Chapter Text
“Ugh,” Tony said, waking up on January 2nd with the worst hangover he’d had in years. Probably the worst hangover he’d had since he was dying of palladium poisoning.
“Mmmhmm?” Steve said from beside Tony on the bed, sounding way too amused and not nearly hung over enough for Tony’s headache-filled brain to enjoy.
“Ugggghhhh,” Tony said, groaning even longer than before, but not louder, because he knew from experience that louder noises would hurt him even further.
There was the sound of Steve rolling off his side of the bed, and the next thing he knew a glass of water and a couple of pills were being pushed into Tony’s hand. He took them without looking at them, trusting Steve to bring him whatever pain meds would fix him as soon as possible. The water was a nice touch too. Tony had always been more of a dry-swallow sort of pill taker, but the first time Tony had done that in front of Steve, Steve had looked at him with such pain that Tony hadn’t even argued with the continual glasses of water showing up in his hand whenever he needed to take an aspirin or a Sudafed or what have you.
Tony popped the pills, swallowed the water, and then closed his eyes for just a few more seconds.
When he opened them again, the sun was much higher in the sky, no longer shining in through his windows as it had earlier that morning, and Tony’s bed was empty. Except, of course, for Tony.
Feeling much less like his brain was being jack-hammered, he pulled himself out of bed and went in search of his Steve.
That was how his morning brain tended to classify Steve, and Tony couldn’t help but find it… endearing. If he was allowed to find things his own sleep-deprived self did endearing.
Steve was found down in the common area’s kitchen, making french toast and chatting with Clint and Thor.
Tony shuffled in, cast a weary glance over the three men in the kitchen, and said, his voice still thick with sleep, “Blond Brigade?”
Clint snorted and Steve let out a light sigh.
“Feeling any better, Tony?” Steve asked.
Tony grumbled assent and then slid himself slowly onto a stool at the breakfast counter.
“Oh!” Thor said, concern tingeing his voice, “were you unwell, Friend Tony?”
Tony made a gurgling noise and let himself slump in his seat until he was at the right height to let his forehead drift down to rest on the marble countertop.
“Tony,” Steve chided lightly.
“Don’t worry Steve,” Clint said. “I can translate Tony-speak. What he meant to say was, ‘Nay, Friend-Thor, I was but hungover because last night I decided to get into a drinking contest with two Ex-Russian spies.’”
Tony groused slightly, but was too tired to get really offended, and instead stuck an arm out in Steve’s direction and made a grabbing motion with his hand.
“That’s hardly accurate, Clint,” Steve said dismissively. “That makes it sound like they’re ex-Russians. Bucky was never Russian to begin with.”
“Winter Soldier,” Tony croaked lightly.
A mug was placed in his hand, the one still making the grabbing motion, and he lifted himself up and brought it to his lips without looking at it.
As soon as the hot liquid hit his tongue he felt better. It was perfect. Coffee made just the way he liked it. He took another large gulp of the burning liquid and felt more himself with every drop that slid across his tongue.
“Just because he was an assassin for the Soviets doesn’t mean he’s Russian, Tony. He’s as Brooklyn as I am.”
“And you are very Brooklyn,” Tony agreed, having found his voice by way of liberal amounts of coffee.
“Why did you challenge Natasha and Bucky to a battle of consumption?” Thor asked.
Steve set a plate of French toast in front of Tony and then topped off his mug.
Very seriously, Tony turned to Steve and said, “I love you.”
“We know,” Clint complained. “It’s disgusting! Thank god I’ll never be as sappy as the two of you are.”
Even Thor raised his eyebrows at that. Whatever Clint and Coulson had going on was not nearly as secret nor as un-sappy as Clint seemed to think it was.
Tony, deciding that he didn’t have the energy to have that conversation this morning, turned to Thor with the answer to his question. Well. An answer. It wasn’t a very good one, but…
“I honestly thought I could outlast them,” he told the god.
Thor blinked at him and Clint outright laughed.
“It was vodka,” Steve stressed, as if Tony was not very much aware of that.
“I didn’t say it was a good answer,” Tony said with a groan. “I was already drunk by that time. It’s not like I would have thought it was a good idea while sober.”
“Sure,” Clint said with raised eyes.
Now that was a little insulting.
Tony gasped in mock offense. “How dare you! I would never have made such a challenge while unimpaired.”
“Tony, I mean this with love and affection,” Steve said gently, “but you absolutely would have.”
Tony clapped a hand to his heart and gasped, as if he’d just been hit. “God! The betrayal! The pain!”
Steve rolled his eyes with a tiny little smile.
“I believe you, Friend-Tony,” Thor said with solemnity, and also a small quirk to his lips that betrayed his amusement.
“Well, I never!” Tony said, and stuck a fork-full of french toast in his mouth to punctuate his words. And then he tasted the food, and said, with a full mouth, “Oh shit, this is good.”
“Thanks Tony,” Steve said drily. “You could have waited to say it until you’d swallowed, though.”
Tony raised an eyebrow, curled his mouth into a leer, and opened his mouth, about to share some swallow-themed innuendo with the table, when Clint interrupted him.
“Actually,” Clint said, “I’ve been meaning to mention it, only what with the holidays and then New Years, I thought it could wait, but I know we’re being more open and all,” he waved his hands wildly, “share-y about our birthday plans, but—”
Tony swallowed a painfully large mound of french toast in order to cut Clint off with an excited, “What?”
“Clint,” Steve said, “you’re birthday’s this month, right?”
“Yeah,” Clint said, “it’s next Wednesday, actually, and—”
“Oh my god,” Tony said, smacking himself in the head, “I knew I was forgetting something!” Between Bruce’s birthday, Fury’s muscle car, Chanukah, Christmas, Jól, and New Year’s Eve, Tony had completely forgotten that Clint’s birthday was coming up too.
Clint waved his worries away with a few quick motions of his hand. “It’s fine. If I’d really wanted to make it a big thing I would have mentioned it before. Plus, there was a lot of stuff going on last month, for all of us. We were all busy. Don’t worry about it.”
“But what is it?” Tony asked, letting his anxiety drain out of him slightly. “And don’t worry about short notice. I can do short notice.”
He’d done a viking-themed party on short notice. He’d built a whole muscle car on short notice. He was great with short notice.
“Well,” Clint said, propping his chin on his hand, “I’ve been thinking about it. And it’s so damn cold here, part of me is thinking “Beach.” But also, it’s been a while since I’ve kicked everyone’s ass at miniature golf, so that’s tempting too.” He see-sawed his hand back and forth. “I’ve really had a hard time making up my mind. And both should be easy enough, right? No need to decorate the ballroom. Just a trip somewhere else.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “First of all, you wound me. Do you really think I can’t organize a beach vacation that doesn’t also involve putt-putt? Seriously? Second of all,” he sighed here, loud and dramatic, “you’ve got to start dreaming bigger. A beach vacation? Putt-putt?”
Clint rolled his eyes. “It’s gotta be a wheelchair accessible beach,” he pointed out.
“Coulson’s wheelchair flies,” Tony rejoined.
Clint gave him a look and Tony threw his hands up in the air.
“Yes! Obviously I’ll make sure the beach is wheelchair accessible!”
There was a long moment and then Clint said, “So… a beach vacation?”
“Yes,” Tony said. “Absolutely.”
“I will acquire for us nautical apparatus,” Thor offered.
“Like diving equipment?” Clint asked, sounding half interested, half confused.
“I was thinking of gathering more, and perhaps higher quality, versions of the implements Darcy provided the last time Jane and I visited the ocean.”
“Please don’t be something freaky,” Tony said, crossing his fingers.
Steve rapped a gentle knuckle against Tony’s head and Tony grinned at him without shame.
“Nay,” Thor said, not a hint of embarrassment in his voice or demeanor. “Darcy provided us with inflatable rings in which to float in the water, and also an inflatable ball to throw at one another. And projectile weapons, which use water as well.”
“Pool toys,” Clint said with relief.
“Aye,” Thor said. “I will acquire for us many of these pool toys for our adventure.”
“I’ll book us a private island,” Tony offered easily.
“Uhhh,” Clint said.
“Not an island kind of guy?” Tony asked. “Okay, what about Bali? Bali is beautiful in January. Or how about Malaysia? Malaysia has beautiful beaches. I can buy—”
Steve coughed into his fist.
“I mean rent. Borrow? Rent. I can rent us a bungalow right on the water. It’ll be beautiful.”
Clint pursed his lips. “Do they have mini golf in Malaysia?”
Tony threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know! J?”
JARVIS’s cultured tones responded immediately. “There are several miniature golf establishments in and around the most populated areas of Malaysia.”
“Thanks JAR,” Tony said, and then made a “see, there!” hand gesture at Clint.
Still Clint didn’t look completely convinced.
“Well,” Steve said, “what were you thinking, Clint?”
Clint shrugged. “I don’t know. Some hotel on the beach in Florida?”
Tony clutched his chest. “My god,” he said. “You could choose any beach in the world, and you choose Florida?”
“Maybe Daytona?” Clint continued.
Tony dramatically flailed his other hand around until it too was clutching at his chest. “Daytona?” he asked, aghast.
“If I may,” JARVIS cut in, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but January temperatures in Daytona are still in the mid-60s range, and while that temperature is a great deal warmer than here, it would still make a rather chilly dip in the Atlantic, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Clint drooped a little. “Aww,” he said, morosely.
“Why?” Tony asked, really confused now, “are you that upset over us not having to go to Daytona, Florida? There are way more beautiful beaches in other parts of the world. There are more beautiful beaches elsewhere in Florida, even. What about Miami?”
“Low 70s,” JARVIS said.
When Clint didn’t immediately perk up, Tony caught Steve’s eye and mouthed, “What the fuck?”
Steve shook his head at Tony, just as confused.
“Friend,” Thor said, putting a hand on Clint’s shoulder, “if you share with us why you want to vacation in this… Florida, so badly, we will find a solution.”
“Yeah,” Steve added. “It sounds less like you want a trip to the beach and more like you want a trip to Florida in general.”
Tony opened his mouth to emphasize Why Florida? but Steve put a hand out to stop him and Tony closed his mouth with a grimace.
Clint hesitated for a long moment but finally sighed and said, “You know I used to be in the circus?”
Clint had mentioned it a time or two, although Tony didn't have too many details about that time in Clint’s life. If Clint talked about his time in the circus, it was always in funny little anecdotes. He never mentioned how he’d ended up there in the first place, or how he’d come to leave. And yes, ok, alright, Tony had tried to find out that information in the early days of them knowing each other— Not the circus thing. Tony hadn’t known about the circus thing back then. But he’d tried to find information on all of the team, not just Clint, any information he might find useful at all, to try and figure out what kind of people these new Avengers were. Clint’s and Natasha’s history had been completely hidden. Erased maybe. By SHIELD.
So yes, Tony knew Clint had been in a circus, but he didn’t know the name of the circus, or what years Clint had been a member of the circus, or what any of it had to do with Florida.
“Yes,” Steve said to Clint. “You’ve mentioned it a few times, but I didn’t want to pry.”
Clint’s eyes wavered and then his gaze moved to the window. “I won’t say my time there had a happy ending, and I won’t say that the reason I joined in the first place was exactly apple pie either, but I have a lot of happy memories from back then. Especially from when I was younger, and everything seemed so amazing. The animals, the acrobats, the clowns, even the ringmaster. I didn’t start out doing stunts. I started cleaning out the animal enclosures, making sure the elephants and tigers had enough to eat, taking care of the equipment, stuff like that. It was hard work, but…”
“But they were good days,” Tony said.
Clint nodded.
“And Florida?” Thor asked, pronouncing the state, as he had every time he’d said it all morning, like he’d never heard the word before and wasn’t sure exactly what it meant.
Clint let out a chuckle. “We used to winter in Gibtown. That’s what’s in Florida. A lot of circus-folk, carnies, sword swallowers and sideshow acts used to spend the off-season there. Everywhere else in the world, when we rolled into town it was all about the fantastic, the acts and the bright lights, the noises and the colors. Everywhere else, and we were on. Everyone was looking at us. But in Gibtown everyone else was also part of the show, even if they weren’t part of, you know, our show. You could walk down the street and see lion tamers training in their front yard. The local postmaster had been billed as “The Half Girl” in her youth— only two and half feet tall. Her husband, the Giant, was the volunteer firefighter and deputy Sheriff.”
Tony did not feel like he could personally relate, but Clint’s tone was so wistful that Tony found himself saying, “That sounds nice,” and genuinely meant it.
Clint looked at him. “It was nice being amongst people with a common goal, and a common lifestyle. I have fond memories of the place.” He sighed and shook his head. “Of course, even by the time I was joining my circus in wintering in Gibtown it was way past its hey-day. The bearded woman would wax poetic about what Gibtown used to be like. But still, to me it was magic.”
Steve shifted on his feet. “You know,” he said, sounding slightly uncomfortable, “even if we go back, it’s unlikely that—”
“It’s changed,” Clint said. “I get it. It’s not like I haven’t looked it up or anything. I do have Google, you know.”
“Aye,” Thor said. “Tony does indeed offer us the speediest of internet. Quicker than both the internet provided by The Grift Artisanal Coffees and Teas,” (Tony could hear the capitals in his words), “and the internet provided at the McDonald’s eatery where the eighth avenue crosses with the thirty-fourth street.”
He said the street names like he himself had been the one to count eight avenues up and thirty-four streets across.
“Thor,” Tony said, “buddy, no. You do not have to inflict either McDonald’s wifi, or their food, on yourself ever again.”
“I enjoy their Filet O’ Fish,” Thor said proudly.
“Dear god,” Tony muttered to himself.
“But you still want to go back,” Steve said, thankfully returning Tony to the plot at hand.
Clint hesitated but then nodded. “I know it’s different. There are articles about how it’s different now than it used to be— well, actually, the articles mostly focus on how it used to be, but still. I get the picture. It’s not like it once was. But… I want to see it,” he said, kind of desperately.
This didn’t seem like a difficult task, frankly.
“Ok,” Tony said, “easy peasy. JARVIS, book us a trip to Gibtown, Florida.”
“I believe the town’s actual name is Gibsonton,” JARVIS said. “And it looks like it is fairly close to Apollo beach, if a beach trip is still in the cards. The weather should be in the low 70’s. Perhaps not the most comfortable temperature to go bathing in, but certainly not as cold as it could be.”
“Uhhhh,” Clint said, “so it’s not near Daytona?”
“Were you really going to take us all the way to Daytona just so you could sneak off to Gibtown once we got there?” Tony asked. “Clint, that’s insane. You could just have said something from the get-go, you know?”
Steve, who was looking at handy map of Florida that JARVIS had pulled up, said, “Clint, Daytona is literally nowhere near Gibsonton. They’re on opposite coasts of the state. Daytona’s on the Atlantic. Apollo beach is on the Gulf. They’re not even the same body of water.”
“Hahaha,” Clint said awkwardly. “Ooops?”
Tony sighed. “It’s a good thing we caught this early. Having to chase you halfway across the state would have been such a waste of beach-time.”
“Then we are agreed?” Thor asked. “We will visit this town of Clint’s childhood, and then spend time diving in the waters of the,” here he only paused slightly, “Gulf?”
“Sounds good to me,” Clint said, sounding oddly relieved.
Really, Clint, Tony thought to himself, you’re allowed to just ask for what you want.
“Wait,” Clint said.
“What now?” Tony asked.
“Yes?” Steve asked, because he was much nicer than Tony.
“Do they have mini golf there?”
“Are you serious?” Tony asked. “It’s Florida! Of course they’ve got mini golf. It’s practically a state-requirement.”
“There are a plethora of miniature golf establishments in the area,” JARVIS confirmed.
“Oh good,” Clint said. “I’m looking forward to strolling down memory lane, and I’m excited for the beach, but it really wouldn’t be my birthday if I didn’t whoop everyone’s asses in putt-putt golf.”
Which was such bullshit. Tony was totally going to kick Clint’s ass, birthday or no.
It was early in February when at a family dinner, Tony turned to Thor and said, “And what would you like to do for your birthday.”
“Oh yeah!” Darcy said, pausing with her fork halfway to her mouth. The meatball balanced precariously on the top of it teetered, but did not fall back down onto the plate. “I forgot we gave you a February birthday!”
“Tis a nice time of year to celebrate one’s birth.”
Tony found it cold and dreary, actually, but hey, whatever, to each their own.
“Hopefully not another beach party,” Bruce said with a sigh.
“Hey!” Clint complained. “That was a fun day!”
“I got sunburn and somehow got a cold,” Bruce complained.
“That’s why you don’t go swimming when it’s cold out,” Bucky said.
Steve nodded very seriously. “You’ll catch your death.”
“You were in the water!” Bruce complained. “Both of you!”
“Super soldiers,” Steve said with an apologetic shrug.
“Super body,” Tony interpreted. He glanced at Bruce. “I didn’t get in the water.”
Of course, that was more because Tony didn’t do so great with water ever since the whole waterboarding thing in the cave, with the car battery that was keeping him alive attached to his chest and being electrical and also being so close to water, and also Tony thought he might drown if he kept thinking about it, so he turned his head to the side and let the conversation pull him away from thoughts of electrifying himself and drowning at the same time.
“Ok,” Bruce said, “what excuse does everyone else have? How was I the only one to get double whammied with a sunburn and a cold?”
“Well,” Clint said, “I’m the very picture of perfect physical health. Also I put on sunscreen.”
“I put on sunscreen,” Bruce complained.
“You tried your best,” Sam said consolingly.
“You’ve got very sensitive skin,” Jane said. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Darcy does too.”
“It’s true,” Darcy said. “Not that that’s ever stopped me from showing off my latest bikinis.”
“But you didn’t get sunburn,” Bruce pointed out petulant.
“Sure I did,” Darcy said.
Bruce looked at her and blinked. “I didn’t see any sunburn on you.”
“You were sick,” Darcy said with a wave of her hand. “It also wasn’t anywhere that could be seen when I wasn’t wearing a bikini.”
Bruce flushed.
“Well,” Tony said, “now that we’ve got that out of the way, and before anyone is prompted to share their embarrassing sunburn location stories, I’m going to pivot back to Thor.” He pointed at Thor with his fork. “What would you like to do for your birthday this year?”
Steve, who was sitting close enough to Tony that their shoulders rubbed every time one of them reached for another piece of garlic bread, gently pushed Tony’s arm down so he was no longer pointing his fork at Thor.
“Well drats,” Coulson said drily, “and here I was about to share about the time I got sunburned on my—”
Clint clapped a hand over Coulson’s mouth, and Tony could see the twinkle in Coulson’s eyes above Clint’s hand.
He glanced at Natasha and she rolled her eyes in a very familiar fashion. It was her Do you really think you’re fooling anybody look. Tony was quite used to it, because she used to give to him all the time about Steve. It would have been more refreshing to see her use it on someone else except this was Clint and Coulson here and it was getting really incredibly obvious.
“Birthday. Party,” Tony said, looking purposefully at Thor.
“Party!” Darcy reiterated cheerfully.
“Well,” Thor began, as if he was just about to start a long and involved story full of intrigue and daring acts of bravery and etcetera and so on, “as I have learned more and more about Midgard and the cultures that exist in this fine world, the more I have become curious about this thing, which I have been told is not only entertaining, but also exhilarating, and as I have not yet taken it upon myself to experience this wondrous new experience alone, I thought I would ask my friends, my brothers and sisters in arms, and my loved ones, to join me in this new adventure.”
Tony blinked at Thor.
“That had a surprising lack of explanation, actually,” Steve said.
“Care to elaborate?” Natasha asked.
“Of course!” Thor boomed. “I will be more clear in my request.” He cleared his throat. “I would be most overjoyed if you all would join me as I first experience an Amusement Park.”
“Oh!” Clint said. “Hell yeah!”
Tony let out a long breath. “Thor, Point Break, my guy, why’d you build it up like that? I thought you were going to ask for something impossible.”
“Like what?” Thor asked.
“Don’t ask him that,” Bucky said. “What are we thinking? Luna park’s out of the question. They’re always closed until summer.”
“I think a lot of parks do that,” Jane pointed out. “Can’t make money on outdoor rides that are too cold to ride.”
“There’s always Disney,” Darcy said. “It won’t be too cold at the happiest place on earth.”
“Land or World?” Bruce said.
“What’s… the difference?” Bucky asked.
Darcy mimed getting stabbed in the chest. “You wound me! My god. James Barnes. If it’s the last thing I do I’m taking you to Disney World.”
Tony opened his mouth to defend Disneyland, and then decided that that wasn’t actually a fight he wanted to start.
“Ugh,” Clint said, “but Disney’s got shit roller coasters. We should go to Six Flags. Now they’ve got roller coasters that’ll make you puke.”
“Thanks, no thanks,” Bruce said.
“I could do without puking,” Jane agreed.
“We could go to one of the Six Flags that aren’t seasonally closed, sure,” Tony said, looking at different theme park operating schedules on his phone. “What’s your poison? Six Flags over Georgia, or Six Flags over Texas?”
“What about Universal?” Sam asked. “I used to go there with my family on vacations when I was a kid. Loved everything about it.”
“I think that might be a little too meta,” Bruce said.
“Besides,” Tony added, “we were just in Florida. We were just there! I have a yearly Florida maximum, and I already hit it last month.”
“Universal in Hollywood?” Darcy offered.
Tony really wouldn’t mind visiting California. He’d liked his house on the water, before it got destroyed. He had a lot of good memories in Malibu. Of course, he had a lot of bad memories there too, like when his house had been destroyed.
“Isn’t that one full of escalators,” Clint said, very judgmentally.
“What about Busch Gardens?” Sam asked.
Tony looked at Steve and raised his eyebrows.
“We went over this,” Clint said, “Busch Gardens is going to be closed for winter.”
Steve raised his eyebrows back at Tony. Neither one of them was in their element in this conversation.
“Not Busch Gardens Williamsburg,” Sam said. “I’m talking about Tampa.”
“We’re not going back to Florida,” Tony repeated very firmly.
“Ok,” Steve said, grabbing Tony’s phone and scrolling. “What about Knott’s Berry Farm. That looks… well. It says it’s an amusement park.”
“A farm?” Bucky said, his eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline, “is an amusement park? What? They got the ferris wheel over the corn fields or something?”
Darcy mimed getting stabbed even more times in the heart.
Steve read on. “No, it’s a regular theme park. It’s got rides and shows and, you know,” he made a wrap-it-up motion with his hand, “the kind of stuff I assume amusement parks have.”
“Beer,” Natasha said.
“Sure,” Steve breathed out, “I guess.”
Definitely beer. Tony was pretty sure about that one.
“So,” Coulson said, turning to Thor, “what do you think. It’s your birthday after all.”
“Yeah,” Tony added. “You get the final call. If you really want to go back to Florida,” he sighed, “then we’ll go back to Florida.”
“I liked Florida,” Sam said. “It was nice last month, it’ll be nice this month too.”
“You’re just saying that because you got second place in putt-putt,” Tony said.
“Damn right I did,” Sam said, “Mr. Never-got-better than third.”
“At least I did better than Clint,” Tony said.
“How come I couldn’t win even once on my birthday?” Clint asked.
“It’s ‘cause Steve cheats,” Bucky said, unapologetically.
All eyes turned to Steve and she shrugged, embarrassed and mildly apologetic. “Sorry Clint. I just can’t help myself.”
Clint dropped his face into his hands and groaned.
“Oh stop whining, you big baby,” Natasha said. “If you’re not cheating, what are you even doing?”
“At putt-putt?” Jane asked, more confused than anything else.
Tony caught Jane’s eyes and shrugged. He had no clue. Unlike the light of his life, Tony had won his third place title fair and square.
“So,” Darcy said, “Disney World?”
“Six flags?” Clint offered.
“Busch Gardens?” Sam said.
“Somewhere not in Florida?” Tony offered, eyebrows raised. “Knott’s Berry Farm, or Tokyo Disneyland, or Efteling?”
“I… do not know,” Thor said solemnly. “There are many choices, and as I have little knowledge about any of these wondrous-sounding locations, I find making a choice to be very difficult.” He put a hand to his chin in thought, and then finally said. “I think I would like to visit all of them, yes?”
Tony groaned. “What do you— even if we just spend a day at each place we’ll still be gone for weeks. There are hundreds of theme parks around the world.”
“Perhaps,” Thor said. “We can do all of the ones in a single geographical location?”
“Like… Florida?” Sam offered, his smile much too mischievous for Tony’s liking.
“I was thinking the farm one,” Thor said. “I much like the sound of that one. And are there other themed parks in the vicinity?”
Tony sighed. “Oh yes. Yes. There are many.”
“Excellent!” Thor boomed. “Than let us go!”
“I’ll book the hotel,” Natasha offered.
“I’ll come up with an itinerary,” Bruce said.
“I can make a packing list,” Steve said with a smile.
“Good, great,” Tony said, “I— that all sounds fine.” Getting to show off California to Steve actually sounded pretty fun, even if it sounded like they were going to spend a lot of time in theme parks and not on the beach. Maybe one day of their vacation he could steal Steve away to play hookey. Take him to Malibu. That might be fun.
The second day of their California vacation (which Darcy kept calling their California Adventure, and Tony refused to explain to Steve why Sam and Clint kept giggling over the name— Disney was next on their docket and he’d figure it out then) saw Thor sitting on a bench not far from the exit of Knott’s Berry Farm’s GhostRider, with Tony and most of the others who’d joined them on this trip hovering around him.
He looked pale.
He looked more than pale, actually. He looked ill.
Tony had never seen him like this. Thor was a god. Tony just assumed that he couldn’t get sick. Or at least he couldn’t get the kind of sick that regular humans get. He’d never seen Thor with the sniffles, never heard him complain about a headache, never seen him exhausted from anything other than intense physical activity— and even then, most of the time Thor seemed equally as full of energy after the exertions as he had before. Thor had never even looked mildly under the weather.
He looked way more than under the weather at the moment.
“Here,” Jane said, hurrying over to the group, “I found some ginger ale.”
“That should help,” Sam said, taking the ginger ale from Jane and handing it to Thor.
Thor moaned a little and leaned back, letting his head tip backwards, eyes squeezed shut, and raised the cold bottle to his forehead.
“That’s for drinking, sweetie,” Jane said gently, settling down on the bench beside the god of thunder and putting a hand on his shoulder.
Tony, watching the scene before him, watching Jane gently take the bottle from Thor’s hand and quickly twist off the lid before raising it to his lips, felt very out of his depth.
The others weren’t doing much better. Sam was sitting on Thor’s other side and was probably reacting the best out of all of them. While Jane had gone to find ginger ale Sam had been talking in low whispers with Thor, trying to make him more comfortable. Bruce had hustled Clint and Darcy, the nosiest nellies in the group (besides, maybe, Tony himself—but Steve was on Tony-wrangling duties this trip so Bruce didn’t have to worry about it), further away from Thor so their loud and talkative concern wouldn’t irritate Thor’s condition. Natasha had gone to get medicine, and Steve was standing beside Tony, making sure Tony didn’t do anything annoying or rash either.
(Coulson, the workaholic that he was, had opted not to come on this California Adventure. Bucky had come, but had taken one look at the crowds at the park and had gone back to the resort suite that Natasha had booked for them with Tony’s credit card).
“I just can’t believe this is happening,” Tony said quietly to Steve.
“Yeah,” Steve said. “I feel bad for the guy. I remember my first time on Shooting the Chutes at Coney Island. I upchucked my Feltmans’ dog all over Bucky’s brand new skips.” He shook his head and tsked over the misfortunes of his past.
Tony blinked at him for a moment, and then put on a faux-seductive voice and said, “Wow, you’re so sexy when you talk in word salad at me.”
Steve rolled his eyes.
“Also, mentioning throwing up?” Tony asked. “Very alluring.”
“Tony,” Steve complained.
“And speaking of throwing up, do you think Thor is going to hurl?”
Steve sighed. “I hope not, Tony. Throwing up isn’t a great way to celebrate a birthday.”
Tony, who’d thrown up on a majority of his birthdays—or at least a majority of the mornings the day after his birthday, nodded very seriously.
“I just can’t believe he got sick over a roller coaster,” Tony said, still feeling flummoxed by the entire situation.
“Not everyone can handle roller coasters,” Steve said. “For example: the first time I rode Shooting the Chutes. And that wasn’t even a roller coaster.”
“Babe,” Tony said very seriously, “I think pre-serum you could have gotten ill from rolling down a hill. You have the worst list of medical problems that I’ve ever seen.”
“I did throw up once after rolling down a hill,” Steve said. “But it had been a pretty big hill and Nigel Hove had tied my hands behind my back and blindfolded me before he pushed me down the—”
“What?” Tony demanded, his eyes wide.
Steve shrugged. “We were twelve. Don’t worry, when Buck found out he knocked Nigel out the second floor window of our classroom and Nigel lost a tooth.”
“What are we what-ing about?” Clint called from where he was standing with Bruce and Darcy.
Tony let out a sigh. He looked over to see Thor looking much better, having downed half the bottle of ginger ale and— and there Natasha was, giving him some medicine, which would hopefully fix him right up.
“Oh,” Steve called back evenly, “just sharing some youthful shenanigans.”
Understatement of the year.
Seeing that Thor was looking slightly better, Steve and Tony meandered closer, with Clint, Bruce, and Darcy not far behind.
As they all got within speaking range again, Clint said, in the tone of someone who’d said this same thing, and been shot down, multiple times before, “It’s so bizarre, seeing the god of thunder get a little motion sick over a roller coaster.”
Tony made a dramatic See? motion at Clint while staring very intently into Steve’s eyes.
Thor, voice still rough, said, “I am feeling better as every moment passes.”
“Still,” Jane said, voice unsure, “seeing you get sick like that…”
Steve shrugged. “Weirder things have happened.”
“No but seriously,” Tony disagreed. “Thor can fly. Thor, buddy, you can fly. I’ve seen you shoot around the sky with that hammer like you’re trying to make an F1 racer cry tears of envy. How did a roller coaster put you down for the count.”
Thor shrugged, his face one of surprised lack-of-understanding as well. “I know not,” he said. “But I cannot argue with the effects the Ghost’s ride did have on me.”
“Yeah,” Clint said. “Of course, man. We’re not trying to say you’re in the wrong or anything.”
“And it sucks that you’re feeling ill your first time on a coaster,” Sam said.
“But it’s a wooden coaster!” Tony said, pointing up at GhostRider itself. “If this one made you sick…”
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“Maybe we should stick to slow rides today,” Darcy said.
“Aye,” Thor said, more of a slow groan than anything else.
“So no Xcelerator?” Clint asked.
Thor groaned at the very thought, and because Coulson was back in New York, Natasha thankfully stepped up and flicked Clint on the forehead.
“I don’t want to do anything for my birthday,” Bucky had told Tony when Tony had asked him if he had any party ideas in the last week of February.
“I’m not interested in celebrating, this year,” Bucky had reiterated, when Steve had asked Bucky what he wanted to do for his birthday over team dinner in early March.
“Seriously,” Tony overheard Bucky tell Natasha a few days before his birthday. “I’m not really in the mood for a party. I don’t even know what kind of presents I’d possibly want. And frankly, a birthday cake would just ruin my girlish figure.”
(Tony really did like Bucky, now that he’d actually gotten to know the guy. A real wise-ass. Tony could relate.)
On March 10th, Tony waited.
Bucky didn’t want to celebrate, so they wouldn’t celebrate. Bucky didn’t want to make a big deal of his birthday, so they wouldn’t make a big deal of his birthday.
See?
Tony could totally respect people’s boundaries.
But, it was still Bucky’s birthday, and party or not, if Tony didn’t do something for Bucky, well, he’d feel like shit.
Bucky and him might have had a rocky start. A very long and fraught rocky start. But that didn’t mean that Bucky didn’t deserve something special on his birthday. And if Bucky wanted to be left alone, if he wanted his birthday to pass unacknowledged, well, Tony could (mostly) do that.
So Tony waited until he thought that Bucky would be happily avoiding everyone else, and went up to Bucky’s door.
He knocked.
There was no answer.
He knocked again.
Still no answer.
“Jay,” Tony said, “Buckster is in there, right?”
“Quite right, Sir,” JARVIS said quietly.
Tony knocked a third time.
“Is he asleep or something?” he asked JARVIS.
Bucky always seemed to already be awake when Tony made it down to breakfast in the morning, so Tony had assumed the guy was an early riser, but maybe not.
“Life signs in this set of rooms do show that the occupant is awake and moving around,” JARVIS said.
So he was ignoring Tony.
Well. That just wouldn’t do.
And maybe it wasn’t any of Tony’s business, and Bucky was obviously avoiding Tony for a reason, but if Tony just didn’t talk to everyone who didn’t want to talk to him, he’d have to severely cut down on the number of conversations he was having a day and that just wouldn’t do at all.
Tony rapped even harder on the door with his knuckles and raised his voice to be heard through the door. “Bucky! Are you seriously going to make me wait out here all day? I thought we were better than that!”
There was another long pause, long enough that Tony had his fist raised to really hammer on the door, when the door was wrenched open from the inside and Tony got a good eyeful of the birthday boy himself.
He didn’t look… bad. His hair was wet, like he’d gotten out of the shower less than an hour ago, and he was dressed in what were definitely lounge clothes.
He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned a shoulder against the door jam in order to keep Tony from thinking that he was about to be invited in, and said, “Whadaya want, Tony?”
There was a tension in his jaw, in the way his metal arm was crossed protectively over his flesh one, that made Tony think that Bucky really, really didn’t want to be talking to Tony at the moment.
Ok.
So.
Tony could work with that. He could talk quick.
He was good at that.
Tony pulled a key ring from his pocket and held it out to Bucky. From the keychain hung a battered key and also a miniature of the Statue of Liberty with “I <3 New York” in red wrapped around the base.
Bucky’s arms unlatched themselves from each other and he made an aborted move to reach out to take the key. He paused halfway through reaching out, one hand hovering half-raised in the air between them, the other hanging limply by his side.
Tony shook the key ring in front of Bucky’s face and it jingled pleasantly.
“What is that?” Bucky said, and then his arm stuttered slightly before it continued its movement to reach for the keys. He took the ring from Tony’s fingers very gently.
“This,” Tony said as Bucky raised the key to give it a close examination, “is a key.”
Bucky huffed and said, “Yeah, no shit. What’s it to?”
“It’s to an RV,” Tony said.
Bucky raised an eyebrow at him.
Tony rolled his eyes and said, “RV stands for ‘Recreational Vehicle.’ It’s a large bus-like thing, but instead of lots of seats it’s got room for, like, a bed and a kitchenette, and a—”
“I know that,” Bucky finally cut in gruffly. “What I want to know is why would you give me the key to an RV?”
How to answer that without mentioning his birthday?
Tony shrugged. “I thought you might like to get out, go see the world. You don’t have to take it. Or you can take it and not use it. I don’t care.” He shrugged. “It’s your life.”
Bucky frowned first at Tony and then at the key he was holding. “So,” he said slowly, “you’re letting me use your RV? In case I want to… see the world?”
“Take a road trip,” Tony said. “Road trips are good for the soul. Good for your mental health. And also, no, I’m not letting you use my RV to do shit. I don’t have an RV. I’m a billionaire. If I was going to go on a road trip I’d just buy a house at every town we stopped at. And by house I mean mansion. Listen. I’m giving you an RV so you can go and see the world. If you want. Or just go and see the continental U.S. Drive yourself up to Poughkeepsie. Take it to a Walmart. Just. You know. It’s yours.”
Bucky blinked at him. Slowly.
Tony shifted on his feet. He wasn’t good at silences.
“I just, you know,” Tony said. “You’re here. Of course. You’re welcome to stay here, with us and Steve and,” he waved his hands up in the air, “whatever. You know that. This is your home. Obviously. Obviously. But it occurred to me that you don’t have your own thing. Like. If you wanted to get out of here, go on vacation, go see the world, go leaf peeping, you don’t have any way to do that. Without asking us. Or stealing shit. Which.”
“I wouldn’t rob someone just to go… did you say leaf peeping?”
“It’s when you take a vacation to go specifically watch leaves changing colors in the fall.”
Bucky sighed. “We live in New York, Tony. Leaves change colors here.”
“Whatever. I’m just saying. If you wanted to go somewhere, I wanted you to have the opportunity to do so. Freedom to get out and see the world. Well, I mean, I guess you get to get out when you’re being sent out to shoot people in the face.”
“I don’t shoot people in the face,” Bucky said, but he wasn’t looking at Tony. He was looking at the key, resting in his palm.
“Anymore,” Tony clarified. “But besides missions, you should still have the opportunity to stretch your legs. Your metaphorical legs. That’s why I gave you an RV and not a new pair of tennis shoes.”
“The RV,” Bucky said, “is… my metaphorical legs.”
“Yeah,” Tony said. “Right on the money.”
“But you’re not kicking me out,” Bucky said.
Tony reared back. “What?! Excuse me? Did I—” He shook his head as if to clear something out of his ears. “Did I just hear you fucking ask me that? Hell no I’m not kicking you out! I just— I just told you this is your home! I’m actually incredibly—”
Bucky cut Tony off again, this time by putting the hand not holding the key ring on Tony’s shoulder and saying, “Thank you. Tony, really, this means a lot.”
Tony’s tirade ground to a halt and he stuttered in place for a second before centering himself and saying, “Of course,” and “You’re welcome,” and “It’s whatever. Really.”
Admiring the key to the RV with visible interest, Bucky said quietly, almost to himself, “Anywhere in the world, huh?”
“Well,” Tony corrected, “anywhere with roads. It is an RV after all. If you like it and you want to push it further maybe I’ll get you a helicopter for your next— uh, um…”
He trailed off after belatedly remembering that there was a ban on celebrating Bucky’s birthday. He wasn’t sure if mentioning next year’s birthday violated their current treaty or not, but he was actively trying not to upset Bucky on his (unmentionable) birthday.
Bucky made a sound that was half sigh and half laugh. “It’s ok, Tony,” Bucky said. “It’s… I’m grateful. I didn’t want people mentioning it because… well,” he shrugged awkwardly, “I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. And I didn’t… I didn’t really want a reminder that I don’t… I don’t…”
“Hey, man,” Tony said, “you don’t owe me an explanation. You don’t have to tell me anything if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Bucky sighed. “I told Steve,” Bucky said, “and he kind of gets it. I don’t… I don’t know how old I am. If all those years going on and off the ice should count. I wasn’t really aging. I’m still not really… but I was on ice a lot so maybe that’s why… and I just don’t want a reminder of how long it’s been since I’ve been out in the world living a real life. I was born on March 10th 1917. By rights today I should be turning 98. I don’t look 98. I don’t feel 98, although some days I feel even older. But… there was just so much of my life I missed. So much that is just… gone.”
Bucky was right. Tony didn’t really know how that felt.
“Steve’s in the same boat,” Tony said, “mostly. Only he didn’t get all the bonus time off ice and brainwashing that you got, but,” he waved his hands around to indicate that he hadn’t really meant to say that, “but he’s turning 97 this year. He’s… he’s missed time too. Missed his life. Like you have. Different in some ways but the same in others. Not that that makes it better. For either of you. I’m not saying that. But,” Tony shrugged, “at least you’re not alone.”
Bucky nodded immediately. “Yeah. That’s…” he swallowed and looked down, “I’m damn grateful that I’m not alone.” He puffed out a breath, looked to the side for a moment, and then turned back to Tony with a lighter expression on his face. “You give Stevie an RV too?”
“That man’s a menace on the road,” Tony said. “And I’m talking as a professional road menace, he’s goddamned worse. I’m not giving him a vehicle for him to drive, ever, if I can help it.”
That made Bucky laugh.
“And you’re not kicking me out?” Bucky asked again, although this time at least it sounded like he was laughing.
Tony rolled his eyes. “No I’m not kicking you out! I just thought you wouldn’t accept a credit card with no limit and an invitation to use that to travel the globe.”
Bucky had recoiled slightly when he’d heard “credit card with no limit,” and shook his head very slightly at Tony.
“That’s what I thought,” Tony said. “Next best thing: an RV. It’s stocked with maps of every part of the continental US, and is also bulletproof. Just by the way. I don’t expect you to get shot up, but it just seems like asking for trouble if anything I touch nowadays isn’t made bulletproof.”
“Smart thinking,” Bucky said.
He tossed the key up into the air and caught it.
“I don’t think I want to go out road tripping quite yet,” he said.
Tony shrugged. “That’s fine. The RV isn’t going anywhere. It’s in the garage.”
“Huh,” Bucky said. “Cool. I think… I mean, I’m not going to go anywhere, but if, like you said, the RV is mine, well, I think I should at least take a look at it, right? Maybe test drive it? See how it handles.”
“Sure,” Tony said easily. His part was done. He’d sold Bucky on the RV, what Bucky did with it now was completely not his business.
Mostly not his business.
“Ok,” Bucky said, throwing the key into the air and catching it repeatedly now. “This is fine. I’m just going to give it a looksee.” He stepped out into the hall beside Tony and closed the door behind him. “Shouldn’t take me long.” He started walking down the hall towards the elevator to the garage. “I’ll just take a look around it real quick.”
“Take your time, Bucky-boy,” Tony said, watching Bucky move quickly down the hall. “It’s not going anywhere.”
The next day at breakfast Steve said, “Has anyone seen Bucky? I haven’t seen him around since yesterday morning. I don’t want to get worried, but…”
But Steve always worried about Bucky. It was either adorable or annoying depending on how much coffee Tony had had yet that day.
Those gathered for breakfast (Natasha, Clint, Coulson, Sam, and Bruce) looked at each other with questioning glances, shrugs, and raised eyebrows galore.
“Hey, Jay?” Tony asked into the questioning silence of the common area’s breakfast table. “Is Bucko in the building?”
“Sgt. Barnes is not currently in the tower,” JARVIS said. “He exited the building approximately eighteen minutes after your conversation terminated yesterday.”
“What?” Steve asked, turning to face Tony, a question in his eyes.
“You scare him off, Tony?” Clint asked, but it was so obviously a joke that Tony only glared at Clint a little bit.
“I gave him a birthday gift,” Tony said.
Steve hummed, a frown curving his lips downward. “You know he asked us not to celebrate his birthday,” Steve said.
“I know,” Tony said, “which is why I didn’t mention his birthday at all when I showed up at his door.
“Now you’re just being a tease,” Natasha said. “It sounds like you should know where he is. Stop holding it over our heads.”
Tony sighed. “Fine! I gave him an RV and told him he could go and tour the country in that thing whenever he liked. He said he wasn’t going anywhere right away, which— that’s cool. I told him it was his, he could do with it what he liked. Take it out whenever he wanted. It didn’t have to be right away. But then he said he was going to take a look at the thing, and…” he shrugged.
“The call of the streets was too strong,” Sam said with a laugh.
“I guess so,” Tony said.
Steve sighed, and his worried expression dropped away. “That was very nice of you, Tony. Thank you.”
“For what?” Clint asked. “Lending your BFF his RV whenever he wanted.”
“Seriously!” Tony explained. “Why do I have to keep explaining this to people! I’m too rich to own an RV. The RV is all his.”
Clint snorted. “Too rich to own an RV?” he asked incredulously. “If I was rich I’d own ten RVs. No, twenty!”
“And that’s why you’ll never be rich,” Tony said. “You’d squander it all on an army of RVs.”
“Maybe,” Clint said, faux-seductively, “I could marry into money?” He leaned across the table and met Tony’s gaze through half-lidded eyes.
“Woah,” Steve said, finally stepping in, “hold on just a minute. That’s the love of my life you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, Clint,” Natasha said, “find your own millionaire.”
Clint raised his hands in surrender. “Ok. No seducing Tony. Even though it might be the only way to get the thirty RVs I know I deserve.”
“That’s right,” Steve said, very seriously.
“Down, Barton,” Coulson said, a hint of amusement tingeing his words.
“Yes sir,” Clint said happily, and immediately dropped the bit, even though Tony had been prepared to let it go along for a while. Sometimes Tony liked to tease Steve like that, and Clint could be like a dog and a bone. Watching those two fight over Tony’s hand was bound to be hilarious.
But hey.
He supposed if anyone was going to make Clint drop the bit, it would be Coulson.
“So,” Steve said, turning to Tony, “any clue where Bucky went?”
“None,” Tony said honestly. “The RV was fitted out with maps for most of the country, but for all I know he just pointed the giant beige monstrosity in a direction and drove off.
“Hmmm,” Steve said. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“Steve,” Tony said, “Babe, sweetheart. I’ve shared with the class everything I know about the situation. You’re now completely up to speed. If you don’t know something, I definitely don’t know that something.”
“Okay,” Steve said slowly. “That’s fair. I just… you know I worry.”
Tony’s heart melted a little bit.
(It looked like he’d had enough coffee so far today).
“I know,” Tony said gently. “But he’s an adult. He’ll be fine. And I’m sure he won’t be gone that long.”
Steve nodded, but there was still something in his eyes that made Tony think that Steve wasn’t going to stop worrying about Bucky that easily.
“You know, Steve,” Tony said, “it is the twenty-first century. You could give him a call, see if—”
“Oh!” Steve interrupted, reaching for his phone. “That’s a great idea!”
He jumped to his feet as he dialed, and had the phone to his ear as he walked towards a more secluded area in order to not disturb the breakfasting group with his phone call. Just as he got far enough away that Tony could barely hear him, he heard Steve say, “Oh hey, Buck. Tony said he gave you a—” and then he was out of range of Tony’s ears.
Tony turned back to the table.
“Steve’s really like a mother duckling,” Bruce said, a small smile gracing his lips.
“Worry wart,” Clint diagnosed.
“I think it’s hilarious,” Sam said. “And sweet.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Tony said, raising his glass of orange juice up for a toast.