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Within a few weeks of living in Avengers Tower, James got used to the inhabitants that came with it. They all had strange habits and little quirks that James found odd, but rather endearing.
Natasha and Clint always trained together. Clint used the vents to get around, sometimes. Pietro and Sam regularly bought girl scout cookies -- specifically from two little girl scouts whom they overheard arguing about whether Falcon or Quicksilver was the coolest Avenger. Wanda, in the early mornings, used her powers to do simple physical acts, such as getting coffee or cereal. Thor, when he caught someone being sad or pensive, offered poptarts in hopes of making them feel better.
Tony rarely ever slept, but he ate and drank and took care of himself. Steve had a tendency to break the punching bags off of their hooks when he was mad. He also went on long, patriotic rants about the injustices of America. Like civil justices. Or animal cruelty. Or milk prices. There was a drinking game about it, at one time. One drink for every time he said the words “unfair”, “America”, and “back in the day.”
Clint was a zombie when he first woke up and remained so until Wanda forced some coffee down his throat. Bruce did yoga with Natasha in the mornings, and Steve joined them after his runs, sometimes. Pietro woke anyone still asleep at ten every morning, with the exception of Tony. Bruce and Wanda made homemade tea, with leaves and everything. James regularly drank them. They were pretty good.
One afternoon, while almost everyone was out and about shopping, training, buying cookies, whatever they all were prone to do on lazy Saturday afternoons, James started baking.
He wasn’t sure where or how he’d learned the recipe to an old fashioned, crispy crust apple pie, or the recipe to warm, moist chocolate chip cookies. They came to him in the middle of a sip of some tea that Bruce had given him; a homemade remedy for headaches and the shivers after a nightmare that didn’t want to go away.
His hands set to work of their own accord; working the dough, peeling and cutting the apples, scooping and mashing the batter into molds and pans and muffin tins to make little pies and mini-cookies.
The cookies came out almost perfect. He’d used too many chocolate chips, so they looked odd, but they smelled great and held up nice when you picked them up. The apple mini pies turned out to be wonderful; nice and crispy. The designs he’d put in them using some leftover dough turned out pretty. The first batch had flowers, the second had stars (though, with the circular shaped pies, they looked like pentagrams) and the third was a simple weave.
Clint had been the first to get a cookie and pie, since he came into the kitchen through the vents which, according to him, now smelled like Heaven. He took one bite of cookie and moaned gutturally, immediately going to the fridge for some milk to perfect the chocolate wonder. He took three more cookies and an apple pie, requested that James marry him, and took to the vents again.
Bruce and Wanda came next, drawn up by simple hunger. They ate four cookies and two pies between them, as well as a glass of milk each. They left behind a new canister of tea in the cabinet and several thank you’s. James wasn’t sure what they’d been chatting about, but it sounded an awful lot like knitting and crocheting, which confirmed James’s suspicion that the sweaters he’d seen Pietro and Thor wear were indeed handmade. He was tempted to ask them to make him one. They looked cozy.
Speaking of which; Thor and Pietro made their way to the kitchen next, claiming that they could smell the baked goods from miles away. Bucky got them their milk glasses, and they stayed in the kitchen with him while he made another two batches of everything. They chatted up a storm about Vision, and what he was doing with Steve while they were out. Supposedly, Steve was taking him to see his first ballgame. It was either that or they were eloping. James found both ideas amusing.
Natasha came by with Clint, who’d spread the word of goodies and come back for more. They were out of milk, but neither one seemed very deterred by this. They left with almost half of a batch of cookies with them, as well as a quarter batch of pies. He was running out of apples.
Luckily, FRIDAY sensed this problem, and sent Tony’s chauffeur, Happy, to get some more. Within minutes, the man was in the kitchen, plopping apples, milk, eggs, and a few other necessary ingredients down on the unused island table. James gave him two pies and four cookies in thanks, and managed a hesitant thank you to FRIDAY, as well. The AI took it cheerfully, assuring him that she’d be there to help him if he was in need at any moment.
Tony, Steve, and Sam came in last. Tony, who’d caught the elevator from his lab floor with Steve after hearing rumors of master baking in his kitchen, cried out in surprise and happiness at the first bite of warm, crispy pie. Sam nodded his approval at the baked goods, and ate a couple of pies, but refrained from eating the cookies because he preferred a more subtle sugar content in his sweets. Steve commented through a mouthful of cookie that James had gotten better at baking. The last time he’d eaten one of Bucky’s muffin tin pies was before the war.
James got flashes of warm smiles, gentle hands guiding his own with a whisk, a small boy and older woman smiling with chocolate-covered teeth.
James smiled brightly, swiping one of his own cookies from the pan. It was warm and moist and almost perfect, and he made a pleased noise in the back of his throat. “Pretty good.”
“Pretty good?!” Tony exclaimed incredulously, obviously offended, even though he hadn’t been the one to make them. “These are beautiful ! If these cookies were human, they’d be in my bed faster than you could say eat me.”
Steve gave Tony a scolding glare, but James was laughing, and it didn’t take but another moment for Sam to join in. Steve was already cracking, a smile twitching at his lips. Tony busied himself with another cookie, and James was glad that he was living in the Tower with all these people, as strange as they were.