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From January 2012
Title: Warn the neighbors
Author: marcicat
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3100
Summary: The Avengers are pretty sure they’re about to be fighting Loki, and there is considerable debate about proper superhero etiquette.
(Note: Mostly movie!verse, but heavily influenced by the animated ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.’ Also, I’m sure I’ve read the ‘indoor voice’ thing in someone else’s (surely awesome) fic, but it’s got to be one of those jokes that never really loses its funny, right?)
Title: Warn the neighbors
Author: marcicat
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3100
Summary: The Avengers are pretty sure they’re about to be fighting Loki, and there is considerable debate about proper superhero etiquette.
(Author’s Note: Mostly movie!verse, but heavily influenced by the animated ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.’ Also, I’m sure I’ve read the ‘indoor voice’ thing in someone else’s (surely awesome) fic, but it’s got to be one of those jokes that never really loses its funny, right?)
A Courtesy Call Is Always A Nice Gesture (Tony)
He wrapped up the explanation — Loki, Thor, slight possibility they’ll rip up most of New York as they work out their issues — and leaned back from the camera with a casual wave.
"So, that's the situation here, I wouldn't even have mentioned it, really, except there was the chance you'd spontaneously decide to come back early, or, well — Steve thought you might be watching the news."
Hank's expression was incredulous. "What? Tony — of course we're watching the news."
Jan leaned into the video feed. "He's lying; I haven't watched anything but celebrity gossip since we got here."
"Jan's following you online," Hank explained.
"Yeah, if you intersperse the official stuff SHIELD puts out with the amateur vids, it's awesome. Tell Natasha she looks fierce in the new uniform."
Tony's face contorted momentarily. "That's going to be a no, actually. If I told her that, she'd probably skewer me with a hair pin. Anyway, got to go; things to do and all that.”
***
Hank called back, of course. It was well after midnight in New York, but circadian rhythms didn’t mean much to any of them at that point.
"Have you told the Fantastic Four?" Hank asked without preamble.
"Do we have to?"
"Tony..."
"Yes, yes, of course we have. For certain definitions of the word yes, anyway. It's on the agenda of things to do, how about that?"
Personally, Tony was of the opinion that if Reed couldn't figure out what was going on outside his own windows, that wasn't the Avengers' fault, but he'd been outvoted.
Hank sighed. “I’m pretty sure it's within the realm of common courtesy to warn people when you're about to host a demi-god showdown in their city." He spoke with the tone of someone who wan't sure his audience was familiar with concepts like ‘common’ or ‘courtesy.’
"You could just tweet it," Jan suggested. “‘Recruited god of thunder. Lost brother not so lost after all. Apologies in advance to New York for upcoming Asgardian smackdown.’”
"That's less than 140 characters," she added.
"Did you seriously just send that to your followers?"
Jan looked shifty. "Maybe."
"Jan!"
"No, of course not. Well, just the Wakanda network."
Tony bit back a laugh. "Steve's meeting with Sue and Reed tomorrow. He's the most respectable out of all of us; I’m sure it will go fine.”
Hank looked like he was on the verge of sighing again. “Tony, you've worked with Reed,” he said.
Tony just raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, that's why I'm not doing it. Besides, Steve lost the coin toss fair and square. I got Daredevil instead."
"Didn't Daredevil call you a degenerate playboy who cast a cloud over the superhero community of New York?" Jan asked, all innocence.
“That was ages ago. Besides, he’s just jealous because I look better in red than he does," Tony said.
"He's blind,” Hank said. “I’m pretty sure he doesn't care what you look like."
"That just goes to show how much you know."
"What about Spiderman?" Jan said.
Tony sounded incredulous. "Oh, come on, he's not even in the running. Even Hank looks better in red then he does."
"Hey!"
"No, I mean who's warning Spiderman?"
Which was, in fact, a stickier question than it seemed like it really should have been (no pun intended). "We're still working on that," Tony said. "He's on the list."
***
Is Public Relations Singular Or Plural? (Steve)
When it came right down to it, no one seemed completely sure why Spiderman had such a bad reputation. Comparatively speaking, he caused nowhere near as much collateral damage as the Fantastic Four, and was significantly more family friendly than the Avengers. He didn't even have a vendetta, which seemed like it should at least have put him one up on Batman and the X-Men.
None of that changed the fact that in reality, Spiderman got more bad press than Magneto, and wasn’t keen on public appearances. Ever. Which meant that any friendly ‘heads up’ about Loki was going to take some maneuvering.
"The kid needs a good lawyer, and a better publicist," Natasha said dismissively. She’d voted against holding this meeting off SHIELD premises, but Tony had insisted and Bruce had backed him up. "Hypothetically speaking, of course.”
Clint shook his head. "He can't afford that kind of help. You know, in theory.”
"Why do you keep saying it that way?" Steve asked.
"Spiderman's identity is sort of still a secret,” Clint said. As an explanation, it lacked a certain expositive quality, and Steve looked to Tony for clarification.
“Officially, we don't know who Spiderman is, and neither does SHIELD," Tony said. “And he apparently wants it that way.”
He added, “Of course, unofficially, there's a 96% chance that JARVIS has correctly ID'd him as Peter Parker, struggling college student, but we pretend not to pry."
Bruce, who tended to remain silently present at these things, suddenly looked interested. "96%?" he asked.
"We can't completely rule out shapeshifters, image inducers, clones, or lifts in the boots," Tony said, ticking each one off on his fingers. "Each of those got one percent. But the X-Men won't claim him, so we're pretty sure JARVIS is right."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, sir,” JARVIS said, and it was always hard to tell with the accent, but he was pretty sure there was sarcasm mixed in with the tone.
Clint said, “Anyway, that’s why we can't just call him up on the phone.”
"I voted for email, actually,” Tony interjected, raising his hand.
"It's rude to barge in to someone's personal life with superhero business when they're trying to keep them separate." Natasha carefully avoided looking at Bruce when she spoke, and Bruce politely didn’t call her on it.
"There's a Code, apparently,” Tony said, ignoring both of them. “It’s a secret Code, of course, but you know if you break it because Natasha threatens to kill you with shaving cream."
"There's not a Code." Natasha glared Clint down when it looked like he might disagree.
"Really?" Steve asked.
Clint shrugged. “He just won't talk to us. It's like he's got radar or something. Every time we go looking for him, he's suddenly on the other side of the city. We could try to take him in, but Fury's eying him for recruitment someday, and we'd rather not start off on the wrong foot."
"Speak for yourself," Tony said. "Right now the guy's closest known ally is Daredevil, and that's like a cry for help right there. Daredevil hates everyone; he could give Batman a run for his money."
“Can we just ask Daredevil to tell him?”
“No go. ‘Closest ally’ just means they once worked together and didn’t try to kill each other; they’re not exactly exchanging greeting cards. As far as we know.”
“Do you know?”
Tony, Clint, and Natasha all looked suddenly and studiously disinterested. Good to know they had access to resources they didn’t care to share with the class. He met Bruce’s gaze across the table. “They found me,” Bruce offered. “They’d know.”
“Right,” Steve said. “So what are our options?”
Tony grinned. “Oh, I have an idea.”
***
Expect the Unexpected Is More Than A Cliche (Natasha)
The beeping didn’t wake her up, because she was already awake. Nothing like sending your teammates on an unsanctioned op to keep you up nights. It didn’t matter that it should have been a milk run; with Stark involved it was bound to end in trouble.
“What happened,” she said, already heading for the door.
“You’re not going to believe this,” came Stark’s voice over her earpiece. “Clint and Bruce just got busted by Batman.”
“What?” Steve asked. He met her in the corridor — he clearly hadn’t been sleeping either, and she wondered if Fury (or anyone) was ever going to call him on it. Maybe he didn’t need to sleep. “I thought Batman was based in Gotham; what’s he doing here?”
“How should I know? Maybe he’s on vacation, or something.” Stark sounded distracted, which probably meant he was doing at least two other things at the same time. Hopefully at least one of them was helpful.
Jan voice sounded as clear as Stark’s, despite the fact that she was thousands of miles away. “Check the bathroom! Wait, sorry, is this on? Tony, did you know these would work over here?”
“Obviously. Do we want to know what’s in the bathroom?”
“Oh, Hank lost his phone again. Do you guys need help? What’s going on?”
“Tony, where are you?” Steve asked.
“Lab. Fourth floor. It has the best acoustics; you know this. I’ve got eyes on our boys. The good news is, Bruce is meditating.”
“And the bad news?” Hank must have found his earpiece, or else he was just sharing Jan’s.
“Well, that would be that he’s doing it in a jail cell, surrounded by ten — no, wait, eleven, one of them’s just really short — other people.”
“Tony!”
“What? This plan one hundred percent should have worked.”
They took the stairs to the lab. Coulson was waiting outside the door when they arrived. Unlike the rest of them, he looked like he’d been roused from sleep. He raised his eyebrows and pushed himself away from the wall at their approach.
“Agent Coulson,” Steve said.
“What plan?” Coulson asked.
The door swung open. Stark waved from a bank of computer screens. “Nice pjs, Phil. Just trying to be neighborly. You know — team player, yada yada, all that stuff you’re always lecturing me about.”
“I don’t recall any lectures including the phrase ‘the team that gets arrested together, sticks together,’” Coulson said.
Natasha hid a smile. Coulson tended to save his sense of humor for times when he’d have plausible deniability. Apparently, this counted.
“I think Clint and Bruce are really bonding,” Stark insisted. On screen, Banner had his eyes closed and looked like he was winning the meditation battle, at least momentarily. Clint was standing between him and the rest of the cell’s occupants, arms crossed, glaring at the camera. Either he knew they could see him, or he just felt the need to stare something down and the camera was the safest choice.
“Did they accomplish the mission?” Steve asked.
“That’d be a no,” Stark said. “Though they also didn’t break cover, so in theory, someone could go bail them out, and they could try again.”
Everyone looked at Coulson. “What?” he said.
“There’s a reason none of us were out there to begin with,” Steve said, somehow managing to sound both confident and abashed.
“Yeah, have you seen Steve try to be subtle? The only thing he could possibly go undercover as would be a really badly disguised undercover cop.” Coulson looked like he was trying not to laugh, or possibly like he was about to tase someone. “Pepper said she’d donate all my cars to PETA if I got arrested again, and Natasha has some kind of weird spider solidarity thing going on.”
“You’re trying to make contact with Spiderman,” Coulson said. He sighed. “Of course you are. Where are they being held?”
***
Just Your Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman (Clint)
He was never going to live this down. It was worse than that time in Detroit — not quite on par with the first time he’d sparred Thor, but weekly meetings were going to be hell for a while.
From behind him, Bruce shifted out of his meditation pose. “Relax,” he advised.
“Ha ha, very funny,” Clint said. He glared at the camera some more; the team must know they were there by now.
“No, I’m serious,” Bruce said. “Stand down; you’re freaking the Hulk out.”
He made a focused effort to release some of the tension he was holding. Inviting Hulk to the party wouldn’t do anyone much good, and it wasn’t like they were actually in danger. He was pissed off, sure, but not enough to purposefully introduce a not-exactly-jolly green giant into a small enclosed space.
“How are you — both of you — holding up?” he asked.
Bruce shrugged. “Fine, I guess. Wondering who’s going to bail us out.”
“Coulson, probably.”
“He doesn’t even —“ Bruce eyed him carefully. “You told him.”
“The team is great, but we’re not subtle. Come on — you and me in jeans and hoodies is the closest thing we have to normal, and we still got picked up by Batman in less than an hour.” Clint glanced back at the camera. “But no, I didn’t tell him. We’re both in here under aliases known by SHIELD. He probably got an alert sent to his phone as soon as we were entered into the system.”
A guard approached with intent, and sure enough, five minutes later they were being escorted out of the station by none other than Agent Coulson, suit and all.
“A suit?” Clint asked.
“You’d prefer street thug chic?”
Bruce plucked at his sweatshirt, but Clint just frowned. “Stark’s the one who said I couldn’t wear my sunglasses.”
“He’s right; they make you look like you’re on drugs,” Coulson said. Clint thought there might have been an eye roll in there too, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Really?”
He felt a prickling on his neck right before a new voice asked, “Everything all right here, gents?”
He looked around, then up. Spiderman perched above them on a streetlight. “Spiderman,” Coulson acknowledged.
“Phil,” Spiderman said.
“You two know each other?”
“No,” Coulson said.
“Then how —?”
“Please, he doesn’t even have a code name,” Spiderman said. “Don’t you ever google yourselves? ‘Who’s that well-dressed man always hanging around with the Avengers?’ Anyone with thirty seconds and an internet connection can play the name game these days.”
He did a flip around the light that made Clint feel a twinge of envy before adding, “Also, word is you’ve got a baddie about to light up the city. Try to keep it to the weekends, okay guys? Some of us have day jobs.”
And then he was gone, swinging up and into darkness, which was — wow, actually way creepier in person. “Anyone else feeling weirded out right now?” Clint asked.
Bruce said, “I think I met him once. As the Hulk. He seems familiar.”
Clint had yet to find the boundaries between ‘humor that is hilarious in the moment’ and ‘humor that will make Bruce Hulk out and get him yelled at by Fury,’ so he said nothing. After all, Coulson had just bailed them out of jail; it wouldn’t hurt to behave for a few hours. Probably.
“Can we go now?” Coulson asked. “Or were you planning to knock over a few convenience stores just to round out the night?”
He turned and headed down the street without waiting for an answer. Bruce stepped closer, murmured, “I’m pretty sure I did that as the Hulk too,” and Clint mostly failed to muffle his laugh.
“I heard that!” Coulson called.
***
Epilogue: S Is For Scrapbooking, T Is For Trouble (And Teamwork) (Jan)
“I can’t believe you didn’t get Spiderman’s autograph,” Jan said. She would have waved her hands for emphasis, but she didn’t actually have a video connection, so the effect would be lost. (On the upside, no video meant they couldn’t tell she was only half listening.)
“Did you miss the part where we had just been in jail? Besides, it was a bust anyway — he already knew.”
“Maybe he is friends with Doctor Strange,” she said. It was one of those persistent rumors — no one could prove it, but no one could actually disprove it, and who would make something like that up?
“That guy creeps me out,” Tony said. “Also, why are you on speaker? Aren’t you supposed to be at the lab?”
There was only so long anyone could listen to Hank talk about rocks before the urge to make bad jokes became unbearable. “I’m on a field trip. I finally get to do the ninja thing — T’Challa’s going to introduce me to some of his teachers.”
“Don’t show them the finger guns,” Clint advised.
She ignored him. The finger guns were clearly awesome. “Has anyone talked to Doctor Strange yet? Maybe he could get me Spiderman’s autograph.”
There was a long silence from the other end of the line. “Guys?”
“We sent Thor,” Steve said finally.
“He volunteered,” Tony added quickly. “He wanted to help. But that was hours ago, and we haven’t heard anything.”
“I assume he’s not answering his phone?”
“No, but this is Thor we’re talking about.”
Thor was still hit or miss with Earth technology — one minute he’d be surfing the internet, the next he’d be crushing his phone to pieces because the ringing offended his ears. “Right,” she said. “You know, I could be back there in thirty minutes. An hour, tops.”
“MY FRIENDS!” Thor’s voice echoed across the speaker. “I have returned from speaking with the Doctor of Strangeness!”
“You can say that again,” Clint muttered.
“He seems well-informed of Midgardian portents; I found it most enjoyable to converse with him.”
“You can cancel the jet, I think. Thor seems fine,” Tony said. “Have fun hanging out with T’Challa.”
“Video conference dinner tomorrow, right? I want photos of the jailbirds.”
“Done and done. And tell Hank to stop pestering the other scientists, okay? They’re starting to get twitchy in lab 4 whenever his name comes up.”
“Will do,” she said. “And I’m serious — let us know if there’s anything else we can do to help.”
“You’re already doing it, Jan,” Steve said, in his leader voice.
“I could go back out for Spidey’s autograph if you get T’Challa to hook me up with some of those throwing daggers,” Clint offered.
“You’re on. Last one to cough up the prize loses their movie vote for a month?”
“Jan!”
“What? It’s a fair deal.”
Tony’s fake-cough interrupted. “Coulson’s coming to break up the party, kids.” In a louder voice, he said, “Jan, thank you for that concise report on conditions there in Wakanda.”
“You realize there are video recordings of everything that happens in SHIELD facilities, right?” Coulson asked.
“Does that include the actual facilities? Because I’ve always been a little unclear on that.”
“Got to go,” Jan said quickly. (You could almost never get away with the ‘you’re breaking up’ excuse these days.)
“TRAIN BRAVELY!” Thor shouted, thankfully not right into the speaker. “WE SHALL SPAR UPON YOUR RETURN!”
“Indoor voice, Thor.”
“I AM INDEED INDOORS!”
The line disconnected, and she pocketed the phone, making a mental note to avoid Thor for as long as possible once she got back. Still — a bet with Clint, a gratuitous SHIELD bathroom joke, and training she was totally almost going to be on time for — not a bad day’s work at all.
~end~
Title: Warn the neighbors
Author: marcicat
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3100
Summary: The Avengers are pretty sure they’re about to be fighting Loki, and there is considerable debate about proper superhero etiquette.
(Note: Mostly movie!verse, but heavily influenced by the animated ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.’ Also, I’m sure I’ve read the ‘indoor voice’ thing in someone else’s (surely awesome) fic, but it’s got to be one of those jokes that never really loses its funny, right?)
Title: Warn the neighbors
Author: marcicat
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3100
Summary: The Avengers are pretty sure they’re about to be fighting Loki, and there is considerable debate about proper superhero etiquette.
(Author’s Note: Mostly movie!verse, but heavily influenced by the animated ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.’ Also, I’m sure I’ve read the ‘indoor voice’ thing in someone else’s (surely awesome) fic, but it’s got to be one of those jokes that never really loses its funny, right?)
A Courtesy Call Is Always A Nice Gesture (Tony)
He wrapped up the explanation — Loki, Thor, slight possibility they’ll rip up most of New York as they work out their issues — and leaned back from the camera with a casual wave.
"So, that's the situation here, I wouldn't even have mentioned it, really, except there was the chance you'd spontaneously decide to come back early, or, well — Steve thought you might be watching the news."
Hank's expression was incredulous. "What? Tony — of course we're watching the news."
Jan leaned into the video feed. "He's lying; I haven't watched anything but celebrity gossip since we got here."
"Jan's following you online," Hank explained.
"Yeah, if you intersperse the official stuff SHIELD puts out with the amateur vids, it's awesome. Tell Natasha she looks fierce in the new uniform."
Tony's face contorted momentarily. "That's going to be a no, actually. If I told her that, she'd probably skewer me with a hair pin. Anyway, got to go; things to do and all that.”
***
Hank called back, of course. It was well after midnight in New York, but circadian rhythms didn’t mean much to any of them at that point.
"Have you told the Fantastic Four?" Hank asked without preamble.
"Do we have to?"
"Tony..."
"Yes, yes, of course we have. For certain definitions of the word yes, anyway. It's on the agenda of things to do, how about that?"
Personally, Tony was of the opinion that if Reed couldn't figure out what was going on outside his own windows, that wasn't the Avengers' fault, but he'd been outvoted.
Hank sighed. “I’m pretty sure it's within the realm of common courtesy to warn people when you're about to host a demi-god showdown in their city." He spoke with the tone of someone who wan't sure his audience was familiar with concepts like ‘common’ or ‘courtesy.’
"You could just tweet it," Jan suggested. “‘Recruited god of thunder. Lost brother not so lost after all. Apologies in advance to New York for upcoming Asgardian smackdown.’”
"That's less than 140 characters," she added.
"Did you seriously just send that to your followers?"
Jan looked shifty. "Maybe."
"Jan!"
"No, of course not. Well, just the Wakanda network."
Tony bit back a laugh. "Steve's meeting with Sue and Reed tomorrow. He's the most respectable out of all of us; I’m sure it will go fine.”
Hank looked like he was on the verge of sighing again. “Tony, you've worked with Reed,” he said.
Tony just raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, that's why I'm not doing it. Besides, Steve lost the coin toss fair and square. I got Daredevil instead."
"Didn't Daredevil call you a degenerate playboy who cast a cloud over the superhero community of New York?" Jan asked, all innocence.
“That was ages ago. Besides, he’s just jealous because I look better in red than he does," Tony said.
"He's blind,” Hank said. “I’m pretty sure he doesn't care what you look like."
"That just goes to show how much you know."
"What about Spiderman?" Jan said.
Tony sounded incredulous. "Oh, come on, he's not even in the running. Even Hank looks better in red then he does."
"Hey!"
"No, I mean who's warning Spiderman?"
Which was, in fact, a stickier question than it seemed like it really should have been (no pun intended). "We're still working on that," Tony said. "He's on the list."
***
Is Public Relations Singular Or Plural? (Steve)
When it came right down to it, no one seemed completely sure why Spiderman had such a bad reputation. Comparatively speaking, he caused nowhere near as much collateral damage as the Fantastic Four, and was significantly more family friendly than the Avengers. He didn't even have a vendetta, which seemed like it should at least have put him one up on Batman and the X-Men.
None of that changed the fact that in reality, Spiderman got more bad press than Magneto, and wasn’t keen on public appearances. Ever. Which meant that any friendly ‘heads up’ about Loki was going to take some maneuvering.
"The kid needs a good lawyer, and a better publicist," Natasha said dismissively. She’d voted against holding this meeting off SHIELD premises, but Tony had insisted and Bruce had backed him up. "Hypothetically speaking, of course.”
Clint shook his head. "He can't afford that kind of help. You know, in theory.”
"Why do you keep saying it that way?" Steve asked.
"Spiderman's identity is sort of still a secret,” Clint said. As an explanation, it lacked a certain expositive quality, and Steve looked to Tony for clarification.
“Officially, we don't know who Spiderman is, and neither does SHIELD," Tony said. “And he apparently wants it that way.”
He added, “Of course, unofficially, there's a 96% chance that JARVIS has correctly ID'd him as Peter Parker, struggling college student, but we pretend not to pry."
Bruce, who tended to remain silently present at these things, suddenly looked interested. "96%?" he asked.
"We can't completely rule out shapeshifters, image inducers, clones, or lifts in the boots," Tony said, ticking each one off on his fingers. "Each of those got one percent. But the X-Men won't claim him, so we're pretty sure JARVIS is right."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, sir,” JARVIS said, and it was always hard to tell with the accent, but he was pretty sure there was sarcasm mixed in with the tone.
Clint said, “Anyway, that’s why we can't just call him up on the phone.”
"I voted for email, actually,” Tony interjected, raising his hand.
"It's rude to barge in to someone's personal life with superhero business when they're trying to keep them separate." Natasha carefully avoided looking at Bruce when she spoke, and Bruce politely didn’t call her on it.
"There's a Code, apparently,” Tony said, ignoring both of them. “It’s a secret Code, of course, but you know if you break it because Natasha threatens to kill you with shaving cream."
"There's not a Code." Natasha glared Clint down when it looked like he might disagree.
"Really?" Steve asked.
Clint shrugged. “He just won't talk to us. It's like he's got radar or something. Every time we go looking for him, he's suddenly on the other side of the city. We could try to take him in, but Fury's eying him for recruitment someday, and we'd rather not start off on the wrong foot."
"Speak for yourself," Tony said. "Right now the guy's closest known ally is Daredevil, and that's like a cry for help right there. Daredevil hates everyone; he could give Batman a run for his money."
“Can we just ask Daredevil to tell him?”
“No go. ‘Closest ally’ just means they once worked together and didn’t try to kill each other; they’re not exactly exchanging greeting cards. As far as we know.”
“Do you know?”
Tony, Clint, and Natasha all looked suddenly and studiously disinterested. Good to know they had access to resources they didn’t care to share with the class. He met Bruce’s gaze across the table. “They found me,” Bruce offered. “They’d know.”
“Right,” Steve said. “So what are our options?”
Tony grinned. “Oh, I have an idea.”
***
Expect the Unexpected Is More Than A Cliche (Natasha)
The beeping didn’t wake her up, because she was already awake. Nothing like sending your teammates on an unsanctioned op to keep you up nights. It didn’t matter that it should have been a milk run; with Stark involved it was bound to end in trouble.
“What happened,” she said, already heading for the door.
“You’re not going to believe this,” came Stark’s voice over her earpiece. “Clint and Bruce just got busted by Batman.”
“What?” Steve asked. He met her in the corridor — he clearly hadn’t been sleeping either, and she wondered if Fury (or anyone) was ever going to call him on it. Maybe he didn’t need to sleep. “I thought Batman was based in Gotham; what’s he doing here?”
“How should I know? Maybe he’s on vacation, or something.” Stark sounded distracted, which probably meant he was doing at least two other things at the same time. Hopefully at least one of them was helpful.
Jan voice sounded as clear as Stark’s, despite the fact that she was thousands of miles away. “Check the bathroom! Wait, sorry, is this on? Tony, did you know these would work over here?”
“Obviously. Do we want to know what’s in the bathroom?”
“Oh, Hank lost his phone again. Do you guys need help? What’s going on?”
“Tony, where are you?” Steve asked.
“Lab. Fourth floor. It has the best acoustics; you know this. I’ve got eyes on our boys. The good news is, Bruce is meditating.”
“And the bad news?” Hank must have found his earpiece, or else he was just sharing Jan’s.
“Well, that would be that he’s doing it in a jail cell, surrounded by ten — no, wait, eleven, one of them’s just really short — other people.”
“Tony!”
“What? This plan one hundred percent should have worked.”
They took the stairs to the lab. Coulson was waiting outside the door when they arrived. Unlike the rest of them, he looked like he’d been roused from sleep. He raised his eyebrows and pushed himself away from the wall at their approach.
“Agent Coulson,” Steve said.
“What plan?” Coulson asked.
The door swung open. Stark waved from a bank of computer screens. “Nice pjs, Phil. Just trying to be neighborly. You know — team player, yada yada, all that stuff you’re always lecturing me about.”
“I don’t recall any lectures including the phrase ‘the team that gets arrested together, sticks together,’” Coulson said.
Natasha hid a smile. Coulson tended to save his sense of humor for times when he’d have plausible deniability. Apparently, this counted.
“I think Clint and Bruce are really bonding,” Stark insisted. On screen, Banner had his eyes closed and looked like he was winning the meditation battle, at least momentarily. Clint was standing between him and the rest of the cell’s occupants, arms crossed, glaring at the camera. Either he knew they could see him, or he just felt the need to stare something down and the camera was the safest choice.
“Did they accomplish the mission?” Steve asked.
“That’d be a no,” Stark said. “Though they also didn’t break cover, so in theory, someone could go bail them out, and they could try again.”
Everyone looked at Coulson. “What?” he said.
“There’s a reason none of us were out there to begin with,” Steve said, somehow managing to sound both confident and abashed.
“Yeah, have you seen Steve try to be subtle? The only thing he could possibly go undercover as would be a really badly disguised undercover cop.” Coulson looked like he was trying not to laugh, or possibly like he was about to tase someone. “Pepper said she’d donate all my cars to PETA if I got arrested again, and Natasha has some kind of weird spider solidarity thing going on.”
“You’re trying to make contact with Spiderman,” Coulson said. He sighed. “Of course you are. Where are they being held?”
***
Just Your Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman (Clint)
He was never going to live this down. It was worse than that time in Detroit — not quite on par with the first time he’d sparred Thor, but weekly meetings were going to be hell for a while.
From behind him, Bruce shifted out of his meditation pose. “Relax,” he advised.
“Ha ha, very funny,” Clint said. He glared at the camera some more; the team must know they were there by now.
“No, I’m serious,” Bruce said. “Stand down; you’re freaking the Hulk out.”
He made a focused effort to release some of the tension he was holding. Inviting Hulk to the party wouldn’t do anyone much good, and it wasn’t like they were actually in danger. He was pissed off, sure, but not enough to purposefully introduce a not-exactly-jolly green giant into a small enclosed space.
“How are you — both of you — holding up?” he asked.
Bruce shrugged. “Fine, I guess. Wondering who’s going to bail us out.”
“Coulson, probably.”
“He doesn’t even —“ Bruce eyed him carefully. “You told him.”
“The team is great, but we’re not subtle. Come on — you and me in jeans and hoodies is the closest thing we have to normal, and we still got picked up by Batman in less than an hour.” Clint glanced back at the camera. “But no, I didn’t tell him. We’re both in here under aliases known by SHIELD. He probably got an alert sent to his phone as soon as we were entered into the system.”
A guard approached with intent, and sure enough, five minutes later they were being escorted out of the station by none other than Agent Coulson, suit and all.
“A suit?” Clint asked.
“You’d prefer street thug chic?”
Bruce plucked at his sweatshirt, but Clint just frowned. “Stark’s the one who said I couldn’t wear my sunglasses.”
“He’s right; they make you look like you’re on drugs,” Coulson said. Clint thought there might have been an eye roll in there too, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Really?”
He felt a prickling on his neck right before a new voice asked, “Everything all right here, gents?”
He looked around, then up. Spiderman perched above them on a streetlight. “Spiderman,” Coulson acknowledged.
“Phil,” Spiderman said.
“You two know each other?”
“No,” Coulson said.
“Then how —?”
“Please, he doesn’t even have a code name,” Spiderman said. “Don’t you ever google yourselves? ‘Who’s that well-dressed man always hanging around with the Avengers?’ Anyone with thirty seconds and an internet connection can play the name game these days.”
He did a flip around the light that made Clint feel a twinge of envy before adding, “Also, word is you’ve got a baddie about to light up the city. Try to keep it to the weekends, okay guys? Some of us have day jobs.”
And then he was gone, swinging up and into darkness, which was — wow, actually way creepier in person. “Anyone else feeling weirded out right now?” Clint asked.
Bruce said, “I think I met him once. As the Hulk. He seems familiar.”
Clint had yet to find the boundaries between ‘humor that is hilarious in the moment’ and ‘humor that will make Bruce Hulk out and get him yelled at by Fury,’ so he said nothing. After all, Coulson had just bailed them out of jail; it wouldn’t hurt to behave for a few hours. Probably.
“Can we go now?” Coulson asked. “Or were you planning to knock over a few convenience stores just to round out the night?”
He turned and headed down the street without waiting for an answer. Bruce stepped closer, murmured, “I’m pretty sure I did that as the Hulk too,” and Clint mostly failed to muffle his laugh.
“I heard that!” Coulson called.
***
Epilogue: S Is For Scrapbooking, T Is For Trouble (And Teamwork) (Jan)
“I can’t believe you didn’t get Spiderman’s autograph,” Jan said. She would have waved her hands for emphasis, but she didn’t actually have a video connection, so the effect would be lost. (On the upside, no video meant they couldn’t tell she was only half listening.)
“Did you miss the part where we had just been in jail? Besides, it was a bust anyway — he already knew.”
“Maybe he is friends with Doctor Strange,” she said. It was one of those persistent rumors — no one could prove it, but no one could actually disprove it, and who would make something like that up?
“That guy creeps me out,” Tony said. “Also, why are you on speaker? Aren’t you supposed to be at the lab?”
There was only so long anyone could listen to Hank talk about rocks before the urge to make bad jokes became unbearable. “I’m on a field trip. I finally get to do the ninja thing — T’Challa’s going to introduce me to some of his teachers.”
“Don’t show them the finger guns,” Clint advised.
She ignored him. The finger guns were clearly awesome. “Has anyone talked to Doctor Strange yet? Maybe he could get me Spiderman’s autograph.”
There was a long silence from the other end of the line. “Guys?”
“We sent Thor,” Steve said finally.
“He volunteered,” Tony added quickly. “He wanted to help. But that was hours ago, and we haven’t heard anything.”
“I assume he’s not answering his phone?”
“No, but this is Thor we’re talking about.”
Thor was still hit or miss with Earth technology — one minute he’d be surfing the internet, the next he’d be crushing his phone to pieces because the ringing offended his ears. “Right,” she said. “You know, I could be back there in thirty minutes. An hour, tops.”
“MY FRIENDS!” Thor’s voice echoed across the speaker. “I have returned from speaking with the Doctor of Strangeness!”
“You can say that again,” Clint muttered.
“He seems well-informed of Midgardian portents; I found it most enjoyable to converse with him.”
“You can cancel the jet, I think. Thor seems fine,” Tony said. “Have fun hanging out with T’Challa.”
“Video conference dinner tomorrow, right? I want photos of the jailbirds.”
“Done and done. And tell Hank to stop pestering the other scientists, okay? They’re starting to get twitchy in lab 4 whenever his name comes up.”
“Will do,” she said. “And I’m serious — let us know if there’s anything else we can do to help.”
“You’re already doing it, Jan,” Steve said, in his leader voice.
“I could go back out for Spidey’s autograph if you get T’Challa to hook me up with some of those throwing daggers,” Clint offered.
“You’re on. Last one to cough up the prize loses their movie vote for a month?”
“Jan!”
“What? It’s a fair deal.”
Tony’s fake-cough interrupted. “Coulson’s coming to break up the party, kids.” In a louder voice, he said, “Jan, thank you for that concise report on conditions there in Wakanda.”
“You realize there are video recordings of everything that happens in SHIELD facilities, right?” Coulson asked.
“Does that include the actual facilities? Because I’ve always been a little unclear on that.”
“Got to go,” Jan said quickly. (You could almost never get away with the ‘you’re breaking up’ excuse these days.)
“TRAIN BRAVELY!” Thor shouted, thankfully not right into the speaker. “WE SHALL SPAR UPON YOUR RETURN!”
“Indoor voice, Thor.”
“I AM INDEED INDOORS!”
The line disconnected, and she pocketed the phone, making a mental note to avoid Thor for as long as possible once she got back. Still — a bet with Clint, a gratuitous SHIELD bathroom joke, and training she was totally almost going to be on time for — not a bad day’s work at all.
~end~