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In 1996, Sam Wilson is always wearing his Scottie Pippen Chicago Bulls jersey.
“MJ would be nothing without Pippen,” he constantly and confidently explains to anyone who will listen. “Every Michael needs his Scottie.”
Sam thinks he’s a much better basketball player than he actually is, but he can hold his own if he can keep his trigger-happy hands from launching an unnecessary three-pointer in pick-up games. He’ll maybe make one per game (and will consider himself the next Steve Kerr because of it), but he makes up for it because he’s the absolute king of assists.
Sam and Carol Danvers lead the charge to get some S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and the Avengers together to play pick-up every Saturday morning at the closest park. Maria and Monica Rambeau always dutifully watch from the bleachers (the former acting like its her greatest weekend inconvenience, though they all know she loves it). Monica insists on bringing the boombox, acts as the official DJ as she switches back and forth between the local hip hop and classic rock stations, because Carol swears nothing gets her in the game like glam metal.
Steve Rogers can always be seen nervously pacing the sidelines (he doesn’t think it’d be fair if he and his bulging chest join the game; besides he’s always been more of a baseball kind of guy), acting as the unofficial referee, no matter how many times they explain to him that the very nature of street ball is no rules.
“I just don’t want anybody to get hurt,” he whines with a pout so unintentionally puppy-like that they can’t help but keep letting him ref.
They call Bucky Barnes “the silent assassin” because you forget he’s there until suddenly he’s dropped twenty buckets on you out of nowhere. He grumbles every time Sam smacks his ass after a good play, but they all share secret smirks at the way he also flushes.
Rambeau alternates between heckling Sam every time he bricks a shot and hollering, “Hell yeah, that’s my best friend!” whenever he does his signature fake right, dish left to a wide open Hawkeye who sinks the three or lobs a perfect alley oop to Thor for the slam dunk.
Speaking of Hawkeye, Clint Barton is absolutely useless unless he’s behind the arc. Can’t dribble worth shit, but no one’s ever seen him miss a shot. Not ever.
Natasha Romanoff doesn’t play but can always be found wearing the shortest shorts anyone’s ever seen as she lounges on the bleachers, bobbing her head to the radio and trading jokes with Monica. When the game ends, she husks out a ‘good game, boys’ until an insistent cough draws her attention to a playfully glowering Maria Hill (who is an absolute beast on defense and in the post with that delightfully long torso of hers).
Without fail, Natasha flashes her the kind of smirk that’ll make you have to gulp down an entire blue gatorade (the best flavor, in Carol's opinion, and she will argue you down on that) in one go.
“But of course as always, the ladies did it better.”
“Thank you.” That would be Carol interrupting the moment. She’s the self-proclaimed captain every week and takes pick-up games way too seriously. Peter Parker’s no longer allowed to play with them because everyone’s afraid her competitiveness with crush his tiny little earnest spirit.
Carol’s absolutely radiant when her team wins, though, immediately beelining it to the bleachers to hoist a cheering Monica onto her shoulders as she quirks an eyebrow at the girl’s pretending-not-to-be-impressed mother.
“Don’t I get something for winning?” Carol baits.
“Yeah, you get to follow this ass to the car so you can buy us lunch.”
There’s a chorus of “oooohs” and Carol pouts until Rambeau breaks down and plants a kiss on her lips. Monica scrambles off Carol’s shoulders to leap into the arms of an approaching Sam (in a frankly very dangerous maneuver that Maria side eyes with pursed lips) as they all head for the parking lot. Bruce Banner - who shows up late and smothered in sunscreen - consoles a ruddy faced Thor with an awkward pat on the back, because the God of Thunder is absolutely a sore loser.
(“These silly Midgard games have nothing on the grand arena events we’d hold on Asgard each century! There I am the undisputed champion!”)
Carol and Maria jump into their neighboring convertibles, playfully competing to see who can get Monica to ride with them until the girl proclaims “I want to ride with Uncle Sam!” Carol gapes and Maria rolls her eyes fondly as Sam triumphantly cackles.
“You raising her right, Rambeau,” Sam teases. “She knows quality when she sees it.”
Carol putting her middle finger on display in his direction just makes Sam laugh louder as he carries Monica over to his trusty blue Camry, followed a little too close by Bucky (everyone does them the courtesy of pretending not to notice). Steve throws his ham-hocked leg over his Harley, and the rest pile into Barton’s mini van (Natasha forgoes claiming her usual assumed position of shot gun to instead press her thighs against a self-satisfied Maria Hill in the backseat).
They make their way to Chuck E. Cheese for lunch because let’s be real, Monica calls the shots (and Sam honestly likes their pizza, he doesn’t care how the super soldier Brooklyn Boys give him shit for this “blasphemy”). Tony Stark, Pepper Potts and little Morgan Stark meet them there and Stark spontaneously decides to buy a birthday party package, even though it’s nowhere close to anyone’s birthday and the Chuck E. Cheese is technically already fully booked for the day. But he’s Tony Stark - like they’re really gonna say no. With a slice of pizza in one hand and a fountain coke in the other, Tony babbles on about how he could improve the animatronic technology to make it less creepy.
“I better not go into the garage later and see one of those things,” Pepper warns as she warily eyes the stuttering movements of robotic Chuck and gang as they sing an honestly not terrible cover of the Beatles “Eight Days a Week.”
Carol and Monica go on a rampage through all the games and absolutely clean out the place, earning enough tickets to win a huge Captain Marvel plushie that Carol cheekily gifts Maria (who rolls her eyes but secretly pulls out to cuddle against every time Carol’s called up to space for long periods of time) and Thor talks excitedly about the nine realms with a creature he swears he recognizes from space until Bruce has to gently point out that it’s just a human in a giant rat costume.
That night, Carol gets an AOL instant message from NicholasNotNickFury:
NicholasNotNickFury: thanks for inviting me to your little Saturday pick up games
CaptainHotStuff: but we didn’t invite you
NicholasNotNickFury: IT WAS SARCASM DANVERS
The end.