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“Hey, roses. Looks like someone’s got an admirer….”
“Whose table is it at? Fury’s? Coulson’s?”
“No, I think that’s… shit, that’s our table.”
“Seriously? The Avenger table? Who’s it for?”
“I dunno, I can’t see—”
“Is it for Natasha? They’re always for—”
“I told you, Tony, I can’t see.”
“Your name is Hawkeye. How can you ‘not see—’”
“They’re for Steve.”
“What?” Clint and Tony said, turning to Natasha with equally astounded faces. There was a whole banquet hall of guests and wait staff in between them and their assigned table. Clint’s eyes were sharp, but not that sharp, and even though Natasha had good eyesight, she had nothing on Clint.
“How can you read the name card? I can’t even see a name card.” Tony said in disbelief.
“I can’t either,” Natasha replied, “but I can see the stupid look on Steve’s face.”
All five of them—Clint, Tony, Natasha, Bruce, even Thor—stared at Steve, who suddenly looked away from the Avenger’s table and only slightly managed to dim his bashful grin.
“You know who it’s from,” Tony accused.
Steve was shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck.
“He totally does,” agreed Clint.
“I…” Steve started, “I don’t know why…. It was way too dangerous to do that. He shouldn’t have—”
“He?” Tony blurted.
“Oh,” said Natasha, “Barnes.”
Steve’s grin dropped and his tone gained an edge of panic. “He’s still recovering. SHIELD doesn’t know he’s staying with me. He’s on their kill list—”
“God, you think I’m going to rat you out? I’ve got better things to report to Fury than your little trysts.”
Immediately, Steve relaxed, the previous tension leaving his shoulders and his face. “God. Okay. Thanks, Nat. Really.”
Tony put out a hand to stop them and looked back and forth between Steve and Natasha, pointing a finger. “I’m missing something. Clint, we’re missing something.”
Clint opened his mouth to comment, but a raised eyebrow from Natasha effectively shut him up. He turned to Tony instead. “Yeah, we better drop it. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m sure we’ll know soon enough.
Tony was about to argue, but then the Champagne arrived. Steve’s romantic escapades—whatever they were—would have to wait.