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Tony strode into the conference room. Sam had been vague about what had happened on the mission, which was never a good thing.
Clint's chest heaved in a full body gag. “Blargh.” A frog the size of a softball somehow forced its way through his lips, landing wet and confused on the table.
*Ribbit*
Tony watched the frog hop away across the table.
He turned to Natasha, who was watching Clint from across the room. “Why isn't he in med-bay?”
“The doctors said it wasn't a medical issue, and that it's unsanitary to have live amphibians there.”
Clint heaved again. “Blargh.”
*Croak* The brown toad hopped to join a group that collected by the water pitcher in the middle of the table.
“How long has he been doing this?”
“Since we left the cottage. About an hour now.”
“Maybe it will wear off.” Tony looked at Natasha. “That’s a thing right, magic wearing off?”
“No. Usually you just have to kill the person who cast the spell. And we did that.”
Tony squinted at her. That sounded like someone who had experience with magic or witches before.
“Hollacck.”
*Ribbit* *ribbit* *ribbit* A trio of tiny frogs chipped.
In one motion Tony dropped into a chair and kicked his legs out so that he could stare at the ceiling. “FRIDAY, am I going to have to call my ex?”
“Which one sir?”
“You know which one.”
“He is uniquely qualified to deal with this situation.”
Natasha perked up. “You know someone who can help Clint?” She blinked. “Someone you've slept with?”
“Harsh.”
Clint clawed his finger next to his nose then brought it down sharply.
Natasha nodded. “The witch wasn’t your usual type.”
Tony opened his mouth to object but thought better of it. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Your ex?”
“Stephen is magnificent. A bastard but magnificent.”
Natasha did her meaningful eye contact thing. “Will he help if you ask him to?”
Tony sighed. “He will be delighted to help. Viciously delighted.”
Natasha didn't look sympathetic.
Tony stared at the ceiling for a minute gathering his resolve.
“Friday, call Stephen.”
The default Stark phone ringtone echoed through the room then cut off mid ring.
“He hung up, sir.”
“Call him again.”
The ringtone came again. “Since you called twice I assume it was on purpose. What do you want?”
“Hey, smart ass.” Tony turned toward the window away from all the judging looks. “Yeah, I … I need your help with something.”
“Was that hard to say?”
“Excruciating.”
“Because you have to deal with magic?”
“Because Hawkeye is a one man plague of frogs.”
Stephen snorted.
“Is that something that you can fix?”
“Yes, it's likely a lesser curse.”
“Will you help?”
“Certainly. I'd be happy to help your teammate.” Stephen said and Tony could imagine the bitter smile on his face from his tone.
The room was silent for a moment except for the ribbiting of dozens of confused frogs.
“When can you get here?”
“I’m free now. If Friday can send me a picture of the room.”
“Right. Friday, do the thing.”
Tony had time to meet Natasha’s critical eye before a ring of orange sparks expanded into a portal with a non descript alley on the other side.
“You look good.” Tony said because he couldn’t help himself. Stephen looked like he was growing into himself. And because Tony really couldn't help himself. “Cosplay wizard chic is a good look on you.”
The red cape Stephen insisted on calling the Cloak of Levitation twisted a hem into a rude gesture. Fair.
Stephen rolled his eyes and went to where Clint had just coughed up a cane toad the size of a teapot.
*crrooak*
Stephen grabbed Clint's jaw turning his head side to side then straight. “Say 'ah’.''
“Aahh” *ribbit*
Clint gagged on the frog but Stephen kept his jaw steady. He twirled his fingers to create a fist sized mandala of glowing light that hovered across Clint's lips, then pushed his pointer and index finger through the mandala stretching the orange light like Dental Dam and pushing his fingers down Clint's throat. There was a moment of stillness then Stephen drew his fingers crooked out. Tony really shouldn't be thinking of those times he had had those fingers on him, in him. He really really shouldn’t because Stephen was pulling out a noxious wet weedy mass out of Clint's mouth while the man choked bug eyed.
Stephen carefully pulled the two feet of black plant matter out until it swung free and dripped black drops onto the conference room floor. Clint lurch back then forward, dry heaving. Natasha crouched next to him whispering to him.
After a minute of heavy breathing and ribbits from around the room, Clint rasped out “Thanks.”
“Drink some water. Ibuprofen if there’s pain. And try not to vomit. It won’t help.” Stephen said.
Clint gave a shaky thumbs up.
Stephen turned, arching an eyebrow at Tony, the mass trailing from one hand.
“I feel like now is a good time to say ‘I'm sorry.'”
Stephen let more of the slime from the mass drip on the carpet.
Tony tried meaningful eye contact of his own. “I’m sorry I broke up with you because of magic.”
Natasha's eyes narrowed. “What did he do?”
“Magic.” Stephen said.
“I’m sorry that I ran for the hills, ran from you, when magic made me question reality. I was going through a lot.”
Stephen sighed and banished the sludgy mass somewhere. “Yes, you were.”
“I’ve been through a lot since then too.”
“Oh.” And there was the crease between Stephen’s eyebrow that meant he didn’t understand and would get defensive quick.
“Yep. Like last week when a talking raccoon and a sentient tree tried to steal the legs I made for my spider-child.”
“Right.”
“I could tell you about it. Over lunch?” Tony raised a hopeful eyebrow.
“Tony…” Stephen sighed.
“My life has had a lot of strange in it lately. Just not all the Strange I want.” Tony tried to convey how much he had missed Stephen.
“Damnit. Alright. Yes. Lunch.”