Because Steve resides in this lovely Tower as well, they can implement their brilliant plan almost immediately. Problem is, unlike T'Challa, Steve knows them down to the white blood cell in their body, so if Tony were to even sneeze funny?

At least they're not going it alone.

"Simple," Natasha draws a circle in the layer of dust coating the floor. "One of us will have to distract Steve long enough so the other can take his shield and bring it here to fix the machine. Good?"

"Perfect. Tag. You're it! Go distract Steve. I'll stay."

"Of, you wussy son of a –"

"What am I supposed to do, huh?" Tony wrings his hands in a show of exaggerated helplessness. "I can think of a thousand ways to distract him, sure. But you're wearing my body, so you're best positioned to do just that!"

"I can distract him just fine, and you're wearing my body."

"Yeah? What do you guys do on a Friday afternoon, huh? Sitting around eating cakes, watching soap operas?" Tony does not like the way her eyes balloon up with realisation. He has enough oh-crap! moments to last a week, so thank you very much.

Natasha grimaces. "I'm supposed to meet him in the gym half an hour ago."

No, no, no, freaking hell no –

"Tony, you have to go on my behalf."

"No! I'll seriously die!"

"He won't… uh, he pulls back his punches when sparring with us mere mortals."

"Yeah, but you're hardly human!"

"Hey, no need to get nasty –"

"I can't! I seriously can't! You know I rarely train with the Avengers outside of the suit. You'll have to scrape what's left of me off the mat after the hour is over, I shit you not."

And that's why she's called the Widow. She doesn't give two hoots about the possibility of him dying, and is more concerned about choosing the proper gym attire to go meet Steve in.Tony ends up one hour late to the session because he wanted to put on something that covers his chest and midriff and thighs but she vetoed everything, and insisted he put on something like an armoured bikini, because that's how she usually dresses up to the gym.

"You're fighting against enhanced individuals, Nat! This," he gestures at his bra, "is a death wish!"

By the time he shows up, Steve's face is already slick with sweat from whaling on a sandbag. He doesn't slow down even as Tony pads awkwardly to the centre of the mat.

"You're late," Steve eventually says, eyes still glued to his target. "Is everything OK?"

"Yeah." Holy crap, he sounds like he's on helium. Calm the hell down. "I mean," he clears his throat, "Everything's fine. Sorry."

Then, Steve leaves his sandbag with the sand slowly trickling out from the seams, and joins Tony. For every silent step he takes, Tony's heart beats a little bit more, until he must've looked something weird because then Steve stoops over him to his eye level, and watches him with curious, blue eyes. Their noses almost touch, for God's sake, and Tony – in his panic – sticks his sweaty palm flat on Steve's face, and promptly pushes him away.

"Christ, Rogers. Personal space, please!"

"Yeah. Sorry. I'm just… you sure you're OK? You look…"

"Absolutely golden."

"Frantic?"

"Excited."

"Well, you've been going all out lately. Sometimes I wonder if you're treating these sessions as therapies. Not that I mind," Steve begins to unwrap bandages from his knuckles. "If you need to let some air off your chest, I'm all ears."

"Just so you'll give me good performance appraisal, Cap. I need that end of year bonus."

"'Course you do. If Tony would do the same, give it his all –"

Why, that's just petty. "Maybe he doesn't give it his all because he likes to keep his gym, and Tower intact. Or maybe because he doesn't want to actually murder you guys –"

"Rising to his defense now, huh? That's actually nice of you. I was thinking if we should go hiking somewhere, do some team bonding activities, you know? Get the camaraderie going." He smiles again, and eases into a defensive posture, both arms raised to his chest. "OK. I promise I won't pull my punches this time."

And Tony thinks he just pees a little. Is he allowed to go to the bathroom or use the shower after this, or is he going to have to blindfold himself and have Natasha attend to him? Does that mean he better get that machine fixed before his bladder explodes? Yes, these are the things going through his mind as Captain America make mincemeat out of him, slamming him over and over again to the ground, holding him down in a chokehold until he screams "Uncle!"

"Jesus Christ, Steve!" Tony coughs into the crook of his arm after the nth time of such demonstration. "Ease up, soldier! Trust me, I'm in no hurry to reincarnate, so whoa –"

It's chauvinistic of him to think that Steve would not hit him as hard because it's a lady's body, but man. Show the lady some mercy, dammit! He's bruised in places he doesn't even know exist, and there's a persistent, blunt ache in the small of his back where he keeps impacting in his falls. This never happens when he's flying the suit, all right? He'll be hovering up there picking them off one by one with blasts of air pressure, and occasionally, swerving out of the way of Steve's shield or Clint's arrows. Even then, it's mostly JARVIS' doing. He's an engineer, not a comely assassin!

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let go!" He's down. He's down! And pinned to the mat, the worst thing that could happen when facing opponents a cut above his weight class. Tony scrabbles at Steve's exposed chest and neck with painted fingernails, desperate to get loose and Steve quickly arrests those hands with his, pinning them uselessly above Tony's head. He bulks his hips, needing to throw Steve off his balance and maybe kick him good in the tailbone, that'll serve him good –

"You're done, Nat. Stop."

Then, Steve easily quells the rest of his struggles by locking his thighs with knees.

"OK!" Tony yelps quickly, doesn't care that he sounds like he's inhaling helium again. "OK! I surrender! Uncle! White flag! Get off me, get off… Steve?"

Steve seems to have lost his mind, just staring at him with a blank expression, not moving, not speaking, and that creeps Tony out a great deal. Especially when he can feel Steve's panting ghosting his hairline –

He realises he's been making terrible decisions lately, but this can't get any worse, can it? So, he raises himself up the best he can, and claims Steve by his lips. He holds it for three seconds, and then Steve stops breathing – and then Steve's leaning in to deepen it –

OK, no homo, bro.

Tony pulls back immediately, gasping for air as Steve recovers. He looks conflicted, guilty, but it's exactly what Tony's looking for. So, when Steve starts to get up and apologise, Tony decides to go for his Hail Mary. He retracts his knee, and launches it right into Steve's groin.