Backstage Banter
With five minutes to showtime, the five of them were dolled up and Clint was flitting about, eyeing each costume and making adjustments where necessary.
“I’ve never cared to be a spectacle,” Steve groused, looking away as Clint tugged at his sparkly blue blouse. A wide strip of skin ran down through the middle of his trademark star.
“Be glad you didn’t grow up in the circus,” Clint offered as he worked.
“At least you’re mostly covered,” Bruce groused, crossing his arms uncomfortably. “I feel more naked with this bikini top than I do when I wake up… after an episode.”
“Well, the time to critique the outfits was”—Tony glanced at his phone—“oh, about thirty-six hours ago. Not my fault you were hiding out in your lab; I gave you a timetable back in June.”
“Did you just give me cleavage?” Steve hissed at Clint, his voice dropping on the final word.
“Just a hint.” Clint grinned as he surveyed his handiwork. “It’s all in how you work the padding.”
“C’mon, Cap, smile!” Tony said cheerily, looking himself over in the floor-length mirror and stretching luxuriously. “A little skin’s not so immodest these days, and besides, it’s for charity!”
“Do you honestly think I’d be doing this if it weren’t in support of a charitable cause?”
“Knowing this team, I think it’s safe to assume that none of us would be dressed like this in public if it weren’t about to raise hundreds of thousands of dollars to support the vulnerable.” Tony bounced on his toes, the motion going straight to his overly perky (and overly expensive) fake breasts. “But that’s what this is tonight: We’re being vulnerable, and we’re gonna grin and play along until the crowd’s had its fill and we can all slink back to the safety of home.”
“Indeed, my friends!” Thor boomed, clapping Steve’s shoulder, “tonight shall be an event to feed the bawdy campfire tales of our grandchildren’s grandchildren! Already I have seen us bandied about on the Twitter; many have bewailed their circumstances in being unable to attend.”
“And the photos are going to be up across the world as soon as we step out on stage,” Bruce muttered morosely.
Thor’s grin grew wider. “Why Banner, can this be your first time donning a womanly guise?”
Steve frowned at Thor. “It’s not yours?”
“Oho, my dear friends! Tomorrow I shall treat you to an epic tale of a weapon misplaced, a giant most brazen, and two brothers who coyly beguiled him with the hope of nuptial bliss hidden beneath their veils. Indeed, though on that occasion I found it hard to contain my outrage, do I yet look back fondly on the prank we played and how we retrieved my beloved Mjolnir.”
The room had gone silent, with every eye turned on Thor.
The first to break the silence was Tony. “Do you mean to tell me, you and Loki… tricked a giant who’d stolen your hammer… by dressing up as brides and offering to marry him?” His voice came out somewhat strained at the end.
Bruce scrubbed at his temples. “Now there’s an image I’m not gonna be able to get out of my brain. And to think I’d forgotten that myth.”
“Aaand here we go,” Clint called as the band started up and the crowd switched from murmurs to cheers.
“Joining us here tonight from another dimension, just to kick off the festivities… the Avengers!”
The brilliantly multicolored crowd roared, and Steve stopped peeking out of the curtain to shoot a look back at his companions.
Tony shrugged. “Just give ’em a wave, show off your stuff, and move off to the side. If the spotlight needs stealing, you know who to call.”
“Frozen in ice for seventy years, newly introduced to the modern world and already reminding us of good old hometown values: Eve Rogers!”
As Steve pushed through the curtain, he almost wished he were there to punch out Hitler again. But despite the embarrassment, he thrust out his bewomaned chest, flipped the blonde curls over his shoulder, and batted his eyes at the crowd before hiding shyly behind the heart-shaped shield that Tony had whipped up to complete the outfit.
Clint wasn’t the only one who’d picked up a few tricks.
“Doin’ fine, Cap,” Tony murmured over his earpiece; he was watching the backstage monitor, seeing from the crowd’s point of view. “Off to the right—oh, sorry, that’d be your left.”
Steve’s legs felt unpleasantly bare under the pleated skirt, but at least it was almost to his knees—unlike the miniskirt that Tony was sporting.
“Our very own truly mad scientist, whose quest for answers turned her into a verdant mountain of voluptuous beauty: Ruth Banner!”
“That is so inaccurate,” Bruce grumbled under his breath, and cringed as he stepped through the curtain, forcing himself to stand a little straighter and show off his deep purple bikini top and flowing culottes.
Clint chuckled. “I’m glad he’s got a handle on his temper. Thought he was gonna kill you over the wig.”
“Well, part of him’s gotta be green, right?”
“Barely a teen when she left home to join the circus, now she’s a master acrobat who never misses a shot: Glinda Barton!”
‘Glinda’? Tony mouthed as Clint strode out onstage and shot out two giant balloons, showering the crowd with purple and black confetti before pirouetting on his bespangled comma heels, sticking out one hip, and blowing the crowd a kiss.
Tony rolled his eyes. “Show-off.”
“Did you not think to try the elevated shoes?” Thor asked. “I would have thought you’d both appreciate the increased height.”
“I’m perfectly happy with my height,” Tony sniped back. “Besides, twinkle-toes is the one used to balancing on narrow ledges, not me.” Then he sighed. “Honestly, I’m a little jealous that he can pull off the sleeveless catsuit look.”
“Hailing from the golden realm of Asgard, the fearless warrior who will one day claim the throne: Thor Odinsdottir!”
With a mighty bellow, Thor rushed through the curtain and whirled his fake hammer around, lifting it high to signal the lighting crew; the lights went dark for a moment as a bolt of fake lightning hit the hammer and the crowd went wild.
“Not bad,” Tony murmured. They’d had to practice that move for the better part of two days before Thor had managed to reliably suppress his powers and stop lighting the stage on fire.
Unlike Tony, who had decided to shave off his trademark goatee, Thor had kept his beard, and had merely braided up his lengthy locks with a little extra decoration, evoking the feel of the Vikings of old. He’d painted his face like a Valkyrie, and had worked with Tony to create a female version of his typical armor—not, to Tony’s disappointment, a sexy outfit, but rather a functional set of armor that covered all the vital organs (while allowing for ample breasts). But at least he’d accepted a sexy helmet.
“And for our final guest: You’ve watched her transform Stark Industries from the leading manufacturer of high-powered weaponry to the forerunner of era-shifting technological improvements, up to and including the first consumer-priced household AI butler, scheduled to release early next year. Say hello to our foremost sponsor… Tonya Stark!!”
To no one’s surprise, Tony had gone all out with his costume: an ostentatiously low-cut top with a flattering miniskirt, professional makeup and a nearly floor-length black ponytail with strands of golden amber and red garnets woven in eye-catching patterns. (If the showy golden bracers were capable of summoning his armor, well, no one had to know; Mjolnir, too, was backstage in case anyone tried to crash the party, as was Cap’s real shield—and Clint’s bow of choice, despite its showy design, was nearly as capable as his regular gear.)
“Up for auction: an evening with each of these fine ladies. No hanky-panky, now! Proceeds go to FORGE, a national transgender anti-violence organization that supports survivors of sexual assault, domestic and dating violence, as well as providing guidelines and training for victim service professionals working with marginalized populations. Bidding will start at the stroke of the hour. Five… four… three… two… one… go!”