01 x breakfast conversing
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"You know, this spider-guy is all over the news," Steve was pointing out as I was having a serious issue getting my pancake to flip properly.
Being with the Avengers for almost three months now, I had figured I may as well broaden some horizons. Don't ask me why I chose pancakes, because even I am not sure, but hey, apparently it's harder than it looks. And Pietro's frequent (yet muffled) snickering was not at all helpful to my cause.
He may have found the process humorous, but he certainly didn't mind the outcome. He ate more than half the pancakes I made out of every batch. I'd once made the mistake of asking him where he put it all, which launched Vision into a rant about how Pietro had fast metabolism and needed to eat a lot. I'm not kidding when I say rant. I don't understand half of what Vision said, but it lasted at least half an hour.
"You mean Spider-Man?" Clint asked from his position on the counter. He'd been spending less time at the Tower lately, but there had been an incident last night involving some Chitauri tech and Wall Street, so he'd slept over. "Kid looks pretty impressive," the archer shrugged before shoveling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
"I like his friend," I said (more to myself than anything) right as Steve asked, "What makes you think he's a kid?"
Clint and I both gave the captain a pointed look, but I let Clint answer. "He makes snarky comments when he fights. Heard a few of 'em on the news stations," Clint shrugged. "Don't think anyone else has the energy to do that except kids."
"From his size I'd guess he's younger than me," was the answer I volunteered, before successfully flipping one pancake. Pietro mock-applauded across from me, a jovial look on his face.
Steve hummed, seeming to accept both Clint and I's assessments as legitimate, before actually turning away from the television and looking to me. "Did you mean the girl?" he asked, referring to my earlier comment. "She wears green and black spandex, right?"
I nodded, biting my lip as I tried to maneuver the spatula under the next pancake. "Terra," I informed him. "She's not on the news as often, but she's definitely there. They make a pretty wicked team. She does stuff with plants . . . and things . . ."
Pietro looked to Steve then, "They both seem highly impressive. Do you think they are enhanced?"
Steve shrugged. "I don't know what they are. But you're right - they're very impressive." He turned his attention back to the flatscreen then, right as Terra rocked some poor thief's world, twisting a giant vine around him, before Spider-Man swung in and webbed the guy's mouth shut. I watched for a split second, half-smiling when I saw the duo high-five, before I returned my attention to the pancakes.
"They handle small-time criminals," Clint added then.
I was plating a few of my pancakes (I had to smack Pietro's hand away twice) as I nodded. "Though there is that one guy that hates Spider-Man. What's his face?"
"You mean Rhino?" Clint asked, arching a brow.
"Yeah, Rhino," I agreed with a chuckle. "Seems like a big idiot with a powerhouse suit."
"I think you just described ninety-percent of the villains we deal with," Pietro mused.
"They sure get a lot of coverage for the level of crime fighting they do," Steve noted.
I smiled, shaking my head and finishing off the few pancakes I had left, plating them before turning the stove off and turning my full attention to the captain. "Terra and Spider-Man are super heroes, Cap. It doesn't really matter what 'level' crime they fight - the public loves a good hero. And you can't really deny, those two are great heroes."
Steve was quiet after that, poking at the remnants of his eggs absently. He'd sort of zoned out on the television, but after a moment, he stood, cleared his plate, and slid it into the sink. "You're right there, Meg," he informed me, but that was all he said before he left the room.
The three of us watched as he left, and I glanced between Clint and Pietro before sighing quietly and looking down at my pancakes. "Goodness knows what that man is thinking now."
"I have a guess," Clint said. "But I don't want to assume." He turned to me then, nicking one pancake before heading out after Steve, "Besides, I've got a call-meeting with Nat in five minutes. So I don't have time to dwell on it." That was his version of goodbye apparently, because after that, he was out the door, leaving Pietro on my own.
For now, at least. Avengers were frequently in and out of the kitchen. I grabbed a fork and took a seat as Pietro began to scarf down pancakes, his bright eyes switching between the television and I for what could've only been a few seconds. "They are only kind of impressive," he finally concluded, before sitting up and looking at me seriously. "Why do you look concerned?"
I sighed, one shoulder rising and falling in a shrug before I speared one of the smaller pancakes and brought it closer to my face to stare at it. "Just a feeling, Road Runner. Nothing to worry about."
He scoffed at that, devouring another pancake before fixing me with a crooked smile. "Not yet, you mean."
I smiled slightly at that. "Nice to know you have confidence in me."
Pietro smiled proudly, tilting his head as he looked at me. "I always have confidence in you."
I ignored the fact that I was blushing and dutifully continued eating my pancakes, somewhat relieved when Rhodey came into the room. He was still in sweat pants; from what I'd overheard between he and Tony, he'd been having to deal with a lot of issues in the Air Force lately, which meant weird sleeping hours. I hadn't seen him at training session so often, but then again, not all of the Avengers trained at the same time. When we did, it was kind of a rarity.
And we couldn't all do that right now, anyway, since Thor was somewhere not on Earth doing something involving 'Infinity Stones,' (whatever those are) and Bruce and Natasha had gone to help SHIELD with a gamma radiation issue in Siberia.
"Rhodey," I greeted cheerfully as he made his way to the bowls and cereal. Cereal seemed to be a go-to in this Tower.
"Megan, Pietro," Rhodey nodded absently, pouring himself cereal and milk before taking the seat one away from Pietro and glancing at the television for a second. There wasn't anything of note on at the moment, nothing to capture attention, so I wasn't surprised when his eyes dropped to his cereal for a moment.
"Sleep well?" I asked, finishing off another pancake and figuring I'd let Pietro eat the rest. As if he wasn't going to, anyway.
"As well as I'm going to get," Rhodey chuckled, his voice still thick from sleep. He looked up at the two of us then, arching a brow. "How 'bout you two lovebirds?"
"I slept fine," I volunteered.
Pietro just kind of shrugged before mumbling (around a mouthful of pancakes) "Was good."
"Glad somebody in this Tower's getting sleep," Rhodey sighed, stirring his cereal some. "Seems hard to come by lately."
"What exactly is the problem with the Air Force?" I came right out and asked. "That is, if it's not classified, and I'm actually allowed to know."
Rhodey cracked a smile at that, chuckling somewhat. "I mean, I don't know of any reasons you wouldn't be allowed to know," he said, leaning back some and turning his full attention to me. "There was a German plane a few months ago, around the time you all were in London handling that death ray, and we've been trying to track it ever since we realized it was Hydra in origin."
I stared at him in surprise at that. "A Hydra plane came onto the grid and the Air Force is dealing with it?"
Rhodey smiled slightly, shaking his head. "SHIELD's not in much of a position to do anything, given the, ah . . . issue that they had with Hydra."
Pietro shrugged. "Makes sense. Still, I do not think the Air Force is the best equipped to handle the people who made machines that can disintegrate people."
I nodded quickly in agreement, and Rhodey merely sighed, not hiding his eye roll very well. "Why else do you think I've got Stark helping me?"
"Because he probably did not stop bothering you about it," Pietro volunteered, a cheeky grin on his face.
Rhodey rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he finally took a bite of his cereal. "Y'know, I don't know why I bother with you people - you're all a bunch of smart alecks."
"You've got to admit, though," I grinned, "Pietro and I are way better than Tony in that regard."
Rhodey scoffed loudly. "Yeah, sure, you keep thinking that."
"She will," Pietro smiled.
I shrugged, not at all bothered by the attempted blow to my ego, "I definitely will. But anyway, this plane- you don't know where it went?"
Rhodey finished chewing another bite of cereal before answering me. "No, that's actually not the problem. We've found it, but we can't access it. Stark's been working on unlocking it without accidentally setting off something that would cause it to blow up . . . meanwhile, I've been trying to help track whoever was on board."
"Sounds like a long, boring job," I observed. "No wonder you're exhausted."
"I've been told it's about as painful as it was for Wilson and Rogers to track down Barnes," Rhodey agreed. "But if their situation was any indication, we'll find the guys."
"Guys? Plural?" Pietro asked curiously.
Rhodey nodded; "At least two of them, from the brief footage the Air Force got. But that was just who was visible in the cockpit, so we can't be sure."
I gave a low whistle, shaking my head. "Again: sounds like no fun."
"Yeah, well," Rhodey shrugged, scooping up another spoonful of cereal, "let's hope it was just a few stray Hydra agents who were on the run, and nothing'll come of it."
Pietro and I nodded, exchanging a look, before I murmured, "Here's hoping."