"The hacker has corrupted our files on weaponry and that of all our contacts. We're still working on how this individual managed to bypass our firewalls, but as of now one person has seen the mechanical schematics for every caliber of firearm and explosive we have ever made, or plan to make in the distant future. If the hacker chooses to distribute this information to enemies of the UN, we could have a world crisis on our hands."

Steve flipped through the files in his hands as Natasha spoke. They were all back in the conference room, this time with Natasha giving them the important updates on that hacker from forever ago who, apparently, had been systematically re-hacking SHIELD's secure filed about every week. Steve shook his head.

"Something is off about this."

Coulson gave Steve what might have been his driest expression to date. "You don't say."

"It's been two months since the initial hacking – we should've had our world crisis already, or at least some kind of physical threat. It doesn't make sense to sit stewing on enemy information like this."

From across the table, Clint pointed at him. "My thoughts exactly. For an official high-profile enemy of SHIELD, this guy is a piss-poor strategist. For all he knows we could be planting fake information; we're no longer caught off-guard and unaware. He knows we're onto him."

Hill frowned. "We know nothing about this individual – no name, gender, location, motivation. We only know they're compromising SHIELD servers and seem to be fixated on our weapons program."

Steve scowled frown at the pages of mostly incomprehensible strings of code. "I'm getting the impression that if we were on this hacker's shit list, we'd probably already be dead. This person…is trying to find something, maybe. In our files."

Up front next to Fury, Natasha's brows furrowed. "Like what?"

Steve leaned forward. "Well, they could be looking for a particular weapon, but they would have found it the first time. They keep checking in, looking at ours and our allies'…I think our target knows something about a contact of ours, this contact's plan for some weapon. Keeps waiting to see if it's showed up in our inventory yet."

Fury's patented severe look overcame his face as he crossed his arms. "Are you suggesting that not only is this hacker not a threat to us, but that potentially one of our allies is?"

Steve shrugged. "Aside from pulling our curtains back, this target has not acted aggressively. The timing and frequency of the hacks is reminiscent of monitoring a potential threat – something SHIELD does every minute."

Clint leaned back in his chair. "They're on the defensive."

Steve nodded. "It makes more sense than an upcoming World War 3."

Natasha pursed her lips. "Running hypotheticals, especially optimistic ones, can only achieve so much. No one with enough technological prowess to infiltrate a government organization does so because they want to make friends."

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of his own phone's ringtone. His eyes widened as everyone turned to look at him, and not in the good way.

"Um – one moment please." He fished it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen, stomach dropping when he saw Tony's contact icon.

Steve there's an emergency! Leave work if you can and come to this address.

Attached below was a small file clearly depicting a photo screenshotted from Google Maps. Steve's breath caught up in his throat, and he looked up to see everyone staring at him with a bit of urgency now.

"What is it, Steve?" Clint asked.

Steve stood. "I'm sorry, there's a family emergency. I have to go right now."

For the smallest moment it looked like Fury might tell him to sit his ass back down – and then he nodded and waved him toward the door. "Go, Rogers. I expect you here tomorrow, bright and early, on time as always."

"Yes, sir." He gathered up all his files and rushed out of the room.

He all but ran from the building and climbed into his car, glancing once more at the map Tony had sent him – it was off the island, but with his clever use of highways and traffic's unusual show of mercy today, he was parked in front of a slightly run-down apartment building within a half hour. He opened the car door, considered for a moment, then pulled the pistol from his glove box and tucked it into his jeans. He had no clue what he might be walking into here, and he wasn't about to risk Tony's safety by entering unarmed.

He climbed the steps to the front door, followed Tony's directions to the correct suite, and knocked on the door.

Tony answered, a beautiful grin splitting his face. "Steve, you came! And how the hell did you get here so fast, you use your jetpack?"

Steve looked past Tony's shoulder, relieved to see that Tony seemed okay but still pretty panicked. "I left work the moment I got your text, what's wrong?"

Tony's grin widened impossibly. "Ah, your question should be what's right! My best friend Bruce came back from India this morning and I want you to meet him!"

The world stopped short from its manic, adrenalin-injected spin. Steve opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. "Tony. You said this was an emergency."

Tony had the sense to look the tiniest bit shameful. "Well, Bruce did sort of emerge. Bruce is the emergency."

Steve stared at him, shaking his head while he very subtly worked on getting his breath back. He had been so worried – but it was moments like this that Steve remembered just how different his life was from everyone else's. When someone told him emergency, his mind jumped to dismembered bodies or double murders, not my friend's back in town. A strangled laugh fell out Steve's mouth.

Tony cocked his head, brows furrowed. "You okay, Steve?"

He sighed, then managed a grin. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just glad you're okay Tony."

Tony's intelligent eyes softened a little, and the corners of his mouth quirked up gently. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Steve's smile was a little more genuine this time. "Next time, just tell me what the event is and I'll see what I can do about work."

Tony beamed. "Deal! Well you're here anyway, wanna come in and meet Bruce?"

"Sure." He stepped in after Tony, and the shorter man led him down the hall, which soon opened up into a shabby looking kitchen. The whole place smelled of fresh curry.

"Looks like he went back to his bedroom, stay here and I'll go get him." Tony disappeared into another small hall. The whole place looked like it hadn't been lived in in months. Soon Steve heard two male voices talking over each other, and then Tony was leading a man in front of him.

Bruce was short, about Tony's height, with curly black hair and eyes so dark they were almost black. His hunched posture made him look like he was bracing for some blow, but there was something curious in his expression that made Steve pretty sure that he and Tony had first bonded intellectually. Tony bounced up beside Bruce and held his hands out in a beholding kind of gesture.

"Steve, this is my best friend Bruce. Bruce, this is Steve, light of my life and fire of my loins."

Bruce looked equal parts exasperated and amused as he held his hand out. "Nice to finally meet you, Steve." Bruce's voice was deep and slow, almost luxurious. With a single sentence, Steve could tell it took a lot to break this guy's calm.

"Pleasure's all mine. I didn't know Tony really…" He made a vague hand gesture, and Bruce laughed.

"Had friends? Don't worry, he gets that all the time." Tony made an affronted sound and stepped back from the two of them.

"Even the people who like me don't like me!"

"Fact." Steve smiled so Tony knew it was a joke, but he received the middle finger anyway.

"Why do I even hang out with you guys…"

"Better question," Bruce said as he turned to Tony. "Why did I not learn about Steve until yesterday?"

Tony leveled an unimpressed look at him. "Why did you leave me and run off to India for like ten years?"

Bruce smiled and rolled his eyes. "I see your point. Still, I had no clue Steve existed until you told me about him over email."

Steve laughed. "You got a head start then – I didn't know you existed until about five minutes ago, and he doesn't even have some foreign country as an excuse there."

Bruce met his eyes and shook his head forlornly. "This is what we get for gallivanting around with a sarcastic, scientific asshole whose secrets happen to have secrets."

"Okay, that is quite enough Tony bashing! We haven't even gotten to the roast yet guys, you're doing this all out of order." Tony was looking only a little bit uncomfortable, and not with the jabs. Steve felt a sudden warmth for him in that moment, tinged with a little sadness.

"I'm glad you brought me over to meet Bruce, Tony." He reached a hand out and smiled, unsure of what Bruce was comfortable seeing and not wanting to put him off in his own house.

It seemed Tony had other plans. His lips flicked up into a mischievous grin before he lunged forward, pulling Steve down into a kiss. His whole body relaxed into Tony's and Bruce stayed silent – Steve didn't know yet if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

But when they pulled away, Bruce had the same serene expression with a tiny smile that spoke of seeing a friend happy. Tony turned to look at him, ignoring the almost fatherly look in his friend's eyes.

"Whatcha staring at Brucie? You can't join, you're not invited."

Bruce laughed, and looked at Steve without answering. "Would you like to stay for some early dinner, Steve? I've got some curry cooking right now if you'd like."

Steve smiled at him. "That would be lovely. Thank you, Bruce."

Tony sighed dramatically. "D'you have Benedryl, Bruce? Your collective politeness is giving me hives."

The next time it happened, they didn't get drunk together.

Sharon called Steve up and asked when he was free to grab a bite to eat. Steve could have said he was busy this week and the next, kept postponing until she got the message and fucked off, but he'd actually enjoyed their time together despite being heartbroken and depressed. He told her he was free for lunch on Tuesday. And that he hated Italian food.

So they met at a small bistro on their lunch breaks and ate sandwiches while they got to know each other without the influence of alcohol. Turned out Sharon had a great sense of humor, and they spent an hour laughing almost non-stop. Steve could easily see what had pulled him to her all that time ago. Steve was also surprised to learn that she wasn't naturally a blonde.

"You're not?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

"What's your natural color?"

"Brown. Dyed it like this in my early twenties back when blonde was the only way to be sexy." She laughed a little. "Even after I got over the novelty of it, I liked it more than my brown hair. It feels more me."

Steve smiled. "I agree. Keep it blonde."

When they were done eating and talking, Steve paid for them both because he was a little unsure if this was a date or just a lunch between friends. She cleared that up though, when she leaned up and kissed him before climbing into her cab.

After curry, Tony was visibly itching for a cigarette – a habit Steve could not, for the life of him, convince Tony to give up – and grumbled loudly when he realized he was out. He left to the nearest corner store with a wave over his shoulder and a jingle of his keys, leaving Bruce to calmly invite Steve to the balcony. He made Steve and himself cups of potent-smelling tea and led him to the sliding glass door.

Steve hadn't noticed until he was outside, but Bruce's place had fairly depressing lighting. It made the smoggy NYC twilight look like a Disneyland postcard. He sat himself down on one of the green lawn chairs overlooking the city, and saw Bruce doing the same.

"I hope this doesn't come out wrong…but does the coloring of your apartment ever get you down?"

Despite the fact that his question did come out completely wrong, Bruce chuckled serenely. "I suppose so, but I don't really have a depressive personality. I have a temper, I get stressed out very easily, so if anything the drabness calms me down."

Steve took a sip of the hot tea in his hand and tried not to make a face at the bitterness. "You have a temper? I can't really imagine that."

Bruce smiled. "Yeah, I keep a pretty tight lid on it. You'd think having a best friend like Tony Edwards would've shoved me off the deep end long ago, but…something about our friendship just works."

Steve blinked. "His last name is Edwards?"

Bruce quirked an eyebrow, and his voice was slow and dry. "You've been with him for two months and you never asked for his last name?"

He looked off into the streets. "I guess it never came up. Something as basic as a last name, and it never came up." He shook his head. "I don't know if this is oversharing, I mean I just met you, but – sometimes I feel like I don't know Tony at all. Like he hides everything about himself from me. It's like lo– dating a ghost."

Bruce's lips curled gently at Steve's slip up, but then he sighed. "I wish that I could give you better news, Steve, but that's just how Tony is. With everyone. We've been friends for years and he's opened up to me a handful of times – usually in crises, he's open when it's necessary. But if our minds are an ocean, Tony floats on the surface. He stays in the present. He has more under there, but I don't think he wants to go there unless he absolutely has to."

"What – is considered necessary? It might be selfish, but…I don't know how a full, mutual relationship is possible without even a minimum level of honesty."

Bruce looked torn for a moment, then set his drink down on the coffee table and turned toward Steve in his chair, looking him dead in the eye. "When I was a kid, my father beat me and my mother. He ended up beating her to death one day. I've got a lot of anger because of it."

Steve felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. "I'm so sorry."

Bruce shook his head gently. "Thank you, but I'm not telling you this for sympathy. When I told Tony, he looked startled, but calmer than you do now. He seemed to empathize. He gave me advice with how to deal with it, how to let go of what anger I could and embrace what I couldn't. It spoke of a lot of experience."

Steve went cold. "You – you think he was abused?"

Bruce gave a tiny shrug. "It's not my place to say, or to speculate. But a situation where Tony would find it necessary to tell you or me, would probably involve those experiences he hides from so well, coming back to bite him in the ass. My version, for example, would be if my father escaped from prison and came after me."

Steve scrubbed a slow hand down his face, letting out a puff of air. "So you're telling me I might never find out."

Bruce sighed. "If I'm being honest, you never knowing means Tony has no reason for you to know, which means his bad memories are staying in the past. As a concerned best friend, I couldn't ask for anything better. But yes. You might never find out."

Steve leaned back in his chair. He listened to the taxis blaring their horns as the sun ducked under the skyline. Bruce's tea filled his nose, and things felt comforting and bleak at the same time. "What if I can't do this? What if his – surface isn't enough?"

He thought of all that never knowing entailed – because this wasn't just some flighty curiosity on Steve's part. Tony's memories affected everything about their relationship, everything from talking to sex. Steve wasn't particularly needy in that department; they'd done everything he could imagine short of sex, and that was fine by him. Tony was absolutely sinful in everything he did under the sheets, and he left Steve seeing stars every time. But the idea of Tony having some deep-seated, ever-present hangup about sex terrified Steve – it made him scared to even kiss him, for fear of hurting Tony somehow.

To have something as wonderful as sex be flipped on its head, made into something painful and horrifying, gave Steve pause to say the least.

Bruce took a second to answer. "You mean the world to him. And he to you, I can tell. You have to ask yourself if you need to know Tony inside and out, or if you have all you need to love him anyway."

Steve frowned as he thought about that. Never before had he looked at his and Tony's relationship and thought, this might be a dead end. He was always too caught up in the way Tony smiled at him, that knowing look in his eyes, the way they moved around and past and into each other with just a glance. Time with Tony always glowed, with a forever sort of feeling that left no room for expiration dates.

"And I should also add, that if you break Tony's heart by stringing him along when you're not prepared for all he entails, I will find you. And you'll learn just how angry I can get."

Steve looked up to find Bruce burning a hole in his face, all traces of that serene calm replaced with a fire that had Steve, top agent of SHIELD and assassin extraordinaire, gulping. His black eyes promised disembowelment.

"I promise, I'll figure this out before it's too late."

Bruce shifted, and suddenly the Zen King persona was back in place – just as the glass door behind them slid open, and Tony popped his head out, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"What're ya doin' out here, ladies?"

Bruce turned and gave Tony a gentle smile. "Just giving Steve the shovel talk."

Tony rolled his eyes, sliding the door shut and pulling up a chair. He plopped himself down across from them both, back to the skyline so his smirking face was cast in shadow, and kicked his feet up until they were rested on Steve's lap. "Oh Brucie, when're you gonna learn that you're just not intimidating."

"Not to you, for some reason I can't fathom."

Tony smiled as he took a drag. "The reason is that you're a teddy bear."

Bruce was decidedly not a teddy bear, Steve knew. But as Tony pulled long and slow from his cigarette, Bruce shot him a fond smile that told Steve that he'd probably indulge this man to the ends of the earth and never lose patience. If Steve were the jealous type, his hackles might have raised.

But he was not the jealous type. So they all talked and laughed like two of them hadn't been discussing the possibility of ending a beautiful relationship. The sun went down, the city lights blinked on one by one, and Tony's laughter peeled into the night air like bells. Steve wanted to stay there forever, with Tony's feet on his lap and Bruce's tea tasting sweeter with every sip.