"Trouble in Paradise"
Chapter 3
When Bruce woke up the next morning, Tony was already out of the room. He shook his head as he got dressed.
He went downstairs to the hotel buffet. Quickly, he located the table where most of the Avengers were sitting.
Tony lingered at the serving tables, scooping scrambled egg onto his plate. Bruce approached him, picked up a dish, and began serving himself bacon, maneuvering himself across from the Man of Iron, who was very pointedly not looking at him.
"Good morning, Tony."
Tony didn't respond.
"Ah, yes. The silent treatment. Very mature."
Again, no response.
"Oh, come on, Tony!" Bruce paused, his eyes opening wider in disbelief, "Look, I'm sorry if I said something to upset you, but I didn't mean to, and I can't exactly fix what I did, if you don't talk to me…"
Tony sighed and ran the hand that wasn't holding his plate through his hair. He nodded Bruce over, and the began to walk to the table together, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so snippy about it last night. I just don't like thinking about my dad and how very disappointed he always was with me."
"Sorry–"
"No, don't apologize. It's not your fault my dad was a dick." Tony frowned.
"Well, I'm sorry. Tony, if you want to talk–".
"Good morning, lady and gentlemen!" Tony over-enthusiastically pulled out his chair and flopped down.
"You guys are up late." Steve furrowed his brow.
"Look who's talking, you've barely started eating." Tony waved across the table at Steve's full plate of pancakes and fruit.
"That's his third plate." Natasha mentioned, sounding very bored.
Bruce smiled at the Captain, who blushed and shrugged. "Part of the super-soldier thing makes my metabolism run like wildfire. Thor's on his fifth plate anyway!"
Thor smiled around his mouthful of waffle.
After several minutes of companionable silence, Tony looked at Thor, "So, Thor, where's the green-horned menace?" He asked, taking a bite of egg.
Thor frowned, "Loki is upstairs in the room."
"You don't think he'll try something?" Tony gestured dramatically with his butterknife. Bruce frowned, watching as Thor's fist clenched tighter around his fork.
With a sigh, Thor answered, "No. He doesn't have an army this time, and alone he cannot face all of us. And, I made sure he was unarmed for this trip." Thor took a long slow sip of orange juice.
"Why are you bothering with this?" Tony asked nonchalantly, leaning his chin on his hand.
"Tony." Clint whispered harshly, while Natasha and Steve threw Tony dirty looks. Bruce buried his face in his hands.
Thor didn't answer, so Tony continued, "Look, I'm watching you try, but it's just upsetting you, why not just let Loki go."
"He is my brother," Thor made out through clenched teeth.
"Oh, come on!" Tony forcibly rested his hands on the table. "Don't give me that blood is thicker than water crap. If he doesn't care, he doesn't care. And, if I remember correctly, he's not even your brother by birth, so the blood thing doesn't even really apply."
"That does not matter."
"Look, far be it from me to butt into your problems," Bruce rolled his eyes at that, "But, it's wearing you down, man."
"Loki and I grew up together. Blood brothers or not, he is family."
"Forced interaction with someone doesn't make them family, Thor! Look, you guys," Tony waved at everyone at the table. "You guys are family. You, Rhodey, and Pepper. That's family. People you enjoy spending time with, not stray kittens your dad picked up after a battle."
"Oh god, Tony!" Steve nearly shouted.
Thor stood abruptly. Bruce had never seen the thunder god that mad before.
"Thor, just listen–"
"No, you listen. Yes, you should enjoy spending time with your family, but Stark, family is who you will die for. I would die for all of you, yes. I would die for my mother and father, Lady Sif, the Warriors Three, Dr. Foster, and for most of Asgard and Midgard, and, yes, I would die for Loki. I grew up with him. We spent days in each other's company, exploring Asgard. We played and fought together. Whatever you may say, I will fight for those days again and for the brother I remember. And, if you have never found someone for whom you would do the same, I am very sorry for you." Once his speech ended, Thor turned and left he dining hall.
"Great, now you've offended the god of thunder. Smooth move, Stark." Natasha fell back in her chair.
"What? You guys don't think he's wearing himself out on a worthless cause?"
"I may not like Loki," Steve said, turning to Tony, "But, I don't really think it's a worthless cause for Thor to reach out to his brother."
"Oh, yes, Mr. Sweet Tea and Apple Pie, you would say that."
"Tony, why are you being such an ass?" Clint snapped.
"I just think…Nat, come on, would you put yourself through hell like that for your folks."
Natasha raised an eyebrow, "No," she paused, "But, I still wish I could care that much about anyone."
With a furrowed brow, Clint looked at Natasha.
Tony ignored them, "Ugh, whatever. See you guys later. I'm going to the beach." And, without another word, Tony strode out.
Clint and Natasha changed into their swimsuits in front of each other. After being partners for years and lovers for months, there wasn't really anything they hadn't seen before.
"New swimsuit. Like it?" Natasha turned around to face him.
Clint grinned. The black and red bikini looked fabulous on her curves, like he had any doubts. "Yeah…" He pulled her by the wrists into a kiss.
When she pulled away to grab a towel, his eyes followed her. He had known he was in love with her, pretty much the night after they slept together. "Um, hey, Tash…"
"Hm?" She didn't turn around, instead grabbing a sunscreen bottle.
"Look, you said something earlier…when Tony was being an ass–"
"He's always an ass."
He laughed uncomfortably, "I know, but when Thor was upset about Loki, and you said something about not caring about your parents–"
Clint could see Natasha's guard come up, a veil behind her eyes. "I didn't know them, how can I care–"
"No, no, not that. I mean, I knew that. But, then you said you wished you could care about anyone that much."
Natasha sighed.
"Look, you don't need to say…well, I just want to know what this is, with us, I mean."
"We're having some fun Clint." Fun? Fun was what she had with her marks, before they died.
"Well, yes." He chuckled, "I mean, of course, but what are we? If you can't care about anyone, what am I?"
"Clint, you're my partner, that's the closest anyone's ever made me get to caring." She reached a hand to his shoulder.
He guessed her words were supposed to be comforting, but they really weren't. "Natasha, look, I just want to know what I'm getting into–"
"God, Clint, we're having a good time. I like you, you like me, does it need to be any more complicated than that?"
"Well, no–"
"What, do you want to get married in the hotel chapel? What do you want me to say?"
"No, I don't, I just–I'd like…" He faltered. He wanted her to love him as much as he did her. "I'd like…I'd like to know what we're going to be tomorrow."
"Partners, always, Clint." Natasha stepped up to him.
"Professionally, yeah, but Tash–"
Natasha quickly cut him off by pressing her lips to his. He tried to pull away, "Tash–" but she pulled him back.
"Come on, Clint, shut up," She forcefully pushed him back on the bed, "You can do so much more with that mouth of yours."
Coulson sat at a table overlooking the beach. The green and white umbrella, and his glass of pineapple juice off-set the overwhelming heat.
"Agent Coulson!"
Coulson smiled as he turned and saw Steve Rogers approach him, "Captain," he nodded.
"Can I join you?"
"Of course, of course."
Steve sat down, carefully balancing a very full glass of some tropical drink, and nearly spilling it.
An awkward silence stretched between them. On Coulson's end, it felt like, "What do you say to a man you've idolized since you were six?" and on Steve's, "What do you say to a man you thought was dead until twenty-four hours ago?"
Steve swallowed hard and reached into his pocket, "Um–so, here…I kept these, but now…I guess, you'll probably want them back." He gently set Coulson's Captain America cards in front of the original owner.
Wide-eyed, Coulson looked from the cards to Steve and back, before picking up one of them. "You–you signed them…"
"Heh…" Steve chuckled sadly, "I said I would, didn't I? I felt like a real jerk, when I hadn't, you know. Maybe it wasn't such a big deal, I mean, you were dead, but for some reason, those cards just bothered me…I guess, well, you've believed in me longer than anyone here, probably longer than anyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. It felt like the least I could do…"
"Thank you." Coulson's face remained shocked. He continued to finger the cards.
"Thank you." Steve grinned.
"When did they get covered in blood?" A frown crossed Coulson's face.
"Um, Fury said they were in your pocket when you were attacked."
With an emphatic shake of his head, Coulson said, "No. They were in my locker."
There was a long pause. "Huh…may need to talk to Fury about saying they were, then," he picked up a card, that proudly showed him saluting, "And maybe ask whose blood this is…"
Coulson laughed.
Another silence stretched between the two of them. Steve asked, "So, what's life at home like for you?"
"Not much. Being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent isn't very good for a stable family." A corner of Coulson's mouth twitched up in a sad half-smile.
Steve nodded. "Anyone special, though?"
Suddenly, Coulson's face split into a grin. "Did you know Tony's assistant played the cello…"