For thirty seconds nothing more happened, and then gunfire erupted in the hallway, followed by more screams. A crackle of static came through the air.

"On my way sir," Happy rasped. "Smoke bombs here in the garage—"

"What the hell is going on?" Hawkeye wanted to know, crouching at the doorway and eyeing the dark hall. "Robbery of some kind?"

"Petty politics," came a bored purr, "and very inconvenient ones." This came from the dancer, who strode up, her mile-long legs bringing her over to the door in a few steps. "You humans fight so much among yourselves it's hardly worth the trouble to take you on as a whole."

To a man they turned, and she rested her hands on her exquisite hips, fluttering her eyelashes at them.

The penny dropped.

"Brrrrrrother . . ." Thor growled in a tone that wasn't sure if it was annoyed or aroused. "What game are you playing at?"

"Brother? Oh no. No, no, no, nooooo—" Bruce shook his head, chagrin all over his face. "You can't mean—"

"Loki." Tony spat out the name as if it tasted bad, and Steve empathized as he stared at the lissome brunette who blew him a kiss.

"My invitation was mislaid I fear, but what's a feast without dancing? Still, you have other matters to attend to." She snapped her fingers and instantly Mjölnir appeared, as did Happy, clutching the suitcase armor.

Tony held out his arms. "Hap!"

The bodyguard heaved the case, moving despite his clear confusion; Tony caught it and began to suit up. Thor held out a hand and the hammer flew to it.

"Thor, you and I will take care of this; Cap, might want to get everyone else out," Tony called tersely as the armor locked around him.

"Right," Steve replied, slipping an arm around Joe, who was still staring at Loki. "Binh, you too-"

"Yeah," came the quick reply as Binh trotted over. Steve glanced at Loki and felt his jaw twitch; seeing it, Loki broke into a lascivious smile.

"I'm sure you would hit a lady, but not today. Many felicitations on the occasion of your betrothal. Your intended certainly has her dainty hands full with your great, big . . . charms."

"Loki," Steve began, uncertain what to say. He could hear Tony and Thor in the hallway, and along with their voices he heard Ursula as well, her tone sounding extremely . . . annoyed.

Loki came closer and laid a finger on Steve's lips, smirking sweetly. "Shhhhhh . . . your enjoyment of my dance—that will be our secret."

"What?" Steve spluttered, blushing.

"S'okay," Joe spoke up, still gazing at Loki. "We all did, honey. Even if you usually ARE a guy."

More gunfire, but Loki smiled and waved her fingertips. "You I like, old one. Fare very well."

She disappeared in a gleaming flash of green, and Steve glanced around quickly, but there was no further trace.

"Fre-aky," Bruce muttered in a weak voice. "I knew bachelor parties could get a little crazy, but . . ."

"Later," Steve said firmly. "Let's get everyone up to the street. Barton?"

Hawkeye nodded. "I'll scout the way up, collect anyone else I find." He pushed up one sleeve to reveal a compact crossbow strapped to his forearm and grinned. "I came prepared."

"Good," Steve nodded. "Lead on."

The foyer that joined the two rooms was filled with smoke, and the mirrored wall had cracks in it; Steve looked towards the other meeting room and could hear the sounds of a fight coming out of it. "Looks like the Ingersoll Group's in trouble."

"Tony and Thor can handle it," Bruce reminded him. "We need to move, Steve."

"Clear up here," Hawkeye called down.

"Joe?" Steve looked at the older man, who eyed the stairs uncertainly.

"I can try but it won't be quick," he admitted. "Sorry Steve."

"I'll carry you," Steve told him. He handed the cane to Bruce and then gently lifted Joe, one arm behind his back, one under his knees. Moving smoothly, Steve trotted up the stairs, trying not to jostle him. The lobby was filled with chunks of rubble and broken glass; above the fancy chandelier swayed. Steve moved to the doors, still holding Joe while Bruce, Binh and Hawkeye flanked him. The sudden appearance of a large black S.H.I.E.L.D. transport outside the glass doors cheered him, as did the sight of agents spilling out of it. Striding ahead of them was a familiar figure in a black leather trench coat.

"What the hell sorts of games is Stark having you all play?" came the aggrieved bellow. "I generally don't have to mobilize troops for a bachelor party!"

"Whatever it is didn't start at our party," Bruce told Fury. "It was the adjoining room, bottom of the stairs to the left. Thor and Tony are down there right now."

Fury still looked pissed, but contented himself with waving a squad leader down and turning back to glare at Steve's group. "Any ideas?"

"We'd switched rooms," Steve pointed out, gently setting Joe down. "If there was a bomb it might well have been meant for our group." This little realization had dawned on him earlier.

Fury nodded. "We'll check it out. Any clues as to who?"

"Someone with access to AK47s, and C-4," Bruce murmured, handing Joe his cane. "I smelled the DMNB."

"Terrorists," Fury grunted. "Not . . ."

Steve debated his conscience for a moment, and then sighed. "Sir . . . Loki was here, but I'm pretty sure the explosion had nothing to do with her. Him."

Fury's gaze narrowed. "Loki?"

"Crashed the party," Hawkeye murmured, gaze scanning around the lobby. "I'd really prefer not to talk about it, sir."

"As a woman," Steve admitted, feeling another blush deepen as Fury gave him a hard glare.

"A woman," the head of S.H.I.E.L.D. repeated slowly, turning that one-eyed gaze to each face in turn.

"One of those whattayacall'em pole hootchies. She was hot," Joe whistled. "Legs that went on for miles, and a hell of an ass."

"Joe, ixnay," Steve muttered. "Not now."

A voice called up the stairs. "We have snared the troublesome one!"

"Thor," Bruce sighed, sounding grateful for the shift in conversation.

The sound of thundering footsteps made them all look, and the Asgardian appeared, dragging up a bulky figure in black body armor in one hand. Behind him came Ursula, looking like a peeved scarecrow.

"Stupid, stupid corporate trust games!" she spat. "God, I TOLD management not to allow those, I TOLD them that sort of idiot role-playing nonsense wasn't worth it!"

"Role-playing?" Hawkeye asked, crossing his arms.

"Team-building. Hey Ingersoll Group, what would you do in the face of a terrorist attack?" Ursula bellowed, pacing around the figure and looking as if she wanted to kick him with her pointy shoes. "So of COURSE the planners got over-enthusiastic, and then someone has a cousin at some building site and wouldn't it be great to use REAL plastic explosive, and oooh my brother has this automatic rifle and now, complete fucking CHAOS because a few upper management idiots thought it would be FUN to make their colleagues shit their pants during the session!"

No one spoke for a second. The figure in the body armor took off his helmet to reveal a chubby flushed face and terrified eyes. "Sorry, sorry. Rick MacGruder, Senior executive accountant . . ."

"Sorry." Fury turned his fierce stare on the man. "Sir, you haven't even begun to fully understand the meaning of that word. Allow me to escort you and your fun-loving 'team' to my headquarters where all of you are going to explain to the chief of police and the mayor of this city exactly what the hell you were thinking and what the hell you're gonna do to make up for it."

Rick began to quietly tear up, and Steve sighed, looking away. As other people began to climb the stairs and fill the lobby, he felt his phone vibrate; looking at it Steve spotted the text.

Saw the news; are you okay?

He texted back. We're fine. Someone ELSE'S party got out of hand.

You'll have to tell Tony he's slipping. :) came the reply.

Steve laughed.