"I can't believe it's December already," Natasha commented as she scooped up another armful of yellowing newspapers and trashy magazines to dump in the garbage. Clint gave her a noncommittal grunt in reply as he handed over a stack of papers. She pulled them to her chest, shaking out another bag to put them in. They were spring cleaning, despite it still being winter. She had grown sick of the mess that had somehow accumulated in her rooms since she had been injured.

There was a knock at the door before it opened and Pepper's head appeared. Her reddish hair had come loose from its tight ponytail, uneven strands straggling into her eyes. She looked somewhat frazzled, as if she was finally reaching the end of her rope. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," Clint answered, just as Natasha gestured and said "Of course."

With a relieved sigh she bustled inside, a clipboard resting in the crook of her arm, pen in hand. She flopped down onto Natasha's grey couch, dumping the clipboard beside her with a groan. The assassins shared a grin, and Clint couldn't help but ask, "Having Tony issues?"

"What?" Pepper opened her eyes. "Oh, no. Tony's been fine. Jarvis and Steve have been keeping him entertained while I've been trying to organise this..." she waved her hand to the clipboard, "...business thing."

Tasha nodded understandingly, throwing another handful of newspaper into the bag. "How have the meetings been going?"

"Oh, fine, fine," The woman nodded, as though she were trying reassure herself more than anything. The spy patted her shoulder gently, trying to offer some form of comfort. Pepper sighed and pulled the clipboard back towards her, placing pen to paper. "I've been meaning to ask, what are the two of your doing for Christmas? Family?"

A look passed between the two before Natasha shook her head, red curls bouncing. She had gotten her hair cut to even it out, so it now rested just at her chin, lighter than ever and coiled up tightly. "We figured we'd just stay here for Christmas. Really the only family each other has."

A note was made down on the clipboard as Clint nodded in agreement. Pepper got up again, straightening her skirt and stretching. "Have either of you seen Bruce? He's not with Tony."

"Not for the past couple of days, no."

Pepper shrugged and thanked them, pulled the clipboard to her chest and left in an orderly fashion. She made her way upstairs, intent on finding the physicist, because this was the third time in as many months he had vanished for a few days before appearing again as though it was all fine. She knew he was naturally introverted and needed some time away from everything sometimes, but he didn't leave the tower in the few days nobody saw him - he just holed himself up in his room. And time off was one thing, but there was something about this that concerned her, so she found herself knocking at his door.

"Bruce? It's Pepper."

There was no reply, but she honestly wasn't expecting one. She tried again.

"Bruce, come on."

Heaving a sigh, she turned and went to walk away when behind her she heard the click of the lock opening. Turning back to face him, she tilted her head and brushed away a strand covering her eyes. Bruce looked...unwell, to put it mildly. There were dark circles under his heavy eyes with his mouth turned down at the corners, his face seeming much more aged than usual. His shoulders seemed to droop and the light shirt he was wearing hung off his body; she hadn't realised how much weight he'd lost in the months since the Chitauri. He took a deep breath and smiled at her. It did quite a bit to help his exhausted appearance, but she couldn't shake the feeling something wasn't right.

"Yeah, Pep?" He asked. He raised an eyebrow when he realised she was staring.

"Are you okay?" She couldn't help but ask. He forced out a laugh and nodded.

"It's just the flu. I'm fine." His gaze dropped to the floor and he shrugged, as if he were saying that it was nothing, he was okay, don't worry about it in the simple gesture. Doubtful, she shrugged and dropped her gaze to the clipboard.

"I just...wanted to know if you had any plans for Christmas? Family or anything?"

"Well, there's my cousin Jenny...Jennifer, but I don't think she'll want me around. I'll just...stay here, if that's okay with you and Tony?"

Pepper wasn't aware she was staring again. She nodded slowly and scribbled something down before looking back up and scanning him. "Are you sure you're okay? Is there anything I can get you?"

He muttered something endearingly dark and sarcastic under his breath and was thankful when she didn't hear him. Implications of one's own death, even when said jokingly, would often lead to giving people the wrong impression. The physicist smiled again and shook his head. "No, Pepper," he tried to sound reassuring, "I'm fine."

"If you're sure." She left him to retreat back into the safety of his room and decided to find Tony with the intent of having a word over the physicist's health. By the time she'd made it down to the labs, however, she was quickly distracted by the squabbling supersoldier and inventor.

The woman coughed into her hand to gain their attention. The argument stopped and Tony gave her a dirty look, as though to say "why did you stop me, things were just getting good." She gave him a glare before turning to Steve and smiling. "Steve, I was just wondering, any plans for Christmas?"

"No, not really. Everyone I know is already dead," Steve didn't relent in his glare towards Tony's smug face. Pepper ignored his sharp tone, shrugged and made a note on the clipboard, making her way back up to the kitchen. It had been a long morning between business and organising things for the holidays, and she just wanted to sit down for ten minutes and have a coffee.

Inside she found Natasha and Clint, apparently having abandoned their mission to clean the apartment. Apparently today everybody was in an argumentative mood, because they too were fighting. Nothing serious, she noted, just your average argument over what to watch on the television. After several minutes of hearing "I'm not watching that stupid fucking cop show, Barton," and "Well excuse me for having a decent taste in television, Romanoff," she walked over, snatched the remote from the two, and turned it onto the news, settling the argument once and for all.

...supposedly accounting for the large amount of narcotics in the area. In related news, a freak electrical storm occurred in Westchester today, hindering several ongoing investigations in the area. Local inhabitants report both high winds and large amounts of lightning with power outages in the area. Are these the beginnings of a hurricane or something more sinister? Find out more at six.

Natasha frowned at the screen before turning to Clint, an eyebrow quirked. "You don't think...?"

"Nah," He said, watching as Pepper seemed to fall asleep on the couch, waiting for her to be unconscious before snagging the remote. "Don't you think Fury would tell us if he was stopping by?"

"What if Fury didn't know?"

As she spoke, a peal of thunder could be heard outside, despite there being no storms forecast for the weather that morning. The two shared disbelieving looks as another rumble sounded before Tasha stood and walked over to the windows, her fingers tracing the edge of the curtains hesitantly. From behind the curtain, several knocks sounded. She visibly jumped, glancing back to Clint. He shrugged and gestured for her to open it. With a dramatic tug, the material was pulled back.

And on the other side of the glass, floating mid-air with Mjolnir in hand and a grin on his face, was Thor Odinson.