It was another two weeks before Delilah's lawyers and those of the US Attorneys as well as those of SHIELD were able to agree upon a date and time for her settlement conference. The fact the government was referring to it as a plea agreement was immaterial to her since she was not planning to pleading to a damn thing, and her lawyers agreed.
The time spent waiting on the lawyers to sort things out that wasn't spent in trial preparation and strategy was passed in the tower getting to know the housemates now that everyone was home, more or less. Bruce spent most of his time in the lab during the day, and had turned into quite the spades player after dinner. Tony was above such things but not so much that he felt bad running book on the spades games. Meredith was teaching Tasha and Thor to knit, with more or less success. Delilah may or may not have kicked Clint in the shins a couple times, but they both knew he had it coming so it was okay.
Morning was on the chilly side and overcast as Delilah made her way to the federal courthouse where the talks would be held. Clad in her 'bad bitch' armor of a navy sheath dress that fell demurely to her knees and lightly kissed every curve in between, she went with Natasha's suggestion of spectator pumps and matching bag. She may have needed her cane to walk, but she damn sure was catwalk ready. The colors were neutral, her attitude anything but.
Steve had insisted on going with her, even though she knew this would not be a good look for him, PR-wise. Tony muscled his way into the proceedings since it was a) his money paying for her defense (a valid point), and b) because any time he could be a pain in the ass in the fight against federal overreach, he was going to (also a legit reason, if a bit sketchier). The upshot of both tagalongs was getting to see them both suited and booted. Waistcoats had never looked so good.
There were crowds gathered on the steps of the courthouse when the limo pulled up. Carrying signs, chanting, seeing her face on a shirt either for or against was intensely surreal, and all that was before the billowing sea of news cameras and reporters. It was really easy to imagine just ditching the whole proceeding and hiding out for the rest of her life on an island somewhere she didn't even speak the language.
"You're fine, Dee," Steve soothed, petting the back of her hand and gently prying her fingers from around his.
She immediately released her grip and flexed her fingers to ease the stiffness. "Sorry."
He gave her his most confident Captain America smile, the one he gave her the day he'd plucked her from the Hydra situation. It said everything would be okay. Whether or not that was true, she appreciated the support. "We're here with you and whatever happens, it's gonna be okay."
Tony tapped her other hand as he slipped on his ubiquitous shades. "You scorch the leather, you bought the ride, kid."
It took conscious effort, but she loosened her grip on the seat next to her as Tony's driver Happy pulled to a stop. "Sorry," she muttered, doing her best to keep her cool when it felt like the world was pressing in on her. Last thing any of them needed was for her to set the car on fire. Nothing screws up a quick getaway like a torched ride. Even worse if they were inside it.
"No worries, Hot Stuff." He winked at her, immediately transforming from her manic friend the engineer to the greatest showman on Earth. "Okay, kids, showtime." He moved over to exit the car first when Happy opened the door. "Remember," he looked her in the eye before turning to Steve, "do it just like we planned, and we'll be inside and away from all this before you know it."
"Lean on me all you need to, dollface. I've got you," Steve murmured as he followed Tony out of the car. The plan was for them to assist her out of the car and then flank her on her way up the steps, both as a buffer against the crowd but also in the event her legs decided they were no longer onboard with this program.
The noise was intense, immense, pressing in from all sides, her anxiety spiked right off the bat and the sweat was instantaneous as the first tingles of a transformation prickled over her skin. Thankfully, between Tony's 'never stop walking' approach and the awesome power that was the almighty Gaze of Disapproval and Disappointment from Steve, they managed to make it inside without incident.
The moment they cleared the doors, Steve crowded her onto a bench to rest, a handkerchief out for her to blot her face while he sent Tony in search of a bottle of water and to let the lawyers known they'd arrived. Just having him there by her side was enough to help her attenuate some of the strain.
"You're okay. I gotcha," he murmured against her temple as he held her against his side with an arm around her waist. He was protective to the point where she worried about what would people would say about him as she watched the harried faces of the clerks and varying other lawyers that assiduously looked away as they passed them.
Still she was grateful to have him with her. "I'm good, Cap. I promise." Her voice didn't even sound shaky or anything, she noted with pride as she laced her fingers with his.
His smile beamed as he looked down at her. "I know you are, Dee." His blue eyes flickered over here shoulder and she turned to see the mass of people headed their way, led by Tony and her attorney of record, Adèle LeFebvre.
They'd met several times over the course of her case, but encountering her here was eye-opening. Adèle was a force of nature. She should have come with a storm warning, flags, something. Tony referred to her as the legal equivalent of bringing a tank to a knife fight. Her height was the only thing average about her. Defiantly curly long brown hair, delicately angular features in flawless makeup, wearing a white silk suit that cost as much as a car and carrying a handbag and briefcase that cost twice that, she was as gorgeous as she was formidable. Watching grown men recede into the woodwork in front of her was amazing and frequent.
Steve got to his feet as she approached and Delilah did as well, his arm going around her waist automatically. She had her cane, but Steve definitely seemed to prefer her use him if he was available. He greeted Adèle with a kiss on the cheek and murmured something to her in French which made her smile.
"Captain, Delilah," she greeted them, then raised an eyebrow at their closeness, but he merely shrugged. To Delilah she asked, "You ready?"
She nodded as Tony pressed a bottle of water into her hands. "As much as I can be." Cracking open the bottle, she took a long drink and hoped it would quiet the echoing tremors in her stomach.
"Good answer," the lawyer smiled tightly. "Just follow my lead and we will lay waste to these assholes." The cheer in her voice made Delilah and Steve snicker, as Tony beamed.
"That is what I pay you for," he observed as he sipped his own water.
Adèle's smile turned sweet as she faced her employer. "And you pay me so well." Her phone chimed then, and she turned on her heel. "Alright, let's do this." She looked for all the world like a general going in to battle.
The group convened in a conference room on the second floor, which had already been occupied by Fury, Coulson, and several of SHIELD's finest legal minds on the other side of massive oak table. The mediator, an older black man in a sharp grey suit and gold-rimmed half-moon glasses was seated at the head of the table, looking over his paperwork.
The Director narrowed his eyes the moment they entered the room, making a show of looking at his watch "You've learned to tell time, Miss Ford, good for you, or was that your boyfriend's doing?"
"That sharp stick up your ass is going to puncture something vital if you're not careful," she cheerfully replied as she took the seat Steve held out for her. His lips twitched as he patted her arm but he didn't say anything in response. All the SHIELD lawyers suddenly seemed very involved in their paperwork and Phil looked like his tie might be strangling him.
From the head of the table, the mediator cleared his throat as he shook out his handkerchief and wiped the lenses of his glasses. "This is a settlement conference, ladies and gentlemen, so antagonism right out of the gate is good for no one. Why don't you all have a seat?"
Adèle nodded as she took her seat next to Delilah and removed a heavily annotated legal pad from her briefcase. "Yes, your honor."
He looked over a notepad before addressing all present. "I am Judge Jermaine Thompkins, to be addressed as Judge or Your Honor. As this is not a court proceeding, per se, the rules will be a bit less formal today overall, but that one, I will hold you to." He waited until everyone around the table looked him in the eye and acknowledged him before continuing. "I am here today not as a judge but as a disinterested third party here to ensure that this matter is mediated fairly and in the best interest of all parties involved."
Delilah recognized the Assistant US Attorney for the Southern District of New York Kalisa Dawkins from television. Somehow the white woman with the high bun and pinched features in the understated pants suits never looked quite as severe as she did in front of her as she introduced herself to the parties and put forth her first demand.
"The United States government stipulates that Miss Ford register as a mutant."
There were levels of registration, from simply possessing the x-gene, to being classified as a mutant, to finally being considered a 'dangerous mutant.' Long story short, Delilah shook her head briefly.
"No." Her lawyer refused on her behalf and completely agreed with her reasoning.
"No? The whole reason we're here is because she refused to register-"
"A civil infraction for which your officers came to make an unlawful, warrantless arrest for what is ostensibly a ticketable offense-"
"Be that as it may, having her register brings her into compliance with the law-"
"A law that is unjust on its face-"
Toe to toe, the lawyers went for blood straight away and were only separated by the sharp report of a judge's gavel rapping on the table top. "Alright folks, let's dial it back. Miss Ford."
"Your honor?"
"Am I to understand that you refuse to register as a mutant?"
She looked to Adèle, who's only tell was a blink of encouragement. "That is correct, sir."
"On what grounds?"
"Your Honor, if I may, there is no one in this room, heck, in this country, that doesn't know I'm a mutant. The news media and protesters in front of the building make that point pretty clear. I am, de facto, registered, whether I want to be or not. None of this was voluntary."
He nodded, blinking slowly as he took in her points. "I get the impression there's more."
Here was the tricky part. She wasn't going to mention it unless asked directly, per Adèle, but she also knew it needed to be said. Under the table Steve placed a hand of support on her knee. "There is, your honor."
"Would you care to elaborate?"
From the corner of her eye, she could see Steve nod slightly. "Judenstern." In that moment, she had everyone's undivided attention.
There was a reverent whisper behind her and to her left, "Holy shit." Tony's mouth dropped open, but he covered it quickly, eyes wide with impressed shock.
"Repeat that," Fury ordered, his voice low and full of menace.
"I didn't stutter." She squared her shoulders and faced the Director of SHIELD head-on. "First it's just 'we want to know who you are and what you can do' and then it's 'oh, we just want to know where you are', and then suddenly, it's 'because of who you are, you can't do this and that and whatever, and by the way, can you get on this railcar?'" She stopped when Steve flinched next to her, tangling her fingers with his under the table as a kind of calming apology for her vehemence. With a deep breath, she summed up, "I'm a goddamn citizen-sorry, Your Honor-and, um, no. I will not be registering beyond what everyone else in this room knows. I will not wear your black triangle."
All eyes swung back to Fury, whose flushed face around his eye patch lived up to his name. "You think I would-"
"I know you would," she corrected immediately. No one had mentioned his visit to her hospital room to either side's lawyers, but that could be corrected immediately if push came to shove.
"For the record, we do, too. Or do you think we don't hear the stories coming out of Genosha?" Tony inquired, leaning in so his head was between her and Steve's with a vicious grin. He was here for his own pound of flesh apparently. The horrors of the internment camp for mutants had featured several nightly news stories recently and there had been numerous calls for congressional hearings into the matter as well. It was the worst kept secret on the Hill at the moment.
But Tony wasn't finished. "How is General Stryker these days? Has he been disavowed by the government for his crimes against humanity yet? Anything you'd like to discuss about those glorified shock collars he patented with substandard tech in them? The reported deaths on the island? The reports of extraordinary renditions? Experiments on unwilling participants? Don't pretend for one goddamn moment that you being here, instead of the MRA-the agency that Stryker founded specifically to track mutants-has anything to do with your inherent goodness or good intentions. We all know how the road to Hell gets paved."
"You don't know a goddamn thing, Stark. How about you sit the fuck down before your mouth writes a check your ass can't cash," Fury snarled, and the AUSA flinched ever so slightly as the SHIELD lawyers passed her notes.
Sitting back in his chair with a smirk, he adjusted his cufflinks. "I'm a billionaire. I'll take my chances."
At some point in the exchange, Delilah's eyes had grown so large her eyebrows had been annexed by her hairline and her mouth had magnetically attracted her hand. She'd seen his congressional hearings and marvelled, but watching him in person was a bit like watching Frankenstein animate his monster: exhilarating but the sense of impending doom was off the charts.
"Mr. Stark," Judge Thompkins admonished with a restrained frown, "while I appreciate the desire to support your friend, in this proceeding, she is better served by your silence." Turning to the Director, "And in future, Director Fury, please refrain from verbally berating members of the opposing side. It's counterproductive for all involved."
"Giving you the benefit of the doubt, Director Fury-" Adèle ventured into the deafening stillness that followed the Judge's warning.
She was interrupted by his grumpy expression of gratitude. "Thank you, Ms. LeFebvre."
"Cut me off again and I won't be so forgiving," she continued over him without missing a beat. "Just because you would not behave so reprehensibly, what assurances can we have your successor won't?"
"What assurances do we have that your client won't decide to incinerate the Eastern Seaboard on a whim?" AUSA Dawkins fired back just as quickly.
Delilah paused long enough to get a cue from Adele as to how to proceed. When the lawyer nodded, she folded her hands in front of her and took a calming breath. "None, actually. Except for my mother. My momma raised me better." She looked each person seated across the table in the face. Everyone had a mother, so this shouldn't be a hard concept to grasp. "Here's what you all don't appreciate. By thrusting me into this spotlight, you have irreparably harmed her now, too. Her privacy has been removed involuntarily, her safety is now in question. As I'm sure you all know, the fastest way to me is through her. You want assurances that I'll behave? My mother receives a protection detail."
Fury snorted in clear amusement. "In exchange for what? Having all those resources devoted to a little old lady-
"Choose your next words very, very carefully," she warned him softly as Cap slipped a hand onto her knee, either as a show of support or to keep her from going across the table, she didn't know or care. People disparaged her mother at their peril. Even if she didn't go ballistic for it, Steve Rogers would let no momma go unavenged.
Seemingly remembering who he was talking to, Fury held up a conciliatory hand. "Your mother's welfare is not a matter of national security."
"Yet," she finished for him. "What happens next time HYDRA attempts to abduct her? Or some other terrorist group? What then? You honestly think I'm going to wait on local authorities to handle the situation?" Her shoulders jerked with her huff of derisive laughter. Adèle had warned her against making threats, but she wanted to be perfectly clear on this point. "She is the only thing important to me. Everything else in my life is secondary to her health and wellbeing."
"In exchange for what, exactly? Jail time?" AUSA Dawkins' smirk looked it was physically painful to her.
She didn't even dignify that suggestion with a reaction. "I'll become an Avenger."
Delilah could feel Tony's eyes boring into the back of her head, and Steve went deathly still next to her. They'd discussed this, the three of them together and separately, and while there were good and bad points, no official consensus had been reached. It was Fury's smile, though, that slow self-congratulatory smirk, that had her back up.
"Do tell."
"Part time, adjunct even. On call basis only." She almost told him 'like her leg' but she didn't want to answer the questions she knew would arise from that exchange.
He sniffed and flicked away her offer with a wave of his hand. "I'm not interested if you're only doing this to be close to your boyfriend."
She snorted, a spiteful little giggle that started from deep in her chest. "I don't care what you're interested in. Not everything's about you. Besides, I'm not working for you."
"Oh? And how do you propose to be an Avenger and not work for me?" He looked genuinely entertained at the notion.
"I'm gonna work for him."
Phil looked up from the meticulous notes he'd been taking on the proceeding to find Delilah looking directly at him. "I'm sorry?"
"What?" the Director blasted. "You don't just get to decide to join my team and then decide not to work for me. That's not how any of this works."
"What are you doing?" Steve mumbled out of the side of his mouth at her, but she held up a finger. In that moment, Phil's eyes got wide and he picked up his phone, mouthing an excuse to the judge and quietly making a beeline for the hallway.
"Number one, you've proven you can't be trusted. You've shown that you're more interested in being right than ensuring the safety of other people." Sitting in silence, she dared him to contradict her, dared him to speak out about how her arrest had been more important than the HYDRA operatives laying siege to the building. All those people hurt and injured because of him. Hell, if she wanted to be very picky about it, she got shot because of his pigheadedness. "Agent Coulson, however, has demonstrated more than once that the desire to be right and the ability to do the right thing aren't necessarily the same thing."
"And the second part?" Fury asked mildly, still looking amused, but now more wary.
For this one, Adèle stepped in, sliding documents across the desk as she gave him a feral smile. "They're not your team. Given your phenomenal lapses in judgement of late, leadership the Avengers Initiative has temporarily been shifted to Agent Phil Coulson per Acting-Director Hill, pending a review of your work history as well as a fitness for duty inquest." A 'fitness for duty' examination was a multiphase physical, mental, and emotional evaluation to insure competent, sane performance of one's job, in short: a potential death sentence for a SHIELD agent's career.
The lawyer for the government looked immediately suspicious. "What is this I'm looking at? A civil suit?"
Adèle rolled a shoulder, looking more relaxed than she had in the weeks Delilah had known her. "Think of it more as a sacrificial altar if it makes you feel better." She waited until the AUSA flipped the page to tender her offer of, "Unless."
Fury harrumphed and rolled his eye as he crossed his arms. "Unless what?"
"Public apology."
"Oh fuck no," but his absolute rejection of the terms was overshadowed by Tony's immediate howls of mirthful laughter.
"You expect Cyclops here to apologize?"
"I do," Adèle confirmed as she began to subtly began to pack up her belongings. "Doesn't have to be today, but it does have to be in front of God and everybody. Preferably in prime time but I'll leave that up to you, obviously. In the meantime," she turned to the mediator, "I believe we're done here, yes?"
Judge Thompkins looked from Fury who appeared to be boiling in his seat, to the AUSA who appeared to be in dire need an emergency vodka infusion, to finally settle on Phil, who had just made it back into the room, face a bit flushed, quickly shoving his phone into his pocket. "Agent Coulson?"
"We have everything we need, Your Honor." He signalled to the troops to gather their things and go before pausing to whisper to Cap for a moment and then he was out the door again.
A bang of the gavel later, the mediator addressed Delilah. "Miss Ford, it appears you're free to go. Please, for the love of everything holy, stay out of trouble."
She snickered as she nodded, feeling lighter than she had in way too long. "Will do, sir. I promise."
Steve swept her up into his arms, completely uncaring of their audience, burying his face between her neck and shoulder as he squeezed the stuffing out of her. "It's over, Dee." The rest of what he said was muffled by her face buried in his chest but she didn't care, because she was spinning in his arms and free, finally, finally free.
When Steve finally set her back on her feet, she turned to Adèle, who looked like the cat that had rid the neighborhood of canaries. "So what do we do now?"
"Now, I step out and say a few words to the folks waiting out front, since I'm sure the media vultures out front will want some copy for their deadlines. Plus," she ushered them out of the boardroom and in the direction of the emergency exit, "it'll give you a diversion while you make your getaway."
"Already on it," Tony informed them with a smile as he texted away.
Another few minutes and they were down the back stairs, being led by Marshals to the underground garage where Happy was waiting for them. Once ensconced in the limo, Tony reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne and some glasses.
"I know it won't do anything for Cap, and you have pain meds to consider, but a swallow won't kill you and we have shit to celebrate."
With logic like that, she couldn't fault him, and took a small lead crystal cordial glass from him with just over a swallow of effervescent gold in it and passed it over to Steve before she took her own and held it up. "To Tony." When he grimaced and tried to wave off her praise, she poked him with her cane. "I'd still be in jail if not for you, or even worse, HP. You know this."
"Eh," he sniffed, his cheeks colored with the most endearing flush, "I had to help you or Steve would have pined. Nobody wants to deal with Steve pining. Very weepy, emotional. The world is not ready for Captain Emo."
Cap rolled his eyes, breaking out the weapons-grade sarcasm over her snorts of laughter. "Sure, Tony. I'm sure that's exactly what it was. Jackass." Raising his glass to Tony, then to Delilah, he offered his own toast. "To teammates, then, old and new."
Tony raised his glass to that. "And Adèle, because goddamn her bloodletting is a sight to behold."
Steve and Delilah both nodded vehemently and raised the glasses, bringing them together. "To Adèle."
They emerged from the underground garage into the open street outside without incident and she had Tony crack the sunroof for the illusion of fresh air as they headed back home to the Tower. Home, hell, now that the whole mess was all over, she had to figure out what was left of the life before Cap. Her place was likely gone, her job was in limbo, she didn't even know if it was safe for her to sing in public again. Leaning her head against his shoulder with his arm around her she watched the world inch by in heavy traffic and sighed deeply.
"So what changed your mind?" Tony asked as he switched from champagne to scotch. She raised her eyebrow in question but he just smiled into the drink he swirled in his hand. "About the team, Hot Stuff. You're one of us now, apparently."
"Apparently." She looked up at Steve, who pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Honestly, I don't mind helping. I'm not good for much-" She could actually feel the ignition sequence to Steve's objection to that statement as he stiffened beneath her. "Power-wise," she clarified, petting his chest. "I'm not terribly versatile, but what I am is a weapon of last resort, and I'm good with that. You need a pale rider? I'm yours."
Steve settled back down, sliding a hand up and down her arm affectionately. "My best girl, a Horseman of the Apocalypse." The pride in his voice couldn't have been more obvious even as the abject silliness made her shake her head with an indulgent sigh.
"You could do worse," Tony informed him as they rolled through Midtown.
Steve nodded vehemently and squeezed her to his side. "Right?"
"Now the real question." Tony leaned forward and looked so serious her toes curled. She shuddered to think what Tony Stark considered to be 'the real question' arising from all this. "Oprah or Barbara Walters?" Her pinched face of utter confusion only made him giggle. "For your exclusive. Everyone and their mother wants to sit down with you and your publicist-"
"I have a what now? When did I get a publicist?"
He waved off her concern and barreled on like she didn't speak. "Your publicist and I agree those two are probably the best bets for you. So…?" he gestured for her to move it along.
"Hell." She slid in the seat until she was half stretched across Steve, still laying on his chest and her now-bare feet were on the seat next to her. Tony trafficked in mayhem but she also knew he was a man well-schooled in the art of 'spin'. "I mean, Barbara's an SLC alum, so there's that, but man. Oprah!"
Tony nodded like he appreciated her conundrum. "It's a tough call for sure."
They debated the finer points of both women's interviewing style as they parked and headed to the elevators up to the private quarters with no decision made.
Steve, with his arms draped around her waist as he stood behind her, held back a moment as Tony got on and pushed the button to head on up. "You mind if we catch the next one?" He heard Delilah's tiny hum of questioning but ignored it for the moment.
He was already pulling at his cufflinks and loosening his tie when he shook his head. "Suit yourself, Cap. See you upstairs."
The doors slid shut silently, leaving them alone in the basement garage with only the faintest hint of street noise filtering down through the concrete.
"Something on your mind, Cap?" she asked with a smile as she looked up at him over her shoulder. Her smile was like sunshine, completely necessary for every function in life and he reveled in it.
"You're gorgeous, you know that?" He couldn't remember if he told her that before they left for the courthouse, but damn, she took his breath away. Even if he did, she deserved to hear it more.
"You might need glasses, old man," she teased, even as she reached up a hand to softly knead her nails on the back of his neck.
"If I'm an old man, what does that make you?" He asked as he leaned down to nip her neck.
She snorted with the smuggest grin he'd ever seen on her face. "Mathematically? Jailbait."
"Brat." The elevator doors popped open then and she skipped inside, narrowly avoiding the light swat to the ass he'd planned for her. The smile on her face transformed her from the serious woman who'd given Fury no quarter into the joyful, ebullient songstress who'd stolen his heart long before they'd even met.
With the afternoon sun's reflection peeking between the buildings that surrounded them bathing her face in golden light as the elevator slowly ascended she asked, "What's really on your mind, Steve?"
"You." He wound his arms around her again from behind, just relishing the joy of holding her close to him as they took in the sights from the glass capsule.
"Smooth, Cap." She patted his hands where they rested at her waist. "Jarvis?"
"Miss Ford," the AI answers solicitously.
"Can you give us a minute, please?" she asked, looking up absently at the ceiling.
"Of course, ma'am. Privacy mode engaged."
The elevator halted between floors and she turned in his arms, wrapping hers around his waist. "Talk to me." Her dark eyes stared up at him, the open affection on her face always a revelation for him. .
"So, I've been meaning to bring this up to you for a while now," he started, then cringed at how much it sounded like the opening to an easy letdown. A raised eyebrow was her only response. "I... " he sighed. "You have a life, outside of here. One I'm sure you want to get back to now that you're free."
"Right." Delilah nodded cautiously, her eyes never leaving his.
"I mean, I know this place has been kind of a prison for you, so I'm sure you're anxious to get out of here and I don't want you to think that you have to stay-" The rest of what he had to fumble through was muffled by her hand across his mouth with the most serious expression he'd seen since she'd faced down SHIELD.
"Imma stop you right there. Are you throwing me out?"
He yanked her hand down, completely horrified by how badly this had gone off the rails. "Of course not! I want you to stay but I don't want you to feel like you have to or I'm just saying it because you have nothing else or because you think I'm being clingy or-"
She covered his mouth again, then brushed her lips across his when he fell silent. "Lead with that next time," she whispered, her smile so wide he actually got to see her dimples, a rare treat indeed.
"I'm sorry," he whispered as he pressed his lips to her forehead. He couldn't tell if the fine trembling he felt was from her or his own. "I don't mean to keep screwing this up, but I know that you have a life to go back to. I just want you to have a life here, too."
"Okay." She was positively sparkling in happiness. "Jarvis, common floor, please."
"As you wish, ma'am."
He pulled her in close, just enjoying the soft warmth of her in his arms. It was a simple joy he would never, ever tire of. When the doors opened, it was clear the bedlam had started without them.
Thor was seated at the kitchen table in a frilly apron of all things, mixing something in a large silver bowl next to Tony, who had his sleeves rolled up and a stack of silver baking sheets in front of him. Bruce was concentrating hard on whatever he was assaulting with his piping bag filled with icing, and Clint and Tasha were battling it out with wooden spoons while he stuffed his face with a pan full of baked goods.
Balanced precariously on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, the archer was holding his own with some admirable swordsmanship. "My name is Inigo Montoya, you ate my brownie, prepare to die."
"It was just the one, calm down." Natasha then got in close enough to scoop up another bit of gooey chocolatey goodness and stuff it in her mouth. "Now it's two."
Leaning against the sink was Meredith, who was watching the proceedings with a fond smirk as she accepted a mug of coffee from Agent Coulson. Delilah figured she could call him Phil since they were all at home.
"You could be happy here," Steve murmured as he watched the shenanigans with his chin resting on her head and his fingers laced with hers across her stomach.
"I am happy here," she replied, realizing it was entirely true.
"Me too."