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It started with Rhodey and Sam agreeing to meet up after training to discuss where their friendship was at. After the whole debacle that nearly caused the implosion of the Avengers, it was only right.
They were sitting in some bar that neither cared to remember the name of before entering. As long as it had booze, they were fine. They sat across from each other in a booth that allowed them to see the front and back exits respectively. Every person that came in after them was analyzed with a wary suspicion.
It was hard not to be on guard these days. Villains were popping up left and right, trying to tear down all they built up.
"Thanks for trying to catch me."
Sam hadn't expected those words to come out of Rhodey's mouth. After what went down, he expected for the older man to tell him how pissed he was that the injuries he got from his fall caused him to be out of commission for so long. Not this.
"I-I am so s - "
Rhodey held up a hand. "Everyone is. We all made mistakes, didn't we? Not just one side can take the blame for what happened. I get it. I forgive you, just as long as you forgive me."
That was the moment were Sam Wilson knew that Colonel James Rhodes was the best goddamned Avenger on the team. The next three rounds of shots were on him. Rhodey, showing once again his superior capacity for kindness, ordered the next two.
Once they were good and drunk, the pair found themselves talking shit like only two black men could, with a healthy round of, "Tell me why..."
"S-So, I tell him to turn the damn A/C off, 'cause it's cold as shit in our dorm, and then I leave - " Rhodey paused to belch. "I come back ten minutes later, and tell me why this white boy built a robot out of it!" Rhodey and Sam both threw their heads back and laughed, wiping tears from their eyes before settling down.
Sam took a sip of the Samuel Adams he was nursing before starting on his story. "I was just minding my business, lifting some weights - typical day, ya know? Tell me why Steve comes over and starts adding weights on! I nearly died Rhodey!"
"Tell me why Tony thought it was okay to override War Machine when I was in the middle of a speech with the prince of Dubai?"
"Tell me why Steve blasts dubstep music during his workout."
"Tell me why Tony went on a drunken bender for three days, took the Iron Man suit up to the top of the Empire State and pretended to be King Kong?"
"Tell me why - "
"Tell me why Sargent Barnes refuses to leave my home even though he's been out of cryo for two full months."
Both James and Sam jumped when T'Challa slid into the booth beside Sam. Apparently, they got too engrossed in their stories about their best friends to notice when the King of Wakanda entered the bar. Either that or T'Challa, as usual, had far too much stealth for one human man.
Sam was the first to recover. "Really? What's he been doin'? Steve hasn't mentioned anything..."
"He just sits and stares out the window... Or he'll flirt with my Dora Milaje. I think that one of these days, Okoye will rip his remaining arm off. I won't even have to chance to finish the last touches on his bionic arm before she gets her hands on him." T'Challa shook his head as if that was the greatest shame of all.
Rhodey raised his glass in solidarity. "To Okoye's badass. May Bucky learn to keep his soon to expire hand to himself."
"To Okoye!" the other two toasted.
"Any other stories you've got about Barnes, or is that it?" Sam asked, his tone edging towards playful. "'Cause if that's it, you can't join our super secret Black Avengers Support Group?"
Rhodey quickly corrected Sam, "Black Avengers Support System."
T'Challa's eyebrows slowly ascended, an even slower grin coming onto his face. Neither of the other two at the table had ever seen the King look so mischievous before. "Yes. Tell me why he sings loud, American songs from the 1930s and 40s."
They all had to throw their heads back and laugh at that one. The image of Sargent James "Bucky" Barnes, The Winter Soldier, the former Fist of Hydra, singing what had to be mostly show tunes and swing music, was hilarious. They'd never get that one out of their heads.
That was the beginning of the Black Avengers Support System, or, as Rhodey told them, "Black ASS."
T'Challa and Sam gave him looks of equal grudging respect and long suffering. Who knew Tony Stark's best friend was a Colonel by day, an Avenger by always, and a dork by night?
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Where is T'Challa?"
Shuri gave Bucky a smug look, tilting her head to the side. "Out."
Bucky glared at Shuri. The woman seemed to hate him, and that was reasonable considering all the trouble her older brother went through having to do with him - and the trouble he still went through trying to keep Bucky's whereabouts a secret. But, still.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Where's Sam?" Steve asked Clint, knowing that Hawkeye had formed a strange bond with the Falcon over their bird-themed aliases.
Clint swallowed a mouthful of Foot Loops. "I dunno," he answered, shrugging his shoulders once. His attention was once again placed on a rerun of Supernanny. Coulson loved this show, and Clint figured he would give it a try. It would be something they could talk about when they had downtime on missions.
Steve exited the common room of the new Avengers Mansion Tony built for them. It wasn't too far from the Avengers HQ, but far enough away to give everyone living there the illusion that they were getting away from it all when the day was over with.
Where the hell is Sam? He was supposed to meet me for movie night hour ago... Who is going to teach me what the first rule of Fight Club now?
The flash of short, curly red hair from the corner of Steve's eye gave him his answer.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Where is Rhodey?" Tony shouted, looking between Bruce and the ceiling. Rhodey promised him that he would come by for a visit - and that was last week, mind you. Tony had forgotten about the promise until Bruce started to get snarky about the new configurations made to the Hulk Buster ("It took you forever to knock me out in Africa, you know." "Shut up.") and Tony needed someone to back him up.
Rhodey should have been here today, at least. If he missed one week, he made sure not to miss another. That was how Rhodey usually rolled. He was apologetic and thoughtful like that.
"Get me my Rhodey, Big Guy!"
Bruce carefully dropped his glasses onto a nearby table, giving Tony a half-smile. If Tony really needed Rhodey, he would have consulted Jarvis - err, Friday. "You sound like a clingy child right now."
See, this was why Tony needed Rhodey. "Do not!"
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Where the hell is Storm?"
Bobby looked up from his bowl of ice cream. It was late, about 11:30 at night. What did Professor Logan need with Professor Monroe? "She said she was going out. She didn't say where."
From his left, Rogue nodded. "Ah think she's gonna go to a bar. She was mutterin' 'bout bein' tired of a bunch-a raids happening outta nowhere."
Logan looked to Kitty, Jubilee and Piotr. They also confirmed that's where they thought she went.
Since when the hell does she go drinkin' without me? Logan huffed, baring his teeth. Better not be sneakin' off to see some man or nothin'.
"On the contrary, Logan," Professor Xavier's even tone chimed, interrupting what was supposed to be Logan's private thoughts. The physically older man gave Logan the most polite smile he could as he finished with, "She is with multiple."
Though the words confused the kids in the room, Logan instantly grew livid. He roared in outrage and stomped out of the mansion, trying to scent Scott. He needed somebody to get violent with. Pretty Boy could handle it.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Ooh, she's fine!" Sam said under his breath, trying his best not to stare at the gorgeous woman who just walked into the bar. She wasn't Black Widow, but she was a black beauty of her own kind. "Lord, have mercy on me. I am just a humble man..."
Rhodey craned his head to look over T'Challa. "Yeah, she's a pretty, pretty lady." All the pick-up lines Rhodey ever heard Tony say came to mind. He needed to be prepared if he wanted to approach the woman in six-inch heels who walked in the room like nobody's business.
T'Challa also turned to see what the big deal was, wondering why his story about Bucky being beaten black and blue by Shuri was interrupted. When he saw the woman in question, T'Challa's hand clenched around his glass of whiskey.
Unaware of T'Challa's reaction, James and Sam continued to make remarks about the black woman who glided toward the bar, ordered a glass of whiskey - "neat," she emphasized as if anything other than that was a crime - and made her way over to them.
Sam was going to pass out. Rhodey didn't remember what English was. T'Challa did his best to remain casual around his ex-wife.
"Hello, boys," Ororo greeted the table, a friendly smile creeping onto her face. She noted the distressed looks, but figured if she was polite enough, they would ease up. She tended to have a silencing affect on many people. Just the sight of her white hair was enough to make people stop and stare. "Do you have room for one more?"
"Y-Yes!" Sam exclaimed at the same time T'Challa answered with a cold, "No."
"Aw, why not?" She wouldn't by swayed by his hardened demeanor. Nothing he said could break her more than the sudden annulment of their marriage did. Besides, she found a man who was willing to give her everything he had - mind, body, spirit and effort. That was more than T'Challa had managed, and just what she needed. "My hero name is Storm, by the way," she directed at Sam and Rhodey, "And I'm just here to join your little black hero support group. It looks lovely."
"You're lovely," Rhodey blurted, a nervous laugh following. He took a sip of his beer. Talking to women was Stark's thing, clearly.
Ororo smiled wider. "Thank you, Colonel. Now, how do I get initiated in?"
Sam looked at T'Challa and noted the way the other man seemed to have closed off. A quick glance at Rhodey, and Sam knew he was going to have to be the one to explain things. Whoever this Storm lady was, apparently, she was a black hero in need of support. Who was he to turn her down? "Well, you've got your drink, so, check. Next, you've gotta be black - check. Lastly, you've gotta have a problematic white best friend."
For a moment, Ororo didn't know what to say. Should she start with harping on Logan or Jean? Perhaps Scott? Professor X was likely to dig through her mind later to find out where she'd been, so talking trash about him was a no-no. "I've got a couple problematic white friends."
"Then you are our president," T'Challa joked, taking a casual sip of his whiskey. He was glad Ororo wasn't here to cuss him out and, perhaps, throw her drink in his face. He'd seen enough American reality shows to know that many of this country's woman did that when angry. At least, the paid actresses did. "Our new name is the Black Superhero Support Group. BSSG."
Ororo was a bit surprised he spoke to her, but shook it off. She was here to unwind. The school had been raided by the government one too many times this month for her comfort, and a nice drink with some chatter mixed in sounded delightful. "So, tell me why my friend, Jean, had the nerve to throw a car in my direction when my lightning almost hit her in the middle of a battle."
Sam choked on his drink. Now he recognized her! It was that Storm!
~*~*~*~*~*~
Heimdall laughed as he viewed the dark-skinned heroes of Midguard from his usual perch. The stories they told one another piqued his interest as soon as the group first formed. Each week, he turned his omniscient eyes to the group, paying extra attention there. If he had the chance, Heimdall would have wanted to go down there and tell of his stories involving Odin. But, that was not a luxury he was granted.
How he wished to tell the four conversing heroes of his woes when Odin had the gall to first tell Loki and Thor of the stories about the Jotun. To think the battle of New York could have been prevented, along with the discrepancies before it, if Odin just told the truth!
Tell me why... Heimdall thought to himself, a smirk dancing on his lips.