I do not own "The Avengers". Nor most of my schedule, it feels like. My work-ethics as far as breaks are concerned are shared with Tony Stark.

Warnings for implications and a properly evil cliffhanger.

TapTap

It was by no means unusual that Steve visited the workshop. It was widely accepted within the tower that Tony had little or no self-preservation, and even less a clue about taking breaks or eating food. Or sleeping. Steve had many times been tempted to just lift him up and carry him over a shoulder up to his bed, but he knew how many innuendos the engineer would make and so he tried to resist. He might be less of a blushing virgin from the forties, these days, but he was still not quite ready for that.

As a result, someone carrying down plates for Tony and his (exceedingly useful, in so many ways) assistant was common practise, and it was only natural for everyone living in the tower to come down and seek Tony or Clarie out if they wanted something.

Normally, this meant that somebody - often Bucky or Steve - would knock on the door to the workshop and then make their way in, making sure to be noticed as Tony could be unpredictable when startled and Bucky and Natasha had both noted that for all her determination and calm when facing a situation head on, Claire otherwise had a tendency to be a bit jumpy.

Today, Tony had taken a well-deserved nap on a couch, and Dumm-E was whooshing against anyone who made noise, showing off his protective side when it came to his maker. As a result, Steve, who came down to ask Claire about a technical detail he didn't want to bother Bruce with (he seemed to be very busy with something in his lab), wake Tony over, and no one else was available to help with, walked through the space quietly. He didn't think of just how quiet he was, too amused by the robot to consider the silence of a supersoldier, until he put one hand one Claire's shoulder and, without warning, was clawed in the face.

"I am so, so sorry." Smiling back comfortingly, ignoring that it was the fifteenth time at least that Claire had spoken the words, Steve repeated that he was fine and that it had just been a reflex.

"Don't worry about it." He insisted again. "I really am just fine - I don't want to insult you, but you don't hit even remotely hard enough to get me. Please don't worry."

"He'll live," Bruce got involved, checking the scans of Claire's hand and shaking his head. "You were lucky Steve was quick enough to lean back from the punch or you would have broken every bone in your hand. As it is, you'll be fine in a few weeks and you do not need surgery. There is a break, but it is tiny, and more importantly a clean fracture. Not displaced, either, so I'll just stabilize it for you, but no more punching superheroes, please."

"It could have been worse," Tony joked over from his place behind the displays, looking at the same results Bruce had. "She could have punched the Hulk, instead."

"Hulk wouldn't have hurt me!" Claire protested indignantly, clearly upset on her new green friend's behalf.

"No, no," Tony replied, focused on the X-ray image of his adopted god-daughter's dominant hand, "course he wouldn't. However, his face is even harder..."

"How could this happen?" For the second time in a week, Pepper was in a mood to yell at Bruce. This time, fortunately, Claire was sleeping nearby in the Avengers' private hospital bay, and she had to refrain.

"Accident. Steve startled her by mistake and she got spooked. Pepper, it could happen to anybody," Bruce tried to calm her down. "Only difference is that it would be even worse, normally, because only someone with superhuman reflexes could have reacted so quickly and prevented a serious accident. This was not anybody's fault."

Pepper was interrupted before she could respond. "Isn't anybody going to address the huge purple elephant stampeding around the room?" They both looked at Tony, who was staring at his sleeping fellow engineer, friend and apprentice with a hollow expression. "What happened to her to make that her first reaction?"