Summary: There was potential there, the glimpse of a thought that these extremely independent, highly dangerous individuals could become so much more than just a team – that they could become a family. They just had to survive each other first. Rated for language.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

We Band of Brothers

"You must remember, family is often born of blood, but it doesn't depend on blood. Nor is it exclusive of friendship. Family members can be your best friends, you know. And best friends, whether or not they are related to you, can be your family."

― Trenton Lee Stewart, The Mysterious Benedict Society

…

"The most important thing in life is your family. There are days you love them, and others you don't, but in the end they're the people you always come home to. Sometimes it's the family you're born into, and sometimes it's the one you make for yourself."

― Candice Bergen, Sex and the City

Chapter Ten

Steve had never confirmed nor denied Tony's observation, which simply cemented it as fact for the billionaire. After a few more stammered denials, Steve had declared the conversation to be over and went upstairs to inform the others of Maria's impending arrival. Clint was conspicuously absent from the proceedings, and the assembly ended quickly after the announcement as everyone drifted to their rooms for the night.

Tony, naturally, retreated to his lab to check the gate's security system and deactivate the extra measures for the morning, but was soon distracted by a project for Natasha. It was well past two and his eyes were dry when he finally surfaced to find a drink. The lounge was dark, save for the patio light that trickled in through the glass doors, and he busied himself with a glass of the first bottle he came across.

There was soft noise on the stairs and Tony looked up from the bar as Clint stumbled down, glaring in the billionaire's direction. He grinned. "Red kick you out of bed?"

"Shut up, Stark," the archer mumbled, shuffling into the kitchen. Clint opened the fridge, ignoring Tony, and began rooting around. Tony narrowed his eyes at the slight.

"Spangles has a crush on Hellfire Hill."

Clint stopped dead in his tracks, instantly awake at Tony's casual proclamation. "What?"

"I knew that would get your attention," Tony grinned, slightly giddy. Pouring the contents of his glass down the sink, he continued, "Come on, Katniss. There's better liquor in my lab."

Clint groaned, but closed the door and followed obligingly. "I just wanted a fucking bottle of water."

"Water is overrated. Scotch is amazing," Tony countered, picking his way through the dark house with ease, Clint trailing him effortlessly.

"How do you know he likes her, anyway?"

Tony pivoted mid-step, forcing Clint to hop back. "He told me."

"Bullshit," Clint replied, both brows raised in disbelief.

Tony shrugged, continuing on his way. "Maybe not in so many words, but he does. I know it."

"So, why are you dragging me down to your lab at an ungodly hour to talk to me about it?"

"Because she'll be here tomorrow morning." Clint stilled, and Tony sent him a compassionate gaze. "I don't think he realized what he was doing when he invited her. And, if it makes you feel any better, he was going to call her and tell her no."

Clint shrugged, slipping into the lab after Tony. "Wouldn't really matter. She'd be coming either way. Like Banner said, no point in putting it off."

Tony hummed an agreement and dipped his hand into his desk drawer, finally emerging with a bottle of his favorite scotch. "Unless there was a better option."

Clint shook his head, filching the bottle from Tony and opening it. "There's really not," he admitted, drinking straight from the container. "If I had to pick anyone, it'd be Maria."

"I didn't realize the two of you were such good friends," Tony murmured, accepting the proffered scotch.

Clint snorted, hitching himself onto the workbench. "Yeah, well, that's because you pissed her off so bad she refused to be in the same room as you unless it was a direct order."

"I did nothing," Tony protested, holding his hands out in a gesture of innocence.

"You were you," Clint reminded him with a grin. "That's enough for Maria."

Tony took another drink and gave the bottle back to Clint, dropping into his chair. "Well, she'll have to get over that if she's going to be our liaison."

Clint nodded, shooting the billionaire a look at the conscious use of 'liaison' rather than 'handler.' "She will. If she's going to do something, she does it right."

"Know that from experience?" Tony leaned forward, his expression teasing. "Should Red be worried?"

Clint chuckled. "I am not Maria's type," he said wryly. "She treats me more like her annoying little brother."

"And you don't play that up whatsoever."

The archer shrugged, swallowing a mouthful of scotch and handing it back. "I do what I can."

"She doesn't seem like the happy-go-lucky, have fun, teasing type," Tony offered after a few moments of quiet, spinning the bottle idly on the desk. "Too straight-laced."

"Yeah, well, you don't really know her, do you?" Clint's tone wasn't offensive, but forceful enough to give Tony pause.

"It would seem not," the billionaire softly agreed.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, passing the bottle back and forth until Clint spoke. "She'll need a place to stay."

Tony stared at Clint, one hand outstretched for the scotch. "She has the helicarrier," he said slowly.

Clint raised an eyebrow at him, vaguely sardonic. "Would you have made Phil stay there?"

"Agent has a room here. Don't think that I don't know about that," he replied, pointing a finger at Clint and finally snatching the bottle. "And Agent was different. He liked me."

Clint sighed, shifting to face Tony better. "Don't you want to watch Steve trip around her every, single day? Because I think that would be fucking hilarious."

Tony hesitated for a split second. "That would be pretty funny," he acknowledged. "But is having her here a good idea? Really?"

Clint took a moment to think in the wake of Tony's sudden solemnity. "For as long as I've known her, Maria has been one of Phil's best friends. There was a point in time where it was just the four of us: me and Phil and Nat and Maria. Mine and Nat's allegiance was always to Phil rather than SHIELD. And I think that hers was too."

"Takes a lot to go from SHIELD to Agent," Tony murmured, studiously staring at the garage rather than Clint. "Must have been something huge."

"Not really," Clint offered quietly. "It was just a lot of little things. But they worked." Returning his attention to Tony, he knocked the back of his knuckle against the bottle of scotch. "Think about it."

Hopping lightly off the workbench, Clint quietly left the lab, leaving Tony to silently regard the scotch in his bottle.

At precisely eight fifty-five in the morning, Maria knocked on the door to the newly rechristened Avengers Mansion. Peering carefully at the doorjamb, she could see the faint scratches from the champagne bottle Tony had insisted on breaking in celebration. Smiling lightly, her attention was diverted as she heard footsteps advancing on the door. Standing up straight, she smoothed one errant lock behind her ear and waited.

There was a small scuffle behind the door and she bit her lip, releasing it as the door flung open to reveal Pepper, looking rather disheveled, and Tony, looking somewhat chastened.

Pepper smiled brightly at her. "Welcome to the mansion, Agent Hill," she greeted warmly. Tony let out a grunt of pain when she elbowed him in the ribs. "We're all so glad to see you."

Maria felt her lips tug upwards in a smirk. "I'm sure."

"Please, come in." Pepper stepped back, opening the door further to let Maria slip inside. "Steve almost has breakfast ready. I'm sure that you'll all have details to smooth out after we eat."

Pepper chattered aimlessly as she led Maria through the entry and into the open den that backed up against the kitchen. Maria resolutely ignored Tony's piercing gaze as she followed his assistant-turned-CEO and girlfriend.

Steve was standing at the stove, expertly ladling a spoonful of batter into a skillet. Clint and Natasha waited patiently at the table, each sipping at a mug of coffee. Thor tumbled down the stairs, nodding once in her direction as Bruce slid open the patio door and stepped in.

The scientist smiled shyly at her while he hung his coat on the coat tree. "Good morning, Agent Hill."

The assassins turned at his welcome. Natasha looked far more awake than her partner, which was no surprise, and waved lightly at Maria. Steve glanced over his shoulder and grinned widely, shooting Tony a glare at the latter's sudden snort of laughter.

She smiled a greeting at everyone and slid into the seat beside Natasha. "Good morning, everyone."

The assembled group returned her salutation with murmured "good morning"s of their own, each with various levels of enthusiasm, depending on their owner's state of consciousness. Bruce handed each of them a plate while Pepper passed out the cutlery.

"The rule in this house," Tony announced as he slipped into his seat. "Is that you make yourself at home. Cups are in that cabinet," he said, pointing to one of the doors. "Plates in that one, silverware in that drawer, et cetera."

Maria nodded her understanding and Steve set a plate heaped high with pancakes on the table, Thor following with platters of bacon and eggs. Natasha delicately leaned forward and began piling her plate, signaling Maria that there was no cause for ceremony at the morning meal. Bruce quietly passed her a cup of coffee that she accepted gratefully, and the group tucked into their food.

When everyone had eaten their fill, Clint stood and collected dishes, handing them to Bruce who began to fill the dishwasher. Steve leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table and glancing at the room at large.

"Shall we?"

Maria nodded, glancing over when Clint retook his seat. "There are no papers to sign, nothing that makes this truly official."

"So you can leave when you choose?" Pepper punched Tony's shoulder as Maria bit back on a snippy reply.

"So that you may dismiss me when you choose," she murmured, flicking her eyes towards him and meeting his steely gaze. "This is completely under your control. That was one of the stipulations that Director Fury and I discussed yesterday when I offered for the position."

"How did he take that?" Natasha stood and refilled her cup, bringing the coffee pot back to the table and setting it beside Tony. "He can't have been happy about his first officer voluntarily leaving her post."

"He wasn't," Maria confirmed lightly, sipping at her coffee. "But he soon realized that there wasn't much of a choice."

Bruce chuckled softly. "Would no one else accept us?"

"It seems that you've all required a bit of a reputation," she admitted, smiling slyly. The Avengers shared a laugh at the information.

"So," Steve muttered, drawing the conversation back to him. "Where do we go from here?"

Maria took a drink, simply to gather her thoughts and compose herself, now that she was the center of attention. "There's not really a guidebook for this," she murmured, running her finger along the rim of her cup. "But I think it'd be best for me to get to know you all, as individuals and as a team. That way, I can better advise Fury on how to act when you're all concerned."

Her proclamation was met with silence for a long enough moment that Maria began to worry that she'd misspoken. Eyes gradually turned to Clint, who sat quietly contemplating his coffee. He finally looked up at Natasha's stern nudge and blinked at the attention his quietness had garnered.

"It sounds solid to me," he said, reaching for the coffeepot. He glanced at Tony meaningfully. "She'll need a place to stay."

The billionaire narrowed his eyes, leaning back in his chair with crossed arms. "Helicarrier."

Maria watched with interest as Clint visibly gathered himself. "That's too far for a commute."

"Pep makes that trip every day," Tony replied glibly. "If she can do it, I'm sure a SHIELD Agent should have no problem."

"Tony." Maria raised her eyebrows at the pleading look on Clint's face. Tony wrestled with himself for a moment before he rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Fine." Addressing Maria and ignoring the pointed glances that the others were sending around the table. "There's a spare bedroom upstairs. It should be ready enough for you."

"Thank you," Maria murmured, trying to catch Clint's eye.

The light of Tony's grudging permission, Pepper took charge. "Have you got your luggage here?"

"I did come prepared," Maria admitted. "My bags are in the car."

Natasha frowned. "I didn't hear a car."

"I left it at the end of the drive," Maria admitted. "The gates wouldn't open, so I scaled them."

Steve shot a frown at Tony, who held his hands up innocently. "I got distracted."

"It's fine," Maria assured with slight amusement. "I'll go down and get the car. Security should be up to date by the time I get there, don't you think?"

"It will," Steve murmured firmly. "Would you like some company?"

"I'll be fine on my own, thank you." She rose from the table with a tentative smile, prompting Steve to stand as well. "I'll be back in a bit."

Steve walked her to the door and the two women remaining in the room rounded on Tony with black glares. "It wasn't on purpose, I swear!"

"You go down there and you put her in the system right now," Pepper insisted.

"I'm going, I'm going," Tony mumbled, snatching her coffee cup and taking it with him. As he turned to descend into the labs, he caught sight of Clint silently trailing him. "Are you going to yell at me too?"

"No," the archer replied, nonchalant as they continued down the stairs. "Don't really see the point in it."

"Good," Tony muttered as he plopped into his seat. He pulled up the security protocols on his worktop and fiddled with the code for a few minutes while Clint waited quietly. "Fixed now, anyway."

Clint chuckled at him. "You sound like a baby. Quit whining."

Tony glared at him. "Did you sleep well last night? Because I didn't."

"That's your own fault," Clint informed him. "You're the one that stayed up most of the night in here."

"Because my lab is amazing," Tony swiftly replied. "What is that noise?"

"Huh?" Clint frowned at Tony in momentary confusion.

"That," the billionaire emphasized, waving a hand towards the garage door. "It sounds like Hulk and Thor are having a roaring contest."

Clint was suddenly alert, staring out at the entrance to the garage. When the loud growl paused at the door, Clint turned and slammed a hand into the opener. The door eased open and a battered, gray truck proceeded to rumble down the ramp, the low growl of the muffler intensifying in the confined space. Maria pulled the truck into the open space beside Pepper's Acura and threw it into park. The door hinges creaked loudly in the open garage as she stepped out with a knowing smirk.

"What the fuck is that?" Clint glanced over at the exclamation, raising an eyebrow at Tony's horrified stare. He turned back to the vehicle, inspecting it as he approached.

"My truck," he drawled, as Maria dropped the tailgate and climbed into the bed.

Tony's brows slammed down over his eyes and he stood. "It's hideous. And it's loud. And it smells weird."

"No," Clint told him patiently, reaching out a hand for Maria's luggage. He rolled his eyes minutely as he continued scolding Tony. "That's you. How long have you been down here, again?"

Tony waved a hand. "I was up and out of the lab yesterday. You know that. And the day before, too."

"Did you remember to shower when you were up there?"

"Inconsequential," Tony replied dismissively. He peered down at the truck's bumper, brows raised. "Are those stickers? You have bumper stickers?"

Clint shrugged, accepting Maria's bags and placing them on the ground. "It's not inconsequential if you're smelling that rank. Tasha will drug you on principle this time."

"Spangles would never allow that," Tony told him without a hint of sarcasm. "He's soft. And, seriously?"

"Seriously what?" Clint followed the line of Tony's finger.

"'God bless our soldiers, but especially our snipers'?" The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "That's precious."

"If you like that," Maria interrupted with a smile, dropping lightly from the bed of the truck to the floor. "You'll love the other one."

Tony dropped his gaze to the other side of the bumper and barked out a laugh. "'Don't bother running; you'll only die tired.'"

Clint grinned, a feral edge to the expression. "That one is very fitting."

"Good to know," Tony replied and a slightly uncomfortable silence fell. He raised a brow at Clint. "Aren't you going to escort her upstairs?"

Clint rolled his eyes again, but picked up Maria's bags and started towards the stairs. Maria smiled at Tony as she followed Clint, glancing around her surroundings with concealed interest. The archer pointed out a few things along the way as they traipsed upstairs to the second floor bedrooms.

"Not that one," she heard Steve say suddenly and, as they came up on the landing, they saw Thor confusedly closing the door on their left. Maria glanced over when Clint gave Steve a quick nod, but she ignored the exchange. Steve smiled genially and opened the door on the right. "You can have this one. It's right next to Bruce and there's a nice view of the backyard."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," she assured the soldier, walking in after Clint. The archer had dropped her bags by the door and made himself at home on the bed. She raised an eyebrow at his audacity, but said nothing and peeked out of the window at the backyard. Steve lingered for a moment, making sure that Maria was settled and everything was fine, before he slipped out of the room. Maria softly closed the door behind him and faced Clint. "Something you want to talk about?"

Clint simply stared back at her, and she sighed. "I know it's not ideal."

"Better than last time I had a new handler," he muttered wryly and she grinned.

"Well, that is true," she admitted, taking a seat next to him on the bed. "I promise to listen to you and not get you shot."

"Thanks for that," he said, laughing a little. They both fell silent for a few minutes. "You know that I'd pick you, if I had to."

"I know," she returned lightly. "But you and I would both rather that I wasn't here."

"Yeah." He sighed heavily and dropped his gaze to his clasped hands. "Can't do anything now, though."

"I'll do what I can," she promised. "My loyalty is not to Fury. Hasn't been in a very long time."

"I know," he returned. "Neither has mine."

She chuckled. "Yours never was. And now, it's to this team. Isn't it?"

He quiet for a few moments and she had the fleeting thought that she'd misread him and the situation. "Yeah," he finally murmured. "Yeah, I think it is."

Maria woke slowly the next morning, momentarily disoriented by the soft sheets and the pale lilac of the walls and Natasha's presence in her bedroom. Rising, she pushed the covers back and ran a hand through her hair. "You're lucky that I don't keep a Glock under my pillow like you do," she said by way of greeting.

"I always thought that was a bad habit of yours," the redhead commented idly. "It's almost time for breakfast."

Maria glared lightly at her friend. "I was told last night that meals had no set times."

"They don't," Natasha agreed. "But Steve's done around eight and you'll have to get there before Clint if you want any bacon or biscuits. And there's no cause to impress, so pajamas are acceptable attire."

"Thanks for the warning," Maria groaned as she rolled out of bed. "Let's go then."

Natasha's information was perfectly accurate, as expected, and they arrived to Steve setting the table. He greeted them with a smile.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, reaching back for a handful of silverware. Natasha paused in her pursuit of coffee, glancing from Steve to Maria with veiled interest.

Maria ignored her and nodded. "I did, thank you." Stepping towards the far side of the kitchen, she pointed at a cabinet. "Mugs, right?"

"Right," Steve confirmed, pulling out the pot to fill the two cups she'd removed.

"Wait!"

They turned to face Natasha, Maria with more confusion than Steve. The redhead narrowed her gaze at him and he rolled his eyes, filling the two mugs. "Bruce and I already had ours. Pepper made this pot before she went to force Tony out of the lab."

"Suicide," Natasha muttered, accepting the proffered cup.

Maria smirked at her. "Trying to force Stark out of his lab or drinking Steve's coffee?"

"Both."

"My coffee isn't bad," he protested, pulling a stack of plates from the cabinet.

Natasha snorted, taking a seat. "No, it's just strong as steel. You may as well be chewing the grounds."

"Don't drink Steve's coffee," Maria said. "Got it. Where is Doctor Banner, anyway?"

"Right here," he announced, stepping in from the patio and removing his coat. "You can call me Bruce. We're all going to be working together for a while, I think."

"I'd like to think we are," Maria confirmed with a smile.

"Including out in the field?"

She cocked her head at him quizzically. "It's possible, yes," she admitted.

He took a deep breath. "Then you need to meet Hulk."

Maria shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. "Okay."

Bruce stared at her, seemingly astonished at her indifference. He visibly rallied himself and stepped closer. "I think you may have misheard me," he said delicately.

"I didn't," she replied, shooting Steve a look at his soft chuckle. Setting her mug down, she faced Bruce fully. "I'm just not that concerned about it."

Natasha frowned, leaning forward and sharing a look with Bruce. "Explain."

"If we're going to be honest," Maria began.

"Let's," Bruce interjected lightly.

Maria shot him a look. "You're this concerned just talking about it. That means that the team will be out in full force. You'll probably be flanking me with weapons ready. Why on Earth would I be worried?"

Steve chuckled, turning from the refrigerator. "She has a point," he said wryly, a carton of eggs in hand. "Look how it was when we introduced him to Nat."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I'm just trying to cover all of the bases. The last thing we need is for him to get angry."

"And it's appreciated, Bruce," Maria said. "So let's do this right. How did you handle it last time?"

"Bruce talked to him first."

Maria stared at Bruce after Natasha's comment. "You what?"

"They can communicate," Steve confirmed. "And Hulk is generally aware of what goes on. So, Bruce can talk to him and make sure that he knows what's going to happen when we're all out there. He's not mindless."

"I never said that he was," Maria was quick to point out. Clint lurched into the kitchen, followed by Thor, and slid into a seat. She raised her brows at the archer. "It's nice to know that some things don't change."

"Fuck you," he replied hoarsely, without heat. He squinted at Steve. "Food?"

"It's almost done," Steve assured him. "Here's some coffee in the meantime."

"Thanks." Clint curled himself around the cup that Steve placed in front of him. Looking up, he frowned. "Where did Banner go?"

"I think he's going to talk to Hulk about Maria," Natasha answered, pointing to the patio doors and causing the newest member of the team to glare at her.

"You make me sound like a disease," Maria complained, standing to refill her cup. "That's not nice, Nat."

"What's not nice?" Pepper stepped in from the patio, slipping her coat off and hanging it on the rack. "I just saw Bruce heading out to the garden."

"Nat's being mean to Maria. Everything's normal," Clint muttered. "What were you doing outside?"

"Oh." Pepper accepted a cup of coffee from Steve. "Well, Tony finished Natasha's new gloves and he took them to the range. I was just out there making sure he came inside to eat something and get some rest."

"He's not following you, in case you want to know," Steve told her.

Pepper sighed. "I was worried about that. Thor, do you mind?"

The demi-god looked up at her with wide eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

"Go outside and stand at the range until Tony comes back inside," Pepper requested. "Please."

"Of course," Thor said immediately, standing. "I shall not return without him."

Maria watched Thor go with raised brows and Pepper smiled. "I often find that the threat is a greater deterrent than the actual punishment."

Maria laughed lightly, dropping a spoonful of eggs on her plate. "You've got this down to an art."

"I have had the practice," Pepper reminded her. "And I wanted to talk to you about something. When you're finished, of course."

"Of course," Maria agreed. Tony soon sulked in from the outside, Thor trailing him with amusement, and breakfast continued as usual.

When the plates were cleaned, Pepper motioned to Maria and the two made their way up to Maria's room. The brunette gestured to the desk chair, waiting until Pepper took a seat before she eased herself onto the bed.

"Was there something that you wanted to talk to me about?"

Pepper sighed softly, frowning. "I'm sure that they haven't told you, but you may have seen it on TV. There's been some issues concerning public opinion."

"I've heard." Maria tucked her leg beneath her. "So?"

"Tony gets invitations in the mail all the time for parties and dinners and such," Pepper said, leaning forward. "And I recently got one for the Maria Stark Foundation's annual gala that was addressed to the entire team. I think that they should go."

"Really?" Maria asked dubiously. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I'll admit, they're a little," Pepper flailed for the word. "Ornery. But I really think that they should be getting out there. They're getting ripped apart by some of the politicians looking for reelection."

"And you think that a public appearance or two will help," Maria finished, nodding her head. She mulled Pepper's words for a few minutes. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. Unless, of course, there's an altercation."

"Of course," Pepper muttered darkly.

Having found Maria an agreeable accomplice, Pepper drove them both to New York to discuss the gala away from prying ears and give Bruce a little more time to get Hulk used to the idea of working with Maria. As the days wore on, Clint and Natasha grew more subdued, until one day they disappeared completely.

"Where is Barton?"

Steve looked down from the rafters. "Upstairs?"

Tony glowered at him. "Well, he should be here."

"Why?" Steve looked more amused than Tony thought he had the right to be. "Do you miss him?"

"No," Tony sulked. "But I have work he could be doing. Plug the pronged end into the third socket from the left."

Steve frowned, but did as Tony instructed. "Why, again, are we rewiring your lab?"

"Because I tend to do this twice a year when I go into hardware mode," the billionaire replied, pouring two glasses of water. Steve finished working with the wires and hopped down from the rafters.

"So twice a year," he repeated, accepting the drink with a nod of thanks. "You climb up all the way up there and rewire your lab?"

Tony nodded, making a face at his drink. "Seriously, it's got no flavor. How do you drink this?"

"It's water, Tony," Steve chided. "You're just used to it in ice form, cooling down your scotch." Tony snorted, and Steve grinned back. "Anyway, how did you get all the way up there in California? You don't have a ladder tall enough."

"The Iron Man suit."

Steve stared at Tony for a second, but he didn't appear to be joking. Steve frowned. "You just put the suit on and flew up there."

Tony pretended to think about it. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Why am I not surprised?" Steve murmured to himself. Taking a look around, he sighed. "Would you like me to go find Clint for you?"

"I don't care what you do," Tony replied. "It's his loss and I have no more use for you."

Rolling his eyes fondly at the billionaire, Steve left the lab and ascended the stairs. The first level was conspicuously empty, prompting Steve to take the stairs up to the second. The door to Phil's bedroom was slightly ajar, and he peeked in to find Natasha curled on the bed.

"Everything okay?" She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and he squirmed. "Nat?"

"It's Phil's birthday," she answered him thickly, and Steve understood.

"I see," he murmured. "Do you want some company?"

"I want you to find Clint," she said in reply. "You're a soldier. You'll understand him."

Steve scrutinized her for a moment, finally nodding. "Okay."

She smiled a thank you at him as he stole back into the hallway. Stepping away, Steve glanced up and found Thor looking questioningly at him. "I was not aware that this room was occupied."

'It's the room that Clint and Nat reserved for Phil Coulson," Steve explained quietly. "It's his birthday today, and they're, well, celebrating. In their own way."

"Is she feeling alright?" Steve held his hand out, wiggling it. Thor frowned. "Would she appreciate company? Asgardians have many rituals to celebrate departed comrades."

"I don't know, Thor," Steve answered honestly. "But I guess you can try. I'm going to go find Clint."

Leaving Thor in the hall, Steve headed towards the door that lead to the rooftop terrace when a chilly breeze curled around his ankles. Detouring back into his room for a jacket and a pair of socks, Steve stole into Clint's room and poked his head out of the window.

"Clint?"

The archer closed his eyes, knowing that his solitude had been too good to last. He heard a soft thump as Steve swung himself out onto the roof. Lifting a tequila bottle to his lips, Clint took a long draught as the soldier picked his way over the shingles to his side.

Sitting gingerly down, Steve quietly rested his forearms on his knees and stared out into the night. Clint offered him a drink from the bottle that Steve wordlessly declined. Contemplating the play of the moonlight on the tequila left, Clint began to think aloud.

"Today," he began, pausing to clear his voice when it was hoarse and rough from grief. "Today was Coulson's birthday."

Steve said nothing beside, offering only a steady presence to the archer's pain. Clint gave a little laugh.

"He hated birthdays, especially when people made a fuss. Said that SHIELD agents were supposed to blend in with everyone, to be the wallflowers of the world. Couldn't do that when someone slapped a party hat on your head and sang to you with a dessert lit on fire."

Clint tipped the bottle back as a loud clatter sounded from above them. Steve turned around as Tony slid down the roofline from one of the attic windows, reaching out an arm to steady himself against the former's broad shoulders. Regaining his balance, Tony inched around behind the seated pair and flopped down to Clint's right. Pulling a large flask from his jacket pocket, he clinked the container against Clint's bottle.

"Happy birthday," he murmured, taking a large swig. They sat companionably, the comfortable silence stretching into the night. Steve's sharp hearing could pick out Natasha's soft alto in the mansion as she spun stories to Bruce and Thor, who rumbled back to her ever so often. They were quiet for such a length of time that Clint surprised even himself when he spoke.

"Do you," he paused, licking his lips, and wondered if he was going to regret asking. "Do you still think about Bucky?"

Tony cocked an ear in their direction, turning to glance at Steve when the silence fell again. Clint kept his gaze focused on the dark woods, not daring to look at the soldier. There was another moment's pause, and then Steve's quiet voice filled the air.

"Every day," he murmured. "I don't think there's been a day that's gone by since he died, that I haven't thought about how I could have saved him." He paused, seemingly gathering himself, and dragged a hand across his chin in contemplation. "Sometimes, I find myself glancing over my shoulder to tell him something, like he's still going to be there."

"Yeah," Clint choked out roughly. "Me too."

He took a drink to cover the emotion in his voice, relishing in the burn of the alcohol in his throat. Steve dropped his head, rubbing one hand across his neck as Clint sniffed loudly.

"Does it ever get better?"

"No, it doesn't," Tony said flatly, his gaze fixed on something beyond the sight of either man with him. "It never gets better. You just grow more accustomed to the feeling."

Both men glanced at the billionaire, sure that there was a story behind his statement, but unwilling to push him into explaining. Tony drained the last of his flask and reached a hand out for the rest of Clint's bottle. Taking a large swallow of the tequila, Tony grimaced at the taste and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"His name was Yinsen. I met and forgot him in Switzerland and he saved my life in Afghanistan. And then he died."

"For me" was implied and unspoken.

"So it doesn't matter if it's someone you knew for a few days or someone you knew your whole life. It never gets better."

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Clint took the bottle back from Tony. "Here's to it never getting better," he muttered thickly.

"Tony?" The billionaire groaned, rolling over and burying his face into the pillow. Pepper frowned. "Tony."

He turned his head and cracked one bleary eye. "What?"

"Do you know what month it is?"

Tony paused. "If I say no, are you going to yell at me?"

She sighed, easing herself onto the bed and setting one of the cups of coffee she carried on Tony's bedside table. "No, I won't yell at you. Do you really not know what month it is?"

"This should not surprise you," he said hoarsely, rolling over. "I've been busy."

"Clearly," she murmured. "It's March, and March is when we usually hold the annual benefit."

"Okay," he muttered, reaching over to grasp the coffee on the table. "And?"

"And you've gotten an invitation, like usual, and I think that you should go."

Tony froze, mid-sip. Taking a moment, he swallowed his coffee and turned to her with a raised brow. "Because that ended well last time."

"That is unlikely to be a repeat occurrence," she scolded, ignoring him as he rolled his eyes. "It'll be good for you."

"Why?" His tone was deceptively nonchalant and Pepper sighed.

"Let me clarify. I think it would be good for the team." Her reply garnered his attention, and he shifted to sit up more comfortably, gripping the rim of his coffee cup.

"Again, why?"

She hesitated, glancing down at the cup in her hand. "I think that the team needs some good press," she murmured.

He stared at her for a moment, and then rubbed a hand tiredly across his brow. "Still that bad, huh?"

"Yeah, it's pretty bad," she replied. "Most of the public still holds a high opinion of the Avengers because they think you're cool, but the recovery efforts are still ongoing and that's taking a toll. The insurance companies are dragging their feet, unsurprisingly, and Senators Boynton and Stern are taking every opportunity to disparage the team. People are starting to forget the good that you've done in the face of the bad."

He raised an eyebrow at her in question, smirking lightly. "So, are you asking my permission to reply to this thing, or are you telling me that we're going?"

"Half and half?" she answered, attempting humor. "I just wanted to warn you before I did anything."

"Appreciated." Tony took a drink to cover his grin. "But you're going to have to tell the others."

"You want us to what?"

Tony smirked at Clint's incredulous question. "The correct term is 'schmooze,' Barton. She wants us to schmooze."

Pepper shot the billionaire a slight glare. "Maria and I feel that it would be a good idea for the team get out of the mansion every once in a while and to get some good press while you're at it. The Maria Stark Foundation has an annual benefit each year, and it's coming up soon."

"She means next week," Tony put in helpfully.

Thor stepped forward, gripping his coffee cup. "I am unfamiliar with this term of 'schmooze.' What is its meaning?"

"It means that we're going to go and make nice with people that claim to be important, but have no bearing on us or our lives," Tony answered. Pepper poked him, frowning with irritation, and he sighed. "We will go to a dinner and there will be plenty of time for small talk to discuss business and to make sure that elected officials and the wealthy still like us."

"I see," Thor nodded, his brow furrowed. "We are to wage a war without physical altercation, using only our charms and wits."

"Exactly," Maria replied. "And it's a good idea, too."

Clint glowered at Maria. "Traitor."

"Because the truth of the matter is that it's almost effortless to sway the public into a negative opinion of the Avengers, if the Avengers aren't out there to defend themselves," she offered, ignoring Clint. "People remember that you saved lives out there, but it's also easy for them to forget that fact and become bitter."

"It's been nearly a year," Bruce pointed out. "Why now? Isn't it just going to look like a ploy?"

Maria nodded. "It is, but that's just part of being heroes. It's the same with any celebrity, don't you think, Pepper?"

"Trust me, Bruce, I have forced Tony into this many times," Pepper assured him. "It will look exactly like a ploy, which is why they're called PR stunts. The detractors will point this out, the public will nod sagely at their computer screens, and promptly ignore it, as long as you all are sufficiently charming."

"Well, we're screwed then," Clint muttered, standing and striding to the refrigerator for a drink, ignoring Maria's disapproving glare.

The liaison turned to Natasha. "More than likely, it will be up to Tony, Steve, and you, Nat."

"I can handle that." Natasha shrugged and looked at Steve. "You going to be okay with this?"

The soldier smiled grimly. "Yes. I think I'll be just fine."

Pepper shot Tony a questioning glance that he waved off. "Well," she began instead. "Then I'll make all the arrangements. We'll need a limo."

She began murmuring logistics to herself and Steve gently interrupted her. "Do you need us for this part?"

"No," she answered slowly, her brow wrinkled. "Why?"

"Because we should probably head out then." At her quizzical gaze, he explained, "Hulk is meeting Maria today."

She swept her eyes across the assembled group. "Why is she the only one in uniform?"

"He's used to everyone else now," Bruce explained. "He practically adores Clint."

"I've got a winning personality," the archer offered helpfully. "I'm so close to getting a Hulk ride."

"I do not want to know what that means," Pepper muttered.

Natasha rolled her eyes at Clint's grin. "It just means that he's going to convince Hulk to let him stand on his shoulders while he walks around. Without throwing him into the mountains, of course."

"I can do it," Clint insisted, and Bruce held his hands up for peace.

"How about we get out to the clearing, and then you can discussing riding privileges with him," the scientist suggested, standing.

Steve rose as well, Thor following. "I think that's an excellent plan, Bruce," Steve said. "Let's go."

"Well, what about me?"

Steve turned back to Pepper, his brow furrowed in question. "You said that you had arrangements to make, right? Aren't you going to do that?"

She bit back on a restrained sigh. "I still think that I should acclimate to the Hulk, too."

Bruce shook his head vehemently. "No."

"What if you hulk out when I'm around?" she asked calmly, clearly having her arguments at the ready. "What if it's the middle of a battle? What if I need his help to get out of there?"

"She makes a good point," Tony offered into Bruce's stony silence. Maria glanced between the trio, curious. "No matter how much you don't agree."

"I am aware," Bruce ground out. He rubbed a hand across his face, obviously ill at ease. The room was quiet for a few moments, allowing him the time he needed to weigh the pros and cons of agreeing and to discuss what he could with Hulk. Finally, he raised his eyes and pointed a finger at Tony. "You wear the suit. You wear the suit and you don't leave her side. This is going to be hard enough."

Tony nodded. "If it makes you happy."

"It does," Bruce confirmed. "I'll go on out there."

"I'll come too," Clint offered. "Maybe I can get him in a good mood."

"He doesn't have good moods," Bruce muttered, shouldering his way outside.

Clint shrugged. "A less smashy mood then."

Thor watched the archer jog to catch up and turned to Natasha. "Would you like to join them as well?"

"It'd probably be best," she murmured, slipping her coat off of the hanger. "Let's go."

Pepper let out a tense sigh as the patio door closed behind them, glancing down at herself. "I should change into something warmer," she muttered absently, moving towards the stairs.

Tony watched her go for a moment, his expression inscrutable. Steve gently nudged him towards the labs. "Go get the suit, Tony. We shouldn't take too long."

The billionaire nodded, heading in the opposite direction as Pepper. Maria let out a long breath. "That was a little more tense than I was expecting."

"Bruce is still not on the best of terms with Hulk, no matter how used to us he is," Steve explained softly. "Tony said it was like a nerd and a jock living in the same dorm room. They're never going to get along, but they both realize that they can't torture each other forever."

"Fitting," she commented. Turning to him, she met his gaze frankly. "What do you think?"

"Honestly?" Steve shrugged. "I think Bruce is still afraid of what Hulk can do. And he'd rather be cautious than regret something."

She hummed an agreement, falling quiet as they waited. Tony appeared in the patio window after a few minutes, touching down in the backyard. Pepper soon dashed down the stairs, bundled in a warm coat and thick boots.

"I'm ready," she said breathlessly, her voice only slightly shaky.

"After you." Steve opened the door and motioned the women through.

They heard Hulk long before they reached him and Pepper hugged her arms closer to her torso as she followed behind Maria. Stepping up to the clearing, they finally realized the reason behind the excessive noise.

Clint was grinning wildly, running full tilt at Hulk and darting between his legs as the jade giant tried to catch him with open hands. Thor was seated at the opposite edge of the clearing with a novel dwarfed in one hand, paying no attention to the game of cat and mouse that Clint was playing with Hulk. Natasha stood at the demi-god's side, her arms crossed in fond exasperation as she watched the proceedings with a sharp eye.

"Oh shit!" Clint dove to the ground to escape a swipe from the left and froze as the fingertips of Hulk's right hand dug into the earth around him, forming a verdant cage.

Hulk huffed lowly and Natasha stiffened, causing Thor to momentarily divert his attention from his book. "Won."

Clint burst into laughter. "Yeah, pal, you won." He rose up onto his elbows and his gaze slid over to the quartet in the trees. "The others are here now. You remember I said that we had a couple of people for you to meet today, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, good, because they're ready." Clint nodded towards the group, hooking one hand around Hulk's middle finger and levering himself up. "Steve is going to introduce everyone, okay?"

"Kay." Clint slipped from between his fingers and made his way back to Natasha as Hulk brought his hand back to his side.

Steve stepped forward, waving a greeting. "Hi Hulk. How are you?"

The giant grunted, plopping to the ground with a rattling thud that shook the trees. Pepper jumped involuntarily, her eyes wide. Tony flipped the faceplate up.

"You okay?"

"Mmhmm," she managed, the sound slightly strangled. "I'm fine."

He glanced at her dubiously. "Okay."

"Hulk, this is Maria," Steve called, motioning the agent forward. "She's friends with Bruce and she's going to be spending a lot of time with us."

Maria joined Steve at his side, meeting Hulk's gaze fearlessly. The emerald eyes slid from head to toe, the wheels in his large brain turning. He focused on the emblem on her shoulder and his gaze narrowed, a guttural growl emanating from his throat.

"Hulk," Steve began. "She's our friend. Bruce can tell you that."

Thor rose and moved closer to the clash. Clint ran past him, sliding to a stop in front of an unflinching Maria. "Pal. Maria is a friend of mine, too. And Steve's."

The rumble lessened, but did not cease as Clint and Steve began to alternate their calming commentary.

"It's true," Steve agreed. "She is part of the team now."

"She used to be with SHIELD," Clint admitted, undaunted when Hulk snarled in response. "But Natasha and I were too. You know that, and you like us. We're different now. So is Maria."

"She's our friend," Steve insisted, stepping forward and leaving Maria in Clint's protection. The archer adopted his most earnest expression and Maria carefully mimicked him.

The wait seemed endless, but Hulk finally quieted, eventually chuffing in Maria's direction and averting his gaze to the quiet conflict behind the trio.

"You wanted this." Tony's voice echoed suddenly into the silence. "You begged Bruce to come out here and meet the big guy."

"Maybe I was stupid," Pepper retorted, her voice verging on hysterical. Thor crept silently to Pepper's side, keeping a wary eye as Hulk leaned closer to her. "He's enormous. I'm practically a flea to him."

"Pretty."

Pepper let out an involuntary shriek at his proximity, reaching out for Tony. The billionaire let out an incredulous snort, his eyes sparkling. "What did you call her?"

Hulk eyed him passively and pointed one stubby finger at Pepper. "Pretty."

Pepper gaped at him for a moment, blinking rapidly at the offhanded compliment. Very quickly, her eyes narrowed. "Oh, I am so telling Bruce."

"Tony."

Slipping his safety glasses to the top of his head, Tony finally raised his gaze. Pepper was standing in front of him, hands planted firmly on her hips, with Thor quietly behind her. Tony blinked.

"What?"

She huffed. "I have been calling your name for three minutes."

"Whoops," he said unrepentantly. "Did you need something?"

"What are you doing?" Pepper deflected momentarily. "This does not look comprehensible."

"This is going to be the new implantable commlinks I was talking about," he corrected, leaning back and popping his vertebrae.

Pepper rolled her eyes. "I must have tuned you out."

"That's not nice."

"And yet, somehow, occasionally necessary," she murmured fondly. Thor shifted behind her and she turned, understanding the slight look of confusion on his face. "A commlink is like a very small telephone. The team uses it to talk to each other while they're fighting."

Thor nodded. "Am I to receive one as well?"

"Yes," Tony replied. "No special favors for you. Spangles's orders."

"Very well," Thor murmured. "Is there a limitation to the distance we can use them? Such as how the television remote will not operate the television from the front hall."

"That's kind of the same thing, but not really, and no," Tony answered rapidly. "They'll operate like cell phones, to an extent. Why are you asking?"

"I should not wish to be out of contact when I leave," Thor said simply. "For Asgard."

"I don't know that they'll work that far out, but maybe I can make it happen. It'll take time, though," Tony mused. He frowned suddenly at the demi-god, the conversation shifting with the myriad of thoughts in his brain. "What do you even do here? Bruce thinks you're bored by Earth."

"Of course not," Thor replied, his words immediate and easy. "I have conversations with Steve and with Bruce. The assassins are good company, and excellent at sparring. Occasionally, I am able to leave, to visit Jane Foster."

"You leave?"

"For pity's sake," Pepper muttered, rolling her eyes at Tony's surprise. "You're pathetic."

"I am working," Tony stressed. "And Spangles has been bringing me food for most of a month now, so it's not at all strange that I haven't noticed Point Break's disappearing act. This does not surprise you."

She sighed. "Sadly, it really doesn't."

"So who's Jane?" he asked Thor, curious.

"I met Jane Foster when I was exiled to Earth," Thor explained calmly. "She watches the stars."

"She's a hippie?" Tony clarified dubiously.

"She's an astrophysicist," Pepper corrected with exasperation. "She's been sending you emails, asking for your help, since before Midtown."

"That's who that is," he muttered to himself. "What does she want?"

Pepper arched a brow at him as Thor looked on with interest. "Do you think I read your emails?"

"Yes," Tony replied succinctly. "As I recall, that was one of your original duties in the job description."

"And here I thought I'd been upgraded to CEO of Stark Industries from my humble beginnings as your personal assistant," she murmured.

"Details," Tony retorted. Turning to Thor, he waved a hand. "Tell me more."

"Jane Foster has been working to recreate the Bifrost," Thor replied. "Allow me to show you."

The demi-god picked up one of Bruce's papers and flipped it over to the blank back. Taking the pen that Pepper handed him, he quickly inked out the basics of the Bifrost and what he had discussed with Jane.

"What the hell is that?" Tony questioned after a few minutes, when Thor presented him with the page.

"The rainbow bridge between worlds," the demi-god clarified. "It allows us to travel at great speeds through the stars."

Tony stared at him. "Without gear? Or suits or oxygen systems?"

"There is no need for such items," Thor said with some amusement.

Tony scoffed at him. "How is that possible?"

Thor shrugged. "I am not certain. I am simply telling you what I am aware of."

"If this conversation continues, we're going to have to postpone our suit shopping for tomorrow," Pepper interjected, quietly savoring Tony's stunned silence. The billionaire shook himself from his stupor.

"What?" he glanced between Thor and Pepper, his eyes narrowing as he finally noticed her purse and car keys. "You know, if you keep taking Point Break out like this, I may pretend to get jealous."

"Contain yourself," she muttered dryly. "Thor needs a suit for the benefit, so I was taking him into the city to get one until you waylaid him."

"Not my fault."

She rolled her eyes, hitching her purse higher onto her shoulder. "Does Bruce need to come too?"

Tony stared blankly at her for moment and then glanced down at the notes Thor had sketched out for him. "No," he said slowly. "I'm sure he has something acceptable to wear."

Pepper hummed at him. "Well, let me know if he doesn't."

"Sure thing."

"Come on, Thor," she murmured to the demi-god. "You've given him enough to chew on for at least a week. There's plenty of time for us to get you fitted for a suit."

Gently pulling Thor towards the garage, they left Tony immersed in his new work.

The morning of the benefit had finally arrived and Pepper tapped her foot on the tiles, standing at the base of the stairs as she waited for the others to finish dressing themselves for her inspection. Sighing, she called up to the second floor, "If there's not someone down here in the next five minutes, I am coming up to get you, one by one."

Tony stepped into her line of vision wearing a perfectly tailored tux and an amused smirk. "Do you promise? Should I go back upstairs and wait?"

"Get down here," she threatened. "While I understand that you're usually fashionably late to most of these things, I had hopes for the others."

"That's always dangerous," Natasha murmured, stepping gracefully down the stairs in a stylish evening gown. Clint was at her heels, tugging uncomfortably at the cummerbund of his suit and completely oblivious to the wide-eyed alarm in Pepper's eyes as she stared at him.

"What is that?"

Glancing over at the scandalized look on her face, he peered down at himself and frowned. "My tux.

Pepper made an inarticulate noise. "That looks like what the servers wear at the Sheraton restaurant," she said flatly, to Tony's amusement. "And it doesn't fit well. It's too loose in the stomach and too tight in the shoulders and arms. Take it off."

Clint grinned slyly at her, glance sidelong at Natasha. "Why Pepper, Tasha will be so jealous. And I wouldn't want to make Stark look bad, after all. My abs are legendary."

She glared at him, ignoring his teasing. "You can't wear that."

Bruce suddenly joined them, appearing for all the world as an absent-minded professor. Pepper looked in dismay at the dark khaki pants, the tweed jacket and, "Are those elbow pads?"

"Yes." Bruce blinked at her, and then eyed Clint. "What's wrong with what Clint's wearing?"

"Thank you," Clint replied in exasperation, throwing his arms in the air. "What is wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Pepper stepped closer, oblivious to Clint's grievances as she scrutinized his torso. In a lethally quiet voice, she asked, "Is that a bullet hole?"

Clint shrugged, unfazed. "Probably."

"What the hell, Clint?" Pepper looked horrified.

"It's not that bad," he protested, taking a step back. "You can't even see it if I keep my arm down and you aren't looking!"

She glared at him while Natasha snickered at his back. "If you don't have anything else acceptable to wear, then remove that jacket this instant and let me try to salvage it."

Grumbling under his breath, Clint shucked the jacket and handed it moodily to her. Snatching it from him, she turned and caught sight of the hem of Natasha's dove-gray dress. Her finger shook slightly as she pointed in question at the frayed, clearly torn hem. Clint was grimly pleased to see the redhead flinch slightly in the face of Pepper's wrath.

"Clint was shot," she said hastily. "I needed a tourniquet and the dress didn't need a train that badly."

Pepper's eyes snapped to her face. "Was this the same mission?"

"No?" Her brows dropped at the questioning lilt to Natasha's voice.

Whirling on Clint, she asked, "How many times have you been shot?"

He wrinkled his nose as he started to absently count the scars aloud. When he reached fourteen, Pepper held up a hand. "Never mind. Forget I asked. Come on, Nat. Let's see what we can do about that dress."

As they hurried upstairs with Clint's jacket, Steve walked down in his dress uniform. "Thank God you look alright," Pepper exclaimed. Seeing the look she shot at him, Clint stuck his tongue out at her. She rolled her eyes and dragged Natasha to the bedrooms. "At least you know how to properly dress yourself."

Steve looked at Tony questioningly. "I feel like I missed something."

Tony snorted a laugh, biting back on a smirk. "You don't know the half of it."

Steve paused, clearly weighing his options. "Is it life threatening?"

"No," Clint replied frankly. Steve shook his head.

"Then I don't care."

"Don't care about what?"

Steve turned to answer Maria and froze as she stepped down the stairs in an elegant navy dress. Tony grinned outright at the soldier's hesitation, leaning forward to nudge the younger man's shoulder. Maria raised an eyebrow in question.

"Whatever had Pepper and Nat going back upstairs," he finally stammered out. "You look lovely."

"Thank you," she said sincerely and diverted her attention to the others. Bruce and Clint were standing aimlessly, watching their interaction, and Tony was eyeing the pair with a knowing smirk. Taking a note of Clint in his shirtsleeves, she asked, "Can I assume it has something to do with why Clint is only half dressed?"

The archer snorted. "She's pissed that there are bullet holes in my jacket."

Maria stared at him incredulously. "Why are there bullet holes in your jacket? You've been down here ten minutes."

"I've used it on a couple of missions," Clint answered, shrugging.

"Jesus, Clint, are you joking?"

He threw his hands out. "What? She said it was a benefit and that we needed suits."

"She said black tie, Barton," Maria shot back, struggling to maintain a stern glower over her exasperated amusement.

Bruce glanced at Tony with some concern. "I didn't hear about that."

The billionaire shrugged. "It is, technically, my benefit, and I don't care what you wear. I'm only wearing this monkey suit because she wouldn't let me wear the Mark Forty-Three."

"I'm shocked," Maria muttered dryly as Thor walked down the stairs.

"Where'd you get the suit, big guy?" Clint eyed the slick silver ensemble the demi-god was wearing. "It's pretty classy."

"I think this is why Pepper was unhappy with our outfits," Bruce whispered, tugging nervously at the cuffs of his sleeves.

Clint scoffed. "My tux is fine."

"Pepper and I purchased the garment at the clothing store," Thor replied to Clint's question, smoothing down the necktie. He frowned, twisting this way and that. "It is more constricting than my armor, which does not bode well for the cloth should the need to fight arise."

"There will be no fighting tonight," Pepper announced firmly as she descended in front of Natasha. The hemline of the latter's dress was now perfect, if now only grazing the floor where it had once dragged. "Not on my watch."

Thor smiled charmingly and extended a hand for hers, brushing a kiss across her knuckles, to Tony's obvious disgust. "I would never dream of dishonoring you so."

"Thank you," she said, her eyes darting nervously across the group in front of her, lingering on Bruce, and then Clint as she handed his jacket back.

Tony watched her dither for a moment, and glanced at Bruce's embarrassed fidgeting. He sighed, drawing attention his way, and motioned to Bruce. "Come on, Banner. I think I've got a suit upstairs that'll fit you."

Pepper relaxed slightly, mouthing a thank you to Tony as he led Bruce up the stairs. Maria took note of the exchange and studied Clint for a moment. "Barton, you too."

"Me too, what?" Clint blinked at Maria, his brows raised in question.

She gestured to the stairs. "Get up there and get a better suit. Stark has plenty, I'm sure there's one that will fit you that doesn't have any bullet holes."

"You want me to put on Tony's clothes?" Clint balked.

"Go." She pointed a finger at the stairs.

Clint glared at her. "No."

"Clinton Francis Barton, get your ass up those stairs right now."

"No."

Maria pursed her lips and stepped forward, wrapping one hand around Clint's bicep in a vise grip and dragging him towards the front door. "You are going up there and find another tux to wear."

Clint narrowed his eyes at her. "I -,"

"You are not going to finish that sentence because you are going to do as you're told and make yourself presentable. Treat this as a mission."

"Why?" Clint rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. A ripping sound gave them pause, and they both glanced down at the torn seam on his shoulder. "Besides that."

Maria sighed. "Because this is a public relations event and you need to make a good impression."

"I don't give a flying fuck what people think of me," Clint said staunchly.

"Maybe not, but Pepper does," Maria shot back. "And Phil would, if he were here. It isn't just about you, Clint. It's about everyone else, too."

Clint scowled at her, glancing sidelong at the rest of the team, who were watching their exchange with interest. "I am not wearing Stark's pants."

"Fine." Grasping his arm again, she began dragging him towards the stairs.

He huffed at her, glaring at Steve's smirk of amusement. "I can get up there by myself, you know."

"Indulge me," she quipped. "This way I'll know that you actually changed your jacket. And we can get rid of that eighth grade cummerbund around your waist."

Natasha burst into laughter as Maria manhandled him up the stairs. Clint turned around to glare lightly at her, stepping onto the landing. "Dude, let go."

"No." She shoved him a little harder down the hallway. "I have to make you look presentable, since you can't seem to do it yourself."

"You still sound like a mom," he muttered.

"Zip it, Barton." Tony and Bruce looked up curiously at their entrance, the latter holding a jet black tuxedo. Maria smiled thinly. "Clint here needs a nice jacket and a new shirt, Stark. Mind if I raid your closet?"

"It's all yours." Tony nodded at the open doors as Bruce stepped into the bathroom to change.

Maria left Clint's side to rifle through the suits, tossing him one of the white shirts that hung next to the jackets. He gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled his over his head, taking the cummerbund with it. Sliding his arms through the sleeves, Clint buttoned the new shirt up as Maria glanced over her shoulder at him. Mentally scrutinizing the shade of his pants, she turned back to the closet and hummed. Clint watched her inspect a few coats, finally slipping three of them off of the hangers and holding them out to him.

"Try these."

Clint opened his mouth to protest, but closed it at her quelling glance. Grumbling quietly to himself and ignoring Tony's snort of laughter, he dropped two of the jackets on the bed and pulled the third one on. Holding his arms out, he spun on the spot.

"Can I go now?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Not that one."

"Maria," he whined. "Come on."

She shot him a damning glare. "Change."

He scoffed, but shucked the first coat and picked up the second. Tony raised an eyebrow at the pair. "I had no idea that you were so easily cowed, Barton. I'm almost ashamed."

"Shut up, Stark." Clint tugged on the other jacket, yanking at the lapels. Bruce emerged from the bathroom, glancing hesitantly into the room.

Maria gave him a once over and nodded approvingly. "That's much better than the tweed," she murmured. "Very nice, Bruce."

The scientist smiled, somewhat shyly. "Thanks. Let's hope Pepper agrees."

"She will," Tony put in. "I'll tell her to."

"Like that will work," Clint mumbled as the two scientists left the room. "Is this one fine?"

Maria cocked her head at him and walked over, pulling the hem of the jacket down. "I think it'll work. Make sure Pepper is okay with it."

He frowned at her. "I still say it shouldn't matter."

She sighed at him. "Clint, you know that this is a delicate situation and that impressions are everything. And while, admittedly, I think that it is all a load of shit, it means something to Pepper."

"That's cheating," he complained. "Are you taking lessons from Steve?"

She smirked at him. "Of course not. He could take lesson from me, you know that. Now, come on. Let's go show Pepper."

Nudging him towards the doors, she followed him downstairs. Once Clint joined them, looking somewhat surly, the group fell into a disordered line. Pepper cast a critical eye over her charges. Heaving a tiny sigh, she motioned them towards the front door. "Let's get this over with."

Herding them outside, they piled into the waiting limousine and sat back to enjoy the two and a half hour ride to the Natural History Museum.

"Why are we visiting a museum if we are to attend this gala?" Thor asked as the limo crunched down the drive.

"The benefit is held at the museum so that those who are bored have something to look at," Tony informed him, reaching into the side console for a bottle of scotch. Pepper watched him pour a glass with astonishment that quickly faded into irritation.

"Remember," Pepper admonished, taking Tony's glass from his hands with a glare and chucking the contents out of the window. "No drinks until we've been there for at least an hour. You need to be sober for the pictures."

Tony made a face at her. "I hate pictures."

"I don't care," she replied sternly. Clint choked on a snicker. "You know the rules."

"Rules are made to be broken," Tony reminded her lightly.

She smirked at him. "And couches are made to be slept on. Alone."

"That's fighting dirty," he informed her. "Not okay."

"I'll make a note," she said dryly.

To be continued in Chapter Eleven.