Chapter Text
No one was sure whose idea it had been to put the Avengers into group counseling. It wasn't like the team members felt they needed it. Phil Coulson might have suggested it as a joke, but as he was still in a coma four months after Loki punctured his lung and left him for dead, his input was not likely involved.
Tony Stark and Steve Rogers suspected Maria Hill, Director Fury's top deputy. Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov were blaming Agent Sitwell, who was Coulson's temporary replacement. Bruce Banner didn't know enough about the people at SHIELD to have a solid opinion as to the culprit but was generally suspicious of Director Fury just on principle. Thor was still in Asgard and was exempt from the sessions, for the time being at least.
Marissa Lowie was recognized by her peers as a brilliant therapist. She had all the right credentials, all the right security clearances, and all the right buzzwords. She even, thanks to an extensive briefing with Fury, Hill, Sitwell, and about a dozen other SHIELD personnel, had a pretty good idea what she was up against when she sat down in a SHIELD conference room with five of the six members of the team.
"Look, I'm a busy man so can we just stipulate that I have daddy issues and I'm an alcoholic?" Tony said with an air of deliberate distraction.
She nodded. "I don't plan to waste too much of your time, Mr. Stark. But we are going to finish this session before I rubber-stamp your self-diagnosis."
Bruce broke in, waving his hand. "Hi, um, rage issues, not controllable, and probably daddy issues but we're not going there because the results are invariably bad."
Marissa scribbled some notes and said, almost absent-mindedly, "Thank you, Dr. Banner. Anyone else care to do my job for me?"
Natasha shrugged and suggested, "Paranoia based on stressful upbringing and some hellacious trust issues, stemming no doubt from said upbringing and my workplace situation."
Following Natasha's lead, Clint put in, "Abandonment issues, unresolved childhood abuse, trust issues, part of the job, of course, and some residual guilt over being possessed by Loki and thinking I helped the bastard nearly kill my handler."
Marissa made non-committal sounds, then turned to Steve. "Care to guess what your problems are, Captain?"
He stammered a few false starts, then said, "I don't know the fancy words but I'm seventy years out of time, I have no idea what's going on around me most of the time, and right now my best friends are all loony. Or at least that's what they seem to be telling me. Oh, and one of them is a genuine god and he may or may not be nuts where he comes from but here he's pretty, uh, excessive."
There was a soft knock on the door. Bruce, the closest, pulled it open to reveal Agent Sitwell. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've received word that Thor is returning tomorrow and wondered if you wanted to delay this session until then so as to include him in this."
Marissa started to reply but Sitwell's cell phone rang. He spoke into it softly for a few moments, then clicked the speaker on and placed it on the conference table.
"Ho, my friends, I understand you are sharing tales around the table!" Thor's voice boomed through the room. "I fear I shall not be able to join you until tomorrow. My beloved Lady Jane, is detaining me with some riveting tales of her work, some excellent beverages involving something called cranberry juice, and the promise of another glorious night in each others' arms."
Steve pointed to the phone, and was about to say something. Marissa spoke first. "It's fine, Thor, we won't be meeting again for another two weeks. But I have some homework for you all, and I'd like to tell all of you about it at once, so if there are any questions, we can get them all answered now. "
The team members present exchanged confused and concerned looks. Tony mouthed "HOMEWORK?" to Bruce, who couldn't stop giggling. Steve and Clint both looked mildly panicked and Natasha examined her fingernails in a failed effort to look unconcerned.
"I am yours to command, Lady," Thor said.
Tony rolled his eyes. Steve, seeing it, started to laugh. Bruce was still giggling at Tony's faces. Clint joined in and finally even Natasha was laughing. Marissa hurried to explain to Thor that no one was laughing at him but he interrupted her.
"They often find humor in my words. I have learned to accept and even enjoy it. We are not of the same world, my friends and I, but we understand and enjoy one another."
"Strange but true," Tony observed. "The dude understands Jane Foster's work and still talks like Eric the Red about to kill Mercutio."
"I hope that was a mixed metaphor," Natasha said.
Marissa broke into the conversation. "Here is what I want you all to work on before our next meeting. I want each of you to remember some food from your childhood, something that has meaning for you. I don't care what that meaning is. But in two weeks, we're having a potluck. Make or buy or somehow procure and bring this dish with you. And be prepared to tell the story of why this particular food is related to a particular memory. It doesn't have to be a traumatic memory. It can be silly, or boring, or relate to a Saturday morning cartoon. I just want it to have some kind of meaning and for you to tell us about it."
With that she closed her notebook. "It's been a pleasure meeting you all and I'm looking forward to our next meeting." She strode from the room.
Thor could already be heard talking to someone else (probably Jane) about this peculiar assignment, so Sitwell gathered up his phone and turned it off. The rest of the Avengers filed out of the conference room, looking puzzled and thoughtful.
"Oh, fuck, now I'm hungry!" Tony whined.
"Yeah, well no shawarma," Steve muttered. "I've had enough of it for a lifetime."
********************************************************************************************************
The following ten days found the Avengers making a tremendous effort to pretend Lowie had not given them this strange assignment. A small mass of sea monsters climbing onto the Staten Island Ferry provided a good excuse for this, at least for a few days.
Four days before the potluck, Steve started looking through used book stores for cookbooks that might have the recipe he needed. Three days before the potluck, Bruce could be heard on the telephone speaking in hushed tones and taking notes that looked like a chemical formula except for the words "baking powder" and "butter."
Two days before the potluck, Clint and Natasha disappeared from Stark Tower for several hours, and returned laden with grocery bags. They successfully locked everyone else out of what was otherwise an open-plan kitchen. The smells that emerged might have been intriguing were it not for the constant buzzing of the fire alarm, followed by one or the other of them on the intercom shouting, "It's okay. We got it under control."
The day before the potluck, Thor left New York entirely, explaining that while what he wanted was available in the city, there were better places to get it. Tony muttered something about lutefisk, but Thor smiled and shook his head. "Delicious though it may be, it is hardly feast fare."
The other Avengers nodded, most of them having determined dodging the lutefisk bullet was more important than finding out what the alternative was to be.
Two and a half hours before the potluck, Tony was called to the delivery ramp to sign for a personal shipment.
The six Avengers arrived at Shield headquarters, each carrying a bag or a box. They entered the conference room, placed their items down, and dropped into chairs.
"From what platters shall we eat and from what vessels shall we drink?" Thor asked in a concerned voice.
Dr. Lowie entered, followed by an embarrassed-looking Shield agent pushing a cart. It was full of plates, cutlery, napkins, and servingware. Behind that agent came another, pushing a beverage service that, but for the lack of alcohol, would have made Tony proud.
When the agents left, Dr. Lowie looked at the various containers and without preamble said, "So who wants to go first?"
There was a short silence as the Avengers exchanged looks. With a sigh, Bruce started to stand up but to everyone's surprise, Natasha held up her hand. "I'll go first," she said.