In which the Avengers never actually get around to playing poker.

Warning: Mild language in this one.

Chapter 4: Poker

"Tonight, we play poker! I'll deal," Tony said, whipping out a deck of cards.

"Um, Tony, I seriously doubt that any of us have the amount of money that you're used to playing for," Bruce pointed out kindly.

Clint grinned wickedly from across the table. "We don't need money to play poker. There are so many other things to wager."

"That's what I love about Merida here. Always thinking outside the box," Tony grinned back, ignoring Clint's glare. "Strip poker it is."

"So…we have to get naked?" Steve asked. His face flushed at the thought.

"Only if you're bad at poker," Tony pointed out. He eyed Natasha lecherously. "I hope that some of us are really, really bad at poker."

"We'll see," Natasha said cryptically, poker face already in play.

"Guys, this seems like a bad idea," Steve protested. "It's inappropriate."

"I must agree with the good Captain. Though it sounds entertaining, I must uphold my duty as future king of Asgard and Ambassador to Midgard," Thor boomed.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Were you specifically told not to get naked with a group of friends playing poker?"

Thor frowned. "Well, no…"

"And what about you, Captain Spandex? What's your problem with strip poker?"

Steve remained steadfast. "It's a moral thing. Besides, there are plenty of ways to bond as a team with our clothes on."

"Not as good as this one," Clint said.

Bruce shrugged. "I'm always naked when I de-hulk. And we all saw Tony dancing nude after his tequila night."

"C'mon, Rogers. What's the worst that could happen?" Tony urged, ignoring the last part of Bruce's comment.

"Well…what about Natasha?"

"What about her?"

"You can't ask her to strip in front of all of us!"

"That's funny, because Fury definitely makes me do that all time," Natasha snorted.

The blood drained from Steve and Tony's faces.

"On missions, you idiot," she clarified, rolling her eyes.

Clint nodded. "You have no idea how many men get to see her mostly naked before she kills them."

"Lucky bastards," Tony muttered.

"You realize that I do kill them, don't you?" Natasha asked, glaring at Tony. "Besides, it's not that many men."

Tony shrugged. "Sounds like a good way to die."

"True that," Clint seconded.

"Can we get back to the poker playing part of this evening?" Bruce asked, trying to steer the group back to the game and keep Natasha from murdering someone.

"Not until Captain Chastity tells us what his issue is," Tony countered.

"I already did!"

"Steve, can I talk to you in the hall for a minute?" Natasha asked. Instead of waiting for him to answer, she tugged him out of his seat and forced him to follow. She turned and called over her shoulder, "Tony, you can start dealing."

"Finally," Bruce muttered.

Tony was halfway through the deck when a shriek erupted from the hall. Natasha emerged half-dragging Steve, who quickly tore himself away from her grip and took off toward the elevator.

"Um, what just happened?" Bruce questioned timidly. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer.

Natasha shrugged. "I thought the best way for him to conquer his nudity fear was to get it over in one go, like jumping into a pool."

"And that made you squeal?" Thor asked.

"No, that noise was Steve. I may have flashed him…for a good fifteen seconds. And then he fainted."

"Ohh…" Tony, Clint, and Bruce said together.

Natasha took her place at the table sighed. "I know, right? I've never had anyone react like that before. It's kind of insulting, really."

"What is the meaning of this 'flashing?'" Thor questioned.

"It means that she surprised him with a difficult fighting technique," Clint lied smoothly. There were some things that Thor definitely didn't need to know.

"I would be honored for the privilege, Romanoff. Honestly," Tony said earnestly, ignoring Clint.

"I know," Natasha replied, flipping her hair. She stood up and stretched. "But it's never going to happen, Stark. Anyway, it looks like we're not getting around to poker tonight. One of you should probably go comfort Steve in case he's still crying. I'm going to bed."

Bruce sighed, heading for Steve's room. He had been looking forward to poker night. Instead he had to explain to Steve why he should be celebrating instead of crying. "Lucky bastard," he muttered.