Steve tried to justify himself to the two smirking scientists in front of him. "I just thought it might be some like of dastardly plot by a villain to grow computer replacements of us, or that they were the real you trapped in an alternate world, or... something,"
"How do you know we're not?" Bruce asked.
"Not what?"
"Not replacements sent to deceive you while your real team mates are trapped in this complex piece of technological mayhem," Tony finished. Bruce, with years of practice mastering his emotions, remained straight faced. Tony cracked and began snickering.
"We're," Bruce stifled a giggle, "really glad you brought this to our attention, Steve." He rubbed a hand bashfully over his perpetual five o'clock shadow to hide his widening smile.
"I mean," Steve continued to try to explain, "they're very lifelike... The one of you even has a robot making work bench."
"Well I'll be damned," Tony leaned over the desk to look at the tiny pixel Tony, who was indeed crafting a robot.
"Your energy bar is in the red, Tony. Maybe you'd better take a break from the robotics and catch some sleep," Bruce leaned over Tony's shoulder, resting a hand on his back, pressed a few buttons and the Tony sim dropped the wrench and hammer and began walking toward a bed.
"Awwww, just like real life.." Tony smiled and leaned into the touch of Bruce's hand on his back.
Bruce made a valiant effort to frown at Tony, but a small smile snuck out, nevertheless, he dropped his hand.
Steve, however, was even more alarmed, "How did you tell computer Tony what to do?"
"It's simple," Bruce trailed off for a moment as he realized yet another opportunity to be a troll, "I was having some problems with Tony not listening to reason - I'm sure you've experienced it - so while he was asleep I implanted a obedience chip in his brain. Now he, and all representations of him, have to follow my orders."
"Oooh, kinky," Tony waggled his eyebrows.
That horrified-by-the-future expression they were all so used to seeing on Steve slowly gave way to a look of hopeful curiosity, "So you can make Tony obey orders?"
"Wait, you're not disgusted at my disregard for Tony's civil liberties?" Bruce looked from one superhero to the other.
"I would be, but with Tony, someone had to take extreme measures," Steve replied.
"I think we broke Captain America," Bruce informed his lab partner.
But Tony was transfixed by the Sims, "Bruce, look at this..."
"Oh, she's gonna be pissed if she sees this..." Bruce's eyes widened.
"So we should definitely tell her, right?" Tony whipped out his phone. "Natasha, party in Thor's room, now. What? Yes, of course I've got a flask on me. What kind of question is that?" Tony hung up and turned to Bruce. "Sometimes it's like she doesn't even know me."
Bruce was still staring at a Sim identifiable as Natasha mostly by a bob of red hair, "I wonder who-"
"Is that what it looks like?" Steve interrupted incredulously. "I mean, can they do that? That seems very advanced. Jarvis can't do that, can he?"
"No, Jarvis can't reproduce," Bruce smiled.
"That gives me an idea for some new sub routines, actually..." Tony mused.
"You see, Steve, Sims are much more advanced than Jarvis," Tony frowned at Bruce's explanation for a moment before he realized what the curly haired scientist was up to. "They're top of the line AI. These were probably created using complete neural scans of all of us, and supplementary data from our SHIELD files. Watching their behavior will give us insight into our own psyches."
Steve nodded like it was all starting to make sense, "That's why the Stark one builds robots until he passes out..."
Natasha walked in, "Why are we all in Thor's room? And since when do two guys who discuss particle physics for fun and a man who unironically watches 'Reefer Madness' qualify as a party? Also: flask."
Tony pressed a hand to his arc reactor in an impression of wounded pride, the pulled a flask out of his coat pocket and passed it to Natasha.
Bruce pulled out the chair in front of the computer for her.
"What's this?" she gestured to the screen with the flask before taking a swig.
"Oh, I forgot, in Soviet Russia computer games play you!" Tony quipped.
"And mostly win at chess championships," Natasha agreed, generously letting the crack slide. "So what is this?"
"It's the Sims," Bruce explained. "A game of artificial people and their mundane day to day lives."
"And someone made sims of all of us!" Tony hurried him along, practically dancing in his eagerness to get to the punchline. "And this one's you!"
"Why am I fat? More importantly, why am I wearing pastels?" Natasha questioned.
"Because you're pregnant!" Tony yelled as if he were throwing a surprise party.
Whatever good mood Natasha had been coaxed into by the free sharing of alcohol was gone. "Who did this?" Her gaze turned to Steve. "Is this your game? Is this your idea of a joke?"
"No ma'am," Steve answered. "Even if I could, I wouldn't use technology to cast into doubt the honor of a lady," he coughed. "But I think there is one person in this room who is conniving with regards to both technology and women..."
Natasha trained her sights on Tony, looking like a bull who'd just seen red.
"Whoa, whoa, first of all, I can assure you there have been no soiling of women's virtue with me, in quite a while," he winked at Bruce, who tried to ignore him, "secondly, I did not do this," Tony took out his phone, "Avengers Assemble!"
"I'm supposed to make those calls..." Steve sighed.
"And you will, once you figure out how to use your phone," Stark assured him, "Repeat, all Avengers to Thor's room. This is an emergency. We need to know who got Natasha pregnant."
Natasha fingered her throwing knives and looked at the back of Tony's head as Bruce pulled him aside, "So when were you going to tell Steve he has to charge his phone?"
"He'll figure it out eventually. Or Thor will ruin it by showing him."