The lightning god eyed his opponent cautiously, as he continued his gaze ahead, watching any subtle changes in positions. This morning's practice was uncalled for since section finals were coming up in the mere matter of weeks. He didn't like how Tony was pushing his limits. If any one of them got injured, it would spell disaster for the school's team.

"I think you're a moron for doing this," he shouted out to his partner, as he tightened his hold on his racquet.

"I've become rusty."

The blond snorted, "Whatever you say," he barked back. "So be it." He swayed in rhythm as he countered the power serve from Tony, and struck with a force that sent the ball swirling back to the other end of the court.

Tony connected with the ball and felt his hand shake against the force, as he tried to counter it with his backhand.

"You better want to let go if you want your swinging arm," he commanded.

"I'm guessing this is your new technique, " his teeth clenched, as he heard the tennis ball scratching against the synthetic mesh.

The blond smirked and began to watch for his partner's next move. "Give up, yet?"

"Psshst…no," his brown eyes narrowed as he increased his backhand. By the minute he realized what was happening, it was too late. The ball never made it over to the other side of the net. "Incredible," he stood in awe for a moment, as he surveyed the damage to his racquet.

Thor stood on the opposite side with a grin slowly appearing on his light features. "What say you on that one?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Alright not bad," Tony wiped the sweat away from his brow line. "We could use some more of that stuff in our tournaments."

"What's the score now?" Thor was already pushing the buttons.

"Now don't get ahead of yourself, Lightning" he scoffed back. He never liked to lose against anybody, but sure as hell, Thor was creaming him in this match.

His loud laugh boomed against the hallow walls of the new gymnasium. Somehow he had acquired the nickname from an opposing team one day during his freshman year, while playing in a rainstorm. Everyone feared him when he launched his power serve in any game. The sound of the ball connecting with his racquet's mesh had the alluring sound of thunder that made anyone nervous. "We're co-captains anyway," he remarked. "We need to help the junior varsity out."

"No shit," he smiled back. "Let's call it quits."

The two walked off the court together and went to their duffle bags. An alarm sounded off from Stark's.

"What on earth is that?" Thor pointed out with his racquet.

"Oh nothing," Tony tried to find the source of the noise.

"Another science project I presume?" His eyes grew wary at what contraption he was building next.

"Sort of," his response was slow, as he found a device the size of a Blackberry phone. "I'm tracking Nat's whereabouts."

"What?" His voice raised in alarm and depth, "but how?"

"Long story short…"

"Why do I not like the sound of this?" He raised his eyebrows as he wondered what crime his partner committed.

"I managed to break into her locker some time ago, and placed a tracer in her gym bag. You know she takes that bag with her pretty much everywhere." He plopped down on the bench and Thor followed, "And you know how she quietly disappeared from the dance…I had to then play some detective work and found out from Steve what was truly going on."

"I should be very afraid of you now," he chuckled.

"I fired up the tracer and found her in South America," as he punched several buttons on the device, "and I decided to send a care package to her with a computer and mobile Internet access."

"What are you getting at Stark?"

"I think after the tournament and finals are over, we can surprise her."

"Oh no, I think we should let her be."

"I think it's a good plan. Robin Hood has been miserable and he's back in Waverly."

Thor glared back at him. "And yes, he has a tracer too…geez. Cut me some slack, will you?"

"You do realize in your delusions of grandeur that we're penniless students?"

"I know," he muttered, "My dad has offered to pay for the trip."

"What?"

Tony started to pick at his shoelaces, "Yeah…it will be great. It'll be our last hurrah before we all graduate."

"Why do I get a feeling we'll owe you in the grand scheme of things?"

"And why do you have question every move I make?" He took a gulp of the Gatorade in his water bottle, "Let's go tell everyone the news."

"Uh no," he paused. "I'll speak to Rogers, while you track down Bruce. I don't want to be caught in the middle of his experiment."

…

She stretched lazily on the hammock, as another day was casted in the early morning in southern Brazil. This time the setting was different. Her green orbs adjusted to the view as the fog danced with the canopy. It was a far cry from what she has witnessed on her current rotation with her parents. The serenity was enough for her. She watched the sun surface above the low-lying clouds and how it illuminated the fog, sending sunlight scattering about. If a heaven did exist, she wished it was here.

She remembered coming to this village about a week ago, as she watched the villagers pool at the main entrance with generations of family members waiting for their arrival. Their eyes filled with despair as they longed for medical treatment. The city was just too far for them and the cost was something they couldn't spare.

The minute everyone stepped off the bus, it was as if any other village. Children scrambled to grab at any treats they offered, while the elderly waited patiently to be seen.

A little girl ran up to her and pulled at her beige short, saying something she didn't understand. "Doce." Her hazel doe eyes looked up at her.

She looked over towards the translator, who was being bombarded with other requests. "It means candy in Portuguese."

The red head pulled out several sweets wrapped in saran wrap, and offered them to the small hand.

She took in a couple of more seconds of the scene and pulled out her camera, taking a snapshot of the simple beauty. Maybe there was a reason she had to be here after all, as if someone else was pulling the strings.

She padded over to her makeshift workstation and powered up her mini computer. Already there was one message waiting in her inbox, and lo and behold, it was from her benefactor. "Tony," she muttered, as her eyes narrowed. Before she could even finish reading the message, there was an alert going off the screen and knew it was from the self-proclaimed genius.

"Aren't you the early bird?"

"The same goes for yourself, Stark. You do realize there is only an hour time difference between us."

"Touché."

"Thank you for the computer though, I do admit I have no clue how you found me," she was short and to the point.

"Elementary, my dear, Natasha. I have my ways."

She looked at him with her familiar death glare. "I know you don't have much time to spare. Here's my play…where will you be in three weeks?"

Her brow furrowed at his strange request. "Back at the main hospital in Sao Paulo. Why?"

"Well I was thinking of having a get together in city?"

She felt the hair of the back of her neck stand on the edge, as her nearly perfect plan wasn't so perfect after all. "Are you joking with me, Stark?"

"No joke. I figured since you can't be here for graduation and stuff, might as well have a last hurrah before everyone does ditch."

"You're working too hard."

"That's what Thor said too. Is it that obvious?" He continued on with the banter, as she gave him the second death glare. "Alright then, it's settled. See you in three weeks."

She sat at her desk and bit the lower part of her lip. Anthony Edward Stark was becoming more of a pest than a friend, and she wondered what grand scheme of his that he was trying to conjure this time. In essence, she only has been gone for five months, not that she was really counting. And in those five months, she has been given the opportunity to see things that so few have seen in their lifetimes.

She resumed her schoolwork, as she typed up the last of her essays for lit class. But her thoughts kept going back to Stark's little plan. She'll have to cross that bridge eventually when it comes to that day. For all she knew, he could be pulling a prank to gauge her reaction, and if there was a candid camera somewhere, it would show her being unproductive, as she became flustered at the thought of seeing the boys again especially Clint.

…

"You want me to do what?" Bruce looked up with his goggles, as he jotted notes down on the carbon copy sheets in his lab notebook.

"You heard me," Stark stood by the lab table, as he watched Bruce conduct his own experiment.

"You know I don't like to fly especially in tight places." He took the thermometer and placed it into the boiling, green liquid that was in an Erlenmeyer flask. "How come I'm always the last one to be informed?"

"Alright point taken. Are you in or out?"

"Gah…this is so last minute." He felt his temper flaring.

"Lets see who else is going" as Tony stroked the bottom of his chin, "mostly the guys. Come on, we're taking about South America…Brazil…white water rafting."

"I don't know about your last selling point…" He pointed a clear, acrylic, stirring rod at him as some liquid droplets fell to the linoleum floor. "I prefer terra firma."

"Well?"

"Fine then, I'm in," he let out a sigh as the liquid combusted right as he took out the thermometer. "You owe me another flask," as he watched the genius walk out the door.

"Hn." He peeked his head back in the doorway, "Maybe you should switch to particle physics."

"Tony, you're no help," he muttered as he tossed his notebook aside along with his goggles.

…

"I must say, Howard, your son has quite the circle of friends," Fury picked up a group photo of them in their winter formal minus two of them that he was already tracking.

"I know he does," the elder Stark offered a glass of brandy to his lifetime friend. "I take things are going well so far. You look like you haven't aged for years."

He let out a soft chuckle, "the serum is working and that is all that matters." He decided to flip the conversation, "We're still looking for several items, but maybe we'll hit the jackpot soon. There's a signal somewhere out west…they narrowed it down to the Mojave." He looked towards the industrialist and billionaire, "How's your project by the way?"

"You know how it is…baby steps. The model is almost completed." He took a sip from his glass and stared out the window. "Tell me friend, how bad is this going to be?"

"Time will tell." The ex-CIA agent downed his own drink, as he felt the liquid burn in the back of his throat. "I already have several of my men working in the field."

Stark eyed the liquid, "How about another round?"

"You've read my mind."

…

Three weeks later…after a dozen finals…and one of the longest tennis matches in the school's history…

….

Phil waited for a response, as he continuously rang the doorbell. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a group of cats cluster at the windowsill, giving him dirty looks for disturbing their afternoon naps. He never did like the furry creatures. Again, the troublemaker of the group hissed at him from the window, and Phil ignored the feline's verbal chatter.

Seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere, he clamored to the back and peeked into another window. Again, it was empty minus a trail of cats scampering to where he stood.

"May I help you with something, Phil?"

The older man stepped off from his vantage point after hearing the familiar voice, "Just the person I was looking for," he adjusted his black suit and tie. "Tony has been looking for you."

"He could've called instead."

"He figured you'd ignore him," he smiled back.

"Hn," his gray eyes narrowed. "What does he want this time?"

"He wants you to gear up."

"Why?" He dropped down his quiver and a temporary bow he bought from the local hunting store. "I don't have to follow his orders."

"You might want to for this one." He realized the teenager wasn't budging, "Don't be difficult, Barton."

"Give me one good damn reason." He crossed his arms across his chest. "The last time Stark sent me out to Manhattan, I didn't know I was going to say goodbye to my best friend. Let alone have a verbal pissing match with another friend to get the info."

"Very well then," he was going to nip the problem in the bud, "he's taking the boys to see Natasha in Sao Paulo and that includes you." He walked over to where the teen stood, "I suggest you don't keep him waiting. We run a tight ship around here."

Clint growled something underneath his breath as he clamored up the steps. "I hate it when he does this." He rummaged through his drawers and closet, packing hastily and shoving random clothes into his duffle bag along with his passport and driver's license.

He wrote a short note to his Grannie and locked up the house again. The cat entourage was waiting by the windowsill, wondering where their human was running off to now. They all looked in awe at the small plane that managed to land in the empty cornfield.

"Glad you could join us, Barton." Tony looked up from his seat with his sunglasses tipped off at his nose.

"A little more warning next time," he seethed.

"I hope you packed your swimming trunks," he winked.

"Shut up, Stark."

The others were situated in their seats, and he nodded to all of them. For a brief moment, he hovered by Steve's seat, but continued on further without saying a word. He settled into the back of the cabin and tossed his duffle to an open seat. If only he had his bow, he would fire a couple of arrows at Tony's back or even strangle him.

"How long is this flight?" Bruce looked up from his laptop, as he analyzed his lab data.

"About 11 hours or so," Tony muttered.

"Oh boy," as he looked back on his screen. "I should've collected more data."

Clint settled into his seat and pulled out his noise, cancelling headphones. He felt his eyelids grow heavier. This better be worth it.

…

A/N: Thanks again for reading and reviewing, I greatly appreciate it. You might see that the story is starting to head off in a different direction. Until next time, take care everyone.