Umm… I have no explanation. None for the immense time gap, or for this idea. It's a method for my madness.

~BoukieToo

Steve was having a perfect day, that is until he was attacked by a manic robot.

He glanced down at his ruined shirt to discover something else. The thing had sloshed his hot chocolate over the sketch he had been working on, too. He didn't even know how the little bot had managed to reach the roof in the first place, but he assumed it was just Tony being careless again. Sighing at the incoming footsteps, the captain retreated to the kitchen to wash off, shaking off a sparking Dummy.

The two resident scientists stumbled and grumbled their way into the room, grabbing coffee as they went. Tony trod over to the robot, deftly rewiring in a manner which shouldn't have been possible in his sleep-deprived state.

"Sorry for the scare, Cap," he grunted, finding a place between Bruce and Steve. "Updates didn't go as planned. They never do, with Dummy."

"It's fine." Steve waved him off, finishing of the remainder of untouched hot chocolate. "It just spilled on my sketch, that's all."

"I didn't know you liked to draw," Bruce piped up. "May we see it?"

"Ah, it's not much, just a rough draft," the artist mumbled, scratching his neck embarrassedly with one hand, and closing the sketchbook with the other.

"Come on, pleeeaaaassse?" Tony wheeled, widening his eyes and craning his neck to catch a glimpse of the cover. "Fine," Steve sighed, flipping to the correct page, and thinking that it was too early in the morning to argue with anybody just yet.

The picture depicted their living room, or at least the center of it. Thor was seated directly in the middle of the couch (and the picture), his muscly bulk taking up at least another space, holding the wrong end of a TV remote with a dumbfounded look on his face. Loki—devoid of armor—sat to the left of him, exasperatedly pointing to the other hand or as best he could, for both hands were shackled, and a muzzle adorned his features. Clint was hanging bat-style from a vent just above Loki's head, aiming an arrow at his skull. A gun was pressed to his own however, and just behind Thor stood Natasha, using her free hand to point another gun at Tony's head. The inventor, unfazed by the metal pressure, was animatedly talking science with Bruce, and winking at Pepper, who stood in the doorway over Bruce's shoulder. The other genius was radiating with an almost nervous excitement, and holding a bag of blueberries in his left hand. On the right-hand end of the couch lounged Steve himself, usual sketchbook in hand, right below and between the two scientists. Together, the seven figures looked like one dysfunctional family.

(If anybody can draw this, please do and show me. I made this up entirely, but I cannot draw worth a half-rusted penny.)

The picture was eerily accurate—as any picture would have to be in order to fascinate the viewer in such a fashion—and both inventors gaped in awe of the "rough draft".

"Its magnificent," Bruce breathed, reaching for but not touching the masterpiece.

"What inspired you to put Reindeer Games in?" Tony asked, still staring, and stock-still.

"Well, he was kind of the one who brought us all together," Cap began, and when he was met with confused-but-intrigued looks, he elaborated, "Well, we wouldn't have met each other in that way, or have become a team, or have come to live in the tower if it weren't for him. And anyways, I can't ever think about Thor without thinking about Loki, and vice versa. Whether they acknowledge it or not, I like to think they were a good team, blood brothers or no."

The others seemed satisfied, that is until Dummy snatched up the paper, and pinned it to the community fridge, next to the magnet reading "Fridge Guardians Unite!"

"Despite his faults, this is why I still keep that batch of bolts around," Tony sighed fondly, stroking the robot absentmindedly. "He does the right thing sometimes, even without knowing it. Especially without us knowing it."

Steve had been having a perfect day. But now, with two of his closest friends, it was not perfect, but something much better.