All the Foes Shall Perish

Bruce's POV

I sigh as I shift on the uncomfortable barstool and watch Tony flirt shamelessly with the girl sitting on his other side. I had been roped into being Tony's wingman, and only because I had literally nothing else to do and Tony had spectacular puppy eyes.

Taylor gave me a sympathetic grin from her seat a few tables away, ready to help haul Tony home if he got drunk. Just ride it out, she mouths.

How? I raise my eyebrows.

She waves her phone. I'm texting Clint.

I pat my pockets down and sigh, shaking my head. She just gives me another sympathetic look and goes back to her phone as I listen to the girl – Abby? Allie? Annie? – drone on and on about some photo shoot.

Then Tony excuses himself to go the bathroom, shooting me a thumbs up as he passes me. I just roll my eyes and shake my head, silently wondering why we had to be here when Tony could always occupy himself in his workshop.

Once he's gone, the girl huffs and reapplies her lipstick, using the mirror behind the bar to, ah, adjust certain…assets…to make them more aesthetically pleasing. She then pokes around in her small purse for a minute before picking up a pink phone with a case that was covered in rhinestones. "Hey, it's Andi." Oh, so that was her name. I was close. "Horrible. The man only worries about himself, it, like, so trashy…That may have been a stunt, do you think he might have had a stunt double? No, I don't think it was Channing Tatum! And, ugh, he hangs out with losers. The green thing has no fashion sense…I know, right? But the leader…he should be modeling, not rolling around with these scumbags…ugh, don't even get me started on the girls. The redhead is, like, so yesterday, practically screaming for attention…such a snake, And the kid, ooh, don't know what that steamy piece of buff sees in her. So immature…dirty, much? What a baby."

I tense and look over at Taylor, who is stiff as a board with her eyes sharp and focused on Andi, and I can see one of her hands twitching, presumably towards one of her weapons.

"Do you think I could get Jase and Carlos on this? Scuff their polish a bit?...no. Of course not, OMG. That would…no, I was going to…"

"Can I shoot her?" a voice breathes from behind me, the words brushing against my back.

"Not in public," I hiss back. "But I don't particularly enjoy her either."

"You don't say."

She slips back into her usual seat, barely seen, as she keeps one hand on her hip – and, by extension, her pistol.

"…so last season… I could get Stark in with us, don't you think? Wipe some of the oil off, shave the goatee, slick the hair…I know that, Juli. I just don't think he can…I can be plenty comforting! The kid's mother in all bye-bye, I can comfort a grieving widow. Make him see the error-" I barely see a shadow squirm to my left.

She never finishes her sentence. She gets full on tackled by a whirlwind of jeans, leather boots, and a purple hoodie. She writhes under Taylor for a few seconds before the upper hand becomes clear and Taylor drags her up by the shirt, pinning her against the guy and bracing her forearm against Andi's neck that with one upwards jerk, could snap her neck.

"Who are you?! Police, police help-" Taylor shuts her up by smacking her free palm into the side of her side. "Ow!"

"I doubt I did any real damage," Taylor snarls, "It seems most of your brain cells are on vacation."

"What?" Andi blinks dumbly.

Taylor sighs and shakes her head. "Hey, did you hear about that huge gas leak thing last week? I heard a certain team stopped them…"

"Really?" Andi looks curious. "Which one?"

Taylor stares at her. "I can't allude to anything with you, can I?" She tilts her head. "Trashy, really? Is that how you see Tony Stark, let alone the Avengers?"

"He can do so much more with his life," she whines pathetically.

Taylor bares her teeth. "Really? Genius, smartest man in the world, multi-billionaire, head of one of the biggest charity foundations in the US…what more does he need?"

"Me," she smirks.

"And you're so important, aren't you?" Taylor growls. "What's so special about you?"

"Everyone likes me, duh." Andi explains as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Nah," Taylor smirks. "Not everyone. Or else we wouldn't be here, would we?"

"What? The Unholy Grail?" Andi frowns as she names the bar.

Taylor uses her free hand to facepalm. "No. I mean here," she pushes her arm into her captor's neck, "you idiot."

"I don't understand…"

"Of course you don't." Taylor sighs. "Anyways, I hardly see Tony Star as trashy. So, Miss Queen Bee, unless you want to find yourself in more…sticky…situations like this one, I suggest you keep you fruitalicious Cherry Sparkle lips sealed. Are we clear?"

Andi mods cheerfully just as there's movement behind us signaling someone else in the room. Taylor quickly pinches at something in Andi's neck, causing her to go limp as she gets tossed behind the bar, hitting the ground with a muffled thud.

Taylor glances around quickly, noting the silence before straightening her hair and walking over to me. "You don't understand German, right?"

"Nothing more than hello, why?"

"I need to make some calls…" she fishes out her phone and taps a few numbers in before raising it to her ear. "Falke? Ich bin es. Hören Sie , mein Schatz, ich brauche einen gefallen." She rolls her eyes. "Nein, ich habe niemanden getötet…ich schwöre!" she hiffs. "Ja! Wie auch immer, ich brauche dich und spinne, sie schauen. Und verwenden sie die van..." she tilts her head. "Hause, ja, nicht ins gefängnis. Nicht so schlecht. Zu nennen? Und Ich. Ich weiß nicht. Fahren sie sicher , meine Liebe, ich glaube nicht, müssen sie sie entweder zu töten…ich liebe dich auch. Auf Wiedersehen."

She ends the call and slips her phone back into her pocket, turning back to me.

"Who was that?"

We both jump and turn to see Tony walking up from behind us, wiping his hands on his jeans.

"A guy," Taylor replies vaguely. "Don't worry about it."

Tony squints at her and then looks around the bar suspiciously. "Where did Andi go?"

"She left," Taylor shrugs, "and seemed to be in a big hurry," she states nonchalantly like Andi wasn't really knocked out behind the very bar she was currently leaning on.

Tony shrugs and looks at her again, specifically the purple bruise forming beneath her eye. "What's with the shiner?"

She shrugs again. "Old training mishap, the concealer must've worn off."

Tony looks hesitant but nods slowly, grabbing his coat and slapping a waded up bill on the bar before heading out the door.

I fall behind and Taylor purposely matches my stride. "You want to tell me where that bruise really came from?"

"Trashy's handbag whacked me," she winces. "Man, Louis Vutton hurts."

"I'll be checking that out when we get home," I warn her, but she just nods. "I expected as much, Doc."

I nod. "Nice job."

"Thank you," she grins, then frowns. "I don't like doing that."

"What, beating up your dad's bad mouthers?"

She shakes her head. "No, that I like. It's more…the principle. Tackling his mean girls, the ones who stab in the back with tweezers. He…before the team he dated around so much…I remember the first time I walked in on him." Her face gains an amused look. "I was six. And traumatized for a week. Anyways, it's not good for him. But I can't do anything because he's the parent, not me, and I can't tell him who to date, only vice-versa." She sighs.

"I can talk to him," I offer, watching as her eyes light up. "I was in there too."

"You would?" I nod. "Thanks, Bruce! You never heard it from me."

"Heard what?" I ask impishly as Tony honks his horn impatiently, causing Taylor and I to pick up our pace slightly. "Calm down, Tony!"

"Hurry up, Bruce!"

"Meh!"

"Myah!"

"Both of you, shut up!"