Chapter 8

I woke up the next morning to the sound of Tony complaining in his room, something about showers and food. Rolling over, I fell out of bed and landed with a large thump on the floor. "Ouch," I grumbled, standing up and walking slowly to my closet. Muttering to myself, I grabbed a pair of dark blue jeans and a golden mesh shirt, which I pulled on, keeping on the turquoise shirt from the night before. Putting the black ballet flats back on, I stumbled out the door, bumping into Tony.

"Hey, watch where you're going," he called as I continued to lurch down the hall. I mumbled an unintelligible smartass comment, and persisted in my journey down the hall. He ran forward, catching me as I tripped over my own feet. "Woah, Mel. Have you been drinking?"

"Nah," I muttered. "Just tired."

"What were you doing last night?"

"Annoying you. Annoying Loki. Exploring." Yawning, I leaned against Tony, welcoming his support.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"What time is it?" Tony looked at his watch.

"Six," he said.

"Alright, then I got five hours of sleep." Soon, we had arrived at the computer room. I staggered over to the table and collapsed on it. "So. Tired," I whispered, and curled up. I heard a snicker, probably Tony, and a chuckle that my muddled brain took several minutes to decipher and identify as Bruce's. Someone put a pillow under my head and spread a blanket over me. My sleep deprived mind hoped it was Bruce. I grabbed the hand of whoever it had been and went to sleep, clutching the hand to my chest.

I woke up about an hour later, fully refreshed. I was still on the table, and though I was no longer holding his hand, Bruce sat in a chair by the side of the table, a book in his hand. He looked up as I sat, smiling.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he said, and I smiled back.

"Morning, Bruce. Did you get any sleep?" I asked, swinging my legs around and off the edge of the table.

"Not very much. I had some thinking to do."
"Oh, really? And how did that go?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Well, I was trying to see the situation from another point of view, and then, around two in the morning, it hit me. It doesn't-" he started, but was cut off by the entrance of Steve and Thor. I sighed and patted Bruce's shoulder.

"You can tell me later," I whispered as Tony entered. The tension in the room was obvious, none of them really trusted each other. Tony and Steve were especially wary of Thor, because Loki was his brother. They argued, but I tuned it all out, I honestly didn't care. As long as they didn't kill each other, it's all good.

"Mel, would you tell Hammerhead over here that I'm right?" Tony asked, startling me out of my reverie. I looked up to see him glaring and pointing at Thor, who was glaring back with his hammer raised. Sighing, I slid off the table and walked between them.

"Tony, I can't say you're right when I have no clue what you were talking about. Shush," I said, shooting him a venomous look when he opened his mouth. "Thor, please put the hammer down. You don't have to drop it," I added quickly at his growl. "Just lower it so that there's no danger of your hand slipping and the hammer 'accidentally' bashing him in the head." Spreading my hands out, I placed one on Thor's chest, the other on Tony's. "Honestly, boys, if we can't all get along, there's no way we'll be able to defeat Loki and whatever he's got planned. You need to stop fighting."

They both looked unconvinced, but they backed off. The hammer was lowered, and both took a step back. "Good," I said. "Now, just be quiet and play nice."

"I think that's impossible for them," Natasha said, walking in. I shook my head.

"A girl can dream, right?" We laughed, and sat back by Bruce. "Why is everyone at each other's throats? We're supposed to be a team."

"Tony rubs everyone the wrong way," Natasha muttered. I nodded.

"Yeah. He's not that much of a team player. Steve seems more of the teamwork type, though it's obvious he can do everything himself. Thor… I honestly don't know," I replied, watching the three.

"Neither do I," Natasha answered. She watched them as well, as they argued. "It's like watching three dogs fight over a piece of meat, isn't it."

"Yeah. But what, exactly, is the meat?" Natasha and I looked at each other, then shook our heads. "Nah, that can't be it."

"They're probably arguing so much because they're all from different places and time periods," Bruce said. I looked down at him from my spot on the table.

"I guess so. I just wish they'd stop. It's giving me a headache, and when I have a headache it's never pretty." They both laughed at that.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. It makes me happy! :D You know, cause no one ever reviews my stuff on other sites...

So, here's the next chapter! It's a bit longer than the last few. I hope you like it!

Hasta la pasta!