Short: An Awkward Thanksgiving
Despite the obvious fact no one would have expected it, the Potts-Stark Thanksgiving Party was just as elaborate as it had been the past few years Steve had attended it. It was quieter than usual, with only the Avengers save Clint, Jane and Darcy, Phil, Betty, and the Four in attendance.
More people had probably been invited, they had been last year, but those invitations had obviously been politely declined. There was a weird sort of tension in the air, which Steve attributed to the ‘shake ups’ that had occurred throughout the year. More than anything, it seemed that nobody really wanted to be there. It was no surprise then, that once the Four had left (apparently the twins had been causing nightmares for Ben’s sister, Steve hadn’t even been aware Ben had a sister), the convivial atmosphere drifted further out of reach.
Jane had politely insisted to Darcy that it was time to leave around ten (apparently their hotel locked its doors around eleven PM, Steve still didn’t know enough about how hotels operated to dispute this), and Phil had agreed.
Sam had left not long after, citing his dog-sitter. Banner had been falling asleep since eight and eventually been taken to bed by Betty, who also decided to turn in, even before the Four had left. Nat had gone to the den, allegedly to ‘skype Clint and the kids’, and not returned. Vision had also similarly disappeared, without any excuse or explanation.
The lounge would have been deserted had it not been for Pepper, Rhodes, and Thor all asleep in the couch pit. Steve had assumed Tony had gone to bed, since he’d said ‘excuse me’ and gone in that direction half an hour ago, but that didn’t explain the movement on the deck or the typical cyan glow that came with Tony Stark in the dark either.
Thank god they liked to regularly check the sliding doors for creaks. Steve caught the scent of cigarette smoke immediately, but held his tongue. It wasn’t worth arguing about, Tony knew full well he shouldn’t and tried not to. The last eighteen months however had been difficult to ignore. Midnight in Manhattan wasn’t truly dark, but from the dim light inside to the dimmer light on the deck, it took Steve a moment to realise where Tony was.
He was sitting with his back against the planter at the far end of the deck. He had his hand lying beside him to his right, and he had taken his shoes off. Once Steve got a little closer, it was clear he was fiddling with a broken lighter.
“Hey Cap,” Tony stared listlessly at Steve’s knees. “I knew somebody’d come looking for me eventually... I was kinda expecting Rhodey.”
Steve crouched down. “Rhodes- ...Rhodey’s been asleep an hour.”
Tony still didn’t make eye contact. “Pepper then.”
“So has she.”
Tony grunted. He glanced upward from his knees, and lamely flicked the broken lighter up onto the side of the planter with a clatter. He hesitated as he reached for his hand, and never made the motion in full.
“Do you want me to get that?”
Tony glanced at the prosthesis, then back at Steve. “Nuh-uh,” he mumbled brokenly. “You gonna sit?”
Steve moved slowly as if he was approaching a frightened animal, and lowered himself down on Tony’s left. Tony grunted and repositioned himself reluctantly. Steve searched for something to say.
“...how do you think tonight went?”
Tony dangled his fingers over his knee, “it wasn’t a complete disaster.”
Steve nodded, “that’s one way of putting it.”
“Where do you reckon Vision went?”
The wording caught him off guard a little, as did the sudden change in subject. “I have no idea, maybe he went downstairs.”
“Eh, maybe.” Tony stared into the middle distance again.
He looked less like the cocky, wisecracking twenty-first century version of his father that Steve had met nearly four years ago, and more like the traumatised soldiers Sam worked with. Maybe because that was almost what he was. Steve searched for conversation again.
“Everything... good with Pepper and you? I’ve not really seen you together for a couple of weeks.”
Tony hummed and the life seemed to come back into him again. “We’re good, really good. Great even.”
Steve scanned the response for sarcasm. None obvious, but he wanted to be sure. “Why great?” he asked lightly.
“Oh, you know certain things... uh... we went to the old place again, that was less... traumatic... than last time...”
“You mean the big house?”
Tony nodded, “yeah. We were thinking of doing it up a little. Might be nice to have a place with some kind of yard considering...”
That tripped something in Steve’s head. He narrowed his eyes and looked at Tony side on. “Considering what?”
Tony’s demeanour changed. “Well, you know what, I don’t think I’m gonna tell you.”
Ah, quick as that, back to normal.
“Fine,” Steve moved as if he was going to get up, “I’ll leave you out here then.”
Tony made a gesture that would have looked like raising his hand in mock surrender - had it not been done with his left arm. “Okay! Okay, I’ll spill!” Tony glanced at his arm and put it back down.
Steve went back to where he was, turning towards him a little. If Tony was willing to be a little more normal, Steve was too. “What do you have to ‘spill’, Stark?” he asked, adding a false tone of accusing.
“Well, you know what? I’m gonna tell you, Rogers.” Tony’s eyebrows shot upwards with teasing, and his eyes briefly looked brown in the light polluted night.
They looked at each other a moment, then laughed.
“No really,” Tony wiped his eye, “this is big, and you’ve gotta keep it to your chest.”
Steve had a feeling he’d heard that phrase from a Stark before. He wasn’t sure it was Tony. “Okay, deal the cards and I’ll keep em close.”
He had a feeling that response wasn’t entirely his own either.
Tony took a breath, then bit his lip and took another one. “I really shouldn’t be telling you this. Not even Rhodey knows yet.”
“If you’re going to tease, I’m going to go back inside.”
“I’m not it’s just,” Tony bounced a little and his foot started tapping. “Argh, okay! Okay.”
“Do you want to breathe?”
“No, no, I’m good.” Tony held himself still, and took another breath, “Pepper’s pregnant.”
Any coherent thoughts Steve could have formed in response deserted him. “Wait, what?”
Tony started bouncing again, “I know, I know! I know. We’re due in July.”
Steve’s face practically split in two, “congratulations!”
“Ah, no, she’s doing all the heavy lifting on this one, I only read her the instructions.”
Steve rolled his eyes, “No, Tony, you deserve this. There’s no one who deserves a family more.”
Tony fidgeted, “what’re you talking about, I already have a family... I’ve got Pepper, I’ve got Rhodey, Aunt Peggy, an entire boatload of cousins... you guys...”
Steve frowned, then cracked into a smile that made his face hurt.
“What?”
Steve laughed, “I can’t believe Tony Stark can’t take praise when it comes to him!”
“Hey! That’s not-! That’s not true, is it?”
Steve couldn’t answer. He was too busy laughing. Tony shrugged and leaned his shoulder into Steve’s.
“Happy Thanksgiving Cap…”
Maybe this year hadn't been so awkward after all...
More people had probably been invited, they had been last year, but those invitations had obviously been politely declined. There was a weird sort of tension in the air, which Steve attributed to the ‘shake ups’ that had occurred throughout the year. More than anything, it seemed that nobody really wanted to be there. It was no surprise then, that once the Four had left (apparently the twins had been causing nightmares for Ben’s sister, Steve hadn’t even been aware Ben had a sister), the convivial atmosphere drifted further out of reach.
Jane had politely insisted to Darcy that it was time to leave around ten (apparently their hotel locked its doors around eleven PM, Steve still didn’t know enough about how hotels operated to dispute this), and Phil had agreed.
Sam had left not long after, citing his dog-sitter. Banner had been falling asleep since eight and eventually been taken to bed by Betty, who also decided to turn in, even before the Four had left. Nat had gone to the den, allegedly to ‘skype Clint and the kids’, and not returned. Vision had also similarly disappeared, without any excuse or explanation.
The lounge would have been deserted had it not been for Pepper, Rhodes, and Thor all asleep in the couch pit. Steve had assumed Tony had gone to bed, since he’d said ‘excuse me’ and gone in that direction half an hour ago, but that didn’t explain the movement on the deck or the typical cyan glow that came with Tony Stark in the dark either.
Thank god they liked to regularly check the sliding doors for creaks. Steve caught the scent of cigarette smoke immediately, but held his tongue. It wasn’t worth arguing about, Tony knew full well he shouldn’t and tried not to. The last eighteen months however had been difficult to ignore. Midnight in Manhattan wasn’t truly dark, but from the dim light inside to the dimmer light on the deck, it took Steve a moment to realise where Tony was.
He was sitting with his back against the planter at the far end of the deck. He had his hand lying beside him to his right, and he had taken his shoes off. Once Steve got a little closer, it was clear he was fiddling with a broken lighter.
“Hey Cap,” Tony stared listlessly at Steve’s knees. “I knew somebody’d come looking for me eventually... I was kinda expecting Rhodey.”
Steve crouched down. “Rhodes- ...Rhodey’s been asleep an hour.”
Tony still didn’t make eye contact. “Pepper then.”
“So has she.”
Tony grunted. He glanced upward from his knees, and lamely flicked the broken lighter up onto the side of the planter with a clatter. He hesitated as he reached for his hand, and never made the motion in full.
“Do you want me to get that?”
Tony glanced at the prosthesis, then back at Steve. “Nuh-uh,” he mumbled brokenly. “You gonna sit?”
Steve moved slowly as if he was approaching a frightened animal, and lowered himself down on Tony’s left. Tony grunted and repositioned himself reluctantly. Steve searched for something to say.
“...how do you think tonight went?”
Tony dangled his fingers over his knee, “it wasn’t a complete disaster.”
Steve nodded, “that’s one way of putting it.”
“Where do you reckon Vision went?”
The wording caught him off guard a little, as did the sudden change in subject. “I have no idea, maybe he went downstairs.”
“Eh, maybe.” Tony stared into the middle distance again.
He looked less like the cocky, wisecracking twenty-first century version of his father that Steve had met nearly four years ago, and more like the traumatised soldiers Sam worked with. Maybe because that was almost what he was. Steve searched for conversation again.
“Everything... good with Pepper and you? I’ve not really seen you together for a couple of weeks.”
Tony hummed and the life seemed to come back into him again. “We’re good, really good. Great even.”
Steve scanned the response for sarcasm. None obvious, but he wanted to be sure. “Why great?” he asked lightly.
“Oh, you know certain things... uh... we went to the old place again, that was less... traumatic... than last time...”
“You mean the big house?”
Tony nodded, “yeah. We were thinking of doing it up a little. Might be nice to have a place with some kind of yard considering...”
That tripped something in Steve’s head. He narrowed his eyes and looked at Tony side on. “Considering what?”
Tony’s demeanour changed. “Well, you know what, I don’t think I’m gonna tell you.”
Ah, quick as that, back to normal.
“Fine,” Steve moved as if he was going to get up, “I’ll leave you out here then.”
Tony made a gesture that would have looked like raising his hand in mock surrender - had it not been done with his left arm. “Okay! Okay, I’ll spill!” Tony glanced at his arm and put it back down.
Steve went back to where he was, turning towards him a little. If Tony was willing to be a little more normal, Steve was too. “What do you have to ‘spill’, Stark?” he asked, adding a false tone of accusing.
“Well, you know what? I’m gonna tell you, Rogers.” Tony’s eyebrows shot upwards with teasing, and his eyes briefly looked brown in the light polluted night.
They looked at each other a moment, then laughed.
“No really,” Tony wiped his eye, “this is big, and you’ve gotta keep it to your chest.”
Steve had a feeling he’d heard that phrase from a Stark before. He wasn’t sure it was Tony. “Okay, deal the cards and I’ll keep em close.”
He had a feeling that response wasn’t entirely his own either.
Tony took a breath, then bit his lip and took another one. “I really shouldn’t be telling you this. Not even Rhodey knows yet.”
“If you’re going to tease, I’m going to go back inside.”
“I’m not it’s just,” Tony bounced a little and his foot started tapping. “Argh, okay! Okay.”
“Do you want to breathe?”
“No, no, I’m good.” Tony held himself still, and took another breath, “Pepper’s pregnant.”
Any coherent thoughts Steve could have formed in response deserted him. “Wait, what?”
Tony started bouncing again, “I know, I know! I know. We’re due in July.”
Steve’s face practically split in two, “congratulations!”
“Ah, no, she’s doing all the heavy lifting on this one, I only read her the instructions.”
Steve rolled his eyes, “No, Tony, you deserve this. There’s no one who deserves a family more.”
Tony fidgeted, “what’re you talking about, I already have a family... I’ve got Pepper, I’ve got Rhodey, Aunt Peggy, an entire boatload of cousins... you guys...”
Steve frowned, then cracked into a smile that made his face hurt.
“What?”
Steve laughed, “I can’t believe Tony Stark can’t take praise when it comes to him!”
“Hey! That’s not-! That’s not true, is it?”
Steve couldn’t answer. He was too busy laughing. Tony shrugged and leaned his shoulder into Steve’s.
“Happy Thanksgiving Cap…”
Maybe this year hadn't been so awkward after all...
Timeframe & Context: Thanksgiving, 2015; off the back of The First Ultron Incident. Tony is still adapting to his prosthesis, which he begins using in September 2015. Steve still doesn't really know Rhodey all that well.
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