"I would like to preface this meeting by saying it was not my fault."

Tony's comment is met with groans, eye rolling, and some snorts of laughter. A badly veiled mutter of bullshit, covered by a cough, comes from the corner across from Tony. He's pretty sure it was Clint. From his place opposite Tony, Nick Fury gives him the patented Fury glare, which for once, does not make Tony feel like a small child guilty of pilfering the cookie jar. The truth is he's done nothing wrong this time.

"While your own stupidity certainly contributed to these events," The Director began, "I will allow that you were not the only factor." Tony gives a bright grin, beaming at Bruce, who sits beside him. The grin fades at Bruce's severe, serious look. There is just a hint of green in the man's eyes, which mixes with his natural eye color in a way that Tony finds fascinating. He realizes he's staring and completely missing whatever Fury is saying, so he looks back up.

There is a projection of his home via satellite rising from the table, highlighting a car parked on the road near his house. "That's not one of mine." He mumbles, and half the table stares at him for a moment, as if asking where he's been the last five minutes. Steve looks particularly annoyed. "Ahem. Right. Continue."

"There were no plates, no identifiable markings, and we did not get a good look at the driver. We do know that the car was present at the mansion starting two days ago, and left a half hour after you all did."

"So, they rigged Tony's experiment?" Clint asks, his chin resting in his hand, elbow pressing into the table.

"I don't think so," Bruce mumbles. "Tony was down in the lab nonstop the whole time, and no one came into the house with me there, either."

"And JARVIS would've noticed and told me, anyway." Tony says. He tries to ignore the stab of pain in his chest just then, and shoves all thoughts of the computer program aside for a time when he can properly worry over him, alone.

"Maybe not," Natasha's voice takes Tony by surprise; she is in the only dark corner in the room. "He was inactive during the explosion. Someone could have disabled him remotely."

Tony doesn't want to contemplate that, doesn't want to think of what that could mean for him, for JARVIS. "No way, not JARVIS," Tony feels heat flowing into his words, his worry coloring his tone. "Nobody can hack him."

"I have agents at the site now," Fury begins, interlacing his fingers as he places his arms on the table. "If something was done to JARVIS, they'll find out. Right now, our priority is keeping another incident from occurring."

"Oh, no, no," Tony shakes a finger at him, chuckling. "I know what that means. Thanks but no thanks."

"Stark –"

"I am a busy man, and I am not going to hide away on an aircraft carrier because of some lucky, freak accident." He insists, his chest tightening. Fury's suggestion is anathema to him, like taking away the suit, or his reactor. Take away his freedom he might as well be dead. "In fact, I think I should be going since I've already missed at least two important business meetings and a lunch date, so if we could just wrap this up –" He waves his hand in a rolling motion as Fury frowns.

"Tony," Bruce's voice cut him off. It's so quiet, so desperate that Tony turns to look at him. "Tony, they came close. They came really close. If I hadn't decided to go check on you right then, you'd be under a mountain of rubble right now."

"But you did, and I'm not, so can't we just –"

"I'm not trying to confine you to the helicarrier, Stark." Fury interrupts. "But Banner is correct. You're only alive right now because of the interference of your fellow Avengers. They saved your life. And they might just come in handy if another incident like this occurs."

"What are you suggesting, all of us," He waves a hand, gesturing vaguely to the team. "start living in the same apartment complex and acting all buddy-buddy like the super hero version of Friends? If so, I claim being Chandler."

"Where would we stay, Director?" Everyone else is ignoring him, and Steve is talking. "I've got an apartment, but it's not big enough for six." Tony tries not to imagine what passes as living quarters for the Captain, because he can't imagine it has anything other than ye old cord telephone. Would it even have indoor plumbing? Suddenly he notices Fury's eye is on him again.

"I believe Stark might have a place."

Why are they looking at him? Tony frowns and gives a shrug, vaguely irritated. He likes – nay, loves being the center of attention, but when it's this crowd, they always want to blame him for something or lecture him or ask him to save the world. Two of those things are annoying and one of them is terrible for his back.

Fury pushes a button and the picture of his house turns into a picture of a different house, larger, partially built. "Recognize this, Stark?" He asks. Tony gets that feeling, the feeling he gets whenever Pepper is asking him to be responsible, or when Rhodey is about to go full soldier mode and dampen the fun. It is not a good feeling.

"Sure, yeah. It's uh, the half-built summer home I've got on Myrtle Beach, for when I'm bored of visiting California or Florida," He gives a little half-grin, trying to cover the bit of nervousness that has lodged itself in his throat. "So unless the Avengers would like to sunbathe-?"

"A vacation home." Fury smirks. "One that you started creating blueprints for a little more than a year ago, not long after I told you about the Avengers Initiative?"

"Come on, Director," Tony snorts. "I'm the one that thinks everything revolves around them, not you –"

"A home that you began construction on about four months ago, after the Initiative came together?"

That nervous lump is sinking into his stomach. "You're really pulling at straws here, one-eye –"

But then he's showing images of the inside of the completed house, flipping through room to room, showing every floor. Tony's mouth falls open a little, and Fury smirks. "So then, tell me why this 'vacation home' has more than ten floors underground, including two fully functional, state of the art laboratories –"

"Um, hello? Certified scientific genius? That kind of cred doesn't really take a vacation, I mean, I'm something of a workaholic anyway –" But he's losing his train of thought (and some of the color in his face) as the pictures keep sliding.

"An entire floor styled in 1940's inspired design –" Tony sees Steve's eyes go wide in the corner of his vision and he bites back a long, colorful stream of curses. "A heavily fortified, steel coated room which I can only assume was built for exceptionally strong individuals –" Tony glances to Bruce and sees the recognition in his eyes. "A shooting range –" Clint gives a 'whoop' of pleasure. "Three floors of bedroom suites and living spaces, a personal movie theater, a gym, and a mead hall."

Thor's eyes fall upon the image of the hall, fashioned with the glory of the Vikings in mind, and he beams. "By Odin's beard, it is magnificent!" Tony forsakes all illusions of dignity and groans, putting a hand to his forehead.

"I might just have believed it was a vacation home, given how odd you are Stark, but a fucking mead hall?" Fury is very close to laughing and if Tony could hulk out, he would be stomping on his head, repeatedly. Or removing his other eye.

"I hate every single one of you," He grumbles from behind his hand. "Except Bruce because I still owe his green ass my life, but I am still very severely irritated with you." That last statement was directed at Bruce, Tony's hand falling to motion to the man. He looks much more amused than he did before, which is a relief to Tony, and a bit baffled.

"Me? Why?"

"Because you are just as complicit as everyone else in this embarrassment – you could have easily gone big and green and smashed everything so I would not have to sit here and have those photos – those photos of the inside of my – my vacation house!" He turns to Fury. "My new vacation house which I haven't even christened with my presence yet, but that you've apparently infiltrated with your evil, pirate ways." He crosses his arms and frowns. "You are definitely uninvited to the opening party. All of you."

Clint leans forward to look across the table to Tony. "You're having an opening party?"

"Yes, but none of you can come, I've revoked your invitations."

"I've got an in with Pepper," Natasha is smirking which is like full blown belly laughter.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Tony changes wave lengths with that sentence. In with –? "In what way do you mean that and if you do mean that in the way I think you mean that, then I swear to God I will hurt you somehow if you hurt her, Russian super-secret ninja or not –"

"Tony –"

"Because Pepper is a perfect human being, and if you corrupt her, if you besmirch her in anyway –"

"Tony –"

"I can and will find a way to post embarrassing baby photos of you all over Facebook."

"Tony!"

Finally, the man snaps to attention, head spinning to face Steve. The Captain is still wide eyed, still shocked, and he's looking at Tony in a way that makes the man nervous, uncomfortable. It's… gracious, and it makes Tony itch. He feels like he should be somewhere else, like he should move out of the way so that Steve may give that look to the correct person, who is probably standing just behind Tony, and is not, in fact, actually Tony. Because Steve can't be pinning that look on Tony, because they have a relationship based on mutual loathing.

"Tony, this is… this is perfect." The world drops out from under him because Steve actually is targeting him with that gaze and his voice is breathless with appreciation. This isn't happening. "This is exactly what we need." He looks back up at the images still floating above them with something close to awe, or is it trepidation? "For the Avengers to work we need to be a team – we need to work together, maybe even live together. We have to understand each other beyond sharing one fight. This can do that." And god dammit, Steve almost sounds proud and Tony wants to throw up, but his throat is too tight. He's looking at Tony with those damnable eyes, so… so… emotional, so open and trusting, and how can he turn down a look like that?

"All right. All right." He sighs. This is the worst idea he's ever agreed to, it can only end in disaster and he tries very hard to ignore just how happy a part of him is deep, deep, deep down; hidden beneath the self-loathing and the voice that tells him this can only end badly. Somewhere down there are parts of him jumping and screaming for joy because Captain fucking America just lavished him with praise. Captain America just looked at him like he was worth something and that was more than Howard Stark ever did.

Not two days later, Steve is standing in the largest, most extravagant kitchen he's ever seen. It is stunning, and that's not a word he'd thought he'd ever use to describe a kitchen.

"Stark knows how to design a house, huh?" Clint murmurs as he passes by. Steve is broken out of his reverie, and returns to his previous work; helping unload. While the house was already furnished to perfection, it had none of the Avengers personal items. The team is currently ferrying their luggage into the foyer of the house. Pepper is standing nearby with a tablet, trying to catch Tony's attention.

"Tony," Pepper steps out of the house towards where the man is with Thor, trading quips about something. They're laughing and Steve feels a small pang of jealousy. How can a man who is so cruel with his words become so friendly with others so easily? "Tony, I need you to look at this,"

"Hmm?" His eyes snap up; he adjusts his sunglasses, glancing over them. "Oh, I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you."

Pepper stops, eyebrow cocked. "Couldn't… hear me?"

"Yes, I couldn't hear you over – over –" Tony glances around just as Clint is walking behind him to the truck, and he snaps out, grabbing the man's wrist and pulling him over. "Over the love I have for Clint." Steve's jaw drops. But Clint smirks and is apparently on the same page as Tony, because he puts his arm around Tony's waist and looks directly at Pepper.

The woman snorts. "Are you kidding?"

"How very cruel of you, to make light of our love." Pepper scoffs even as Tony speaks with the faux heart-broken tone. Clint puts on a sad face and rubs a fist at his eyes.

"I highly – I very much doubt the two of you are together." She crosses her arms and Tony smirks.

"See, it doesn't feel good, does it?" The look on her face says Pepper has no idea what he's on about, but Tony keeps going. "Not being told about your friend's illicit romance?"

Rolling her eyes, Pepper replies, "Tony, I don't have to tell you everything. And it's hardly illicit, I'm not you."

"And thank Thor for that." Clint remarks. Tony snorts, but then both eyes are drawn forward by Natasha exiting the house, walking up beside Pepper. "Tasha, how could you?" Clint scoffs dramatically.

She smirks at them and moves closer to Pepper as the other woman's face turns the same shade as her hair. "Forgive me, Clint, but she was simply irresistible." Then the spy is turning Pepper to her, their lips moving closer –

Steve spins on his heel and enters the house, feeling very much like he'd seen something he shouldn't of. He stops in the kitchen and puts a hand over his eyes, feeling heat rising to his face. It's not the fact that it's – that it's two women, though that surprised him a little. There had been same sex couples in his time, though the ones he'd known about had been men. It hadn't been accepted by society, but when it came to his team, their business was their own. It's just, no one in his time had ever been so open about it, kissing outside the home, in broad daylight!

Sighing, Steve realizes he's being rather childish, like a kid who doesn't want to see their parents kiss. He moves back outside, passing Bruce by, and sees the group has moved apart now. Pepper and Tony are talking in a corner across the way, and the others are still helping move.

Thor is standing at the back of the truck, hands on his hips, looking inside. "Friend Steve," He begins. "It seems the rest of the 'luggage' is it, has been left to us." He gestures into the truck. Steve glances in and his eyes go wide.

"That's uh… that's a lot of boxes."

"And those boxes are full of very delicate equipment that cost more than both of your lives are worth – except for yours, Steve," Tony says. "I'm pretty sure dragging you out of the ocean cost more than all this. But the point remains that if you break any of it, I will draw marker mustaches on your faces while you sleep." Pepper is rolling her eyes and grabbing at him, pulling him towards the house.

The two watch him disappear into the doorway then turn to one another. Steve gives a half smile, and Thor grins. "Shall we begin?" Thor steps up into the truck, and Steve makes to follow, when a hand enters his line of sight. He looks up. Thor is kneeling, his hand extended palm up towards Steve. Steve's mouth falls open and his ears go red, but he takes the hand and allows himself to be pulled into the truck.

Thor steps away, towards the back and the boxes, but Steve finds his feet are planted for a moment. He feels the same as he did a moment ago watching Pepper and Natasha, but now it's just him and Thor. Nervousness sends shivers through his gut and his hands are trembling just a little bit. His face is hot. Steve didn't think he could get sick anymore, but maybe he was wrong? Something has to be wrong, for him to feel like this. There's no other explanation he'll accept.

It's been a long time since Bruce has had a lab of his own, and he's pretty sure he's never had a lab this fantastic. There's more delicate equipment in this one room than he's seen his whole life. "Tony this – this is incredible!" He gives a laugh as the man steps up and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Glad you like it," Tony smirks. Bruce waits for the funny quip, the smart remark, and there isn't one. He's a little surprised. Tony's hand falls as he steps further into the room, moving from table to table, examining each piece with childish delight.

"Tony, this – all this had to of cost a fortune." Above the rage, the anger constantly simmering within him, a euphoric joy is rising, filling his chest. He can't remember the last time he felt this much sheer joy. But then, he remembers the anger, and anxiety begins to filter through his happiness. "Are you sure about this? The other guy would make short work of all of this given one bad day." He's going to say more, but Tony's stalking forward, rolling his eyes, and lifting an arm to throw around Bruce's shoulders.

"And I can replace everything in here like," He snaps his fingers, pulling Bruce along. "Though that is a good segue way to introduce the next room."

At the back of the lab is an elevator. Tony approaches, putting his thumbprint against a reader. "This will only open for you or me; if you want to add somebody else, you can, but it's completely up to you." The doors open and he pulls Bruce through, stepping away as they enter. The doors shut and they begin to descend. Bruce puts his hands in his pockets, trying hard not to remember containment from the past, trying to convince the brutal instincts in the back of his mind that this time is different – he's not being locked away.

The doors open to an absolutely enormous room, lined in steel and filled with what Bruce can only describe as junk. It's all made of metal, and looks kind of like rejected modern art. He examines the room hard, but he can see no weapons, no guns, no lasers. He supposes they could be hidden in the walls. His spine is like rock, stiff, and he feels pressure inside his head like water about to boil over. He fights it.

Tony is relaxed, unaware of his struggle, an easy smile on his face. Bruce feels a stab of anger at that, but he shoves it down. "So, what do you think?" He turns to Bruce and the smile fades, an oddly serious look coming over him. Bruce backs away a little. "Hey, you okay?"

"Y – Yeah, fine." He brushes his forehead, tries to ignore how much this room puts him on edge, and looks away. "This is great. Thanks." But then hands are on his shoulders and he jumps, surprised, and his heartbeat elevates for a brief moment.

"Don't give me that, I can tell something's up." Tony examines his face and Bruce feels aggravated suddenly. His eyes narrow. Bruce looks away, trying not to meet his gaze, but somehow Tony sees right through him. "Bruce, this isn't a cage to toss you in when you stub your toe, it's – it's supposed to be a place to unwind, to let off some steam. 'The Green Room', remember?" He gives a half grin and Bruce chuckles a little. "It would be hard to tear this place apart, even for the other guy, and all this shit –" He motions to the junk. "It's here just so he can tear it up. I figured he might get off your back a little, if he could come out to play once in a while." Even as Bruce looks up, he feels that anger, that inner presence that is always waiting gives an approving rumble.

"Tony, I…" He chokes up, his chest tight and it's not because he's angry. "You don't have to pretty it up, I understand how dangerous he is -" Bruce is interrupted by a smack to the back of his head.

It's not hard. It doesn't even really hurt, it just shocks him, and it sends a thrill through him too, part anger, part… something else. He looks up with wide eyes at Tony, a hand on his head, and Tony is smirking. "I'm not scared of you, Bruce." He says, backing away. "And this isn't a cage. I built this for you, not to hold you."

"Why aren't you?" He asks, stunned. "Why aren't you afraid?" Everyone's afraid. Even Betty, who had accepted him despite everything, who had walked straight up to the other guy and stared him down, was still scared, and for good reason. But this egotistical, smart-ass billionaire had just smacked him and is grinning ear to ear.

"Trade secret." Tony says simply, and at Bruce's baffled look, begins to laugh.

Hours later, as night is descending, Steve steels his strength and approaches Tony's lab. His chest is tight and he is jittery with nerves, but he refuses to turn away. He'd really rather be anywhere else at the moment, but he can't just leave. Taking a deep breath, Steve lifts his hand and knocks.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

He's taken off guard by the relaxed, almost irritated grumble. "Ah, Tony? May I come in?"

There's a pause before he gets a response. "… yeah, I guess. Why the hell not." He thinks he hears some grumbles of 'supposed to be playing nice' and 'that god-damn pirate'. He enters cautiously, his eyes roaming as he takes in the impossible things around him. Sometimes he wonders if he woke up in a science fiction story.

Tony is across the room, his back towards him, hunched over something at his work table. "What can I do for you, Captain?" Steve walks through the room as if all these gadgets might bite him, and knowing Tony, they just might. Then he remembers his mission and clears his throat.

"Can I talk to you for a moment, Tony?"

"Sure. We're talking now. Talk away." He reaches over and picks up a tool, begins using it. He's only half paying attention.

Steve grips his hands tight. "I mean a conversation, face-to-face. I'd, uh, rather not say this to your back."

Tony freezes. He removes the goggles from his head, sets the tool down. For a brief moment he glances back at Steve. "Okay, if this is a don't-want-to-talk-to-your-back talk, then this is a talk I'd really rather not have. So, let's not and say we did, huh? Good? Great."

"Tony –" Then he notices the man's appearance. There are dark bags under his eyes, his shoulders are slouched, and he looks exhausted. There's a cup of coffee at his elbow and something called a Red Bull behind it. Steve remembers the meeting earlier, how Tony had gone without sleep for a few days before the incident. "Tony, have you slept at all since the meeting?"

"Sure," He shrugs, turns back around. "I took a nap in the car. Might've gotten some z's at dinner. Can't really remember." He's putting the goggles back on, but Steve moves forward to take hold of his arm.

"Tony, you haven't slept a whole night in days. This is dangerous!" He notices that Tony is, in fact, working with things that exhausted men should not be working with; when Tony tries to wrench his hand away, Steve lets go, but he doesn't back away. "You need to take a break."

"Uh, in case you forgot, someone just tried to kill me." He says a sharp edge in his tone. "And we still have no idea who did it, and why, so I think it's more productive for me to be working towards those answers than hitting the sack." Steve glances down at the project in Tony's hands, which he really can't make head or tails of.

"And that's going to give you the answer?" He asks incredulously. Tony smirks at him and that look makes him tense, it gives rise to old thoughts of inferiority and though he's changed his mind about thinking Tony's a bully, this moment puts him on edge.

"Tony? Steve?" They both turn as one to see Bruce in the doorway. "Is everything all right?"

In the next instant, Tony throws a drawer open with such force that it falls to the floor. He snatches something out of it, latches it onto his wrist, and then attaches it to a handle on the desk. Steve and Bruce stare for half a minute before Bruce speaks.

"Are those fuzzy handcuffs?"

Steve has no idea what they are, but they're pink and fluffy and they're attached to Tony and the desk. The man wiggles them in defiance at both Bruce and Steve. "Yes they are, and unless you want to break Captain America, you really shouldn't ask why they're here. Okay, now, the tour is over, time to get out –"

SNAP.

With an easy tug, the handle comes out of the desk, and Steve drops it. Tony stares at it for ten seconds before muttering, "Duh", and cursing a litany under his breath. Bruce is trying not to laugh and Steve is surprised to find he's doing the same. Tony stands reluctantly and heads towards the door, giving Bruce a shove that makes the man finally give in to laughing.

Tony is gone a moment later, leaving Steve with Bruce. They're both still grinning, but being alone with the other man suddenly reminds Steve of what he'd been planning to do. His nerves rise again, but he steps forward. Bruce turns his attention to him.

"Uh, Bruce, I um…" He takes in a deep breath. "I wanted to apologize, for… before." Bruce seems confused so he continues. "I misjudged you – you, and the… the Hulk. I treated you badly and didn't treat you like part of the team, and I am very, very sorry." Bruce's eyes are going wide, and Steve's not sure if he's about to run away or faint or go Hulk.

"No, Steve, it's fine. I mean, I understand." Bruce smiles but Steve frowns. "The other guy… he's unpredictable, and he's dangerous. I don't blame you for –"

"No, Bruce, I – no." Sighing, Steve puts a hand to his head, his thoughts whirling. Bruce stares, eyes narrowed, and Steve feels his heart clench. He thinks of his own transformation, of the change which had given him so much, and he tries imagining his own change going more like Bruce's had. He tries imagining his life like Bruce's, and it breaks his heart. He approaches the other man, and he sees Bruce tense up. Steve stops a few feet away.

"The night before I went through the procedure that made me into… this…" He gestures to himself. "The doctor in charge talked to me about what would happen. He said that his serum didn't just change the body – it amplified everything inside. Good, bad, everything." Bruce's eyes are darkening, but Steve pushes ahead. "That's why, when I first met you, I was nervous. I read your file and I couldn't imagine how someone could have so much anger inside them, that a version of the serum could make them into… into the other guy. I wasn't sure if having you around was a good idea."

"But I was wrong. There's more in you than anger. You came back to help us when you didn't have to, the Hulk worked with us as a team, and he even saved Tony's life." Bruce is looking down, his fists clenched, and though Steve mildly wonders if this conversation will end with a green fist plowing into him, he continues. "There is good in you. A lot of good. And if that's true of you, then it's true of him. He's just you made… more." Suddenly Steve realizes that's he's been rambling and saying a lot more than he probably should and his face colors. "So I just… I wanted you to know that I was wrong. That you – both of you – you aren't a monster. And I'm sorry I ever thought otherwise."

Bruce is deathly quiet, and Steve wonders if he's ruined any chance of them being more than just reluctant teammates. He surprises himself by how much that idea hurts. But then he hears Bruce speaking, and looks up again.

"Thank you." The man mutters, his voice weak. "That, um… that means a lot. Coming from you."

Steve, embarrassed again, looks away, a hand brushing through his hair. "Well, you're welcome."

It is awkwardly silent for a moment, and Steve wonders if he should just leave since the science floor isn't really his home, when Tony suddenly enters the room again.

He approaches his desk and moves to open the same drawer, before seeming to realize it's on the floor. Grumbling, he kneels, shuffles through it, and removes a key. He uses that key to take the handcuffs off his hand, and they drop into the drawer with the handle. Then he drops the key, still grumbling, and walks back past Steve and Bruce as if he doesn't see them. Steve and Bruce stare after him as if they're not sure whether to laugh or shake their heads.

Bruce speaks up after Tony leaves. "I'm guessing you were in here to say something similar to Tony?"

"Uh, yeah." He gives a little chuckle. "You can see how well that went."

"He's not going to make it easy." Bruce admits. "He's not a very open person."

"Are any of us?" Steve shrugs, and moves past Bruce for the door. "I'm going to go make sure he actually went to bed."

"I'll keep watch in case he tries to sneak back down here." Bruce calls after him as Steve enters the elevator. The doors close, and he slumps against the back wall with a sigh of relief. He managed to do it and somehow not stick his foot into his mouth or piss off a giant green rage-mountain. But as hard as this was, he imagines Tony's will be much, much harder.

It takes a week for them to settle in, to move all their belongings into place, and to fall into a routine that is vaguely familiar. Everyone hits rough edges at some point, rubs each other the wrong way, but for the most part, they get along surprisingly well.

Each person takes a turn cooking – despite Tony's insistence that he could hire chefs, or afford to order food in every day, or even could buy a restaurant chain to cater to their needs – but Steve refuses to allow it. He also refuses to allow Tony to hire a cleaning service, and within two days, everyone has been assigned chores. Tony is distraught over the idea; everyone else is chuckling at Steve's speech about personal responsibility and agreeing to it to placate him.

Clint and Tony have become a dangerous duo; the only one who can survive the two of them teaming up against them is Natasha, who can turn both to spineless goo in half a minute. Otherwise, their sharp tongues cut everybody up, and at times, each other, though it's all in good fun and everyone seems to take it well. Their jokes fly over Thor's head half the time, anyway.

They had a meeting midway through the week to discuss a dress code. This meeting became an imperative after Pepper woke half the house with her startled scream upon finding Thor cooking eggs in the kitchen in absolutely nothing. The meeting closed with a long list of rules of what was appropriate to do where and when, and Tony bought Thor over a thousand dollars-worth of bed things. His excuse was that, if such a gift from the heavens as Thor's body had to be hidden, it would be hidden by the finest luxury a billionaire could afford.

Someone went out and bought more coffee machines on the third day, after Tony threw a fit when he found all the coffee had been drunk. Each floor with a kitchen had two machines, one for Tony, one for everyone else.

Steve, meanwhile, was still trying to catch up with the times, and the group had made it a part of their mission to start teaching him – and Thor – what they didn't know. It had led to some laughs (Mel Brooks movies), some tears (9/11), some happiness (social progress), and some anger (racism, sexism, Amendment 1). Though it wasn't always easy, all in all, everything seemed to be going surprisingly well.

Then they got their first call.

"This is ridiculous," Tony mumbles. "We're getting beat by Hellboy and the Ice Queen."

'Hellboy' is a red skinned man with a devil's tail, who has the nasty habit of teleporting. Ice Queen is a blonde woman in white who can turn her skin so hard that even the Hulk can't smash her. They are fighting in a government facility, where the two had infiltrated and stolen data of some kind. The mission is simple enough – beat the two baddies and get the info back. It is not going so well.

Tony is flying above, trying to come up with a plan to end this. So far, Hellboy has been keeping Natasha and Clint busy. Every so often he'll teleport while holding one of them, moving them somewhere terribly inconvenient, like outside the building or even on top of it. Tony had been playing taxi more than he's been fighting, retrieving teammates from odd places.

Hulk, meanwhile, is facing off with the diamond girl, and though she's not hurting him, he's not hurting her either. No matter how many walls he throws her through, no matter how many times his giant fists descend upon her, she is unfazed. Cap and Thor join the fight, and even the three together can't knock her down permanently. Tony tries firing at her and it just bounces off. This is getting frustrating.

He decides to intervene on Clint and Natasha's fight, hoping that Hellboy will be taken by surprise and not teleport away; but when he tries to aim, the suit won't move properly. He tries lifting his arm and it fights him, it won't aim at the man.

"JARVIS, this is not a good time to be getting kinks." He snaps, frustration lacing his tone.

"Sir, there is nothing wrong with the armor. It is functioning at primary capacity."

"Then why isn't it –" He tries shaking his arm and it shakes, but as he turns around to try and aim at Hellboy again, it doesn't work. He's not aiming at Hellboy – he's aiming at Clint, and he can't move his arm away – his eyes go wide and he shouts into the com. "Guys! Something's wrong with the suit, Barton –"

"Use code names on the comm, Iron man!"

"GODDAMN IT, HAWKEYE IT'S AIMING AT YOU!"

Then the repulsor fires, and Tony's heart stops as the beam fires true, mere seconds from blasting Clint in the chest – when a red, white, and blue shield flies between them, sending the beam off course. Relief floods Tony but suddenly he realizes the suit is not responding to him at all anymore, and he can't pull up – he tries bracing himself as the suit powers off –

Steve sees the Hulk leap away, out of the fight, screaming in rage as he does. Steve is at least reassured that Tony won't slam into the ground, but now it's just him, Thor, and the diamond woman, and things are not looking good.

He can't put a dent in her and the shield is halfway across the room; he's pretty much useless, for all his strength, and it is infuriating. Thor is still trading blows with her, and when Steve tries to reenter the fight, she turns her attention on him and BAM – her fist hits his neck and he snaps back hard, skidding across the floor. His back burns and his head is on fire, and he's struggling to sit up and see through narrowed eyes –

Thor is putting the hurt on with Mjolnir, and he's having better luck than anyone at holding his own with her – but just as he's backing her into a corner, the woman flips away and smirks. She stares Thor down and suddenly the man is screaming, dropping his weapon and falling to his knees, hands flying to his head. She's doing something to him and Steve has no idea what, but that terrible scream echoes in his ears and his chest tightens. He glares at the woman, and in the next instant he's on his feet, barreling across the room. He can't reach his shield, but he can make it to Thor – he kneels down, takes hold of Mjolnir with both hands, and lifts – it is the heaviest thing he's ever held in his life and he is going to feel this tomorrow, but he lifts it, and spins about, tossing it at the woman hard. It thuds into her chest and tosses her across the room, slamming her into the back wall. When she slides to the bottom, she's unconscious, her diamond skin fading away.

Steve hears Thor give a groan, and in the next instant, Steve is catching him as he slumps to the ground. He lays him down gently, and then stands, rushing towards his opponent.

Natasha and Clint are helping each other up, having just been teleported into the air and dropped, - Clint's quick thinking and the right arrow catch them, but they've been preoccupied enough for the red guy to get away. He's teleported to the woman's side, and Steve rushes across the room but it's too late. He grabs her hand and they're gone.

Steve slides to a halt, curses, and puts his hands on his knees. They've been beaten bad. We beat a whole army of alien invaders, but two people with special powers get the jump on us? He can hardly believe it; he might not have, had he not seen it. He feels the failure and guilt especially strongly, because he's the leader, and he should've thought ahead for this, he should have done something, sooner.

Frowning, he approaches Mjolnir and picks it up, though it weighs a ton, holding the handle with two hands. He turns back to approach the group. The Hulk is helping Tony stand with a hand behind his back, and Natasha and Clint are coming down from the ceiling, landing on their feet. Thor is struggling to stand, but he does, a hand still rubbing his head. Steve sees his shield on the ground as he walks, kneels and picks it up. Now he's holding Mjolnir with one hand and it's really heavy, but he manages.

Thor looks up as Steve approaches, and he lifts the hammer towards the demi-god to hand it back, but Thor doesn't take it. Confused, Steve looks up. Thor is staring at him, eyes wide, mouth dropped open. Steve wonders for a moment if something happened to his face, or maybe his wounds are worse than he thought, or maybe there's something particularly surprising behind him. He glances back, sees nothing, and then turns to look at Thor again.

"Are you all right?" He wonders if whatever the woman did to Thor's head has made this happen. "Thor, are you okay?"

Thor reaches out then, takes hold of Mjolnir, and lifts it, his stunned gaze settling on it. Steve turns to look at the rest of the team – and they're all staring at him too. Tony, face mask lifted, has a look that is an ungodly mix of bafflement and irritation. Natasha has an eyebrow cocked, Clint is smirking, and the Hulk is already changing back to Banner so Steve has no idea if he has also been affected by this strange, mood-altering… thing.

"What's going on? Is something on me?" He looks over himself, sees no change, and frowns. He jumps when a hand falls on his shoulder. Thor is grinning at him, eyes bright and wide.

"Friend Steve… you are a worthy Captain." Steve has no chance to ask what in the world the man means, because in the next moment, he is being enveloped by the demi-gods enormous biceps. He's not sure whether to protest or melt. He's also not sure what to think about the desire to melt. So he stops thinking, stops wondering what the hell brought this on, and just enjoys it.