8
To be fair, it wasn't really an ice-cream birthday party so much as an ice-cream birthday free for all; one which poor Steve didn't even end up staring in much as he should have (aside from the part where they sing the song and blow the candles) because Tony is an attention whore and Clint is just a whore.
The plan had been to have Natasha and Pepper as the task force appointed to occupy Steve, who would be putty in the hands of two suddenly hapless ladies who required help assembling Pepper's new surround sound in her apartment downtown.
Left to their own devices, (with very firm warnings from Pepper) the remaining Avengers had quickly gathered to compare blueprints for building the ice cream cake. Except they'd all expected somebody else to come up with said blueprints, the result being three slightly embarrassed grown men standing amongst twenty-odd cartons of ice cream, with more on the way and the ingrained fear of Pepper playing out violent little fantasy reels in their heads.
As usual, it falls upon Tony to take change, because Bruce looks as if he's one yogurt pot away from hulking out and Clint hasn't stopped twitching in the last six minutes.
'Guys! Guys, we're fine. The girls are gone and we have an hour to do this, and most important of all, we have my brain working for us.' He gaze sweeps the floor, making rapid calculations with his brilliant mind. 'Here's how we're going to split the job. Bruce can do the heavy lifting, I'll direct, and Clint can say 'yes master' a lot and keep an eye on the door.'
'Why am I always Igor?' Clint mutters mutinously. 'Every goddamn time I'm Igor.'
'Tell me again why we didn't just buy an ice cream cake.'
'Because Steve likes ice-cream, Bruce, not ice-cream cake. There's a world of difference.'
Bruce is rubbing the bridge of his nose. 'Tell me why we didn't just commission one, then.'
'Because everybody wrote down what flavours they wanted and by the time we compiled that, it was sixteen pages long. And that's after taking off Thor's really weird requests, like banana-bacon and mattress stuffing.'
The physicist sighs. 'It wouldn't have fit through the door anyways.'
They end up standing around and arguing too much so Tony decides to take a page from Loki and wave magic snappy fingers at them. 'Go off now and meet me back in the kitchen with that fuck-tonne of ice-cream building materials.'
Interestingly it worked, albeit with a great deal of muttering behind Tony's back. But still. Maybe Loki is on to something after all.
They proceed to create the tower by mashing ice-cream into small round buckets and upending the containers on each other, stack by stack. Unfortunately, Bruce's suggestion of making it ziggurat-shaped was vetoed by Tony's idea of making it slim and cylindrical like a tower (more pointedly, like Stark Tower) which ultimately resulted in the cake's resemblance to the leaning tower of piza once the candles had been lit, and then collapsing completely midway through the birthday song.
The initial idea had also been to stick to blueberry, strawberry and vanilla for the colours, but they quickly ran out, and after a while the tower starts looking as if a hundred birds had made colourful, technicolor bird-poos on it.
Tony's not worried about artistic interpretation however, because he can always blame Clint.
Clint is tasked to decorate the hall, but his half-hearted attempts and incurable bird-like curiosity results in him spending most of his time in the kitchen with Bruce and Tony, making unhelpful comments and stumbling over empty cartons.
They hit a wall when Clint takes out the candles.
'Guys. How many candles do we put on the cake for Cap?'
'I don't know,' Bruce shrugs.
'Whatever the answer, you won't have enough candles, Clint. Just stick a big one in for every decade,' Tony says distractedly, trying to remove the blobs of cold slush tricking down his neck.
'And how many is that?'
'Does the year's he's been asleep count?'
'Nein, for then we'll need ninety candles.'
'I suppose we could always make the cake taller.'
Tony decides to leave them to it, and spends his time bitterly complaining about the freezing temperature JARVIS has readjusted the living space to and looking surreptitiously around for melon flavoured gelato.
~o0o0o~
The party begins when Steve walks in to a freezing hallway, spots his half-hung birthday banner dangling forlornly between ceiling fan and floor and virtually no surface left on the floor for walking on account of the hundred-odd tubs lying around.
'Surprise!'
It's amazing how fast Steve turns red when showered with attention. 'You guys are amazing.'
'Tony made the banner,' Clint chirps unhelpfully. It reads 'Every Birthday Needs Strippers' and had a picture of a pin up girl strategically holding onto a shield.
'Where the hell did you find 289 flavours?' Steve boggles. 'Even Baskin Robbins has only 31.'
'I mixed up a bunch of stuff from the lab.' Bruce informs him with a perfectly straight face. 'If some of them start turning green, don't eat it.'
'This is the best birthday of my life,' Steve says tearfully, and Tony can barely resist rolling his eyes.
Aside from the insane cold, it turns out to be a really spiffy party, one that really picked itself up after Tony takes it upon himself to fill all the half-eaten tubs with liquor. He has an appointment he doesn't want to miss and his band of merry men didn't look like they were about to tire out anytime soon, so… a good deed done and everyone happy and Tony gets to leave by five, because he's brilliant and efficient that way.
Even Pepper behaves herself. Aside from an aggrieved expression and a vaguely threatening 'we'll talk later' to Tony, she mostly forgets about work and gives herself over to an afternoon off. The only let down is Thor, who had made a special effort to return to earth in time for Steve's party; and then proceeded to frown throughout it. Beyond the first cursory greeting, Tony avoids him. He has a feeling he doesn't want to know.
~o0o0o~
'And what the hell flavour is this? Osmanthus – well I never – eeeew, this smells like Nat's perfume when she goes undercover as a cheap courtesan-'
The Black Widow arches an eyebrow. 'How would you like to smell of the insides of a toilet as I pull the flush.'
Clint brandishes the carton threateningly. 'Stay back, Nat! I'm armed with flower-power and I'm not afraid to us-ooof-'
'Hey if you aren't eating the flower ones I'll take it,' Tony hollers over the pair. 'And gimme all the melon ones too.'
'Tony? Since when did you go for eau de fruity-flora bouquet?'
'Yeah Tin Can, if this is an attempt to deal with your BO, you can't eat your way to a sweeter smelling bod.'
'Actually as it happens, you can.' Bruce informs them. 'There are studies out that that say vegetarians are judged more sexually attractive by scent alone.'
'My body smells just fine.' Tony says, making an extravagant show of sniffing himself. 'Smells just like Tony Stark, hunk o' glorious manly flesh.'
'Litmus test! Let me smell your armpits-'
'Fly away now, little bird. Mama's calling.'
'With a kitchen knife,' the Russian redhead murmurs.
'No violence on off-days,' Steve chants his usual reminders. Poor Steve, playing mummy even on his birthday.
After OD-ing on too many flavours they spent the remaining afternoon making little snow-cream figures of the Avengers, although Clint recieves a well-deserved whack when he gives Natasha little ice-cream boobs.
'You have no sense of proportion or taste, Clint.' Tony tsks. 'Tasha's snowman shouldn't look like that.'
'Dam straight.'
'Her chest should be much bigger. Here Bruce, you do it.'
'I'll need a bigger spoon,' Bruce says critically.
Only Tony's (recently much utilised) reflexes save him from a face full of cold pink sludge.
Steve, as is his wont, laughs at everything and makes fun of nothing. And it is Steve of course with his incurable Labrador's instinct for saving grannies and cheering up 5th graders who also takes it upon himself to draw Thor out of his funk.
'Nay, for I am in poor spirits and would not prevail mine worries upon my shield brothers on such a day,' said Thor, who'd probably thought himself terribly subtle as he brooded in the corner of the television room endlessly stirring his pot of vanilla macadamia fudge.
'Are you sure, Thor?'
'It's Cap's birthday, big guy, you can't refuse the birthday boy if he asks you something.'
Thor looks troubled at that, but he looks even more torn about sharing, and the resulting expressions of hangdog bewilderment that chases across his face makes everyone uncomfortable.
'Friends, I needs make a grievous confession to you about the reason of mine extended absence.'
Tony shoots up like a rocket. 'Guys guys, its Stevie's birthday party! Why don't we leave the work stuff for tomorrow-'
Thro continues as if he hadn't heard Tony. 'Long had I fought the Allfather's judgement to no avail, and it is with a heavy heart that I bear to you the gravest ne-'
'Comeon people, its Sunday!' Tony yells, and then flips the bird at Bruce. 'Don't shush me. You shush!'
'Loki is back on migard.' Thor announces grimly.
And then all hell breaks loose.
~o0o0o~
'-but that is not the problem. I know mine brother is most remorseful of his hand in recent events-'
'We're talking about Loki, Thor. Remorseful is not a word I'd lay within a hundred mile radius of 'Thoughts Loki Laufeyson would ever have in this life'.
'His name is Loki Odinson, for he is still and will always be mine baby brother,' Thor frowns. 'But you speak truth, son of Banner, for upon returning to migard I had not made my way here immediately but had gone off in search of mine brother, that I may see with mine own eyes that he is safe and causing no new mischief.' He broke off and shook his shaggy head like a great bear. 'And when I found him, I could not believe what I chanced upon.'
Tony clears his throat, unconscious of drawing Natasha's sharp eyes. 'And what did you see?'
'He was-'
'What? What?'
Thor actually turns away, looking beyond distressed.
'He was drinking. I saw mine brother holding on to a bottle of Miguardian mead.'
'Urm.'
'What- Why would this be such a concern, big guy?'
'Verily I am afraid for what he might do, for my brother has never taken to drink,' Thor frets, looking very much like some character in a Shakespeare play about to reveal a game-changing secret. 'To do so at such a point in his life and all alone; I fear it might awaken in him an aggression or grief that pours yet more mischief upon the world.'
'Did you- did you approach him?' Steve asks grimly.
'Nay, for I think he sensed mine presence and teleported away before I could reach him.'
'We have to inform Fury about this,' Natasha coolly points out.
As for Tony, he's just trying very hard not to choke.
'I shall have to find Loki again.' Thor said earnestly. 'I must find out what could have driven him to such low extremities as to resort to migardian drinking methods-'
'Could it be because your alien stuff tastes like piss?'
Five heads shrivels towards him, and Tony freezes.
'Hey. I'm just throwing it out there.'
~o0o0o~
