The morning after the idiot Hill twins decided to target Anna in Clint's class, they were back in their seats in their classes. They both had enough sense to look slightly chastised, and they'd behaved well so far that morning. Jessica Cage kept rolling her eyes at Carol for staring the pair of them down, but Carol believed the math teacher's willingness not to stalk the boys' behavior was due to ramped-up pregnancy hormones. She'd obviously been compromised into thinking that the boys would be good; Carol not so much.

The boys kept their attention on Jessica's lecture about subtracting fractions with different denominators, but occasionally, their eyes flickered over to watch Carol pace around the room as she redirected her students who were losing focus. She caught the boys' eyes each time and arched an eyebrow at them. They quickly switched their focus back to Jessica, and Carol had to hide a grin.

They changed from math to reading and writing, and Clint was already waiting in the hallway to eye the Hill twins like prey as soon as they hit his classroom door. Good, Carol thought. From the way he'd grunted a response to her greeting this morning, she wasn't sure he was happy with her and would take the boys seriously today. Maybe he and Phil'd just gotten handsy this morning and Clint wasn't properly caffeinated before coming to school.

It was Friday, which meant spelling test day. Carol wouldn't be able to make sure the hellions would keep to their good behavior in Clint's class. She pulled her four kids with individualized education plans—Anna, Brandt, Kallie, and Chris—and walked them down to her closet of a classroom. There, the four students quietly took the spelling tests that Carol had modified before meeting James at the bar last night.

Her brain immediately flashed back to the previous evening and the ease with which being around James so quickly caused the tension and stress of the day to fade. It'd been a while since she'd felt that way about a guy, and the only person she'd admitted that to was Jess Drew. Carol had sworn and bribed her best friend to secrecy about all of it. The last thing Carol needed was for Tony Stark to find out that he was actually decent at matchmaking. At least, this one time.

Carol did not want to have to endure that level of a Stark ego trip. She was fairly certain no one on staff would want to either. That level of obnoxiousness would be too much to bear for even the likes of Pepper or Bruce and might require her to having to dump James, and that was not a viable option. Not with his sense of humor, kindness, skilled fingers—

"You're smiling." Carol looked down, and startled out of her thoughts by the hushed voice, saw Brandt looking around the room. "What are you smiling at?"

Teaching children with extreme ADD was not beneficial to mid-morning daydreams. "Finish your test," Carol said quietly so as not to disrupt the other three more than they already were.

"I'm done," he responded as he held up the paper for her to inspect.

"Then get on the computer and practice subtracting fractions like we learned in Missus Cage's class this morning."

He waved her off, a brash move for a ten-year-old who was one of the shortest kids in the grade, but Carol appreciated his spunk. "I don't need to practice. I'm good." Carol set his spelling test back onto the top of his desk and wrote ¾ - ½ = _ on the paper. "Solve it," she challenged.

Brandt scrunched his face up at the problem as one hand disappeared into his brown curls to scratch his scalp, an obvious tell to Carol that he wasn't sure what the first step should be. He made a few marks on the page before looking back up at her. "Maybe I should go practice on the computer."

"Sounds like a good idea."

Once everyone was finished with their spelling tests, Carol worked with them one-on-one by performing their bi-weekly tests to check their skills at reading out loud, pronouncing words correctly, and how quickly they could read. After the literacy tests were finished and scores recorded in the binder each student had in her classroom—Carol swore half of her job was just paperwork—she reviewed math and reading with each student individually and made sure to log the minutes to file as a report to go with their individualized education plans. Once she made sure that Brandt could do the fractions problem she'd written on the bottom of his spelling test, she checked the clock and saw that it was time to send them back to class so they could go to lunch.

Anna was the last to get her things ready, and her eyes kept flashing over Carol's direction as she made notes in Chris's binder. "Everything okay?" Carol asked without looking up.

The girl pulled something out of her folder and hesitantly held it out to Carol as she walked up to the teacher's desk. It was a piece of construction paper folded in half with the words Thank You written with care on the front. "Grandma and Grandpa always made me write thank you notes when someone did something nice for me. But now I live with my Dad, and he doesn't have any cards I could use, so Mister Rogers let me have some paper."

Carol gently pulled the gift from her student's fingers like the treasure it was. "Thank you, Anna," she said with a smile. The girl's face lit up and she snuck a quick hug around Carol's neck before grabbing her things and darting out of the room.

"Yeah, okay, but are you going to see him tonight?"

Jessica Drew punctuated the question by trying to kick Carol in the kneecap, but Carol dodged and left Jessica swinging her feet in the air. She glared, and Jessica huffed hair out of her eyes before glaring back. Carol'd asked her friend to stop by her classroom after the kids all left for the day to help sort some files that, in april, would move down into storage. She should have guessed Jessica wouldn't actually help.

"Why do you care?" she asked, dumping a few empty folders in the recycling bin. When Jessica, seated on her desk, snorted at her, she rested her hands on her hips. "Last time I dated a guy, you didn't care."

"Okay, first? Last time you dated a guy, Steve Rogers was still teething." Carol rolled her eyes, but Jessica was already ticking reasons off on her fingers. "Second, I had a boyfriend then, which meant I was getting laid. Which meant that I was way too busy getting busy to—"

"Point taken," Carol cut her off.

"Third, your last boyfriend was an assclown. Fourth, he was also a douchenozzle. Fifth, he was also a—"

Carol looked up from her pile of manila folders to shoot her friend a warning look. "Jess."

Jessica, the palm of one hand pulling back the thumb of her other, tossed her head so hard that hair hung back in front of her rolling eyes. "Unless you forgot, he cheated on you. He cheated with a nineteen-year-old stripper—"

"Ballet dancer."

"—named Candi-with-an-I. He is a total douche who deserves exactly none of our boundless goodwill." Carol chuckled, shaking her head, and Jessica scowled at her. "We have boundless goodwill."

"You could fit your goodwill into a thimble."

"And yours into a, I don't know, midget thimble, what's your point?" Carol snapped her head up, and Jessica raised both her hands. "Little person thimble, sorry. Person with little-person-ness? How do you use person-first language on a person who's already a little—"

Carol sighed. "I sometimes don't know why I'm friends with you."

"It's because I buy you alcohol and sometimes pet your cat," Jessica retorted. Carol hid her grin by sorting back through the folders on the floor, but Jessica—like always—wasn't discouraged by a few seconds of silence. "Okay, seriously," she pressed, "you're both obviously super into each other. As far as I can tell, the only reason you're not pulling a Rogers-Barnes weekend lock-in is because you like to pretend to be a grown-up."

When Carol glanced over, it was to discover that Jessica had stolen a piece of gum from her desk drawer and was blowing a bubble. She raised an eyebrow. "Pretend?"

Jessica snapped her gum, waving a hand. "You know what I mean. My point is that you guys seem to have a pretty good thing going, but you're still not willing to do much more than admit it to me—which falls short of admitting it to him." She paused. "Not that I'm the best judge of relationships, what with my mad cultist scientist parents or whatever," she added with a shrug, "but I think they loved each other enough that I can point out something good when I see it."

Carol sighed as she picked up another stack of old files to dump (confidential information removed, of course) into the recycle bin. "It's not—" she started, but Jessica tipped her head to the side. She ran fingers through her hair. "Like I told you the other day, I like him," she finally said, her hands falling back to her hips. "He's good company. We get along great. But after everything I've been through, I'm not sure diving in with puppy-dog eyes and telling him that his biceps are a work of art is the way to go."

"Which is too bad, because I'd love to hear it," a voice chimed in, and Carol nearly leapt out of her skin as she whirled around to see James Rhodes standing in her doorway. He smiled at her, the expression overtaking his face and dancing in his eyes, and she felt her stomach warm immediately. Behind her, Jessica started laughing hard enough she choked on her gum.

James, on the other hand, crossed his arms over his chest. He wore a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his work ID still hanging on a lanyard around his neck. "You were saying?" he prompted.

"Oh, shut up," Carol retorted, and his grin only brightened. She unsubtly flipped Jessica off as she walked to the door and lightly punched him in the bicep. He reached for her wrist, and she stepped immediately out of range. "What are you doing here? And if you say you came to see me, I'm going to remind you that Tony Stark works in this building and there are things he never needs to know."

James laughed. "Don't worry, I'm going to see Tony next." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he shook his head. "Pepper called me by to talk with the grandfather of two students—"

"The Garrisons?" Jessica piped up. Carol twisted over to look at her, but for once, Jessica's maniacal grin was replaced with actual concern. She stopped swinging her legs. "Macy's in my class. They were out for close to a week, popped back up for one day, disappeared again—"

"Yeah, those are the kids," James replied, nodding. "We're trying to figure out what's going on with their mom before we move forward, and Pepper thought the grandfather might have some insights."

"What's going on with their mom is that she sucks," Jessica retorted. She hopped off the desk, spat her gum in the trash, and walked right over to stand in front of James. She crossed her arms over her chest. "And I know crappy mothers, by the way."

Carol let a tiny smile nudge at her mouth as she shook her head at her friend. "James Rhodes, this is Jessica Drew, my—"

"Best friend in the universe," Jessica finished. She offered a hand, and James smiled as he shook it. Better still, he held onto the smile after Jessica narrowed her eyes into unforgiving slivers. "You hurt her, and I will shiv you like we're in an episode of Oz."

"Jessica!"

Carol tried to elbow her friend hard in the ribs, but she deftly stepped out of the way. "I've seen every episode," she added to her warning. "I know how it works."

"I swear to god, Jessica, I will—"

"I'll keep that in mind," James replied, and Carol was grateful to hear laughter in his voice. He only released Jessica's hand when she finally stopped glaring. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Don't do it in the sex closet, that place is like a Dateline health crisis episode waiting to happen." Carol moved to elbow her again, but she jumped away, squeezed between James and the doorjamb, and headed down the hallway. "Be good!" she shouted over her shoulder, and all while James laughed.

Carol rolled her eyes and jabbed him lightly in the stomach. "Don't encourage her," she chided, and if her fingers lingered over his abs for a half-second, so be it. He grinned at her. "She's bad enough without your encouragement."

"Like my biceps are bad enough without you telling me?" he teased, and she snorted at him. He stepped away from the doorframe and closed the distance between them until she could almost feel the heat radiating off his chest. Her hand pressed more fully against his stomach. "Unless that's only part of what you planned on saying once you saw me again."

"You would be so lucky," Carol returned. She tipped her head up, meeting his eyes, and—

"Rhodey, I swear, for a guy who went overseas and liberated countries or whatever it is Marines actually do, you sure get lost in an elementary school pretty— Uh." Tony's voice trailed off from somewhere behind James as Carol, very quickly, slid out of range. By the time she'd made it to her desk, James had turned around to face Tony. He stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and his hair wild like he'd run his fingers through it too many times in the day (pretty likely, knowing him), and for a second, he just stared. Carol forced a smile as she started poking around the paperwork on her desk. "Why are you in Danvers's office?" he asked.

Out of the corner of her eye, Carol spotted the flash of one of James's most charming smiles. She pretended she didn't feel it in her gut. "I wanted to stop by and say hi."

"Say hi," Tony repeated.

"Yes, Tony."

"To Danvers."

"Yes."

"As in Carol Danvers, the woman who you saw a comedy show with and then never again discussed with me because you swore you would—and I quote—light me on fire if I ever set you up on another blind date without your express permission?"

Carol broke her charade of caring about the crap on her desk to roll her eyes. "He was saying a polite hello, Stark," she snapped. Tony turned his frown on her. "People do that."

"I've heard the same," James replied, his grin stupidly dazzling. Carol purposely looked away. "People say polite hellos, Tony."

"Passingly friendly, even," Carol agreed.

"Right. Friendly hellos when you're passing by someone's office."

Silence swept over the room, but when Carol turned in Tony and James's direction (to throw something away, mind you), she realized that Tony was looking between the two of them like he was watching a tennis match. His eyes flicked back and forth for a full ten seconds before he finally heaved a sigh. "You're lying," he declared, his hands falling to his hips. "You're lying, I know you're lying, and I hate you both."

Carol smiled innocently. "We're lying about saying hello?" she asked.

"You're lying about everything," Tony retorted, and then grabbed James by the arm to literally drag him out of the room. His laughter echoed through the hallway even when Carol couldn't see him anymore.

About twenty minutes later, Carol received a text from James that simply read, escaped intact, he believes nothing, will I see you this weekend? She smiled at it for a long time before she replied, if you're lucky and tucked her phone back in her pocket.

And, predictably, when she emerged into the school's front foyer another half-hour after that, Tony was perched on one of the couches there. He rose, immediately crossing his arms over his chest. "If you're dating my best friend, I have a right to know," he said, his tone colder than usual. "It's in the best friend handbook."

She curled her fingers around the strap of her bag. "Is it?"

"A guy has a right to know when another guy he cares about is getting all—" He waved a hand, and Carol cocked her head at him. He sighed. "Look, the only euphemism right now I can cook up is oh captain, my captain! and that feels a little too unpatriotic, even for me."

She laughed. "You have nothing to worry about, Stark," she promised, raising a hand. "It was a friendly hello, nothing—"

"No," he interrupted, pointing a finger at her. "I already did the 'best friend secretly dates a woman I know and doesn't tell me and then gets hurt and then I end up being the insensitive prick because I don't know what woman he's secretly dating' dance once this year. I'm not doing it again." He rolled his lips together. "Rhodey's a good man. He deserves a woman who's not going to walk all over him, or disappoint him, or otherwise make him retreat into his weird 'I will never love again' monk mode." His face hardened. "Don't disappoint him."

Something deep inside of Carol's stomach swam, almost nauseating her, but she ignored and forced a smile at Tony. "It's hard to disappoint someone you're not dating," she replied with a shrug.

"The woman I once not-dated and then married would disagree with you, there," he returned, and then left her standing in the foyer, staring after him, as he walked away.

"Stark crawled under your skin with this boyfriend thing, didn't he?" Jessica needled, twirling a tortilla chip in the air between them, and Carol rolled her eyes. "He gamed you, and now you're sitting here, trying to decide whether you'll actually call your boyfriend your boyfriend—"

"He is not my boyfriend," Carol said for the tenth time.

"—and all because Tony Stark freaked you out." Jessica cackled. "This is great."

"I hate you," Carol muttered, and her friend grinned as she chomped down on her chip.

The bar at the Fuzzy Iguana was crowded and loud, just the same as any other Saturday night. Brassy mariachi-style music blared through the speakers, pumping around them as the bartender—complete with sombrero—mixed massive drinks with tiny umbrellas. They were supposed to be out celebrating Wanda's new job, but of course, everyone else was at least a half-hour behind schedule: Monica'd gotten caught up in some home-improvement project; Ororo had her dance class Saturday nights; Wanda's brother had dropped off his twins unexpectedly; Peter's junker of a car broke down and May needed to rescue him before his girlfriend's overprotective dad got home. The end result left Carol and Jessica alone at the bar, sipping enormous margaritas in stupid flavors like "manic mango."

Said mango was turning Jessica's lips an unhealthy shade of orange. "Call a sexy spade a spade," she said, reaching for the chips again. "Don't let him pull the 'but we weren't exclusive' crap that my last boyfriend—friend-boy?—pulled on me."

"But you weren't exclusive," Carol reminded her.

"Not my point." When Carol sighed and sucked down more frozen margarita through her straw, Jessica poked her in the arm with a long finger. "I saw you two together yesterday, and it was pretty okay. And it was definitely better than any Danvers-and-dude combination I've ever witnessed. The fact that somebody as self-obsessed as Tony has noticed only proves my point."

"Tony just wants to gloat."

"Something he's way more likely to do if the first he time he finds out about you and his buddy is on the wedding invitation." As Carol rolled her eyes again, her cell phone buzzed in her back pocket. She waited a few seconds before reaching for it, just in case Jessica planned on another James-related joke, but her friend had crossed her arms on the bar and buried her face in them. "How is it that you end up with these hot, not-screwed-up guys and I get the emotionally-stunted dudebros?" she lamented. Carol laughed a little as she thumbed past her lock screen and opened the incoming text. "I actively look for a guy and all I get is a night with a battery-operated personal appliance. You fall on a wall of muscles, and—"

Carol's cackle cut Jessica off, and within a single second, the dark haired woman's head snapped up. "What?" she demanded as Carol tried to stop laughing. "Is it the boyfriend? Please do not tell me you are laughing at his sext, because—"

"Just look," Carol wheezed, and shoved her phone at Jessica. Open on the screen were two messages from Clint. The first said kids next door blew up their sister's dolls again and featured a picture of two dark-haired plastic dolls—knock-off Kens, if Carol had to guess—with charred clothes and missing limbs. The follow-up read i made them headstones and included another picture of the dolls, but this time with looseleaf tombstones labeled HILL TWIN 1 and HILL TWIN 2 in Clint's messy handwriting. Just glancing at it made Carol start to laugh again.

Jessica, however, scowled at her. "You guys are the creepiest work-spouses ever," she declared. "I'm going to pee until you—unbreak." She waved her hand, and within seconds, she'd hopped off her stool and disappeared toward the bathroom, leaving behind her unnaturally orange drink and a mess of chip crumbs.

Carol shook her head, opening a text message reply to Clint, but something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Or rather, someone. He stood at a table on the slightly-raised circle of seating outside the bar, slipping off his navy-blue coat. The coat looked familiar, then the cut of his shoulders in a button-down shirt, then—

Carol nearly fell off her stool when the guy pulled off his winter cap. She'd recognize Sitwell's bald head anywhere.

She grinned to herself, abandoning her response to Clint to open up a teasing text to Sitwell himself, when she realized he wasn't alone. A woman stood behind Sitwell, wearing jeans and a loose white blouse, her hair curled around her shoulders. At first, Carol assumed she was a stranger, but then, the woman turned just far enough that Carol could see her face. It was a stern, smug face, one Carol'd glared at long enough and often enough that it was burned into her retinas. As she watched, Sitwell planted his hand on the small of the woman's back and steered her gently into the booth. She smiled at him, leaning in close enough to murmur something, and his fingers lingered as he finally moved to sit across from her.

A blind person couldn't miss the way he offered her his hand once he sat down, or how she smiled again before taking it, and Carol felt her mouth dry out.

Jasper Sitwell, the assistant principal in charge of disciplining shits like the Hill twins, was on a date with Maria Hill.

Carol ducked her head, staring at the empty text message in front of her, and then glanced back at the couple seated at their table. Something Sitwell said made Hill laugh, and they grinned at each other as the waiter came up to take their drink orders. When the couple glanced up, Carol realized she was the last place she wanted to be: right in their direct line of sight.

She swore under her breath, gathered up everything she could—drinks, chips, Jessica's oversized bag—and moved all the way to the other end of the bar. Here, her back was to Sitwell and Hill's table, but she could make them out in one of the many mirrors that lined the restaurant's walls. Mostly.

She reopened her abandoned text to Sitwell. Hey, I had an idea about something, do you have ten minutes to chat? she typed.

In the hazy mirror-distortion, Sitwell frowned and said something to Hill before reaching for his phone. Carol squinted as she watched him type a response. Her own phone buzzed a second later. can it wait until tomorrow? he replied.

Not really, she sent back.

i've got plans with my folks tonight.

Okay, but it's about the incident with Anna.

Carol swore that, mirror or no mirror, she could feel the full force of Sitwell's frown radiating across the room. He stared at his phone, frozen; when Hill said something to him, he quickly shook his head. tomorrow, he replied, and then immediately put his phone back in his pocket.

She stared at the text for a long time before her eyes returned to the reflection in the crappy bar mirror. The couple had resumed their handholding, their conversation picking up with smiles and laughter, and Carol felt her fingers tighten around her phone. Like Barton, Sitwell'd pussy-footed around the Hill twins, convinced that a couple nice parent-teacher meetings might snap them into line. And why not? If standing up to those little shits meant he'd lose his ready access to—

"Are you hiding from me like you're one of Barnes's second-graders?" Jessica demanded suddenly, and Carol snapped her head away from the mirror to find her friend glaring at her, arms crossed. At least, until Jessica's lips twitched into a smile. "Get it? Because at the field trip, Billy—"

"I get it," Carol answered tersely, but she felt her eyes drifting back to the mirror. She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs; even though the angle in the mirror was bad, she could see that Jessica was actively frowning at her. She sighed and dragged her hands through her hair.

Her anger was stupid, she reasoned. It was immature, because Sitwell was allowed to have a personal life.

Even if it was with the mother of the worst demon-children in the fifth grade, kids who tormented her students just to watch them cry, kids who wanted to make like Barton's neighbor-boys and watch the world burn, kids he was supposed to discipline instead of f—

"Carol?" Jessica asked, and Carol jerked her head back in her direction. The concern was plainly written on her face. "Did something happen while I was not texting my ex for an unsuccessful booty call?"

Carol snorted a little laugh. "You want to go to the pool hall?" she asked.

Jessica scowled. "You hate the pool hall. You called it the place where Army rejects go to get punched by women with twice their IQ." She paused. "Or was that the American Legion hall with the BINGO nights?"

"I don't know," Carol admitted, but she slid off her stool anyway. She tossed a couple bills on the bar to cover their drinks and shoved Jessica's purse at her. "I just need to go somewhere where punching people is probably okay."

Jessica grinned. "I'll start texting the crew," she announced, digging out her phone.

Carol glanced at her phone, too, and as they walked out, she opened a text to Clint.

On Monday, we are staging a coup.

She made it to James's house early Sunday afternoon. The plan was to watch some sporting event—basketball, hockey, whatever was on—but that was soon scrapped. The television was still broadcasting a game, but it was ignored first to consume pizza and debate over the best cop movies of all time. Currently the game was losing out to some making out and soon-to-be heavy petting.

Carol was content to lose herself in the contact. She shoved out thoughts of lesson plans, lying vice principals, and hiding from her feelings to just focus on touch and sound. Like how James seemed determined to kiss all the way around her jawline and back, and how whenever her fingernails scratched the nape of his neck, he let made this adorable little gasping noise.

Part of Carol's mind registered the sound of a pair car doors closing, but she was too distracted by James's fingers brushing underneath the hem of her t-shirt to care. The sound was pushed even further from her thoughts when she began to listen to the litany of filthy promises he was humming against her neck.

"Rhodey!" a voice shouted from outside the front door. It was quickly followed by three loud knocks. "I know you're in there! You promised to come out and play."

"Shit," James hissed as he pretty much shoved Carol off of his lap and onto the floor. Normally she would've been livid, but in that moment, she understood the reasoning.

She looked up at his wide, brown eyes and felt her stomach drop. Granted, it felt like that a moment ago, but this was for a different reason. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I double-booked myself," he sighed. "I forgot I was going to go to a car show with Tony and Pepper this afternoon."

"Tell them you're sick," she ordered.

"I can't," he whined with a helpless tone. "I haven't hung out with him since he set us up. He's been begging for the last two weeks." He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "We have to tell him eventually. I know he'll be insufferable, but—"

"Is that Danvers's car?" Tony shouted from the porch. It was followed by a whooping laugh and a moan. Carol knew what the sound effect of Pepper slugging Tony in the arm sounded like.

James looked down at her with an apologetic face. "Want to go to a car show?"

She didn't. But deep down she knew she didn't really have a choice. About the car show, sure, but not about hiding things any longer from one Tony Stark.

"Rhooooodeeeeey," Tony sang. "Put your pants back on and open the door. You have twenty seconds before I start picking the lock."

"No one will be picking locks," Pepper shouted.

Carol heard her friend mutter something at Tony from the other side of the closed door but couldn't quite make out the words. It was probably a threat or five for her husband to behave, not that it would do much good.

James looked down at her as he held out a hand. "You ready for this?"

"Never," she answered as she grabbed hold of his fingers and let him pull her up to standing. "But I think if I sneak out the backdoor, he'll murder us both."

He didn't let go of her hand as he began to walk toward the front door, and she tried to swallow around the warm feelings that gave her. She wasn't entirely successful. James took a deep breath and threw her a wink before pulling the door open.

Carol watched Tony's eyes flicker from their clasped hands to her disheveled hair and swollen lips to James's emotionless face. "Friendly hello, my taut and shapely ass," he greeted.

"Tony," James sighed. "Won't you please come in?"

The man slowly entered the home, Pepper behind him mouthing sorry. Tony stared them both down for a moment with arms crossed over his chest before pointing a finger at James. "You are in some seriously deep shit." The finger slid over to point at Carol before he added, "You scare the hell out of me and could murder me I don't know how many ways, but know that the next time you want me to revive the ancient dinosaur of a computer in your classroom, I'm—"

"Going to deny my kids their right to learn using technology?" Carol finished for him with a tight voice and a raised eyebrow.

Tony swallowed hard and quickly pulled Pepper to stand in front of me. "Shield me from the mean lady."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Knock it off," she muttered. "What he's poorly trying to say is that whatever is happening between the two of you—which is none of our business," she added with a sharp look in her husband's direction, "we're happy for you."

"Still lied to me," Tony pointed out.

James's shoulders slumped. "Look, man, I wasn't trying to hurt you. We just wanted to keep things quiet for a while. I guess we're even now for you tricking us into a blind date."

"A blind date that obviously worked," Tony argued.

"And here we go," Carol sighed. They all looked at her, and she shook her head. "I don't want to deal with your ego, Stark. I don't want to see you dancing up and down the hallways at school doing your I told you so dance."

"I don't have an I told you so dance," Tony replied.

"You have three of them," Pepper muttered.

"Traitor," he grumbled before raising his hands in defeat. "You guys wanted to keep it a secret for a while? Fine. Kind of tired of both of my best friends hiding their girlfriends from me, but both said girlfriends could hand me my ass, so whatever. Who wants to go look at cars?"

"I'll grab our coats," James said.

"And for the record," Tony continued, "this is not a double date. But there will be a double date, and soon. And trying to get out of it will only increase my obnoxiousness."

Pepper and James led the way out to the car, but Tony blocked Carol's path out of the house. "Tony," James warned, "don't start."

"Get in the car, Rhodes. You know she could kill me if she wanted to, it's fine." James shot her an apologetic look before following Pepper to the silver Audi.

Tony looked at her, and she never noticed really just how intense his stare could be—but then again, she'd never really had reason for it to be directed at her. "You remember what I said two days ago, right? How if you hurt him—"

Carol shook her head. "Tony—"

"No, seriously. I've known him forever and I've seen him through some shit, and I won't let that happen to him again."

"I won't let that happen," she promised quietly.

He tilted his head to study her further. "I'd believe you more if you didn't seem so hell bent on denying the fact that you have feelings for him." Without another word, he spun on his heel and made his way to the car, leaving Carol standing in the doorway trying to numb away the sting of his words.

Carol was stopped in Clint's doorway by the sight of him holding out his index finger to her in the universal sign of gimme a sec. "No war planning until I finish this cup of coffee," he told her. "What are we coup-ing about anyway?"

"Sitwell is a traitorous bastard and needs to be dealt with appropriately," she answered.

That brought Clint's head up from his desktop calendar, and he looked at her with confusion on his face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"He's dating the enemy—Maria Hill."

Clint snorted into his coffee. "Are you kidding me?"

"No, and I have the cell phone pictures to prove it." She dug her phone out of her pocket and pulled up the series of images to show him. "If he's dating her, and you refuse to do anything more than give lectures in the hallway, how am I supposed to rely on any adults to help me out with the spawns of Satan?"

Clint shot her an unimpressed look. "Just because you don't believe in my tactics, doesn't mean they aren't effective." Carol rolled her eyes at that. "How was the rest of your weekend?"

She groaned as she sank into one of the seats. "Might as well tell you before Stark pays Darcy off to include it in the announcements." She paused to pick a few cat hairs off of her dress pants. "There's this guy."

Clint's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "A guy? Because I thought the last time you went out on a date you swore you were going to give into Plan B and just les it up with Jess Drew."

"Oh, she's still Plan B, but—"

Clint dissolved into laughter at Carol's hesitation to finish her sentence. "Hold on," he said once he caught his breath, "I have to get Phil down here. This is too good for him to miss."

Carol snatched the phone receiver out of his hand before he could dial the extension for the library. "You're such an ass."

"Wait," Clint said as he got his breathing fully under control. "Why would Tony pay Darcy to make an announcement about it? He catch you on a date like you did to Sitwell?"

"He's the one who set us up." Carol muttered it quickly towards the floor, still incredibly uncomfortable with people finding out that particular part of the story.

"Say that again," Clint requested as he tapped his finger to his ear.

"I said, Tony was the one who set us up."

Carol had to wait a full minute for Clint to compose himself again after he collapsed into the chair behind his desk. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked between gasps. "This is the greatest of all Monday mornings since that one time I woke up with Phil's mouth—"

Carol scrunched up her face and waved her hands in a silent plea for him to never ever finish that story. "It was part of his Secret Santa gift to me—a ticket to a comedy show. What he didn't tell me was that he gave the other ticket to his best friend."

"When was this?"

"The show was about a month ago."

Clint's face slid into something a bit hard and hurt. "And you haven't mentioned him until now?"

"I didn't think—"

"That's right you didn't think. I've known you for years. When was the last time you saw a guy for this long? We're work spouses. We tell each other everything."

"There are times I wish you wouldn't do that," Carol murmured.

"C'mon, you have to give some details. Oh!" he exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. "We can do a double date."

Carol groaned. "I just spent yesterday at a car show with Tony and Pepper, and he made sure to inform me multiple times that it did not count as an official double date and that one needed to happen soon. One that Tony is planning all by himself. It will probably involve food that I don't know how to pronounce."

Clint smirked. "Are we taking bets on how long it will take before he throws out the word orgy?"

"This is what I'm talking about," she said as she threw her hands up in the air. "This is why I didn't want anyone to find out about it."

Clint stared her down with that creepy look that she swore could stare right into the soul of his students. "Sure Tony's the only reason you didn't mention him?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You and feelings—at least ones not related to rage—aren't really the best of friends."

"You're like the seventeenth person to point that out in the last few days."

Clint shoved his hands into his pockets with a shrug. "Plenty of people hide from their emotions. But life's better when you don't."

"It's also fucking terrifying," Carol whispered.

"So are you." The joke brought a ghost of a smile to her lips. "I'm serious about the double date offer," Clint said. "Come over to the house. Unlike whatever idea Tony's cooking up, this won't be anything fancy. I'll grill steaks."

"With that marinade that you won't give anyone the recipe to?"

He grinned. "That's the one. And I'll make pesto mashed potatoes."

"I could eat my weight in those," she replied, her mouth already watering. "Ugh, fine. We'll come over for dinner."

"I just have to give my stamp of approval, that's all. Not that you've cared too much about my opinion lately."

Her shoulders slumped slightly in guilt. "I just don't think hallway pep talks do the trick."

"I hadn't noticed." He leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands on top of the desk. "Look, I care about Anna, too, and it pisses me off when one of my students bullies someone else. But there's obviously a deeper issue going on here, and it's not going to be fixed with one trip to the office."

"Especially not when Sitwell's banging the mom."

Clint cringed. "Don't make me think of him having sex ever again." He swiped a hand over his face to clear the mental image before giving her a soft look. "We okay?"

"Yeah," she answered.

"Good. And if Tony gets too out of control, just go hide in the library. Phil will protect you."

"You okay?" James asked gently, raising his eyebrows.

Carol snorted. "This is just not what I expected from Tony Stark," she replied, and he laughed.

When Tony'd first threatened a proper double-date before the car show—and then reminded her about it after—Carol'd pictured typical Tony Stark fare: a nine-course meal served in a dimly-lit private room and each dish paired with a wine that cost more than her monthly rent. Her panic had only increased when, on Wednesday morning, Tony'd sent out an e-mail that read, 7 p.m. tomorrow night, slinky attire not required but encouraged. She'd texted James immediately and they'd spent most of the day guessing what Thursday night might entail.

"Maybe a helicopter ride," James'd suggested when they'd met up for a drink after work, and Carol'd cocked an eyebrow at him. He'd shrugged. "Three of my birthdays, we went for a helicopter ride. I think he's like one of those small dogs who likes to be up high so he feels tall."

Even though Carol'd laughed so hard that she'd snorted beer out her nose, he'd still kissed her goodnight in the parking lot. Several times.

Needless to say, the last thing Carol'd expected was—

"Can anyone actually recover from a seven-ten split?" Tony demanded, throwing himself into the plastic bowling alley seat between Carol and Pepper. He slung his arms around the both of them and then ignored when Carol smacked his hand away. On Carol's other side, James rolled his eyes and dragged himself up for his turn. "You hear about it from professionals, and I can do it on Wii Bowling—"

"Because that proves anything," James shot back over his shoulder, and Carol grinned at him.

"—but I think it's really all a lie that's fed to us so we'll keep sticking our feet into crappy thirty-year-old shoes and buying overpriced bowling alley beer." He tipped his head over in Carol's direction. "By the way, nice skirt. I didn't think you owned one."

Pepper stopped drinking her overpriced beer to narrow her eyes at him. "Tony."

"I'm not being snide, I'm actually paying her a compliment," he insisted, and Carol rolled her eyes. She also recrossed her legs. She didn't usually wear skirts—she felt conspicuous in them, like a wolf in sheep's clothing—but the slinky attire part of the e-mail'd thrown her off. When she crossed her arms over her chest, though, Tony raised his hands in defense. "They made me promise not to be snide," he promised, and Carol felt her jaw tighten. "I think they were texting behind our backs, Rhodey and Pep. Sort of 'best behavior, no asking about our sex life' kinds of things."

"You can ask, but nobody's going to tell you," James offered as he wandered back to the seating area. Carol raised her eyes to confirm that, yes, he was still beating Tony.

"And I'll never discourage them from texting each other if it keeps you on your best behavior," Carol retorted, leaving Tony to gape at her while a laughing Pepper stood up to bowl.

James settled down next to her, flashing her a grin, and she actually grinned back. All through dinner (at a burger place that Carol'd wanted to try for months) she'd felt off-balance, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Every question Tony asked and every eyebrow he quirked seemed like the gateway drug to intrusive questions she desperately didn't want to answer, and she'd braced herself for impact like she was back in flight training. Instead, though, Tony actually behaved like a normal human being—charming, disarmingly funny, legitimately fun—and Carol felt her nerves start to uncoil. If Tony planned on digging any deeper into her intentions with her friend, he wasn't doing it tonight.

She wondered how much Pepper and James's text message conversation had to do with that.

She stepped up to bowl after Pepper, hitting her first strike in the game, and returned to the horsehoe of seats to find the other couple missing in action. "Bathroom break," James reported as she sat back down. He topped off their plastic cups of beer from the pitcher. "I told them they've got a five minute time limit."

She laughed. "Five minutes is probably twice what Tony needs," she returned, and James covered his mouth to keep from spitting beer. When he swallowed and could laugh, it over took his entire face, warm in the dim bowling alley lights, and Carol threw caution to the wind to grab him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him.

His mouth tasted like hops and spice, familiar and still exhilarating, and for the first couple seconds, she felt like a teenager on her first date, warm from the inside out. She remembered her conversation with Clint about how she never dated a guy this long—she always found some fundamental flaw, some reason to dive in the opposite direction like hiding from gunfire—and instead of it chasing her away, it drove her closer to him. James sighed into her mouth, his hand finding her thigh at the hem of her skirt, and only the knowledge that they were in public kept her from pushing his hand further up her leg.

Jessica'd once sneered at her, "For a pilot, you're pretty afraid of flying."

She finally understood what that meant, right now.

A long, low whistle pulled her out of whatever greedy, kiss-fueled trance she'd fallen into, and when she and James jerked apart, it was to find Tony and Pepper standing over them. Pepper smiled, sheepish and knowing at the same time, but Tony—

Tony cackled, hands on his hips. "I hope you both remember to thank me as both the best man and matchmaker at the upcoming wedding, you sly and horny dogs."

Carol flipped him off as she slid all the way back into her plastic chair, aware that James hadn't quite removed his hand from her leg yet. "The first time I walked in on you and Pepper mauling each other, I didn't start planning the wedding," he commented.

"I'd usually be offended by that, all sputtering and horrible and whatever, but tonight I'm gloating." He pointed a finger at James. "Anthony Edward Rhodes is a great name for your first-born child, you know."

"Never in your life," James replied, and Tony laughed as he headed back up to bowl.

He was still lining up his shot—"Like you'll ever bowl a turkey," James called to him, to which he shot back, "Don't care, gloating"—when Pepper settled into the seat beside Carol. "He'll never admit it, but the closet romantic in him is very happy right now," she said, and both Carol and James turned to look at her. She smiled warmly. "I can't tell you how many times in the last few days I've caught him grinning like the cat who ate the canary."

"I'm pretty sure that's his default expression," Carol replied, shaking her head.

"Maybe," Pepper admitted, "but trust me. It's a good thing."

"Uh, of course it's a good thing, I came up with the idea," Tony announced, flopping back down next to Pepper. "Because if this Rhodey thing hadn't worked out, I would've had to try to hook Danvers up with Bruce, and that would've involved breaking up he and Red—not that I knew he and Red were a thing at the time all these balls started rolling—and—"

"You can stop talking any time now," Carol informed him.

"For my best friend's girl? Anything," Tony replied, and James paused in picking up his bowling ball to offer Carol a long, genuine, heart-stopping smile.