Masks

Seriously?

Rogers was supposedly a tactical genius...and his first and apparently only solution to a perceived threat? Throwing an oversized Frisbee?

Dick snagged the shield in mid-throw, holding onto it firmly. He raised it just as Romanoff opened fire on him. Bullets bounced off the vibranium. Rogers yelled in what sounded like pain.

Click. Click.
And she'd used all of her ammunition in that one volley, it appeared. This was Amateur Night, for sure.

He slung the shield across his back to free his hands. "Now, that wasn't very nice," he chided. "Do you usually try to shoot people just for trash-talking you? You probably should carry a lot more ammo, then."

He closed the distance between them as Rogers opened his mouth to argue. Romanoff first. He avoided a kick, and swept his foot under her other ankle, sending her off-balance before delivering a hard punch to the side of her head. The Black Widow dropped. She was still conscious, but looked dazed.

"What kind of man hits a woman?" Rogers lunged at him. Dick evaded him easily, and caught the man's arm as he went past, applying a joint lock. Proper holds were all about pressure and angles, not muscle. A lesson the super-soldier learned--painfully--when he tried to yank free. Dick didn't flinch as he felt something in the man's arm snap.

"What the hell are you!" Rogers exploded, still trying to free himself.

Dick arched an eyebrow. " 'What' am I? Huh. No, I don't think you need to know that. " He shoved Rogers down onto his knees; yanked a pair of reinforced manacles off his belt. They should hold even a 'super-soldier'. Bruce had asked a certain Amazon to help test them when they were being designed.

It took some work, and a couple more punches, to get them on the man's wrists. Slippery as an eel, Dick noted. He'd probably have made a decent fighter with some real training, not that he'd ever admit to needing it.

He hit a switch, activating the magnets in the cuffs. Rogers was pinned to the floor as they turned on. He continued ranting, cursing and calling Dick a 'freak' and a 'bully'.

"What...do you want?" Romanoff's voice was weak, shaky, as she lifted her head. Blood matted the hair at her temple. She eyed him warily, sizing him up at the same time.

Uh huh. No, thanks, Dick wasn't falling for the 'wounded gazelle' act. "Just being neighborly." He didn't move any closer to her. "You were threatening civilians, and that's where some of us 'masked hero' types draw the line." He glanced up. "JARVIS, do you have actual containment areas that can hold them?"

"There is a room on the floor above this one that was designed as a safe room for the Hulk. I believe it should suit."

Dick considered, then tased the so-called heroes without a qualm. He'd heard enough of their ravings. If this was what Stark had to put up with on a daily basis, he was amazed that the man hadn't gone postal on them quite some time ago.
He dragged their still-twitching bodies to the elevator just as it opened. An older man wearing a 'Head of Security' ID stood there. He took in the scene, eyebrows almost climbing off his forehead.

"Wow. Is it Christmas already?" Happy Hogan grinned, and helped Dick tote the not-so-dynamic duo upstairs to the empty cell.

Rogers was healing quickly, not that that was a good thing for him. He had an open fracture in his arm that hadn't yet been treated. If it wasn't set soon, it would need to be rebroken and fixed. Hogan had apparently figured that out, too. He looked up to the ceiling. "JARVIS, gas them, please. Tranks, not tear gas. I'm not asking a doctor to go near them without taking precautions."

"Agreed." There was a low hiss, and gas began to pour through the vents into the cell.

Dick took the shield off his back, offering it to Hogan. "Mr. Stark should probably hold on to this for awhile."

"Okay. Sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"Ah. I go by 'Nightwing'. "

"As in Gotham?" Hogan smiled at Dick's look of surprise. "I do try to keep up with current events. Especially since Iron Man was a part of this--line of work. Thanks for stepping in."

"No probs. Any chance a guy could get a cold beer in this place? "

"Oh, I think we can manage that. Just give me a second to get some guards up here..."

Someone cleared their throat politely. Dick turned to see a man in a white lab coat watching them in puzzlement.

"...can I ask why Cap and the Widow are renting my room?" Bruce Banner asked.