Chapter Four
Much to Tony's great dismay it took less than an hour for Fury to both inform the others and for them to have their gear arranged on the flight deck waiting for a quinjet to become available. He supposed that's what you got when you had a combined group of one man desperate to get home, two agents ready at the drop of a hat, a military guy that he strongly suspected lived out of his military issue sausage bag and one giant green rage monster that tended to eschew belongings. He had kind of been hoping that he would get at least a day to himself to Avenger proof the place.
The journey back to the tower was no more pleasant than the one a few days earlier. Sure he didn't have the hangover from hell but he was squished between Cap and Hawkeye. It was a little up close and personal for his liking. He wished everyone would give him as much room as they did Bruce, seriously the guy did not appreciate some of the benefits being the Hulk gave him. At least he was looking forward to getting home. He just didn't like the idea of the others being with him, or touching his stuff, or, or, hmm well to be honest he didn't like the idea of working on the suit, and that's what was waiting for him. He slouched glumly in his seat. Actually he was annoyed at being blindsided by Fury, no wait, it was Banner he was annoyed at, or was it Steve for telling Banner? He wasn't totally sure who he was annoyed at, he was just annoyed. He hated sleepovers; he'd never had them as a child and didn't see why he should start now. What was even the point of owning a tower if you couldn't say who could use it. It was like his super-secret club house was being invaded by cootie carrying girls and he did not like it! Whose stupid idea had it been to change it into an Avengers tower? Oh wait that was Pepper's. She didn't usually have dumb ideas. He wrapped his arms around himself and dug his chin into his chest. Well if not dumb he was at least going to class this as a less-than-stellar idea. He tried being mad at Pepper as the quinjet rumbled underneath him but mad just kept turning into sad. Tony sighed.
The air buffeted Tony's back as the quinjet left the tower's helipad. He carried his bag through the glass door into the living room. Come to think of it that's another thing he didn't like about S.H.I.E.L.D. they made him carry things. He scowled at the scene playing out in front of him in the middle of his living room. Cap was stood, bag in hand, looking around like he unsure where to put himself, Natasha was…nowhere to be seen well that's worrying Tony thought, Clint was sprawled over Tony's sofa aiming a tablet at the TV and randomly hitting the screen with his thumb like it was a remote, idiot must have watched too many sci fi movies, as if I need a tablet to switch on a tv! Bruce was shuffling awkwardly around the living room running his hands over the back of one another massaging his palms with his thumbs looking guilty at the now refurbished floor. Well that at least made Tony smile. He dropped his bag and strode into the living room startling Bruce slightly as he clapped him on the back.
"I was going to get it enshrined in acrylic but it's just not as cool as carbonite."
"Sorry about that."
"Why? You can't affect the coolness of things can you? Cos if you can you've been holding out on me big guy."
"No, the floor Tony."
"Are you kidding? The Hulk literally wiping the floor with Loki has to be my favourite all time security video footage. Seriously I watch it at least once a month." Tony shot a grin at Bruce and then turned to Clint swiping his feet off the couch and grabbing the abused tablet. "Um shoes, and er mine" Clint glowered at Tony.
"Well how the hell are you supposed to turn this thing on anyway? I've missed TV."
"J.A.R.V.I.S please put the TV on an appropriate age restricted channel." The giant TV screen on the wall flicked to life tuning in to the Disney channel.
"Ah come on Stark!" Clint complained "Disney Princesses? Seriously!"
"Hey you missed TV." He gestured his arm towards the screen "TV!"
"Ass." Clint grumbled.
"J.A.R.V.I.S. please give everyone in this room security level 2 access, except Mr Barton who gets level 1 and Dr Banner who gets level 3."
"Level one, what does that get me?"
"Permission to exist, breathe, walk and leave the tower. Oh and bathroom access, but not for any electronics or any areas other than the general areas." Clint wrinkled his nose in a scowl.
"How come he gets level three?" he complained waving an arm towards Bruce.
"Because I said so, plus he needs to do science stuff and you need level three to access the labs and workshops."
"But what if I need to come and speak with you and you're in a lab somewhere?"
"Why do you think you have level one?" Tony quipped as he strode off. His "Follow me" was almost lost to the others and they had move quickly to catch the billionaire as he gave them a lightening tour of the new tower set up.
Later that evening after everyone had installed themselves in their allocated rooms and Clint and Steve had thoroughly examined both the gym and the range the group found themselves converging in the common area, all be it Tony was only there at the insistence of Bruce, well that and a desire to check that his tower hadn't already been destroyed. He leaned casually against the living area wall arms crossed, observing the scene before him. Bruce had settled himself in a chair scribbling away into a battered book that could have passed for either a notebook or a journal Tony wasn't really sure. Natasha was nowhere to be seen again, which always put Tony a little on edge. Steve and Clint were settled into the cushy sofa, Steve with a serene peaceful look on his face, Clint scowling and clearly in a huff over something.
"Seriously Steve, really?" Clint turned his head to glare eyebrow raised at the super soldier, arms crossed, back rigid.
"Look I wanted to watch it when it came out but stuff kinda got in the way." Steve shrugged giving Clint a small smile.
"Really? Come on there has to be something other than Casablanca on!"
"You can't knock a bit of Humphrey Bogart, Clint. It's a classic." Bruce piped up eyes never leaving his page.
"It's ancient! Plus it's not even the colour version." Clint flopped his head back into the sofa's cushions resigned to his fate.
"Hey careful what you dub ancient." Steve stressed the word ancient in exactly the same way that Clint had, mouth turned up in an amused smile. Clint rolled his eyes.
"Hey Tash, find anything to eat yet?" he yelled in the general direction of the kitchen. Natasha's head popped around the corner of the wall that separated the living area from the kitchen area.
"Actually, no I haven't" She fixed Tony with an inquisitive glare that would have many lesser men quaking in their boots. "Stark where do you hide your actual food? I can find snacks but nothing that doesn't comprise mainly of saturated fats or salt."
"Oh, I dib the sat fats." Clint shouted with a smirk. Natasha raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in a very disapproving way before turning her attention back to Tony. Tony's face sported the same kind of sympathetic look that someone would wear if they were dealing with a very young child asking the world's most obvious questions and without uncrossing one arm raised the other so that his elbow was still cupped by his other hand but his index finger pointed straight to the ceiling. Natasha's lips parted slightly her eyebrows pinched with the unspoken question. Tony sighed with silent exasperation.
"J.A.R.V.I.S. could you please give Miss Romanov a complete listing of all the local food establishments, excluding the ones we placed on the never again list."
"I would be my pleasure sir." Came the smooth British response. Natasha wandered back into the kitchen area as J.A.R.V.I.S. started listing all the various eateries in the local area along with any applicable comments, stopping and projecting menus any that grabbed Natasha's attention.
Around an hour later Tony was stood facing the room height windows, his breath leaving the faintest fog on the glass as he watched the fading sunlight filter across the New York skyline. J.A.R.V.I.S.' voice broke into his meandering thoughts informing the team that their food had arrived. Clint leapt from the couch.
"I'll grab it." He tossed back at the group as he bounded off toward the elevators. He returned with three huge bags, hot and steamy and smelling of all kinds of delicious delights hidden within. Bruce was carrying plates and cutlery that he'd found in the kitchen and placed them on the sizable coffee table where Clint was in the process of tearing into the bags. You'd think SHIELD had been starving him Tony thought as he walked across to the main group. Everyone was helping themselves to the various often unidentifiable dishes. Clint held up what looked like a half moon shaped dumpling pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
"Hey Tash, what's this?" he asked
"That's a pelmeni, you know, like the periogi you had had in Poland that time."
"The ones with the cheese and Bacon? Oh these are good!" he said to Bruce wiggling the tray at him as he picked up another container peeling back the lid once Bruce had relieved him of the foil tray containing the pelmeni. He peered inside and pulled a face.
"Natasha what in the love of all things holy is this?" Natasha raised herself on her knees to take a look what was in the round Styrofoam tub that had Clint treating it as if it might conceivably bite him.
"Oh hand that over that's mine." She said hold out her hand to retrieve it.
"Yeah but what is it?" Clint said as he handed over the tub. "As far as I'm aware I can't think of anything that has the descriptor of purple goop that should be eaten!"
"That purple goop happens to be borscht, and it's red not purple." Natasha took the tub and fished a spoon from the pile of flatware.
"No Tasha that's purple and what's borscht when it's at home?" Clint made the word sound almost like a barely contained sneeze as he said it.
"Oh I know this" Piped Steve. "It's a soup made of beetroot and tomato?" He asked raising a quizzical eyebrow at Natasha for confirmation.
"That's right Cap, want to try some?" She offered the container which Steve took gratefully. Clint still held onto his slightly disgusted look.
"Tasha there are some days when I truly worry about you, and today is one of them." He levelled at Natasha across the table from him. Natasha gave him a small smile that let him know that she knew he was teasing her. Tony picked up a plate and starting selecting food.
"I have to say Agent Romanov I was expecting the usual Chinese or Pizza, you have surprised me." He said lightly.
"Well when you live in the delivery area of so many Russian take outs, why not?" She shrugged. Clint had another container in his hand eyeing it with unveiled suspicion.
"I think I'll order tomorrow." He said. Tony smirked at that as he took the unclaimed chair watching the others alternate between claiming food and settling back to watch the rest of Casablanca, Bruce in his chair, Natasha cross legged on the floor by at the end of the coffee table, Steve relaxed into the couch, Clint perched on the arm of the couch feet on the cushions facing towards the TV. As domesticated as it seemed Tony couldn't help a small feeling of unease. After all when had domesticated ever gone right for Antony Edward Stark?
A/N Sorry this chapter took so long. I know where I'm going I just had a bit of trouble getting them all to get along. Thank you for all the kind reviews, if there's anything in particular that you like/dislike please let me know :).