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Legends

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Private Dining Room.

The place buzzed with quiet conversation as the uncles and aunts savored Greek wine and appetizers around the elegantly set table.

Suddenly, the soft padding of paws caught everyone's attention. Bounding into the room, Sneg's foam Pegasus wings bobbed with each eager stride, his tail wagging like a joyful metronome.

Pepper's face lit up. "They're here!"

As always, the dog made a beeline for her first, leaning into her hand with obvious delight while she scratched his thick white fur. "Hi, big boy. Gosh, you look perfect."

"Man, he's huge," Tony quipped.

"Won't he stop growing?" Bruce asked.

"I think he's done now," the strawberry-blonde mused, adjusting the position of his wings. "JARVIS?"

"Sneg is currently 2 years and 1 month old, Mrs. Stark," the AI responded smoothly. "He reached his adult weight of 176 pounds at 20 months and has remained stable since. He stands 34 inches tall at the shoulder. His thick coat gives him a softer appearance, but he has a well-developed muscular build, thanks to his daily exercise regimen. His health is excellent, with activity levels typical for his breed and age, but he may gain a bit more muscle mass as he matures."

"He's Cap's dog, right?" the Doctor chuckled, letting him sniff his outstretched hand.

"Obviously," the Genius replied with a smirk, patting his massive forehead.

"How can you be so adorable?" Betty teased warmly, scratching behind his ears as Sneg rested his broad chin on her lap. "You're just a gentle giant."

Then, his keen nose caught a familiar scent, and with casual confidence, he made his way to the buffet. Nudging solid wood chairs aside like they weighed nothing, the dog stopped beside Anna and sat with surprising calm. The chef had long since taught him not to touch her unless invited — a rule he obeyed with quiet expectation, hovering near the table's edge, dark eyes fixed on her.

The petite woman glanced down with a knowing smile, shaking her head fondly as she pulled a small bag of treats from her apron pocket. "Oh, I see you, you big charmer," she teased, reaching for a small plate. "Freshly baked Halloween biscuits just for you. Pumpkin and peanut butter — your favorite."

Sneg sat perfectly still, wings fluttering slightly as his tail thumped softly against the wooden floor. Once she placed the plate down and gave the command, he devoured the treats with obvious satisfaction.

"The mini polar bear has you wrapped around his paw," Tony smirked from his seat.

"He does, and he knows it," Anna replied, a grin tugging at her lips as she placed packets of sanitizing wipes around the table. "Here you go," she said, ensuring everyone could clean up after petting the dog and before handling the babies.

Moments later, the fathers stepped into view, each cradling his son, effortlessly drawing every gaze. The room instantly erupted into a collective aww.

Snuggled securely in Steve's arms, James blinked sleepily, his tired eyes fluttering as though debating whether to stay awake. Francis, meanwhile, clutched one of Clint's foam heart-tipped arrows, bright blue eyes wide with curiosity as he took in the world from the safety of his father's hold.

Trailing behind them, Natasha and Bobbi pushed strollers in perfect sync, their serene expressions reflecting shared pride.

The doting aunts immediately rose, their faces lighting up as the babies captured every ounce of their attention, everything else fading into the background.

Reaching the Bartons first, Betty held out a plush Pegasus toy wobbling slightly in her hands. "Hi, little Cupid! Look what I have for you," she said softly, delighting as Francis's gaze locked onto the toy with rapt interest. He released the arrow and stretched out his little arms, intent clear.

"No bribing my son!" Clint complained playfully as he passed the baby into her arms.

"Hi Frankie! You're absolutely adorable," Pepper swooned, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his chubby cheek. Her gaze then shifted, softening further as it landed on her godson. "And you, my little Hercules! Do you want to come to Mommy Hera?" She also wiggled a stuffed Pegasus in her hand, bouncing it playfully.

But it was no use. The redhead baby blinked once more, long lashes brushing his cheeks as tiny fingers curled instinctively. A soft sigh escaped him as he surrendered to exhaustion.

Adjusting his son in his arms, Steve smiled gently. "He was wide awake in the hallway, but now he's fighting it. He'll perk up again soon."

Now holding Francis, Betty cooed at James, brushing her fingers over his foot. "Hi, Jamie." But little Hercules didn't stir, resting peacefully against his father's broad chest.

As the group made their way to the table, Tony crossed his arms, adopting a theatrical stance. "Well, look who finally decided to grace us with their presence. Couldn't resist the lure of godhood, huh?"

The Soldier smiled, his tone low and warm. "Someone told me a little fun never hurts."

"It's not so bad, right?" Clint added, standing between Steve with James and Betty with Francis, proudly showcasing their matching parent-child ensembles.

The Genius grinned, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Wow. Cupid, straight out of a Hallmark commercial. Told you this was your calling — just gotta hold tight until next Valentine's Day."

"Ah! So that's what this is about?" The Archer chuckled, recalling the day he'd shot a rubber band at Stark's behind after being called Cupid. "Payback, huh?"

"Best served cold," Tony quipped before shifting his attention to the Soldier. "And Herc! Let me guess — Disney's on the line? If patrolling the world doesn't pan out, you could always go back to dancing on stage. Seriously, you guys look disturbingly made for these roles."

Clint snorted, barely bothering to hide his indifference, while Steve shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Taking a step forward, the Genius stood before the two mothers and bowed with exaggerated reverence. "But these two goddesses — straight out of mythology."

"You're not looking bad yourself, Santa," Natasha teased, one brow arched as she appraised the thick white hair, beard, and padded chest exposed by Zeus's one-shoulder tunic.

"Guess it's summer in the North Pole, huh?" Bobbi added with a grin.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony rolled his eyes, stroking his white Zeus beard. "Blame my wife's designer for making the costumes too realistic."

"If we're going to be gods, we might as well look the part," Pepper said breezily, twirling lightly as her pink dress fluttered elegantly around her.

"You look gorgeous as always, Pepper," Steve said sincerely. "And so do you, Betty."

"Goddesses indeed," Clint agreed, grinning wide.

As greetings and compliments flowed freely, the women gathered together, admiring their outfits and accessories, reveling in the joy of the event.

Personifying the god of the underworld, Bruce leaned toward the fathers with mischievous curiosity and asked provocatively, "So, who caved first? Or are you both just going to admit you had to obey the missus?"

"Careful, Hades," Natasha warned with a slow, dangerous smirk. "Dig too deep, and you might unleash something even the other guy can't handle."

Indeed, Hawkeye had had enough.

Before the Doctor could ask what exactly she meant, Clint stepped forward, ready to command the room. "Behold! The god of love and desire is here for you all!" he declared with exaggerated flair. Planting one toned leg on a nearby chair, struck a pose, purple bow and foam heart-tipped arrow in hand. With an impish grin, he flexed his arms — muscles taut and well-defined — and pretended to fire into the air.

On cue, JARVIS projected a cascade of red hearts onto the walls, complete with flashing Applause signs and the sound of cheers. Though considerate of the little ones, the sound was just loud enough to prompt Steve to instinctively pull a sleepy James closer, gently covering his ear. The baby stirred briefly before settling again, lulled by the steady rhythm of his father's heartbeat.

"Thank you, thank you! I know you love me… I know you want me," Clint teased, voice dripping with over-the-top charm as he soaked in the attention.

Then, with a sudden dramatic shift, he turned toward his wife and dropped to one knee. Taking her hand with reverence, he looked up with genuine passion. "But alas, this Eros' heart has long been claimed by the goddess of my soul — my one true love, my wife Psyche."

Bobbi's initial amusement gave way to emotion as his words struck home. Her breath caught, warmth flooding her face. "Clint," she whispered, voice unsteady.

Without missing a beat, he swept her into his arms and dipped her in a flourish, sealing the moment with a bold kiss. If there had been any lingering doubt about his passion — not that there was — it vanished completely.

The room erupted in whistles and applause as he basked in his triumph. James grumbled softly, only to be soothed by his father's gentle touch.

One thing was always certain — Hawkeye never missed. Initially hesitant to don the playful, almost ridiculous costume, once Clint committed, he hit the target with his usual precision. By fully leaning into the role, he left no room for teasing, ensuring the spotlight remained firmly his — on his own terms.

Between the Archer and the Genius, it was hard to say who was cockier.

"The guy's having way too much fun," Tony muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Prank backfired, bro," Bruce deadpanned, shrugging as the gray himation shifted fluidly with the motion.

Behind him, his wife held Francis, her amusement evident. With a triumphant tug, the blond baby yanked off Hades' bright blue wig, babbling proudly as he waved it in the air.

"Ma-ma-ma!" His small voice rang out above the chatter.

"Oops!" Betty chuckled, quickly passing him back to his mother.

Bobbi scooped him up with a soft laugh. "Come on, love. Let's give Uncle Bruce his hair back."

Thinking fast, Clint waved Pain and Panic plush dolls. "Hey, champ — check out Hades' guys!" Instantly distracted, Francis dropped the wig in favor of his new prize. Then, he wrapped his arms around both his wife and son in a warm embrace. Her cheeks still slightly pink, she held their baby close, feeling cherished as both her boys wrapped their arms around her.

Ever the picture of poise, Natasha breezed past Tony, giving him a knowing pat on the back. "Dads, one. Uncles, zero," she quipped, tossing her wig-enhanced ponytail with an exaggerated flourish. Her Megara impression was spot-on, and her knack for keeping the boys in check? Legendary.

Chuckles rippled through the room as she deftly parked the stroller near the table.

"Hey, who's counting?" Bruce protested as Betty adjusted his wig.

Tony threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Who said this was a competition?"

Calmly standing beside his wife, who was arranging their baby's space in the stroller, Steve responded, "Don't worry. It's not."

His noble intention, however, was immediately twisted by Pepper, who couldn't resist poking fun at the meddling uncles — her husband in particular.

"Of course not, Steve. Who could be more perfect to embody the mighty god of strength and heroes? No competition whatsoever," she added, waving her hand dismissively, her voice brimming with mischief as she threw Natasha a wink.

"You really didn't think it through, did you, geniuses?" The Redhead's lips curled into a sly smile as she spread her hands, as if presenting her husband's flawless stance. "Hercules."

The wine had softened Betty's usual shyness as she quoted one of the movie's Greek muses. "Honey, you mean Hunk-ules."

All the girls burst out laughing, even the normally reserved Anna.

Bobbi gasped, "That's… from the movie?"

"That's the gooospel truth," the brunette sang, her voice mixing with the giggles around her.

While the women continued to laugh, the men rolled their eyes — except for Steve, who hid his shy smile, gently rocking James. He'd mastered the art of staying quiet to avoid being roped into games he never quite understood. Still, he'd also learned that Natasha and the other girls were simply having fun — at the boys' expense.

The sound carried Pepper back to the old days when the Tower had only two women — and they often teamed up to mess with the boys. Tony's ego made him an easy target, and she especially enjoyed making her then-boyfriend jealous — fair payback for enduring 12 years as the womanizer playboy's overworked assistant. Her safest strategy had always been to praise the Captain, whose complete lack of vanity and politely baffled reactions guaranteed there'd be no drama.

Her partner in crime, the Spy, had joined in without hesitation, never missing a chance to stir the pot, especially with the egocentric billionaire. Back then, she was already dating her Soldier and wanted to see how he'd handle being the object of female attention — particularly from a real, intelligent, and attractive woman like Pepper, not just his overzealous fans. True to form, he'd always been nothing but a gentleman.

These days, the babies' arrival had mellowed their antics, but moments like this proved the Redhead hadn't lost her edge, even as she busied herself being a mother.

Tony scowled at them, but he knew better than to take the bait. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, waving them off as he dropped into a chair. Bruce stayed conspicuously quiet, silently hoping his wife's newfound confidence wouldn't lead her to join the banter on a regular basis.

Pepper and Natasha exchanged a knowing glance, savoring the moment. Teasing Tony with an 'oblivious' Steve never got old.

There was no denying the effect the original Captain America had on people. At 6'2", with a perfectly sculpted V-shaped frame, chiseled features, and an air of effortless masculinity, he didn't need to be dressed as an Olympian god to embody the ideal man. But now, with his tiny baby cradled securely in his powerful arms, he redefined what it meant to be dreamy. Yet it wasn't just his striking appearance that held everyone's attention. It was the quiet humility in every action, never swayed by fame or adulation, and the unwavering focus on his family. The effortless grace with which he embraced the role of a devoted father made him truly magnetic.

Carefully, Steve laid his sleeping baby onto the soft cushions, his large hands gentle yet precise. The tender scene drew a collective sigh from the room, though the father himself hardly noticed.

Natasha couldn't take her eyes off her man as he sat by her side. Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips, their eyes locking with a warmth that spoke volumes.

As soon as James was settled with Stark sound-canceling headphones specially designed for babies, Sneg padded over, his movements purposeful and steady. The massive dog sat alert beside the stroller, his watchful eyes fixed on the sleeping baby.

"Look at Sneg," Betty whispered, her voice filled with quiet awe. "How cute."

Ever cautious, Bruce tilted his head. "Is it okay for him to be this close?"

"He does this all the time," Natasha smiled gently. "Whenever James naps, Sneg stands guard. It's like he thinks it's his job to keep watch. He was drawn to James from day one, always very gentle. We couldn't have asked for better."

"With Francis too," Bobbi added as she settled her son into a highchair with soft cushions. "Even when he clutches his fur tightly, Sneg just stands there like a saint. So patient, until Francis lets go. A total sweetheart."

Pepper melted at the sight. "He's a protector."

The chef approached with a tray of drinks, offering non-alcoholic options to the breastfeeding mothers and wine to the fathers. Her gaze softened as she glanced at Sneg. "Yes, he's truly a softy."

"Did he bother you much, Anna?" Steve asked, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry I wasn't paying enough attention earlier — but he was glued to you."

Clint grinned, raising his glass of wine. "Fatherhood does that to you."

But the young woman shook her head quickly. "Not at all, Cap. You'd think he'd cause chaos near food, especially for his size, but you raised him right."

"That's good to know," the Soldier exhaled, relieved. "We had a lot of help and training from the breeder."

"It was worth it. He's unbelievably well-behaved. I guess that's why I adore him so much."

"It's mutual, Anna," Natasha beamed with pride. "Just saying your name gets him jumping everywhere."

The room filled with warm laughter as the group toasted and shared stories, the delicious scent of the Greek feast blending with the comforting aroma of wine, wrapping everyone in an atmosphere of contentment. Anna's shy smile grew with every compliment she received. When it was finally time for her well-earned break, she settled onto the floor to play with Sneg, wagging his tail happily beside her.

Francis explored his tray of baby-friendly snacks, but when James woke up for a feeding, the little Cupid immediately demanded his mommy too. After nursing and tending to the babies in a specially adapted bathroom-turned nursery, the mothers rejoined the group on the sofas across the room. With the youngest guest now alert enough, the long-anticipated photo shoot began — after all, that had been the main reason for the party.

The group began acting out playful scenes from the Hercules movie, which played continuously on a nearby screen. Zeus and Hera beamed proudly, baby Hercules nestled in their arms, with Pegasus obediently posing beside them. Clint's earlier boldness seemed to have rubbed off on Steve, who surprised Natasha by striking romantic postures. Mommy Psyche held baby Eros, complete with tiny arrows to 'hit' Megara, who was gallantly courted by Hercules. The little ones cooed and gurgled, their innocent sounds blending harmoniously with the laughter of those who had long become family.

James, now awake and full of energy, was soon shaking two plush toys of villains — a snarling Hydra and a scowling Nessus, the centaur — as if defeating them with baby determination. Francis hugged a soft Phil doll, the satyr trainer, his tiny hands gripping his tuft of wild hair. The spirited play fueled more laughter and cheers from the adults, who couldn't resist joining in.

The entire group posed together, snapping countless photos with the babies until the little ones grew tired. Once Francis and James were both blissfully asleep, each one with their own headphones, their parents seized the rare opportunity to relax and indulge in some lighthearted fun. And that's when the real party began.

Creativity flourished as Hades, dramatically 'shot' by a Cupid arrow, collapsed at his Persephone's feet, before Zeus challenged his brother to a mock boxing match. Hera wielded her husband's thunderbolt, and he defended himself with Hercules' shield. Dressed as Demeter, the goddess of harvest and agriculture, Anna posed while skillfully keeping everyone's glasses full. The girls got together to sing the film's songs as the muses, and the boys did various poses of the heroes.

Inspired by the movie scene where Hercules carried Megara, all the wives insisted on reenacting it amid bursts of laughter. The forty-somethings — Bruce, Tony, and Clint — instantly grew competitive. Despite the geniuses' determined efforts, the athletic Archer triumphed, lifting Bobbi higher and steadier than the others managed with their partners.

"Dads, two. Uncles, zero!" Cupid declared triumphantly, earning playful boos and cheers alike.

Then, all eyes shifted toward the Super-Soldier.

"Come on, son," Zeus goaded, his mischievous grin matching his tone. "Show us what you've got."

Steve opened his mouth to refuse but paused when Natasha stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with joyful mischief. Her daring grin challenged him to join the fun. Smiling softly, he relented and hoisted her effortlessly above his head with just one hand. Ever graceful, she extended into a flawless ballet pose, toes pointed elegantly as applause and whistles filled the room. He lowered her gently to the floor, earning even more cheers.

"Alright, Anna, your turn!" The Spy invited with a playful wink.

The chef froze, clearly hesitant. "Can I really?" she asked shyly, though excitement sparkled in her eyes.

"Absolutely. Only if you're comfortable," the Soldier assured, extending a steady hand.

"She's a yoga master," the Redhead added with confidence.

Buoyed by their encouragement, the young woman stepped forward, shaking off her nerves. Steve also lifted her easily, and she instinctively struck an elegant yoga-inspired pose. Taking the chance, Natasha seized her husband's free hand and pushed herself up beside Anna, balancing with practiced ease.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze — the great Hercules holding two graceful figures aloft, framed by the idyllic Greek scenery projected on the walls. Then, cheers erupted, laughter spilling through the hall as the two women leaped effortlessly to the floor, their joy blending with the revelry around them.

Breathless and overwhelmed, the chef hugged the Spy tightly before turning to the Soldier, her eyes shining. "That was awesome, Cap! Thank you so much!" she gushed. "Best day ever!"

Steve's lips quirked into a soft smile. "You did great," he said warmly, brushing off any praise for himself.

Moments like this reminded the heroes how meaningful simple joys were for regular people — grounding them and rekindling their sense of purpose. His gaze lingered on his wife, gratitude shining clearly in his expression.

Breaking the reflective mood with a triumphant shout, Clint shot his hand into the air, fingers waving enthusiastically. "That's three — no, wait, four — zero!"

Bruce shook his head with a laugh while Tony threw his hands up in mock defeat. "No fair! He could carry all of us at once!"

"Can you?" Bobbi asked, curiosity glinting in her eyes.

"Nope," Steve replied briskly, shaking his head with a firm finality as he made a beeline for the couch before anyone could suggest more feats of strength. As Natasha nestled beside him, he draped an arm around her shoulders — though it was clear he was the one seeking refuge.

The others followed, laughter still bubbling as the playful energy lingered like an old friend refusing to leave.

Ever the scientist, Betty leaned forward, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. Having contributed to Bruce's serum and later being part of the team responsible for thawing Captain America, she was one of the few living experts with rare insight into the creation of the legendary Super-Soldier. Though far from fully understanding its mysteries — successful replication remained elusive even after decades — her knowledge set her apart. "Well, when I was studying your serum, Cap, I came across a few interesting things in the Smithsonian archives."

The Spy, who had spent years poring over classified SHIELD files on her now-husband, tilted her head. "What things?"

"War tales," her Soldier muttered, his voice low, clearly wishing to change the subject.

"Sounds promising," the Doctor perked up, leaning forward.

Encouraged, the Biologist pressed on. "Is it true that you once held a five-ton pine tree to save a group of soldiers?"

"I read that too," Natasha added, her sharp gaze turning toward Steve.

"They couldn't have known how much it weighed," he deflected awkwardly, shifting under the attention.

"Crushed their Jeep," Betty pointed out, arching a brow.

Skeptical as always, Tony called, "JARVIS?"

The AI responded without hesitation. "Based on the reported structural damage, the tree likely weighed between 4.7 and 5 tons."

Bruce let out a low whistle. "That's impressive."

"The Jeep was only dented," the Soldier insisted, shaking his head in dismissal.

Crossing his arms, the Genius huffed dramatics. "Y'know, Cap, we've known each other for years, and I still don't know what's real or exaggerated. I feel cheated."

The teasing lilt in Tony's voice was unmistakable, though there was enough sincerity to make Steve pause. He rolled his eyes, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

Sensing an opportunity, Bobbi smirked. "Well, I heard Fury once said you can bench-press a Toyota."

"That rumor's still around," Clint nodded, amused.

"Coulson said the same thing," the Redhead confirmed, her tone light but intrigued. "Did you do it?"

"No," Steve clarified. "Cars aren't made for that. Tell them, JARVIS."

"Bench-pressing a vehicle, such as a Toyota, would be challenging due to uneven weight distribution," the AI stated matter-of-factly. "It differs significantly from lifting a barbell."

The Soldier raised his palm in a half-hearted shrug. "I'm not the Hulk."

Interested, the Doctor narrowed his eyes. "So… how much can you really handle?"

Caught off guard, Steve blinked. "I… I don't know." He honestly hoped he'd never need to find out.

Quickly, the Genius cut in. "Well, I do. I built that robotic spotter for you because you bench 2,200 pounds and lift 800 overhead."

A few heads turned in surprise.

"You curl 500 pounds too," the Archer added helpfully.

Natasha's gaze gleamed with quiet pride. "But that's just your warm-up, right?"

The training wasn't about pushing limits — just staying in peak condition. Shifting uncomfortably under their expectant stares, her husband admitted reluctantly, "It's… for maintenance." Steve wouldn't lie, but he could sometimes omit the truth — just never from her.

Tony snorted. "If that's just maintenance, what does showing off look like?"

Amused, Clint shook his head. "And the thing is, he never shows off."

Eyebrows lifting, the Spy smirked. "Unlike you two, huh?" Her eyes darted between the Archer and the Genius. Both squinted in mock offense as their wives giggled.

Keeping the conversation rolling, Bobbi asked, "JARVIS, how much does a Toyota weigh?"

"Depending on the model, it ranges from 2,850 to 3,690 pounds, Mrs. Barton."

"Lighter than that pine tree," Betty remarked with a knowing smile.

"Exactly," Tony mused smugly. "Add 325 pounds per side, and voilà — Toyota weight."

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe that's what Fury meant,"

Surprise flickered across Pepper's face. "Wait… so Steve can actually lift a car?"

Before the Soldier could speak, Clint waved a hand dismissively. "Oh sure. Always moves 'em around during missions."

Savoring the moment, the Genius grinned wickedly. "Forget movers, honey. Just call Cap."

The Biologist grinned. "And a motorcycle with three dancers on top, JARVIS?"

"An average cruiser motorcycle weighs around 600 to 800 pounds, Mrs. Banner. Assuming each dancer weighed approximately 150 pounds, the total would range between 1,050 and 1,250 pounds."

Pepper mock-scolded, "JARVIS! Never talk about a woman's weight."

A ripple of laughter followed, only amplified when the AI responded in its usual calm tone. "My apologies, Mrs. Stark." That made the group laugh even harder.

Listening carefully to every word, Anna couldn't hold back. "Isn't that from the Captain America movie? The USO shows? So… did that really happen?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Steve sighed. "Yeah. We were selling war bonds."

Natasha leaned in, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Wires?"

"No. Wires would've been visible to the audience," he explained sheepishly. "But the bike had reinforced supports to help balance the weight… y'know? To reduce the risk of tipping over."

Brow raised, Clint pressed further. "So it was even heavier?"

"Well, yeah — just for stability during the show."

Thoroughly entertained, Pepper mused with a grin, "You know what? That actually sounds like fun."

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Betty suggested, "Maybe we should try that next."

Without hesitation, the Soldier raised a firm hand. "Absolutely not."

Laughter erupted once again, filling the room with warm, lighthearted chaos.

"What else?" The Spy asked, her tone light.

Her husband shot her a look that unmistakably read, Don't encourage them.

But the Biologist's eyes twinkled instantly. "Ah. That you can run a mile in just over a minute."

Steve faltered, his breath catching briefly. Memories surged forward — carrying a wounded Bucky, racing against time, pushing himself beyond every conceivable limit. The weight of that day pressed against his chest. He swallowed hard, forcing it back down.

Natasha's brow creased with quiet concern. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, grounding him in the present.

He exhaled slowly. "Almost two," he said softly. Almost not enough.

Unaware of the undercurrent beneath his calm exterior, their friends carried on.

"That's still incredible," Bruce noted, reflecting the collective admiration in the room.

Tony leaned forward eagerly. "JARVIS, what's the record?"

"The world record for a mile is 3 minutes, 43.13 seconds, set in 1999 by Moroccan runner Hicham El Guerrouj."

Clint grinned, enjoying the banter. "So Cap's faster than Bolt?"

"Running a mile in 2 minutes, Mr. Roger's speed averages approximately 30 mph — surpassing Jamaican Usain Bolt's top speed of 27.8 mph during his 2009 world record sprint," the AI confirmed.

However, that wasn't a race the Soldier wanted to remember. He exhaled, shaking off old memories. But something gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. "Enough about me, JARVIS," he redirected firmly, his tone measured. Bucky was working today — Steve knew that. But someone else was missing. "You know who's really fast? Sam." His focus sharpened. "Where is he, anyway?"

The cheerful atmosphere dimmed as the group exchanged uneasy glances.

"Mr. Wilson is on the ground floor at Avengers Mall," the AI informed.

"He said he'd wait for the magician downstairs," Pepper added, her uncertainty creeping in. "He was supposed to set up the show for the babies."

"But that was like two hours ago," Tony muttered, suspicion threading through his tone. "JARVIS, call Sam."

"Right away, sir."

As they waited, a puzzled silence settled over the group, the lighthearted mood giving way to quiet curiosity.

.

Author's note: Thanks for reading! Writing is a solitary endeavor, a true labor of love. It's only through feedback that we can grow and find motivation. Your thoughts mean the world to me, so please leave a comment.

REFERENCES:

MARVEL COMICS:

Avengers: Roll Call Vol 1 (2012) #1 — Steve lifts 800 lbs.

Avengers Vol 1 (1978) #170 — [Hank McCoy] — Curls, with 500 pounds on the bar?

Captain America Vol 1 (1992) #402 — Steve bench pressed a total of 2,200 lbs as a warm-up.

Captain America: 65th Anniversary Special Vol 1 (2006) #1 — [Steve] I can run a mile in just over a minute.

Ultimates Vol 1 (2004) #13 — [Fury] The man who can bench-press a Toyota…

Ultimates 2 Vol 1 (2005) #5 — Steve stopped a 5-ton pine tree from falling on a group of soldiers.

MOVIES:

Hercules (1997) — [Muse] Honey, you mean "Hunk-ules. (…) That's the gospel truth.