The next morning rolled around with heartache, headaches, and more than one surprise. The only ones to avoid these were Steve and Natasha, which unfortunately left them free to deal with everyone else's problems. It wasn't that they overtly minded assisting their teammates in general (for the most part), however that was not how they wanted to spend their morning...

First off, there was Tony, who was not only suffering from a rather ugly (but not the worst he's ever had) hangover, but the never-leaving-my-bed-again ramifications of his fight with Pepper last night. Pepper was easily just as devastated as Tony, leaving them all to fend for themselves with breakfast as she refused to leave Natasha's room in her current condition. As far as their meals went, none of the team had expected a maid service from Pepper, more than understanding of how she must have felt. If there had been any sympathy for Tony, it was not visible.

Locked away in his room, Tony had JARVIS tell the team that today was just going to be a lazy sunday in the hopes that they would be too busy with their own personal stuff to bother with him. Like a teenager, he was depressed and wanted to sulk. He had tried several times that night to speak with Pepper, but she had taken shelter with Natasha, and Tony wasn't about to have the triple agent involved if he could help it. Knowing her, she would either hold it over his head, or, if she had become close enough with Pepper, she might flat-out try to kill him, and he was far too important to kill. He also wasn't wrong, though it was more because she had been pulled from bed before she had even had the chance to sleep, but either way Natasha still had Tony on her list.

The Living Room (The Main One)

Showing their guests inside, Bruce inviting fellow scientists Erik Selvig and Jane Foster over via e-mail late last night after a possible break, the cautious one had every intention to personally explain to them why he had requested their presence. Selvig had played a pivotal role in the Chitauri War, having been the one person they knew about being possessed by the scepter to actually retain even a portion of his mind (although strictly speaking he was not alone), as well as being a brilliant individual that he had worked with in the past. Miss Foster was currently leading the way in time-space exploration, and being a friend of Thor's, he knew she could be trusted. What he failed to understand was the inclusion of one Darcy Lewis. While he explained the shape of the situation, the rather unexpected addition to the party followed along, rolling her eyes at the scientific jargon. Noticing this, Jane gently smacked her in the arm.

"Pay attention! This could be important!" She scolded her friend and what could best be described as assistant.

Darcy turned up the volume on her Ipod, a replacement for the one SHIELD confiscated, shrugging at her mentor. That girl...!

Maybe halfway through his speech about the utmost secrecy of this experiment, just outside of the living room and on the way to the elevator to the lab, a certain blonde head poked out to see who Bruce was speaking to. Blue, blue, such an unearthly blue, the moment his eyes fell on Jane, Thor's face lit up, and he had covered the distance between them in as little as four steps. Literally, the doctors had counted it.

"Jane! I had no idea that you would be visiting the House of Stark!" He boomed loud enough for Loki to hear him in his room so many stories up.

She beamed at her physically exquisite boyfriend, chuckling nervously, "Heh, Yeah, I am." She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ears, "Dr. Banner invited us over last night to examine something."

Darcy rolled her eyes as Selvig turned his attention back to his host, "From what I heard at the compound, should you really have brought anyone over yet?" Especially the man that had more-or-less willingly aided in the destruction wrought by (in Stark's words) a tantruming, hormonal diva? For science, Selvig had few regrets, but for the sake of all of those lives, he still carried a heavy sense of shame and remorse.

"Normally, no," Bruce shook his head, "But I think you want to see this..."

Clint's Room

Stretching his bare arms out as he stirred, head pounding from last night, the last thing Clint had expected was to feel another body in bed with his own. But sure as the film over his eyes, there she was; slumbering away with a peacefulness he only dared to dream of, her limbs twisted under head, charred scarlet hair tumbling over key locations, palladium-traced chest rising and falling with every breath she took. Piecing last night together as best as he could (which considering how hammered they got was a heroic effort in and of itself), he recalled the hazy events leading up to this...

Clint's Room, 2:30 - 3:00 A.M.

Drinking roughly half their own body weight in liquor, or the human equivalent without inciting fatal poisoning, wondering out of the bar with a full bottle of vodka in hand, they had somehow or other managed to locate his room, and not without a godly green witness to their drunken progress. Nothing really transpired from the crossing outside of disapproving scowls, which suited everyone just fine at that juncture. Although it severely undermined Clint, it was still rather advantageous for them to be seen...

Smiling crookedly as they fell into the bedroom, Magdalyn fell back against the door once they were both in, her sheer robe momentarily getting caught, tearing as she jerked free, "I haven't drank this much with you since the day I got hired..." She giggled, mind lost to the influence of another, "She really wasn't happy, but you made such a good case..." Her face wrinkled as the trip down her memory lane went on, obviously getting bothered by something, "It was a great gig, and I had a great time working with you, but it was just too hard working at S.H.I.E.L.D. after..."

Her voice cracked, but he was more interested in trying to disrobe this dream Tasha, so her words were ignored, and whatever was heard was later stored away, "Don't talk, Nat... We've been doing so much of that all of these years, but I've never said the words I've really wanted to all of this time-"

"Nat?! You...!" Twisting her head around with demonic speed, she pushed him away, causing him to spill some of the bottle,"Here I am, almost the only woman in your life, and you still talk about her!"

He might have been angry with her for wasting the contents, but anything he might have said was lost as she fell to the floor in tears, wailing incoherent things about her life; things that, had he been in a better frame of mind, he still probably wouldn't have understood. Besides the fact that he was uncharacteristically well beyond his normal point of inebriation (which emotional trauma will sometimes spur on), the Hawk was in no mood nor place to tell if what she was talking about was true or false, and quite frankly, he could care less about anything coming out of her mouth at that moment. It might just have been the booze speaking, but there was only one thing he wanted out of her...

Helping her over to the bed, she wiped away her face after regaining an ounce of composure, blubbering softly, "I'm sorry, but you have to understand how much it hurts me to have to relive this, and it feels like every time is just a fresh reminder of losing you..."

"Magdalyn?" Holding her hands for more selfish reasons than comfort, Barton watched expectantly as she leaned just a little bit closer to him.

Closer and closer she came, practically falling at the end as her face inched towards his own, getting bigger and bigger as it loomed just at the right place to lock lips. Just a little more. Going that extra mile, she was there, and then, she wasn't. At all. Having passed out, Mag had missed his face completely, head hitting the pillow as she fell into a semi-restorative slumber. More than just a little disappointed, he leaned his face close to hears, half debating if should kiss her anyways, but he didn't make it very far before he too had lost consciousness...

Clint's Room, the present

Somehow, he had been expecting to find that there had been an incident involving his knife, body shots, and a pair of handcuffs, but as boring as the truth was, it was a huge breath of relief to him all the same. It wasn't that she wasn't attractive - the young woman was possibly able to pass for Natsaha's daughter as well - he merely had no inclination to make matters complicated without considering all of the consequences first.

"Well, now all that's left is to see what she does." He shook her awake, gently at first, as cautious as he could be of an assult considering her unknown nature, "Wake up! Magdalyn?"

She jumped as if jolted by another one of Natasha's tasers, "I'm up!" Seeing who was by her side, she relaxed, laying her head back down on his shoulder, "Please tell me we don't have work today. They can get so annoying, especially after we have a relapse... If I wasn't in such a bad way," She winked at him, obviously forgetting that she was in the past, "We could have some fun today. A late breakfast, maybe some training, then if you still have the strength, we could come back to our room and have a little old-fashioned fun."

Was it possible to be hungover and drunk at the same time? He really had to wonder, "You work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Realizing her mistake at last, she jerked up, taking in her surroundings better, hair sweeping gently to remain in place, "Or whatever." She cleared her throat uncomfortably, "But, yes, I did work for S.H.I.E.L.D., briefly. But that was when this was more..." She trailed off, "I mean, I did, but that was when I was in a stable place."

He hoped she meant financially, though considering her alleged family ties, he doubted it, "Do you remember last night?"

"Not really." She shrugged, apparently untroubled by that, or lying, "I remember flashes. And someone named Larry...?"

Not a Larry, but, again, there had been a Loki... But he had had such a small cameo last night, why in the world would she possibly remember seeing the captive? Hmm, he didn't like the odds of the answer to that one bit...

The title "Bring Your Girlfriend to Work Day" was actually inspired by a conversation I had while watching the Avengers for about the millionth time. Anyone know if you can break a DVD by watching it too much? As for the drinking stuff, I've never been hungover before, so I really don't know how one would act in that situation, so sorry if it's inaccurate.