CHAPTER THREE

...to physical trials

Part Two

"What exactly do you need me for, again?" Steve Rogers asked, stretching his legs and checking his shoe laces.

The Avengers, Spider-Man, the crowd from the gym, and a body of new onlookers comprised of support staff and security forces gathered by the compound's jogging trail. It was a half mile earthen track that ran through the main cluster of buildings, along the edge of the woods, past a stadium-sized inflated structure the Avengers used for combat training, and around the open grassy area between the main gates and the visitors' reception area.

James Rhodes answered before anyone else could. "Because the doc' wants to see if running against an opponent will increase the kid's scores over what he did on the treadmill. And he's closer to your level than he is to ours." Rhodes gestured to the rest of the team, then tapped his leg harness. "Especially mine."

"And Vision doesn't run..." It was true. As a synthetic organism, Vision was created at the peak of his physical abilities. Exercise would not improve them, nor would they decline with disuse. But when he needed speed, he simply flew. "What about Thor?"

Natasha Romanoff smiled and gestured by nodding to her left. "On his way now." Sure enough, Thor was striding toward them with a smile on his face, looking somewhat incongruous in grey sweat pants and a dark blue t-shirt clearly a size too small. It was a running joke among the compound's support staff to make sure Steve's and Thor's shirts were on the tight side. Steve learned to keep a stash of shirts in the correct size. Thor found it amusing and played along.

"So it is to be a race, then? Midgard versus Asgard? Champions of the realms, for glory and honor?"

Bruce Banner looked up from his pad, held his hands (and the pad) up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, this is not a race! We just want to compare, um, Spider-Man's performance on the treadmill to the track." Technically he had all the data he needed from the treadmill and the sensors, but Sam Wilson and Clint Barton convinced the good doctor to bring things outside for… a more practical trial. To see if running against (er, with) others would change the results. They claimed.

Sam explained, "More of a real-world situation, an' a couple of other runners. For, y'know..."

Clint jumped in, "Inspiration."

Thor rolled his shoulders. "Very well. I shall be pleased to inspire our young friend to new heights of," he struck a pose, hands on hips, "running." Several eyes rolled, but everyone smiled. Thor's braggadocio had changed from his first visits to Earth, from actual arrogance to a kind of positive self-deprecation. It was funny, once you got the joke.

Sam stepped up to Steve and Thor. "Why don't you two go ahead? We're only timing Spidey against himself, so it's not like there's an official start or anything. Just ten quick laps, okay?"

Steve and Thor looked at Spider-Man getting a pep talk from Tony Stark. He looked pleased to be done with the treadmill. It was a beautiful, sunny autumn day. The air was crisp with just enough chill to encourage physical activity, but not enough to be uncomfortable while standing still. As long as you didn't stand in the shade.

The two men looked at each other, shrugged, took off at what was an easy pace for them, sprinters' speeds for Olympic level athletes. They established long ago that Steve running for good cardio could keep pace with Thor being lazy, but there was just no contest when Thor put any effort into it. Neither of them assigned any great significance or meaning to it. Asgardians were naturally stronger and faster than humans, and Thor's powers set him well beyond the average Asgardian. It was important to know a teammate's physical capabilities, so no one on the team held back in training.

But they couldn't talk if one (Thor) was outpacing the other (Steve) eight laps to one. So they kept even with each other while they talked about a steak restaurant that was due to open just a few miles outside of Kingston, north of the facility, in a few weeks. None of the Avengers could go to any particular restaurant very often without drawing unwanted attention, so the team was always eager to find a new place they could visit a couple-few times before anyone caught on. They were debating the finer points of loaded baked potatoes when Spider-Man breezed past them with a too-casual, "On your left."

Thor looked at Steve. "Did young Spider-Man just pass us?"

Steve looked back at the knot of teammates and other observers. Several people were cheering, and Sam was doubled over. "Yes he did."

"Are we going to let that stand?"

"No we are not."

They locked eyes for a few steps, then both poured on the speed.

From where the observers stood, they could see Steve's pace double, and Thor appeared to have been shot from a cannon. When Thor tapped Spider-Man on the shoulder as he passed, his speed also appeared to double in response. Clint and Sam moved everyone completely clear of the path; Thor had enough velocity and mass to slam completely through reinforced concrete when he got up to speed. When the Asgardian passed them, hair and clothing fluttered in his wake.

Each of them ran ten laps, five miles.

Thor finished in three minutes. He could have run much faster, but he wasn't actually showing off, and he didn't want to tear up the jogging trail. But Thor couldn't resist sliding to a stop at the end, leaving parallel skids in the dirt track. He gladly accepted two bottles of water from Clint and Rhodey, downing one quickly and savoring the other.

Spider-Man came in at just over six minutes, breathing hard. Natasha handed him a bottle of water and a small towel. Bruce warned him not to drink too much water too quickly, so Spider-Man lifted his mask over his nose, took two large swallows and poured the rest on his exposed face. He bent over, hands braced on his knees, looked up at Thor. "You! Are! Really! Fast!"

Steve insisted on completing his laps, which surprised no one. He finished in ten minutes. Not his best time by a long shot, but nearly twice as fast as the official world record. He also drank sparingly of the offered water, also rested with his hands on his knees. He looked up at Sam. "'On your. Left'?" he panted.

Everyone laughed. Of course they all knew the story. Sam told it more than once, and each time he told it Steve lapped him more times than the last. Steve stood straight, a wide smile on his face.

Sam suddenly grabbed Spider-Man around the shoulders and pulled him over. "C'mon, man, do the other one! You promised."

Spider-Man looked at Steve, one lens of his mask open a bit wider than the other, his head cocked, his posture hesitant. Steve gave him a reassuring nod and a "let-me-have-it" gesture with both hands.

"Uhh... 'I could do this all day'?"

Steve laughed harder than all of them.