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Natasha, Thor and Darcy contemplated the substance in fascinated revulsion as it sat quivering in the dish, weeping a yellowish liquid. Behind them Clint slumped against the wall.
"I don't even understand how that could happen." said Natasha. Thor cautiously extended a finger and prodded it. Darcy shrieked.
"Don't just touch it with your bare hands! You have no idea what it could do to you!"
"Be not afraid Darcy, my Aesir physiology is immune to most toxins and contagions." Thor grinned. "Although given the unnatural nature of this object perhaps your concern is warranted."
"Aaaw, I hate you both." muttered Clint.
"Did you two see that? When Thor poked it I'm pretty sure it recoiled."
"Screw you too Nat."
"Hey look, here comes team science! Maybe they can explain this!" said Darcy brightly as Jane, Tony and Bruce entered the room. The latter rushed towards the sample, shooing them away from it.
"What the...what the hell do you think you're doing, analyzing unidentified substances in the damn KITCHEN? Do you know how many biohazard protocols you're violating right now? I'm going to need a level six containment unit here, and did I hear Thor touched it? I'll need full decontamination protocols for you three, and a lockdown of the common levels, and we're going to have to boil Thor. Again. Why's everyone laughing?"
"It's a pancake." said Clint sullenly.
Bruce stared at the oozing, gelatinous lump on the counter before him, which bore about as much resemblance to a pancake as it did to a wallaby or a small European car. "I'm sorry, I thought I heard you say it was a pancake."
"I did. It's a damn pancake okay? Something went slightly wrong when I was cooking it."
Bruce stared at him wide-eyed. In his career as an Avenger he had encountered aliens, mythical beasts and parallel dimensions but nothing had prepared him for this.
"How on Earth do you fuck up a pancake that badly Clint?"
"I think it's a superpower." offered Darcy. "Has he been tested for the X-mutation? Because no one should be able to do that to such an easy food without superpowers."
Natasha shook her head. "It's not a superpower. Everyone has a certain amount of competence and all of Clint's has gone into marksmanship, leaving nothing over for everyday domestic activities."
Tony had pulled some sort of probe from his pocket, and he and Jane were now examining the thing.
"Okay, let's get this thing down to the lab, run it through the mass spec, try and figure out what's happened here. Oh hi Capsicle."
"What's that?" asked Steve, all innocence.
"It's a god damned PANCAKE okay? That I cooked." Clint looked ready to shoot something.
"Oh okay. Is anyone going to eat it or can I have it?"
There was a stunned silence. "I really wouldn't Steve." ventured Natasha at last. "Thor won't eat it and I've seen him eat a hotdog he found on a park bench."
"You've kissed that mouth Foster." said Tony helpfully. Jane glared at Thor, who didn't look nearly as ashamed as he should have. Bruce, who had eaten far worse things than park bench hot dogs while he was on the run, kept silent.
"Even Clint's dog wouldn't eat it." added Darcy. Lucky fixed her with a single, baleful eye while Clint rubbed his ears and muttered "Traitor."
"Something that really annoys me about this century..." said Steve reaching for a fork "...is how much perfectly good food gets wasted just because it doesn't look pretty. I mean there are people in this country just as hungry as I was growing up, agriculture has a huge carbon footprint and the world's population keeps growing while climate change makes it harder and harder to grow food.' He took his first bite. There was an expectant pause.
"How is it?" asked Clint at last.
Steve took his time to choose his words carefully, or maybe the pancake was taking longer to chew into submission than he'd anticipated. "Unusual." he managed eventually, dumping at least half a bottle of syrup over the monstrosity on his plate before venturing another bite. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
Over the years the various Avengers and their friends had developed certain instincts. As one they slowly crept away from Steve in an ever expanding circle.
"How are you feeling Steve?" asked Natasha warily.
"I feel...strange. I think...I think I'm going to sit down, just for a moment."
Sensing trouble Lucky slunk behind the counter.
From: [email protected]
Topic: Enhancement: Supersoldier Serum Subject: Rogers, Steven Grant
Date: July 12, 15:36
Please update the "Known vulnerabilities" field of the subject's file to include "Agent Barton's cooking".
This is not a joke.
Dir. Hill.