped.

Arthur glanced at his wristwatch and crossed his arms. He scanned the area with a frown.

"They said that they'd be here at ten o'clock sharp. It's ten one, right now. I'm not all too surprised though. It's in their nature to be late on such occasions."

Tony was only half-listening to the British man's lengthy complaint. It was way too humid and hot to listen to that kind of drivel. What he would do to take a swim in some nice, cold waters... He eyed the water fountain longingly. Oh how he wished he could be in the shoes of that brunette adolescent who was splashing away shirtless in the pit of the fountain...

Wait. What.

"Oh, there Veneziano is." Arthur blinked as he unfolded his arms. "How... Very like him to be doing such a thing."

The Brit walked forward and waved his hand stiffly in the air.

"Veneziano," he called, "over here."

"You can't be serious." Tony scoffed.

"I believe he is speaking truthfully, my friend." replied Thor gravely.

Without much else to say, the four Avengers followed the Brit to the fountain. The Italian representative hopped out from the pool of water and waved his hands wildly in the air at Arthur. His expression was happy and at ease. That all changed when he registered the four men who men who escorting the British man from behind. When he saw them, he let out a high pitched scream.

"Oh," Tony commented as he recalled seeing the sobbing Italian on the plane ride, "it's that guy."

And that was when Tony heard a gun click at the back of his head. He raised his hands up in the air and peaked behind him. An angry looking Italian with reddish-brown hair was scowling at him. Tony had a sudden feeling of deja vu.

"Uh… guys."

"Get your hands off of my fratello, damnit!"

A/N: Well, here comes the second chapter several months later… Sorry about that! /bows deeply.

Thanks to all who followed, favorited, and reviewed!