"Right, and so, after we took care of the rabid racoon and washed off all of the glitter and, you know, fur, we realized that we were lost."
Tony finally finished his story with a breath that he hadn't taken the whole time. Bucky stared at him, mouth slightly open, while Steve rubbed his forehead and Natasha did the closest thing to a smirk her face could approximate.
It was one of the more ridiculous stories Bruce has ever heard literally in his life. It was amazing. Tony had thought on his feet, admittedly not well, and seemed to become enraptured with his own made up cover story as it got wilder and wilder.
Bucky simply stared at him dully.
"Fine, Steve. Just get them back to their…"
He paused, eyeing them and pondering the story a little deeper.
"Traveling group of blind circus performers and American flag makers?"
Tony nodded proudly, and even little Steve hid a small smile in his sleeve.
"Yep. Be back before dark!"
Steve said, deadpan as if nothing strange had happened at all, grabbing Bruce's wrist in one hand (with a disappointingly weak grip) and Clint's jacket in the other. Natasha and Tony trailed after them.
They practically fled out the door and down the stairs, until Clint finally did something (Bruce couldn't actually tell what) that freed both him and Bruce from Steve's grip in the blink of an eye.
He grinned at them, darting back to Natasha's side before any of them could say anything. Tony sighed, and Steve pulled them down an alley and away from the sight of passers-by on the street.
"Hey, I got beat up in this alley!"
He told them, his scrawny face lighting up in remembrance before he remembered what he was remembering and rubbed his neck awkwardly.
Clint patted his shoulder sympathetically and turned to Tony and Bruce. Tony stopped prodding what was possibly a mound of old Nutella mixed with garbage to straighten up and feign seriousness.
"Bruce? Tony? Any ideas?"
Clint asked.
Tony opened his mouth to speak, grinning with an evil smirk.
"-preferably Bruce?"
Clint changed his mind, looking at the sometimes monster, always scientist.
Tony pouted playfully, and Bruce nudged him until the billionaire's face turned serious again. Bruce smiled at Clint, who preened in an eerily reminiscent reminder of his bird-related namesake.
He tapped his hand against the concrete wall absently, nervously.
"The only thing I can think of is to find the…"
Bruce glanced at Clint again, hesitant.
"...MEB and try to get it to send us back."
"So there's no guarantee that even if we do find it, somehow, in the middle of 1930's New York, that it will actually get us back home."
Natasha observed coolly, neither her facial expressions nor her tone changing, simply stating a fact. Bruce shrugged uncomfortably. That was why he let Tony be the one who dealt with people while he scienced, mostly.
"Awesome!"
Tony said.
"Awesome."
Steve repeated flatly.
"And where would something that potentially dangerous end up where we come from?"
Steve asked, crossing his arms. He had already reached a conclusion.
Tony looked offended.
"Obviously it would end up with me, well, me or SHIELD, but probably me because I'm the best equipped-"
Tony closed his mouth abruptly, opened it, and closed it again.
"Stark Industries?"
Clint guessed, judging by the look on his face.
Tony's face fell further into a scowl.