ses and bucket down on the table and Tony sees that the bucket is in fact not full of champagne but full of ice.

※What, we＊re going to sit in the cafeteria and get drunk?§

※Yes,§ Natasha says simply.

※Pepper will murder you for taking that,§ Tony says as she takes the bottle back from his hands and cracks it open, pouring three healthy measures of whiskey which Clint drops ice into, the ice clinking and cracking with a familiar and soothing sound.

※Pepper is the one who gave it to me,§ Natasha says as she sets the bottle down and pushes a glass over towards Tony with her fingers. ※I think she＊d rather you be supervised through the self-destructive phase.§

Clint lifts his own drink in a toast. ※I volunteered.§

Despite himself, Tony smiles, a weak twitch of his lips. ※So why is Natasha here?§

※I＊m supervising Clint supervising you,§ she says with a perfectly straight face, and Tony starts to laugh. He spans his hand over his eyes, thumb and fingertips on his temples as he tries to keep control of his already wobbly emotions. Thankfully, the other two ignore it. Either they＊re being sensitive, or 每 more likely 每 they don＊t want to deal with anything remotely emotional right now. Whichever it is, Tony is grateful.

※This is officially the most expensive thing I have ever put in my body,§ Clint says like it＊s an announcement, and Tony looks up in time to see him neck his drink, the ice clinking softly against the glass. Clint sucks in a breath, eyeing the bottle and frowning. ※Aw, I can't tell the difference.§

※You need to work on your phrasing,§ Tony remarks and then follows suit. Natasha just smiles at them, sipping at her own drink in an altogether more dignified fashion.

※And Steve drank eight bottles of this stuff?§

※One of the more impressive things I＊ve seen him do,§ Tony says as Clint pours two more drinks.

※More impressive than the throw he did that took out eleven AIM grunts?§ Clint grins crookedly. ※Or the thing with the fire hydrant?§

※That wasn＊t impressive, that was moronic and cost me a small fortune to fix,§ Tony grouches, and his chest is tight and his stomach rolling and he aches to be back with Steve, to have him in sight and within touching distance.

※But it was inte gold,§ Clint sighs, knocking back his second drink without pause. ※But then again, nearly everything Steve does seems to be inte gold, whether he means for it to be or not.§

※He loves the inte,§ Tony says absent-mindedly, staring at the ice in the bottom of his glass.

※Erm, we＊re both talking about Steve Man-Out-Of-Time Rogers, right?§ Clint asks sceptically.

※Yeah, I mean he hated it at first. But he hated everything at first,§ Tony says, and Natasha hides a smile in her glass. ※Too bright, too flashy, too in his face. Too unnecessary, from his point of view. But yeah, he wasplaining about not getting something and I threw a Starkpad at him and said to Google it.§

※You taught him how to Google.§

※He taught himself how to Google.§

Clint snorts. ※Did you turn safesearch off?§

※Christ, no. I＊m not a maniac.§

Natasha does smile at that, a soft sad curve of her mouth. ※He still writes down everything though. As in pencil and paper in the back of one of his sketchbooks.§

※I know, I know,§ Tony says wearily, taking a large gulp of his drink. ※What can I say. You can take the man out of the forties＃§

※And you can teach him to love Google?§

※He＊ll never admit he likes it,§ Tony says, and his mouth hitches in a small smile. ※And yeah, he hates the murkier side of it, the porn and the gossip and the gambling-§

※All the fun parts,§ Clint interjects.

Tony bites back on a laugh. ※Yeah. Those parts. But he＊s clocked the fact that now he doesn＊t have to constantly ask when he misses a reference. His pride can make it through the day intact.§

Without him having to ask, Natasha leans forwards and tops up his drink. He blinks, eyes all at once feeling too warm and bright as he thinks about the Steve＊s stubborn frown, the way he insists that he＊s got it, that he doesn＊t need any help, thanks. ※Was this the plan?§ Tony asks, voice rough. ※Get drunk and wax poetical about Steve?§

※Talk about him,plain about him, write sos about him,§ Clint shrugs. ※Whatever, man.§

Tony laughs, a rough unsteady sound, and he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingers. The words are on the tip of his tongue, and Pepper already knows, and Clint has already hinted that he suspects something, so there＊s really next to no chance that Natasha won＊t have picked up on it. With that in mind, the urge to actually say it is pretty much more than he can supress.

※So, should I just get it out the way and admit that I might be totally and utterly gone for Steve?§

※Glad you＊ve worked that out,§ Natasha says, and grasps his wrist, lifts his hand off the table-top and pushes his glass back towards him. ※Drink.§

Tony pulls his hand away from hers, a little disconcerted by the lack of reaction. ※That＊s it?§

※That＊s it,§ Natasha confirms with a nod.

※Dude, it was pretty obvious,§ Clint says with a grimace. ※We talked about this already, with the whole face touching thing. You two are kinda＃intense around each other.§

※We are not.§

Clint just gives him a look. ※You can either deny it, or we can cut to the chase and get started on that so. How many words can we think of that rhyme with America?§

Tony slumps forwards, elbow on the table and forehead resting on his knuckles. ※God, I hate you.§

A hand claps down on his shoulder. ※Yeah you do,§ Clint says easily.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Tony pushes himself back into a more upright position and lifts his drink. He pauses with the tumbler inches from his mouth and points at Natasha with his forefinger.

※Just so we＊re clear, this isn＊t drinking because we＊re mourning, or we＊ve given up-§

※Of course not,§ she says, her mouth tightening a fraction, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. She＊s hurting too, Tony knows. Probably as much as the rest of them, despite how she＊s less obvious about it.

e on,§ Clint scoffs. ※You really think we＊ll ever give up? This is a clever ploy to get him to wake up. He＊ll sense us getting drunk with his heightened responsibility receptors and get up to yell at us.§

Tony and Natasha both snort into their drinks.

※Responsibility receptors?

※He＊s got them,§ Clint insists, and drops his voice to a whisper. ※They＊re red, white and blue. I＊ve seen them.§

And Tony is laughing, laughing harder than he has in weeks, and it still feels like he＊s about to cry as well as laugh but it＊s okay. Clint and Natasha are both clearly at their limits as well and they＊re getting drunk so being a little sloppy with his control is probably allowed.

He looks up just in time to see Natasha wipe her fingertips under her eye, still smiling as she listens to Clint's rambling. Without saying anything, Tony reaches over and grasps her free hand in his, and the way she squeezes his fingers in return is the mostforting thing he＊s felt in days.

※Where have you been?"

It＊s not Shield＊s demanding voice that calls out the minute Steve steps into the apartment, or even themander＊s. It＊s SJ that he finds blocking his way across the room, arms folded across his chest and glaring at Steve with all the force he can muster.

※Out running,§ Steve says. He reaches out to ruffle SJ＊s hair and SJ scowls more ferociously and pushes his hand away, turning his face to the side as he coughs.

※For five hours?§ SJ demands, and Steve laughs. He steps forwards and grabs SJ under the arms, lifting him up onto his hip and squeezing him gently. SJ doesn＊t protest, just curves his small frame into Steve＊s side, head resting on his shoulder and snuggling happily towards the warmth.

※You＊re all sweaty,§ heplains, wrinkling his nose. His breath catches and his back shifts as he supresses another cough.

※You＊re all cold, you don＊t see meplaining,§ Steve replies, and smiles as cool fingertips press into his neck and then dance up his face, pressing against his cheeks. SJ grins and leans up and Steve takes his hand and presses it to his forehead with an ＆ahhh＊ of satisfaction, making SJ giggle.

※So, you＊re clearly the new favourite,§ Seven＊s voice says, sounding amused. He steps into the apartment, stretching his arms above his head before letting them flop down to his side. He＊s still wearing his full uniform, unlike Steve who has kept the top half peeled down to his waist. This place is warm, the sun shining pleasantly and apanied only by a soft breeze, and Steve knows he＊s the only one who really appreciates it. The rest of them are always cool or cold, the sun having no real impact on them other than to provide light. Exercise doesn＊t affect them in the same way either, though Seven insists that he and many of the others still enjoy running and working out.

※I＊m clearly being forced into a life of servitude as a hot-water bottle,§ Steve says pointedly and SJ just grins.

※Don＊t like being cold,§ he says, and a skinny arm winds its way around Steve＊s neck. Steve hitches him up slightly, feeling a swell of emotion in his chest.

※Pretty sure none of us do.§

※Lewis does,§ Seven says. ※He was part of Spec Ops in the US army. Died in 2007 in Iraq, says he always ended up being deployed in the summer and was sick to all hell of being constantly hot and sweaty.§

※I take it he was never frozen in the Arctic if he＊s from the twenty-first century?§ Steve asks, and then sighs as SJ＊s hand slides down over his eyes. ※Really? I swear I wasn＊t this annoying when I was small.§

※I＊m not you,§ SJ giggles, spreading his fingers apart so Steve can see. ※We＊re different, you keep etting.§

※Yes, I see. Very different in that I＊m less annoying.§

※Are not,§ SJ argues, kicking his feet against Steve＊s thigh. ※Shield said you were a pain in his ass for wandering off.§

※Language,§ Steve and Seven both say at the same time, Steve sternly and Seven somewhat more wearily. SJ purses his lips, looking slightly abashed b

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