I can't thank you all enough for your continued support! Here is Entry 19... I do hope you enjoy it. ;)

Entry #19: Manhattan [or, "Stark Barbecue"]

Loki was perched on the deck railing. A bowl of Fritos sat to his right. To his left, a toilet plunger.

His eyes had never left the broken screen door. At any moment, the hideous green monstrosity could come crashing through, and Loki would most assuredly not be caught off-guard again.

Tony had been giving him strange looks ever since he had walked out onto the deck, and now he finally spoke up. "I don't know if I want to hear the answer to this… but what are you doing with the toilet plunger?"

Loki lifted his chin and looked rather indignant. "It is now my personal means of defense. Do not touch it."

"I wouldn't think about it," Stark assured him with raised eyebrows.

Natasha sighed and turned around to grab the plate of raw hot dogs and hamburgers that was sitting on a deck chair. The barbecue was now lit. "Loki," she said, sounding tired. "I really doubt you're going to find it very helpful if you're squaring off with the Hulk."

"Oh, really?" Loki grabbed the plunger and seemed ready to demonstrate his prowess with his makeshift spear, but Stark stumbled to his feet, backing swiftly toward the door.

"No, no, we believe you," he lied, raising his glass of Dr. Pepper as if in a toast to Loki and his deadly toilet plunger. "No need for that."

Loki looked somewhat appeased and lowered the plunger back to the deck railing.

At that instant, Clint strode through the destroyed screen door, brushing aside a flap of wire mesh with the back of his hand. Dr. Banner was close behind him.

Stiffening, Loki wrapped a hand protectively around his improvised weapon and glared at the Hulk's alter-ego.

Dr. Banner gave him a peaceable smile and waved. "Hello."

Loki made no reply of any sort, but his expression was as stoic and unreadable as ever. Tony shrugged, and then shook Dr. Banner's hand. "Sorry about—" he nodded at the demigod. "He couldn't be helped."

"In more ways than one," muttered Clint.

Loki shot him a death-glare.

"So, welcome to the Official Avengers Barbecue Bash, which Clint has so kindly offered to host at his very own home in Manhattan," Tony continued, taking a seat in the lounge chair once again. Clint waved carelessly from one of the other deck chairs as Tony resumed speaking. "Help yourself. And I do feel bad about leaving you at Stark Tower with Pepper and her toxic recipes. Well, sort of bad. It's not like you're defenseless OR have a complete lack of things to entertain yourself with. I mean, seriously, two laboratories and access to my personal workspace? That's not a luxury I afford just anyone."

Natasha suddenly piped up with, "Hamburgers are done!" She waved a metal spatula at Clint, who scrambled inside to prepare the lettuce leaves and the burger buns and the pickles and the condiments, some of which Natasha had picked up at the store earlier in the day.

Tony drained his glass of Dr. Pepper and began to pour himself a third (although perhaps it didn't quite count as a third, since Loki had accidentally knocked the second one over). "About time," he said cheerfully, reaching for one of the paper plates sitting on the table.

Then Natasha groaned. "False alarm," she growled, poking one of the hamburgers apart with the spatula. "These are still raw."

"What?!" Tony whined. "But I'm hungry!"

Natasha glared at him, and then extended the spatula. "You wanna give this a try?" she challenged.

"Believe me," said Tony with a smirk. "Nobody can cook hamburgers like the Man of Iron."

Raising an eyebrow, Natasha nodded. "Okay. All yours."

"Just a minute."

With that, Tony Stark disappeared into the house just as Clint stepped outside. The SHIELD agent looked over his shoulder with some concern. "Where's he going?"

Natasha sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Who knows?" she mumbled, turning back to the barbecue and flipping the hamburgers and hotdogs.

Several minutes later, Stark reappeared.

Except this time, he was fully attired in the newly upgraded Mark VII armor.

Clint stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed and uncomprehending, and then did a double-take. "What are you… whoa… whoa whoa whoa, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"

Tony brushed a horrified Natasha aside and flipped open the lid to the barbecue. "Stand back," he warned. "We're going to cook these… Stark-Style."

"Stark-no-please-I-really-don't-think-that's-a-good-idea-just-let-me—" Clint began, reaching out as if to shield his old and cantankerous (but much beloved) barbecue. Natasha tackled him to the deck.

Tony extended his armor-gloved hands. Two flaps on his arm-guards flipped up and there was a menacing sizzle. Nobody moved.

Then two fireballs exploded from Mark VII, completely engulfing the hamburger and hotdogs, but not quite reaching the deck railing (thank heavens). Sparks filled the air. There was a moment of crackling and sputtering flames. And then a loud *whoosh* as Iron Man literally blew out the fire with some hidden nozzle in his armor.

Clint was panting on the deck, Natasha was lying sprawled across a chair (where he had accidentally thrown her after assuming that some unknown enemy was assaulting him), Dr. Banner was hunched over in his chair whilst an ominous green vein throbbed in the middle of his forehead, and Loki was crouched under the table, both hands covering his head as if to shield himself from the inferno.

In the ensuing moment of awed silence, Stark said proudly, "I really oughtta start my own business. Stark Barbecue. What do you think?"

After a moment, Clint raised his head and wheezed, "For the safety of Earth and all who live on this planet, I vote 'NO'."

Tony turned around, his visor lifting, and noticed Loki surreptitiously trying to crawl out from underneath the table. Their eyes met.

And then Loki said, in a perfectly accented, very dignified voice: "I dropped my Frito."

For some reason, everyone seemed to think this was hysterical. Loki thought otherwise, but kept his own opinion to himself, merely glowering at the rest of the party.

Mark VII began to fold up into what looked like a suitcase but actually turned out to be a small wallet. The Avengers all stared at it in amazement. Tony smirked, and clipped mini-Mark VII shut. "New model," he explained, casually stuffing it in his back pocket. "More convenient."

There was dead silence on the back deck.

Tony turned back to the hamburgers and exclaimed in a very pleased tone of voice, "Ah! I see the meat is done."

"You mean over-done," corrected Bruce Banner. He had apparently recovered from his close call and was shaking his head at Tony. The billionaire ignored his remark.

"See, Nat? It wasn't that hard." Tony reached for the spatula, and then flipped the burgers and hotdogs onto the nearby plate. Each one hit the ceramic surface with a sinister clunk.

Clint cringed.

"Ta-daaaaa!" Tony Stark let out a quavering note of triumph, holding out the plate of blackened hamburgers.

A loud chorus of "No thank you"s and "I'll pass"s rang out on the back deck.

Loki smirked. "I'll take one."

The Avengers all gaped at the demigod as he rose from his seat on the deck railing and sauntered toward Tony, swiping a paper plate from the table on his way by. He held out the plate expectantly. Tony took the spatula and scooped up the top burger (coincidentally, it was also the most burnt specimen) and plopped it onto Loki's plate.

"Condiments in the kitchen," Clint informed him, fighting hard to keep a straight face.

Loki disappeared through the door. When he returned, it became extremely apparent that he had never eaten a burger before:

The mustard had been drizzled to one side, as if it were merely a dip and not a dressing. Two large pieces of cheese took the place of burger buns, and a lettuce leaf had been set to one side for later inspection. The pickles had a corner of the plate all to themselves as well, and were drenched in ketchup.

All eyes were on Loki as he picked up his Cheese-and-a-Burnt-Burger-Deluxe and took one big bite. He chewed for a long while, glancing from one smirking Avenger to the other, and then swallowed, a slow smile spreading across his pale face. "My congratulations to the cook," he announced suddenly in his refined British tones. All jaws dropped to the floor, and all eyes popped out of their respective heads. "I am pleased to inform you that this is quite positively the best thing I have ever tasted."

Tony Stark stared at Loki for a moment, plainly flustered, and then covered it up with a dramatic flourish of the spatula. "Finally! Somebody recognizes my talents!"

That earned him several loud guffaws from the rest of the Avengers.

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~Alassiel