Chapter Text
January 21, 2017
"I thought we agreed that random hookups are allowed on the 69th floor only!" Tony screeched to the room in general. He pointed an accusatory finger at the petite blonde woman in sunglasses relaxing on the couch between Clint and Steve.
"It's me, Tony." Natasha slid the shades down her nose to fix him with a look of cool disdain. "And the only one who agreed to that plan was you, because you're the only one who needs it. We're not touching that floor with a ten-foot pole, we all know what you've done there."
"I don't," Steve said. "And please don't tell me."
"What are you all sitting around for?"
"I suppose you forgot what today is?"
"No, I remember, it's the day after the Cheeto's inauguration. That's why I have these." Tony hoisted two handles of whiskey, one in each hand.
"Are you sure that's not just Saturday?" Natasha rolled her eyes. Clint grunted agreement.
"Don't hate, you're just sitting around too."
"No, we're getting ready to go to the Women's March. Need a hat?" Clint produced a cardboard box of bright pink knitted hats.
"Pussyhats! My favorite thing! And hats too!" Tony grabbed the box, stuck his entire face in and wallowed. "So... soft..."
"Stop perving on the hats, Tony, they're for everyone, and I don't really have to explain why this is inappropriate on today of all days, do I?" Natasha yanked the box away, but not before Tony managed to grab a handful.
"All I'm saying is they're nice. Did you make them?"
Natasha gave Tony a flat stare. "Let me guess, I must have made them because I'm the woman."
"I made them," Steve said, also staring at Tony.
"You can knit?"
"Learned in the war. We needed all the warm clothes we could get. And it's not like we had smartphones for downtime."
"I guess Peggy Carter taught you?" Tony never met a hole he couldn't dig deeper.
"No, Bucky!" Steve took the box from Natasha and moved it to a shelf too high for Tony to reach. Under his leather jacket he was wearing a pink t-shirt with the words BELIEVE WOMEN in bold print. "I should get going -- I'm taking the train to D.C. to meet up with Sam. He invited me to march with him and his friend Joe."
"You don't need to take the train. That's what I have private jets for."
"The train is fine, Tony, I don't need a private jet--"
"Nay! You must take Air Mjolnir!" Thor bounced down the hall, twirling his hammer and giggling. "Air Mjolnir!"
Bruce and Loki followed behind Thor, carrying large boxes of envelopes. "I beseech you, please tell him that joke is not funny," Loki begged. Everyone ignored him.
"You're marching in Washington too, Thor?"
"Aye! I am accompanying the fair Jane to march for women! I very much hope that some 'neckbeard' will have a problem with it that I might teach him a lesson!"
"Um." Steve was trying to look unconcerned and failing. "How much do you know about this march, Thor?"
"It is for the defending of women and involves smiting!"
"Well... sort of... we'll talk on the way there, okay?"
Natasha and Clint were whispering on the couch. "Come on, it'll be fun..." Natasha cooed.
"No," Clint replied.
"I'll give you two-to-one odds."
"Still no."
"Five to one?"
"Do I look stupid?"
"Ten to one and that's my final offer."
"Fine. I do look stupid. I can just tell I'm going to regret this. Fuck." Clint grimaced but still shook hands with Natasha. "You marching, Bruce?"
"About that..." Bruce bounced on the balls of his feet. "I'd love to go, really I would, I believe it's important, but I just don't think it's a good idea... I mean, crowds, and counterprotesters, and angry people, and cars, that can be picked up, and thrown... I think it's really just best for everyone if I stay at the tower."
"All right! Science Bros ride again! Blow shit up! I'll get the phosphorous."
"Not today, Tony. Since I can't march, I'm going to spend the day stuffing envelopes. We're starting with the ACLU."
"We...?"
"Yeah, Loki's helping me."
"...You recruited Tall Dark and Megalomanical? To stuff envelopes?"
"I assure you I am merely allowing the good doctor to bribe me with pizza and Netflix," Loki sniffed, setting his box of envelopes down..
"Yeah, but if we can get through the ones for Planned Parenthood and the Natural Resources Defense Council before everyone else gets back, I'll even spring for ice cream."
Loki's eyebrows went up and his eyes darted from side to side. He pointed at the box of envelopes Bruce was holding. An arc of green light shot from his fingertip and the envelopes started stuffing themselves.
"Hey! That's cheating."
Bruce sighed. "No, Tony, voter suppression is cheating. This is using your resources wisely." His eyes lit up. "We're going to need more envelopes."
"They also serve who only stand and wait," Steve murmured.
"Ah, Shakespeare. " Tony looked very pleased with himself.
"John Milton. There's more than one poet in the English language, you know..." Steve rubbed his temples. He tried not to think about the reading he'd been going to catch up on on the train but now he was going to have to spend the trip down trying to explain the nuances of the Women's March to a Norse god who never met a statement he couldn't interrupt and that definitely wasn't going to leave him any time to get in the frame of mind to make a good impression on his best friend's other best friend. Today was not off to a great start.
"I guess that makes you part of the resistance," Tony said to Loki, dropping a hat onto his head. It was too big and slid down to his nose. Tony selected his own more carefully; it fit perfectly. "Ooooh, swanky."
"It's fair-trade sustainably farmed Mongolian cashmere," Steve said. "Life's too short to knit with bad yarn."
The elevator doors slid open and Agent Phil Coulson stepped out. "Good morning."
Tony yelped. "Why are you in my tower? Did I invite you to my tower?"
"No. I did," Natasha said.
"Speaking of," Clint said, "where's--"
Agent Maria Hill picked that exact moment to drop in out of the ceiling, knees bent, arms splayed, guns aimed. Tony let out a shriek, then made a half-assed attempt to conceal it. "AAAAAAAIIIEEEAgent Hill! How nice to see you and stay the fuck out of my air ducts, that's where Clint keeps his snacks."
"Agent Hill is always welcome to my snacks," Clint said.
Coulson raised an eyebrow at Hill. She rolled her eyes at him.
"I still don't understand why all you people are in my tower!" Tony wailed.
"There's two of them, that's not exactly a mob," Steve said.
"It is when they're these particular two!"
"Slow your roll, Tony," Agent Hill said with another eyeroll. "We'll be leaving as soon as we get our story straight."
"Story? Oooooh. You're gonna go protest, aren't you. I thought federal employees weren't supposed to do that."
"We're appropriating the old 'don't ask, don't tell' federal policy. A policy you would do well to follow." Agent Hill clapped Tony on the back, hard. Tony wheezed. "And before you start in with 'I'll tell Fury'" -- Hill was frighteningly good at imitating Tony when he was whining -- "Fury's incommunicado, and Coulson's in charge."
"I suppose that's one way of putting it," Coulson said.
"I believe his exact words were 'fuck this, this is bullshit, I'm going to go play golf with Ma'am, I'm not taking my phone, you motherfuckers try not to get arrested, if you do go cry to Coulson or something because I don't give a fuck.'" Apparently Hill had also been working on her Nick Fury impersonation.
"He blew you off to go play golf with his mom?" Tony began to snicker. "And he calls her 'mum'? He always struck me as more the 'moms' type."
"Is that racist? That sounds racist." Bruce dragged his gaze away from the flying envelopes to give Tony his best glare of disapproval. Loki scowled and raised his free hand. Golden sparks shot from his index finger as envelopes from the extra box started flying. Loki even made the envelopes dance around each other until he was satisfied that he was once again the sole center of Bruce's attention.
"Not 'mum,' 'Ma'am' pronounced the British way," Natasha said, just as Clint started whistling "God Save the Queen."
"...That Ma'am? Queen of England ma'am? Get out. Why didn't I know about this?"
"What part of classified don't you understand? I should probably kill you right now just to be safe." Natasha said.
"It's more of an open secret these days," Hill said. "When Fury literally can't even with the American government, he goes to the one person he trusts not to rat him out for treasonous speech. They'll play a lot of golf, have tea, he'll cry on her shoulder and then they'll polish off a few bottles of gin. He'll show up sometime next week with a killer hangover but back to regular grumpy instead of threatening to resign. I just hope he actually left his phone at home like she told him to, I can't deal with the drunk texts."
"How long has this been going on?"
"As long as I've been around," Coulson said. "Far longer than that, probably."
"How did they meet? Security detail?"
"Something like that," Coulson mumbled.
"Princess Anne still calls him 'the one that got away,'" Hill said.
"Now that is still classified," Natasha said.
"I don't know why, can you imagine what it would do for her popularity?" Hill produced a packet out of her back pocket and started munching on the contents. "Okay, enough spilling state secrets. Let's get this story together."
"I see you found the pork rinds," Clint said. "Excellent choice."
"Let's keep it simple, people," Coulson said. "I'm thinking poker night in Prague."
"Which one was that?" Clint asked.
"Coulson cleaned us all out and you lost your shirt," Hill said.
"That always happens. Be more specific."
"You threw your pants out the window so Coulson couldn't have them, then decided you might have left your lucky arrowhead in the pocket and tried to climb out the window to get them and I had to punch you in the face to distract you," Natasha said.
A wide smile spread over Clint's face; his laugh lines emerged past the edges of his sunglasses. "Eastern Europe has the best booze."
"Okay, if anyone asks we spent today on the 45th floor playing poker," Coulson said. "Make sure you don't get caught on camera and meet back here at 18:00 so we can make sure the bruises match."
"Wait," Tony said. "I can guess what these three are going to do, but what about you, Agent Coulson?"
Coulson smiled. "You'll never know."
"Well now I understand where Blondie came from," Tony said. "Where's your disguise, Legolas?"
"Don't need one. People only recognize me if I'm standing next to her."
Steve looked around the room. Thor had gotten bored and was still twirling his hammer. Loki's envelope magic was improbably still keeping Bruce entranced. Nat, Clint, and Hill were checking their gear; Coulson had pulled a pen out of his pocket and was checking to make sure it would write, which Steve supposed was his version of checking his gear. And Tony was starting to get that hangdog expression he got sometimes when he realized he wasn't the center of attention.
Yep, this was his team.
"Avengers disassemble, and let's be careful out there, okay?"