"Meeting's in ten, guys."
Natasha looked up from her book as Steve walked past the couch, marking her page. She checked on Clint, who was dead to the world on the other sofa, arms clasped around one of his quivers. It was only eleven-way too early for Clint to be conscious. "Got it. Just sparring?"
"Just sparring," Steve confirmed, walking in the direction of their quarters. He sent her a quick smile over his shoulder. "You're the only one awake, though."
"Ooh, have fun," She said, smirking. Steve was about to walk into the lion's den-waking up Tony, Bruce and Thor all at once? Good thing he was damn near indestructable. "Clint."
She kicked the couch. Clint snapped awake, launching his empty quiver at her face. She ducked easily, rolling over her copy of The Count of Monte Cristo so she didn't bend the pages. "Sparring in ten. Wake up."
"I'm awake, I'm awake…" Clint yawned, running a hand through his hair. He glanced around the empty living room. "Where is everyone?"
"Still sleeping." Natasha stood, making sure Clint followed her towards the doors. She pressed the elevator button for the archer, smiling to herself. His hair was hopelessly ruffled, sticking up every which way.
Touching it was out of the question-Clint was famously defensive of his cowlicks. That, and she didn't want someone to mistake her basic understanding of neatness for-affection-or something. "Your hair is all messed up."
"Your face is messed up," Clint muttered back, hitting the elevator doors in frustration. "Why the hell is Rogers making up spar at eleven in the morning on a Sunday? It's too goddamned early."
Natasha felt her phone buzz. She ignored Clint's griping and grabbed it from her back pocket. Can't find Tony anywhere, Steve's text read. Any idea where he is?
"Steve can't find his boy toy," Natasha informed Clint, who grinned. "JARVIS?"
A pleasant voice rang out above her. "Ms. Romanov-"
The elevator doors sprang open before JARVIS could finish. Tony was suddenly there, arms wide, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Natasha! Clint!"
Both assassins took a big step back as Stark stepped out of the elevator, followed by a taller man in a suit. The other man watched her with steady eyes, a small smirk on his lips. Natasha frowned, looking at the fancy suit. Business.
"Tony. We have a spar session in ten."
Stark snapped his fingers, turning back to his friend. "Damn. And I thought it was a spa session. You still like facials, Brucie?"
Natasha coughed loudly, but the other man was unflappable. Tony seemed to snap out of it, blinking twice. "Ah. Guys, meet Bruce. Bruce, guys."
Bruce stepped forward, smiling. Clint shook the man's hand, nodding stiffly. "Clint. Nice to meet you."
"Bruce Wayne," the man intoned, inclining his head. He smiled at Natasha, taking her hand. "Pleasure."
Another billionaire buddy. Great. Natasha forced a smile, internally reviewing what she knew of the man-in truth, he was a lot like Tony-money, sex, and more money. There'd been an article in the tabloids a few days ago-something about a threesome inside a fountain? She glanced at Clint, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines.
Tony slung an arm around his guest's shoulders. "Brucie here's been my friend since, ah, I don't know...Right, Brucie?"
Wayne smiled widely, something about it irritating Natasha. "Sure. And fellow businessmen for just as long. Tony and me go way back. Boarding school and all."
"Great," Natasha said, hearing footsteps in the hallway behind her. Banner and Thor stood at the mouth of the kitchen, a pissed-looking Rogers in front of them. "Found Tony, Steve!"
The look he sent her could've killed. Banner and Thor chose (wisely) to stand back as Steve walked into the room, all angsty shoulders and american charm. "Hey Tony. Who's your guest?"
"Bruce Wayne," Wayne offered his hand, not shrugging off the arm Tony had around his shoulders. Steve looked like he wanted to punch both of them, but he shook Wayne's hand like the boy scout he truly was. "You must be the Captain."
"Steve Rogers," Rogers said stiffly, looking at Tony. "We have practice in five minutes. I don't think your friend will be staying that long."
Whoa. That was a little aggressive. Tony turned to grin at Bruce, who raised an eyebrow. "Wanna stay and watch, Brucie? I'm sure we could dredge up some champagne for you."
Wayne glanced at the group, his smile widening. "You know me too well."
"For sure." Tony ignored Steve's murderous glare and pointed at the group. "Go get set up. We'll join you in a quick sec."
Roger's ears were red at the tips. Natasha could tell because it was the only place she felt safe staring at. "Our sparring session isn't time for business, Tony."
"Business? What business?" Tony looked at Wayne, whose face had gone carefully blank. "Bruce's an old friend. Two seconds, Steve."
Steve stalked off to the sparring rooms as soon as Tony and Wayne were out of sight, a timid looking Banner and Thor following behind. Natasha looked at Clint, who shrugged. "That was….weird."
"Is Steve-jealous?"
Clint frowned, grabbing his forgotten quiver from the floor. "I think it was rude for Tony to bring another one of his playboy friends without telling him first. I know Steve hates all of them."
"He's a friend of Tony's," Natasha said, "Like, Tony doesn't have friends."
They stared at the doors to the gym with something close to trepidation.
"Fifty on Steve beating the crap out of Tony."
Natasha frowned. "He would never."
"So? It's my money to make bets with!"
"Your money is kept in a superman lunch box under your bed, it's all in singles, and it's only twenty-seven dollars, Clint."
The archer hugged his quiver defensively. "So?"
"You know what? Never mind." Natasha jabbed at the button for the doors. "Let's just get this over with."
Wayne and Tony were already in the gym when they arrived, seated at the benches along the western wall. Wayne had a glass of champagne in hand, whispering into Tony's ear every few seconds.
Steve and the rest of the Avengers were on the other side of the room, avoiding the two billionaires as they warmed up. Natasha watched Steve as they joined the group, unused to seeing him so unhinged. The taller man was doing furious push ups, muscles flexing in the flourescent lighting. Tony didn't even glance in his direction.
Rogers changed to one-handed push ups, doing them quickly enough to impress even her. Natasha slid into a stretch, watching Wayne out of the corner of her eye. His gaze settled on her briefly, something flickering behind the inane playboy smile. "Almost ready, Cap?"
Steve grunted, pushing up to his feet. He clapped his hands together. "Let's go."
"Oh boy," Tony's giggle could be heard from across the room. He poked Wayne's side. "They're staaaaaaaarting!"
Natasha volunteered to spar with Steve first, keeping a careful eye on his anger levels. Better that he worked some steam off with her first, instead of taking it out on Banner. They circled the mat in the center of the room, only feet away from Tony and Wayne. "Ready."
Steve launched into an attack, a quick salvo of blows raining down on her, almost faster than she could anticipate. She ducked, sliding around Roger's block and jabbing at his kidneys. Steve took a glancing blow to his side, swinging for her face. A quick leg sweep and she was on the floor, Roger's shoulder between her legs. "Check."
"Again."
You're getting clumsy, she wanted to say, but bit her tongue. Steve's strength could crush her if she let him close enough, but today didn't seem the same. He came at her again, his fist a blur past her cheek.
Whoa, she thought, dodging the blow, watching Steve take a step back and aim again. His arms were out like he was holding his shield, gripping nothing but thin air. She moved around the obvious space he was ignoring, ducking the blow and getting a hold around his neck. With some quick footwork and a hearty push, Steve went down over her back, slamming into the floor.
A low chuckle sounded across the gym. Nat looked up to see Wayne clapping, his eyes not matching the sleazy smile he wore. "Nice one."
Steve went bright red as Tony joined in the clapping, nostrils flaring. She could tell he was seething, possibly close to bursting. That wasn't good. Tony/Steve fights were legendary, and always resulted in broken bones and bruised egos. "Again."
"Wait," Wayne's voice trailed over to them, oddly soft. Natasha glanced at the billionaire, who stood. He winked at her, walking over to Rogers. "You're telegraphing your hits. Take a step back. She's using the space between your left shoulder and your side easily. You're not even paying attention. Look-"
Rogers did no such thing. He tilted his chin up, though Wayne was hardly dwarfed-they were almost the same height. Wayne might have even had a half inch on him. "Excuse me?"
So polite, Natasha thought. She met Clint's eyes across the mat, who made a wtf? face at her. She bit her lip. "He's right."
Rogers looked betrayed for a second, before the anger settled in. He glared at Wayne. "And what would you know about it?"
Bruce Wayne blinked once, folding his hands. His face had gone blank again. "Oh, you know, a few sparring classes here and there…"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne, but I think we've got it." Steve bit out, shoulders trembling. "Tony, make sure your guest stays out of the mat."
Tony raised his eyebrows. "My guest can do as he pleases."
"Tony."
"Fine, fine." Stark grabbed Wayne by the lapels and dragged him off the matts. "Brucie, I don't think they like you."
"Just making a suggestion," Wayne said softly, smiling brilliantly at Rogers. His gaze slide over to Natasha. "She's taking him down again. Hit to the kidneys, then the right knee, then his left side."
Clint's wtf? face intensified from across the room. Tony chuckled, slapping his friend on the shoulder. "One million says you're wrong."
"All of my shares in your company say I'm right." Wayne said haughtily, straightening his cuffs. Steve snapped into place across from Natasha, reminding her that they were about to spar. She nodded once, and they were off again.
Wayne had a good eye-or maybe he was just lucky. Steve went down in less than ten seconds, her blows falling into place on his weak spots. His face hit the mat with a startling finality.
Steve got up almost immediately, outraged as Wayne let out a chuckle. The super soldier was past seething, stalking over to where the billionaires sat. "You think you're some kind of funny guy, huh?"
Wayne raised an eyebrow, not rising to the bait. "Just pointing out the weak spots. You're a good fighter. Everyone has them, though."
Tony rose from his seat, putting a hand on Steve's chest. "Babe, I think we should-"
"If you're such a genius," Steve spat at Wayne. "Then you do it."
Wayne's eyebrow crept even higher up his forehead. "Do what?"
"Spar. With me."
Tony went white. "Steve, I-"
"I won't hurt him." Steve told Tony, the implication unsaid. Permanently. Wayne was still cool as a cucumber as the two men stared at each other. "Trust me."
"It's not you I'm worried ab-"
"It's fine, Tony." Wayne rose, undoing his cufflinks quickly. He slid out of his suit jacket gracefully, folding and placing it across the table. He kicked his shoes off, smirking at Rogers. "Ready, Captain?"
"Bruce-"
Steve led Wayne over to the mat, something close to smugness radiating off of him. Natasha quickly cleared the mat, walking over to Tony. He was watching Wayne carefully, hands clasped together. His knuckles were white. "Worried?"
Tony glanced at her, eyes returning to the mat immediately. "Always."
"Twenty says Steve wipes the floor with him." Clint called out from her right. Tony frowned.
"Fifty says the opposite."
"C'mon," Clint whined, walking over to the billionaire. "Only fifty bucks?"
"Did I say fifty?" Tony said, blinking. "I meant fifty million. Throw in the superman lunchbox and we're square."
"Deal."
Even Banner looked curious. "I gotta go with Clint on this one, Tony."
"It's on like Donkey Kong," Tony muttered, shaking his head at them. "You have no fucking idea."
Natasha's eyes were on Wayne as Steve led them into a drawn-out circle. Wayne was at a disadvantage no matter what-super soldier serum seemed to do that to everyone. On top of that, he was wearing dress pants, a white linen shirt, and no shoes. Steve, by comparison, was wearing a light layer of armor, boots, and reinforced gloves. She watched Wayne carefully; he didn't seem worried, but that could just be cocky charm…
Steve leapt at Wayne suddenly, faster than Natasha could see. In a heartbeat, Steve was on the floor, Wayne's foot at his neck. What. the. Fuck.
Clint voiced her thoughts. "What the fuck, man?"
Wayne let Steve up, face blank. He rolled his sleeves up as the captain stumbled to his feet, his cheek reddening from an obvious hit. Natasha hadn't managed a hit to his face in a while. Curious. "Again."
Banner and Clint traded glanced. The doctor spoke up. "That had to be a fluke, right?"
Thor's frown was legendary. "No, I saw the mighty blow. The darker man struck him twice."
"Are you shitting me?"
Steve leapt at Wayne again, holding back a little. Natasha watched closely as lightning-fast blows were traded. Wayne stepped past Steve like he could see the hits coming, ducking fluidly, jabbing at Steve faster than the eye could see. With a vicious blow, he caught the soldier in the chest, throwing him a good three feet across the mat.
Only Tony looked unsurprised as Steve had trouble getting to his feet, bleeding from a cut to his mouth. Wayne was barely ruffled, nigh a hair out of place. "Your footwork needs improving. You're too used to brawling, just putting brute strength into your hits-what if your enemy is quicker? What if they're smarter?"
Like you? Natasha wanted to ask. Steve looked momentarily cowed, eyes wide. "How do you know that?"
Wayne shrugged fluidly, face blank. "Like I said. Couple classes here and there."
"Bullshit." Clint called out. "I want a turn. Cap's all burned out, is all."
"Sure," Wayne's face was impassive, moving to let Steve pass. Tony patted him on the back, handing him an ice pack from god knows where. "Let's begin."
All the playboy charm disappeared as they circled each other. Wayne's movements were predatory, his footsteps silent on the mat. Clint swung at him experimentally, meeting nothing but air. Wayne was three feet away in the blink of an eye, untouched. "You have to be quicker than that."
"Oh, I can do fast." Clint launched himself at Wayne, ducking and kicking at his legs. Wayne leaped over his boots, spinning in midair and grabbing Clint's shoulders. With barely any effort, he swung Barton over his back and onto the floor, gone a second later. Tony actually laughed this time.
"Fucking-shit." Clint spit out, standing up ungracefully. He grabbed a knife from his belt, unsheathing it. "Again."
Wayne didn't even blink. "Okay."
The knife was gone in about six seconds. Wayne was suddenly behind Clint, an arm around his neck. The knife was between his teeth. Barton tapped out furiously, face turning red. Wayne let him go easily. Natasha saw the look in Clint's eye and wanted to warn the billionaire, but it was too late-
Wayne caught the second knife without turning around, jabbing at Barton's arm and kicking him to the ground. He tossed the knife across the mat, a foot placed squarely on Clint's chest. The archer turned purple. "H-elpp.."
Natasha quirked an eyebrow at Wayne, who made a why not? gesture. She circled him carefully, unwilling to make the same mistakes her teammates had. "I've seen your techniques before."
"Have you?" Wayne asked distantly, smiling at her in lieu of responding. She kicked out at him, wondering if it was a weak spot. He dodged easily, balancing easily on one foot and returning the blow. She saw the feint for what it was and moved out of the way, only to walk straight into his fist.
She tasted blood as she got up, realizing the other man had been holding back. The punch could have knocked her out, had he allowed it. She could see his musculature under the thin dress shirt-no way in hell that was from the gym. "I saw it used once. There was an organization. The League of Shadows."
Even saying the name terrified her. She dodged a playful blow from the other man, twisting and trying to use his own momentum against him. He grabbed her arms in a hold behind her head, flinging her away from him easily, like a cat playing with a toy. "Know them?"
"No clue what you're talking about," Wayne said, face blank yet again. "Easy, or hard?"
"What?"
"I said, do you want to end this easy, or hard?"
Natasha grit her teeth, considering it. "Hard."
Wayne nodded. "Fine."
She could do this. Wayne was quick, sure, but everyone had a weak spot. He'd said it himself. She narrowed in on his movements, trying to find a pattern. His back…?
Something blurred across her vision, cracking into her head with startling force. She hit the ground hard, and didn't get up. She could hear Steve yell, joined a second later by Thor's concerned shouting. A hand touched her head tentatively.
"Clint…"
"Sorry." Wayne said softly, grinning at her. He helped her up into a sitting position, guiding her aching head with firm hands. "You did ask for hard."
Natasha saw his face above her, blinking. "Didn't think it would be that hard."
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize." She said, grabbing his offered hand and standing up. Around them, the avengers had gone silent. Banner was eerily pale.
"Who are you?"
Wayne barely spared a glance for Steve, walking towards the table. He rolled down his sleeves and donned the jacket, replacing his cufflinks. "Just a friend of Tony's."
Thor touched her head delicately, healing most of her headache. She nodded at him gratefully, watching Steve's little angry mind twist and turn. "We could use someone like you on this team, Wayne."
Bruce Wayne raised an eyebrow at the captain, dismissing him with a small smirk. "I don't play well with others. Captain."
"And he was already asked." A deep voice called out. "Wasn't he?"
The entire team turned to find Nick Fury standing in the doorway, in all of his black-and -leather glory. His usual furious expression was missing as he walked up to their guest. "Mr. Wayne."
"Nick," Wayne said, nodding his head. He didn't offer his hand, stepping into his dress shoes. "Nice to see you. Again."
"Always a pleasure, Mr. Wayne." Fury said politely. Natasha felt her jaw drop as he ducked his head. Was he...nervous?. "Any chance you'd like to reconsider?"
Wayne looked around the room, impassive. "And what, make your team feel inferior? No thanks."
"You-" Steve's face had gone red again. Tony stopped him with a hand to his chest, whispering something in his ear that sounded a lot like frantic promised future sexual favors. "I-never mind."
Wayne winked at her and Clint, moving over to shake Tony's hand. Steve actually took a step back, which was not missed by Tony. "Till next time, Stark."
"I'll wire you the money in twenty, bats." Stark replied, a shit-eating grin returning to his face. Fury began to say something, before halting abruptly. "Where the fuck did he go?"
"What?"
Natasha zeroed in on where Wayne had been just a second ago. The room was silent. "He just...disappeared."
"Wait. Bats? BATS?"
Clint turned to Natasha. "Did we just fight Batman?"
"You mean, did we just lose to Batman?" Natasha watched Steve's face turn a mottled shade of red and grinned despite herself. "I think so."
Fury pointed at Stark. "Why the hell didn't you warn them?"
"I wanted Clint's superman lunch box," Tony whined, pouting at Fury. "Besides. Bruce needs to relax a little. The JL's driving him batshit. Haha, get it? Batshit cr-"
Steve facepalmed so hard he almost knocked himself out. Beside him, Tony was cackling gleefully, an arm around his boyfriend. "I need a nap."
"I need to go, uh, check on my stuff…" Clint said nervously. "I, uh, see you later…"
"Bullshit." Tony said, voice rising. He pointed at Barton. "You're gonna go hide that lunchbox!"
Thor was patting Banner on the back, who looked dismayed. "I'm sure the man of bats will share his technology with you if you ask nicely."
"It's just-ugh. That program he wrote for the martians the other day." Banner wrung his hands. "I need it. Tony, tell me Wayne's coming back."
"Who?" Tony asked innocently, making grabby hands at Clint. "Pay up, bitch!"
Natasha looked at Fury, who seemed to almost be...smiling? "Is something wrong, sir?"
"No," Fury chuckled, making everyone in earshot freeze. "It's just not every day you guys get your asses handed to you. I need that shit on video."
Tony broke away from glaring at Clint to hand the director a flash drive. "Already uploaded."
"Great." With that, Fury exited, clutching the drive close to his chest. Natasha turned to Steve, who was painfully silent. "Steve?"
"Did you and Wayne ever…?" Steve asked Tony, finally breaking his silence. "Please tell me you…"
Tony broke out laughing, nearly falling into Steve's arms. "Me and tall, dark and brooding? Please. I prefer my men patriotic, and, uh, emotionally stable…"
Natasha smirked. "I don't know, I thought he was pretty cute."
"You just like him cause he kicked your ass."
She glared at Clint. "I'll take your lunchbox."
"Hey, it's my lunchbox now!" Tony cried, affronted. Natasha raised an eyebrow, a plan settling into place.
"Not if I get there first."
Clint was already halfway into the air vent by the time she'd spoken, legs dangling from the ceiling.
"Oh, it's on."
"How were the Avengers?"
Bruce just sighed. "And I thought we were dysfunctional."
"They were really that bad? What happened?"
The monitor in front of him was suddenly very appealing. Bruce cleared his throat.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Absolutely nothing. Now go save a kitten, or whatever the hell you do in your free time."
Clark looked affronted, placing his hands on his hips. "I'm having lunch with Diana."
"Good. Tell her I said hi." Bruce tapped his keyboard. "By the way. I have something for you."
Clark grabbed the item tossed his way out of the air, used to Bruce's antics. The man had a thing for throwing things. "A...lunchbox?"
"From a true fan," Bruce said, deadpan. "You're welcome."
"Thanks...I guess?"
"Don't mention it."
The End.