*A/N - Okay, I know these are such short chapters but I really wanted to build a sense of friendship or camaraderie before I just shoved them into the whump/protectiveness. So after this chapter things will start to 'heat up' so to speak!
After she swallows a bite of her sandwich, Natasha reads, "What is your favorite family tradition?" Then answers immediately. "Mine is going to the Russian Ballet. Every year they come to New York, and my mom and I save up to buy tickets and go." She watches as Tony wrinkles his nose, but stays quiet. "What, you have something against ballet?" Her tone is sharp, ready to defend her family's tradition.
His eyes widen at her tone, and his hand pauses the cafeteria cheeseburger halfway to his mouth. "What? No! No… I was just thinking the last time my mom asked me to go with her I made up some lame excuse to not go. Makes me realize I should have gone with her." His mouth snaps shut and his cheeks tinge a bit red at the admission. Maybe she wasn't the only one being disarmed by the people in this group.
"My family goes to an archery range the day before Thanksgiving." Clint jumps in, polishing off a bag of chips. "Whoever gets the most points gets to pick what food we eat the next day. I don't know when it started, but… It's a really fun tradition and I get to pick Thanksgiving dinner pretty often."
The subtle brag has Natasha rolling her eyes, but she does smile. Sounds like fun.
The rest of the group is smiling too, Bucky leans forward, ready to speak. "Every year, on whoever's birthday it is, they get to choose an activity. The whole family joins in, and then we always end the day with cake on the roof of our building, looking out at the city."
—-
Clint doesn't miss Steve's wistful smiles as they describe fun family traditions. He watches him as Tony speaks.
"Well, I don't have anything like you guys, but each year, for Christmas, my dad creates something. Maybe it's a robot, or a program, or a device, and he leaves it to me to figure out what he purposefully did wrong. If I figure it out in a certain amount of time, I get to decide where we spend our Christmas vacation. If I don't I have to follow them around wherever they want to go." He wrinkles his nose again but this time there's no real annoyance behind it.
They turn to Steve who Clint can tell is rubbing his palms against his thighs in anxiety.
"Every year, on my birthday, my mom— she— we go up on the roof, and we always eat peach pie, which is my favorite, and bring our little radio to listen to 1940's music while the fireworks go off."
"Fireworks?" Clint asks.
"Yeah, July 4th."
"You were born on July 4th?"
Steve's smile is soft when he responds, "yeah."
"Well excuse us, Mr. America." Tony quips.
Steve laughs but his eyes dip down and Clint can't fathom why.
—
"Alright everybody!" Bruce calls, the microphone enhancing his voice. "Can I have your attention. Whenever you finish your questions, head on over to the Elective board and start the choosing process."
He steps back and watches as the students refocus on their groups.
"Seems to be going well." A voice says at his side. He turns and Dr. Erskine stands beside him, watching the students.
"Yeah, I think so far the group thing is working out." His eyes get drawn towards the table with Tony Stark at it and Erskine catches his look.
"You worry about that table in particular I presume?"
"Wouldn't you?"
"Ah… I can see why you might think so. But I knew Howard Stark when he was young, and if Tony is anything like his father was at that age, he'll be pretty accepting of all walks of life. Not… what do you Americans call it? Uppity?"
Bruce laughs and affirms his word choice. "They just have a kid from every situation." His eyes focus on Steve, who looks tiny compared to the people he sits with. He hears Erskine sigh.
"Yes… I know what you mean. Life can be so unfair to some. But that is why I am glad we were able to find a donor and accept some students on scholarship this year. I know the school board wanted to keep it to just the more prestigious families but…" his eyes trail off and Bruce can see him reliving some memory. "Some of the greatest changes in the world came from people who didn't have a dollar in their pocket."
Bruce nods, "I'm glad too. They deserve to be here."
—
It's driving Bucky crazy. Everytime Steve talks, his face is set forward, but if he's not speaking, then it's tilted to the left. He just can't figure out why. He sips at the bottle of sweet tea his ma had packed for him, running through possible ideas. He turns back to Tony, who is reading the next question. "What is a unique talent you have?"
"Other than the talents that got us accepted here?" Clint asks, clarifying.
"It doesn't say," Tony explains, "but I assume so." This question makes them think for a moment. No one has an answer offhand.
"I can eat really really really spicy things." Clint shrugs, "does that count?"
Bucky huffs out a laugh. "I guess it can count."
"I can pick locks." Natasha says, a smirk on her face. "Like… any lock." Tony's mouth gapes for a moment before settling into a smug grin.
"I'll have to test you on that, Romanoff." She just raises her eyebrow, not afraid of the challenge.
"I can cook." Steve interjects, "is that a unique talent? Probably not, right?"
"For a 14 year old it's a talent." Clint states. Annoyance flashes over Steve's face and he sighs.
"No, I'll think of something else that doesn't relate to age."
Bucky watches as Clint and Natasha share another one of their looks.
"Knife fighting." Bucky admits. When that earns him 4 pairs of questioning eyes he holds up his hands in defense. "Listen, my dad was in the army, and he was a marksman, so when he had me, he started training me early on how to defend myself. I can throw a knife well, but also know how to fight with it in my hand. It's always been a cool thing to know."
"Chess." Steve blurts out, causing the attention to shift back to him. "My ma always said I'm good at chess."
They accept this answer without question and then look to Tony, the last remaining.
"I mean… I'm good at most everything." He says with a smirk.
—-
Steve grabs the paper from Bucky and eyes the next question, prepared to squint and strain his eyes to figure out what it says, but when he looks for his number he finds a clear, legible version written largely underneath it. He looks up in surprise but all of them stare back with no trace of expression on their faces. His breath hitches, he can't decide if he's more embarrassed that someone guessed his eyesight problem, or the fact that they didn't address it and just helped him.
He gulps down a bit of emotion, not having had someone be thoughtful to him like that in a very long time. He clears his throat and reads the next question.
"What's your favorite movie?"
Groans and scoffs have him smiling as they complain about having to pick just one.
But Steve slides the paper back to Clint and spreads his long thin fingers over the surface of the table.
"Mine is Second Hand Lions." He shares. SItting back once he's given his answer.
Tony's face pulls back, "I've never even heard of that movie, and I'm like… a movie connoisseur."
Steve shrugs.
Tony's eyes narrow and he taps his fingers absently at the table. "I'm going to have to watch that one."
"It's great." Steve interjects, "It's definitely like a family friendly movie, but I love it."
—-
Something in the admission has Tony's heart twisting. He glances around at the group. In just the last 20 minutes, he's grown accustomed to the people before him. It's not exactly new, Tony's always been able to be a chameleon around different groups of people, fulfilling whatever idea or previous perception they have of him, but this is different.
Besides Barnes, none of them really had any reaction to him. Which means he didn't have a role to play, which just meant he got to be himself.
As Clint reads the next question, spewing crumbs from a granola bar, Tony eyes the kids around him. Something about the phrase fast friends sticks like glue in his mind.
—