I would have gotten this chapter up earlier, but I kind of accidentally went to see Avengers again because I wanted to get Bruce's voice clearer in my head. And now my head is full of voices, most of them bickering with each other. Thank you, Joss Whedon.

Also – you people rock profoundly. The reviews, alerts, and favs delight me. Thank you. To those who asked about the bromance I mentioned...this is not a slash fic (though they certainly have their times and places!), so it'll all be in the light of the guys being Best Buddies Ever. The romantic pairings for the rest of this fic are limited to Tony/Pepper, eventual Steve/Sharon and a touch of Clint/Natasha. And all the rest of them being Best Buddies Ever.

I have seriously considered the idea that I may have an Avengers problem.


"Okay, so here's my secret. I used to watch it all the time, but I've decided now I hate Dancing With the Stars." Tony shook his head, glancing at Bruce over the top of a computer screen. "Bunch of washed-up has-beens. They asked me to be on there once. Turned 'em down flat. I said, 'Actually, I have self-respect, thank you very fucking much."

Bruce chuckled. "Probably just as well. They'd have had to bleep every other word you said in the post-show analysis."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Bunch of prudes. I think in curse words, actually. Betcha didn't know that."

"It's not entirely a shock," Bruce said dryly. Tony's swearing didn't bother him or any of the other Avengers; in fact, Bruce was continually amused by the creative twists Tony put upon any the concept. The only one who outclassed Tony in that category was Natasha, if one bothered to translate the things she muttered to herself. Russians had some really unique curses, most of which involved things being done with animals and/or someone's mother.

"Well, someone has to make up for Steve around here." Tony made a face. "We faced a metric fuckton of Loki's alien buddies and the harshest word he utters is 'bastards.' I mean, really? Who does that? People cursed in the forties!"

It was a frequent topic of their lab conversations, Steve Rogers and his never-ending good-guy image. Tony liked to make a big deal about bitching over it, but Bruce had realized Tony secretly liked it. It was just a part of who Steve was; it was quaint but charming, and it provided an occasionally needed contrast to Tony's larger-than-life persona. "Steve didn't."

"I know, right?" Tony nodded quickly, making pleased noises at his computer screen before getting back to the topic. "My dad always told me about that, how he couldn't believe this guy who led soldiers to the gates of hell and back was pure as the driven snow. I think Dad was a little jealous, actually. That apple-pie goodness could have melted the panties off of even yesterday's women, and he only ever wanted the one." Tony's eyes widened suddenly. "Oh, God. Oh, God bless America."

Bruce recognized that look; Tony was having an "aha" moment. "What did you just invent?"

"The man is still a virgin." Tony giggled – actually giggled, and a little hysterically at that.

Bruce laughed and sent a data burst to Tony's console. "You're just now figuring that out?" Bruce was hardly the social being that Tony was, but he realized that much a long time ago.

"Not really, but I just thought about it." When Tony was on a kick, he bounced a little on his feet and began to sound like he could have used a healthy dose of lithium. "Oh. That is priceless."

"We don't actually know for sure," Bruce said – and, really, they did, but it was in his nature to play devil's advocate. "I mean, we know he was when he was taken out of deep freeze, but..."

Tony fixed Bruce with a stare. "You're not actually suggesting...no. God, for the love of all that is holy, no. You are not even trying to suggest that he...they... You know what, Banner? You are a sick man."

Bruce was loving Tony's understated outrage and he was playing right into Bruce's hand. "A little wine, a little music, two lonely people with a past..." Steve would probably murder him on the spot if he heard a word of this, but Bruce knew the moment would stay between him and Tony. What happened in the lab stayed there unless it had real-world applications. They could afford to be a bit disrespectful because they both knew no harm was actually meant. It was similar to the camaraderie of siblings. They could mess with each other but no one could mess with them.

Tony put his hands to his ears. "La, la, la, I can't hear you!"

Bruce shook his head. "Winding you up is way too easy."

"Fuck you," Tony said cheerfully. "Just for that, I'm making your pants polka-dotted. And girly."

"My pants?" Bruce looked down at his khakis.

Tony pointed to Bruce's console. "Duh, check your shared drive. I put a spin on Richards' work with clothing fibers, so the oh-so-Fantastic Four could actually use their powers without getting arrested for public indecency."

Bruce nodded and began to search for new files. "Right, I'm familiar with the theory." He opened the latest file from Tony and was treated to an animated Hulk GIF with neon purple pants. "Really, Stark?"

Tony grabbed a spare computer stylus from the cup he kept full of them – he was always losing them, it seemed – and threw one at Bruce, who caught it. His reflexes were getting better. "Figures you'd find the Easter egg before the actual number-crunching. Dork."

Bruce tucked the stylus into his shirt pocket and opened another file. "Okay, so you've adapted Richards' fabric to accommodate..." Despite his increasing control, and despite when it had been needed, Bruce was still uncomfortable with the idea of deliberately Hulking out. "Magic pants?"

"Magic pants," Tony confirmed. "So far shreds have managed to stick to you, but, really, you're courting disaster. I, for one, do not ever want to see your dick."

"Don't lie." Bruce was not normally one for juvenile male humor, but for Tony, he could stoop to that level. "You know you want to find out if everything gets big and green, and...throbbing." He cleared his throat and offered his best bedroom eyes, though he knew from experience with ladies that they weren't very convincing.

"You know what? I'm going to send my next therapist bill to you." Tony pointed a finger in Bruce's direction. "First of all, I invented that joke, only it was about Mr. Fantastic and his then-girlfriend. Secondly, do you really enjoy being naked when you de-Hulk?"

"Okay, so maybe the idea has merit," Bruce allowed. A beat, for effect. "But I've checked your browser history. You have every Hulk/Iron Man slash fanfiction out there favorited."

Tony smiled winningly. "Only because they were written by you."

"Touche." Bruce took the stylus out of his pocket, re-purposing it for use as a dart. It bounced off of Tony's arc reactor and Tony took great care inspecting the outer casing.

"I'm gonna tell Pepper that you tried to kill me!" Tony insisted in a tone worthy of a damsel in distress.

Bruce merely smirked. Three weeks since he'd moved in. Steve's ribs were well-healed and thus Bruce's excuses for staying were gone. And still, he was there, playing in the labs that were all Tony had promised and more. Occupying the entire fifty-sixth floor of a swanky Manhattan building. And not worrying every living second that people might discover a monster lurked beneath his skin. He still had his rage, but even that seemed easier.

It was getting to be kind of nice, actually.


It all started innocently enough.

Tony got an email from Pepper, the subject line alone of which was entertaining.

You owe me royalties!

Tony opened the email, wondering what she was up to.

I just realized something. Female. Fe is Iron. Male is man. Therefore, I am Iron Man.

You're welcome.

Pepper

Delighted, Tony forwarded it to everyone he knew.

By noon the next day, strangers were posting it on Facebook.


Email was just strange.

Before the revelation that Nick Fury made a habit of reading SHIELD emails, Steve had used the email address they'd provided him. He sent maybe two emails a day, including replies to messages of note he'd received. Then Tony had set up an email address for Steve, and Steve had been introduced to the world of novelty emails.

Contrary to rumors that Tony had started, Steve actually got most jokes that weren't based on pop culture references. He understood that some people used email as a form of entertainment, but he never felt the need to forward things on, mostly because they had already been sent to everyone he knew.

Steve remembered enough of the periodic table from his high school science class to get the Iron Man joke Pepper had made, but he was surprised to see it again a week later, from Sharon, who'd gotten it from a co-worker. Steve had asked Sharon about it, and she told him the Internet had a way of making silly things famous. Which was obvious from the number of pictures of cats using horrible spelling and nonsense grammar Steve had seen.

If it wasn't important business, any emails from Tony usually were something intended to be funny. Sometimes Steve got it, sometimes he didn't. But this one made him pause, knowing he was being toyed with, but not sure what to do about it.

Fwd: Zombie Attack

Hey, guys, whoever's with Bruce wins!

You are one of the few survivors of an attack of rage zombies. The first item you see to your left is your primary weapon. The first item you see to your right is your secondary weapon. The last person you talked to is your companion. How fucked are you? Reply with your results.

I've got a spangly shield (surprisingly strong), Jarvis' tablet interface, and Pepper. I'm good.

Good luck,

Tony

Steve was pretty sure Tony was trying to mess with him, but he felt a surge of possessiveness anyway. Tony had borrowed his shield that morning to run tests on it, and while Steve knew Tony wouldn't do anything irreparable, he was rather attached to his shield.

Steve Googled "rage zombies," and skimmed the first page of results. Satisfied with the knowledge that they were a monster movie creation, he pondered his response to the email. He wanted to call Tony and check in, but he suspected that was exactly what Tony wanted him to do.

Steve's email dinged at him and he saw Bruce had responded. Pleased, Steve opened the email, hoping to find a helpful clue.

Stark, you'd better start running now, because if the zombies don't get you, the Captain will.

For the record, I have a pen, a view of the New York skyline (lovely), and the editor of a MIT physics journal. If it weren't for the other guy, I'd be pretty well screwed.

Bruce

Steve chuckled appreciatively at the first line, then reviewed the continuation of the joke. He thought he was starting to see how it was supposed to go, but he wasn't entirely confident, so he called Bruce.

"Oh," Bruce murmured, sounding amused. "I keep forgetting that you haven't been properly schooled in memes."

"Memes?" Steve echoed.

"Memes," Bruce said. "Things sometimes strike a whole lot of people as funny, so they send it on. It's called 'going viral.'"

"Like the thing with Pepper." So far, Steve was following.

"Right!" Bruce sounded like the teacher of a particularly bright student, and Steve would have been insulted by that if he didn't know Bruce's mind really was that far ahead of him. "Sometimes, people mimic it and put their own twist on it. That's a meme. There's more out there than you could possibly ever follow, and new ones every day. A lot of them come with instructions, like the one Tony sent out."

"Okay." Steve didn't see the point of the things, but maybe there wasn't one beyond temporary entertainment. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Steve hit "reply all," like he'd been taught to do with emails that needed a reply to go to everyone, and began to type. He had found himself grateful in this century for Mrs. Gilmore's typing lessons when he was younger. Sure, it had been a (now) old-fashioned typewriter, but the idea was similar. Somewhere along the line, Steve had read that typing in all capital letters was supposed to be like yelling, and he deliberately used that to his advantage.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY SHIELD?

I have a sketch pad, my cell phone, and Bruce.

I WIN.

Steve

Steve sent the email, and within moments, he had a response from Tony.

Well played, sir.

Steve smiled, then closed his email and headed upstairs to check on his shield.


In the next installment, Tony decides that waking everyone up with an air raid siren would probably not end well. Thor discovers Stargate. The legendary Steve Rogers meets legend in his own mind Johnny Storm.