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After the team got back together, there was a subtle shift in priorities. While they still spent a lot of time in pursuit of justice, they all made a conscious effort to spend time together and help Steve and his formerly-brainwashed best friend ease back into the modern world. A tour of New York seemed like a logical choice of activity, to help them get their bearings and hopefully have some fun along the way.
Tony was the first to try and show them around the city, and it didn’t go as well as he’d hoped.
After a morning cruising around NYC, Happy pulled the limo into Stark Tower’s garage. Tony whipped off his sunglasses as the light dimmed, looking between the two super soldiers sitting across from him on the plush leather seats.
“So? What did you think?”
Steve shrugged and gave him a half-hearted smile. Bucky, who had dozed off onto Steve’s shoulder, made no reply.
Tony raised an eyebrow.
“It was… nice,” Steve said finally. “Thank you.”
“Yes, it was nice,” Tony said slowly, looking between them. “So why do you two look like we spent half the day watching paint dry?”
“Well…” Steve sighed. “When you said we were going out into the city, I thought we would actually get out of the car. But it was still nice,” he added, elbowing Bucky in the side. “Right, Buck?”
Bucky jolted awake, his flesh hand reaching for a knife that wasn’t there. “Is it over yet?”
“That’s it,” Tony said, shoving his sunglasses back on as Happy opened his door for him. “I give up. You try to do something nice…” Steve grimaced. “People pay big bucks for those double-decker tours, y’know. And we got out for brunch! Who doesn’t love the Plaza? Classic New York.”
Tony was still grumbling as he sat down to dinner with Pepper, Bruce, and Scott Lang, another exercise in team bonding. The restaurant was practically shabby compared to where he might have eaten in LA, but Scott and Bruce looked around in awe as they were handed menus by their waiter.
“I set aside half a day out of my extremely busy schedule-“ he lamented, and Pepper scoffed, “and give them a luxurious spin around Manhattan, and they don’t even bat an eye.”
“I don’t think they’re really the ‘luxurious’ type, Tony,” Bruce said gently.
“So what ‘type’ are they?” Tony wondered as Pepper accepted a menu on his behalf. “What more could they want?”
Scott looked over his menu at Tony. “Did you try asking-“
“I gave it my best shot,” Tony said as he considered the list of entrees. “My contribution to team dynamics is going back to equipment repairs and witty commentary on movie night.”
“You gave them a new perspective on the city,” Pepper said soothingly. “The fact that you all spent time together is what’s important. Things have been going really well ever since Deadpool helped you-“
“First rule of Deadpool: don’t talk about Deadpool,” Tony said shortly as the waiter rushed off to fetch their drink orders. “And stop wincing at the prices, Lang, you know dinner’s on me.”
Scott grinned guiltily, setting his menu on the table. “That’s really nice of you, Stark. Hey, would it be tacky to order an extra side to bring home?” he asked. “Cassie’s visiting tomorrow and she loves sweet potatoes.”
Tony shrugged. “Knock yourself out.”
“Pepper’s right, though,” Bruce added thoughtfully. “You gave them a look at the city, and maybe now they might appreciate a more… down-to-earth perspective.”
Tony spread his hands. “And who’s going to give them that?”
~
Bucky and Steve were sharing a pot of tea with Bruce in the TV room when they heard a door enthusiastically open and shut. Clint bounded in moments later, a bounce in his step and a smile on his face.
“Who’s ready for a tour?”
~
"I still don't understand why you have us in these getups," Steve grumbled, tugging on his shirt as he, Bucky, and Clint ambled down the street.
"So we don't get swamped by fans," Clint said, grinning back at them. "No need to thank me."
Steve and Bucky exchanged dubious looks. Steve was decked out in pineapple-printed khakis, a white shirt that said 'I'm Walking on Sunshine!' over a pink outline of the state of Florida, and a Donald Duck baseball cap with Donald's bill as the brim. Bucky had on a windbreaker covered in little Eiffel Towers, a Chicago baseball cap, jeans, a turquoise fanny pack, and a t-shirt that said 'My Aunt is a Flight Attendant' next to a smiling airplane.
Clint smiled just as wide as the plane, spreading his arms so they could better see the Yuri!!! on Ice t-shirt he was wearing under his purple leather jacket and Pikachu hat. "When New Yorkers see tourists, they turn away in disgust," he said cheerfully. "We're practically invisible. And we've reached our first stop!"
They followed Clint into a shabby little coffee shop and approached the counter. A muscular guy in a faded green apron watched them from behind the register. Clint waved and said, "Three coffees, black." The man nodded and walked over to the ancient coffee pot.
"I found this place while being chased by drug traffickers a while back," Clint said in a low voice while they waited for their drinks. "I ducked in to hide, and Rinaldo covered for me. I drop by at least once a week; they've got the best coffee around. And it's only a dollar!"
Steve held up a wrinkled paper menu. "What exactly makes it the 'worlds greatest'?"
Clint shrugged. "It's a dollar."
"Used to be you could get a cup for a dime," Bucky scoffed, giving the menu a disdainful look. The man pushed three paper cups across the counter, and Clint called out, "Thanks, Rinaldo! Come on, fellas, drink up."
Clint drank half of his in one gulp. Steve and Bucky took cautious sips, and immediately grimaced.
"This stuff could strip paint," Steve gasped as Bucky grumbled ominously in Russian.
"It wakes you right up," Clint agreed, downing the rest and chucking his cup into the trash can on the other side of the diner. "Now I'm ready to take on the city. Let's go!"
They trooped back out onto the sidewalk and wove through a crowd of people heading for a nearby theater, a flashing marquee advertising a Hitchcock Appreciation Weekend.
"That's a fun idea for a film festival," Clint remarked as they walked. "Hitchcock's pretty cool; you guys should probably watch those at some point."
Steve watched the eclectic group curiously. "Is there only one entrance?"
"Probably; that building looks pretty small." Rounding a corner, Clint pointed toward a sign in the distance. "Another city highlight: see those stairs? They go down to what we call the 'subway', which is like an underground train-"
"We know what the subway is, Barton," Bucky interjected, rolling his eyes.
Clint's hand dropped back to his side. "Really?"
"Believe it or not," Steve said, "the subway is older than we are."
"Oh." Clint blinked. "Huh. Well, I guess I'll have to find something else to wow you guys." They walked on, Clint pulling out his phone as they went. "Yeah, you're right; they built the subway in 1904. Man that's old."
"How did you find that out so fast?" Steve asked.
"Wikipedia," Clint said, waving his phone. At Steve's blank look, he added, "It's a database that anyone can add to that explains everything that's ever happened. Take a left up here, guys."
Up ahead they saw a big open air seating area covered with patio tables and umbrellas, a fountain splashing merrily alongside. Clint scratched his head.
"Huh. I thought this was where people came to ice skate," he said, looking around in confusion.
"It's almost May, Clint," Steve said kindly. "If they skate here they probably do it in the winter."
Clint groaned. "Okay, minor setback. But don't worry," he said, holding up a single finger and waving it in front of their doubtful faces. "I'm going to find us something fun and New York-ish to see if it kills me."
~
"Times Square!" Clint crowed, spreading his arms and giving a little spin. "Super New York-y. Although it doesn't look much like a square in person... weird, huh?"
Bucky inched subconsciously closer to Steve, his eyes darting around. "It's awful crowded."
Shifting until they were shoulder to shoulder, Steve nodded. "And noisy."
"We're in the middle of the city," Clint said, looking between them. "It's supposed to be crazy. People fly in from all over to be here; you see it in all the movies... Barnes? You still with us?"
Bucky was staring at a point over Clint's shoulder, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open in shock.
Steve and Clint followed his line of sight, and Steve's eyes widened, too. Clint raised an eyebrow.
"The M&M's Store? You guys want some candy?" Bucky turned to look at him, practically drooling on the sidewalk.
"Can we go in?"
Steve looked over, too, and Clint melted a little at the sight of their hopeful faces.
"Sure, why not?"
~
"Now that we have dessert," Clint said as they left the store, "how about some lunch?"
Steve and Bucky munched on M&M's while Clint pulled up a food app on his phone. "There should be some cheap pizza this way. What's more New York than pizza?"
"If my Ma knew how much we just spent on chocolate, she'd come back to life just so she could die of shock," Steve said ruefully, tossing another blue M&M into his mouth. Bucky mumbled a response, his mouth too full of candy to form a clear reply.
"Stark told us to 'have fun', so I don't feel guilty charging these onto his card," Clint said, digging into his own bag of purple chocolates. "How do you guys even know what these are? Weren't you too poor for junk food back then?"
"They used to send these overseas to the troops," Steve told Clint, who looked up in surprise. "Can't believe they're still around. And Bucky's always loved sweets: candy, fruit, you name it. The guys told me that if you needed a favor from Sargent Barnes, you had to bring some M&M's with you to butter him up." Bucky rolled his eyes and chucked a black M&M at Steve's face; Steve caught it and tossed it into his mouth with a chuckle.
Clint shook his head. "I had no idea. It's funny what changes and what doesn't huh? Ooh, here's the pizza place!"
Steve took in their surroundings with a frown. "Did that sign say 'Little Brazil Street'?"
"Looks like it. C'mon, let's get in line." After a short wait, Clint smiled at the teenager behind the register and said, “Three cheese, three pepperoni, and three sodas,” holding out the sleek credit card Tony had given him. The guy raised an eyebrow at the card but rang them up and turned his attention to the next customer.
Clint and Steve sat down at a wobbly little table, followed by Bucky with his arms full of pizza.
“Now it’s a party!” Clint said, reaching out to take his slice. As they dug in, he asked, “Good, right?”
Bucky shrugged. “At least half of the employees are currently on drugs,” he said matter-of-factly, taking a big bite of pepperoni.
Steve and Clint exchanged a look. “High on pizza fumes, hopefully,” Clint said awkwardly, finishing up his slices and chugging his soda. “But just to be safe, let’s-”
Bucky’s head turned sharply. “Eight o’clock.”
Steve spun in his seat, his eyes narrowing. He was on his feet in an instant, his hand shooting out and snagging a man’s wrist before he could rifle through a woman’s purse. The man tried to pull away from Steve, eyes widening when he couldn’t budge. The woman, oblivious, wandered away with her friends.
“Get lost,” Steve growled, and the man nearly ran headlong into the doorframe to do as he said.
Bucky gave him an approving nod as Steve returned to their table and gathered up their paper plates. Clint rubbed the back of his neck.
“Pretty good, for a dollar a slice,” he said sheepishly. “But I guess you’re paying for atmosphere, huh?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “We should probably get moving.”
Clint sighed. “Yeah, probably.”
~
After tidying up their table, they headed back out and resumed their walk. Clint thumbed through his phone, chewing on his lower lip as he thought. Steve and Bucky walked in front of him so he wouldn’t bump into anyone, comfortably full of pizza and happy to take their time.
"Okay, why don't we walk down Broadway? Broadway's supposed to be fun." With a shrug, they changed course and continued on. They asked questions now and then, pointing out unfamiliar landmarks or the behaviors of the people around them, and Clint answered as best he could, turning to Wikipedia when he got stumped. They finally seemed to be enjoying themselves, but after the first mile or so, Clint’s feet were starting to hurt.
"Wow Broadway's long," Clint groaned, dragging himself along behind the two super soldiers. "Whose idea was this again?"
Steve laughed and said, "Yours." He tried to snag some M&M's, but Bucky was too quick, holding the bag close to his chest with a challenging glare. Grinning, Steve added, "You're our guide, Clint; we can change direction if you want."
Looking ahead, Clint brightened at the sight of the next street sign. "Let's turn right up here on Liberty Street! Sounds like something you'd like."
After a couple of blocks they found themselves on the edge of a park, the roar of water reaching their ears before they saw a massive sunken fountain. Steve walked up to take a look, Bucky at his heels, neither noticing that their guide stood frozen several feet behind them.
"What's this, Clint?" Steve asked, running a large hand along the names etched into the stone barrier.
Clint cringed at the sight of their open, curious faces. Hating himself a little in that moment, he sighed and said, "Well..."
~
The next morning, Natasha came down to the communal kitchen to find Clint slumped over the table, his face squashed against the surface next to his mug. She noted with surprise that the coffee inside appeared to be untouched.
"I take it the grand tour of New York wasn't a success?"
Clint groaned.
"The three of you came back in one piece, I didn't hear a single explosion..." When that didn't get a response, she asked more seriously, "What happened?"
"Where do I even start?" Clint mumbled into the table. "The city is crowded and crime-ridden, everything is too expensive-"
"Sounds like a regular day," Bruce said, walking in and pulling out a kettle, "when you're spending it with members of the Greatest Generation."
"Ha freakin' ha."
"When old people whine, it means they're secretly having fun," Natasha said, a spark of mischief in her eyes as she pulled down a mug for herself.
Clint finally dragged his head up from the table, his hair standing at an alarming angle and red creases on his cheek. "And when I tried to just take them on a nice walk, we accidentally went to the World Trade Center Memorial and I had to explain what it was for. I think Cap cried a little." Clint glanced down at his cooling coffee, looking close to tears himself. "It couldn't possibly have gone worse. I shoulda just let Happy drive them around some more."
Natasha sent him a sympathetic look, typing furiously on her phone. While Bruce poured them all tea, adding an extra spoonful of honey to one mug and using it to nudge Clint’s coffee aside, she said, “No one’s heard any complaints from them. Why don’t you try one more time, but in Brooklyn this time?”
Clint, who had been giving the tea a dubious look, shifted the look to Natasha. “Wouldn’t that make them even sadder? What if their favorite spots have been bulldozed? I bet nothing’s the same.”
Natasha held up her phone. “Pepper says there’s a farmer’s market in Prospect Park tomorrow; that’s pretty much the same as before. Take them there and see what happens.”
Sipping cautiously at his tea, Clint smiled at Bruce, who grinned back. “Fine, one more try,” he said, and Natasha smiled, too. “But if it goes south, I’m fulling blaming you.”
She laughed. “As long as I get the credit if it works.”
~
“This is nice, right?” Clint asked nervously as he, Steve, and Bucky wandered through Prospect Park, taking in the market. “Please let this be nice.”
“It’s very nice, Clint,” Steve said, grinning. “We had some good times in this park. And it’s always nice to be able to afford food.” Pointing at the next stall, he added, “After Bucky comes back from the fruit seller, let’s get Bruce some of those lentils.”
Bucky strode over a moment later, biting a plum and zipping his bulging backpack closed. “All set.”
As they continued their walk, Clint finally said, “Hey, I’m sorry about before. You guys deserved a really great tour, and I guess I blew it.”
Steve exchanged a look with Bucky before turning to Clint, clearly confused. “We had fun, Clint. We really appreciate you taking the time.”
“Really?” Clint looked between them, not quite daring to hope. “But there was no ice skating, and you can’t get anything for a dime, and that lady almost got robbed-“
“Almost, because we stopped it,” Bucky cut in, handing over some cash for a bag of lentils.
“And that pizza was actually pretty good,” Steve added, shoving his hands into his pockets. “For a dollar.”
Clint gaped at them, a smile slowly taking over his face. “I bet if we raised our budget to five, we’d find some that would really blow your minds,” he said. “After all, it’s Tony’s money, right?”
After a moment of comfortable silence, Clint asked, “You really had fun?”
“Sure we did,” Steve said, shrugging. “It’s not like you took us to a Yankee game. We got to see that database of yours work its magic, that was something else. Candy and pizza, that was a swell lunch. And it’s nice to see places doing away with colored entrances. Sam says they don’t like to be called ‘colored’ anymore,” Steve added thoughtfully. “It’s good when you get to choose your own labels, and people respect it.”
They reached the edge of the park and stopped. Steve pointed to a fancy building across the street. “That used to be a school.”
Clint had already pulled out his phone. “Looks like it still is. It became Medgar Evers College in 1970.”
Steve and Bucky leaned closer. “How did it get its name?”
They read over Clint’s shoulder for a moment, and he visibly slumped as they made it to the bottom of the article. “Poor guy,” Clint said quietly. “History sure is rough.”
Steve gave his shoulder a squeeze. “He gave his life to make the world a better place. And his sacrifice wasn’t forgotten.” Tipping his head toward the school, he said, “They’ve honored him here, and it’ll remind each new generation how important it is to stand up for themselves. And for each other.”
They wandered back into the park, content to people watch in silence. After a while, Clint asked, “So what did you guys do for fun, way back when?”
Bucky rubbed his chin. “The memories are slow to come, but I think my favorite pastime was taking care of Steve,” he said seriously. “Dragging Steve out of fights, nursing Steve back to health-“
“We went to the movies,” Steve said, punching Bucky in the shoulder and ignoring his grin. “We could usually scrounge up enough change. It got us out of the weather, and they would sometimes give us yesterday’s old popcorn.”
They came across a young man covered in tattoos playing a battered old piano beside the path. Steve’s face lit up. “The Marx Brothers were our favorite,” he went on, moving closer. "Remember when Harpo and Chico played that piano duet and all those dames gathered 'round to listen? All the guys joked around about taking lessons to get some help with the ladies, but you said..." Steve trailed off, giving Bucky a fragile smile before turning away.
"I said..." Steve's head whipped around, eyes bright with hope and surprise. "I said," Bucky continued, sounding a little unsure, "that you and I didn't need any help."
"Yeah, Buck," Steve breathed, and Clint had to turn away from the naked joy on his face. "That's exactly what you told 'em."
Clint watched the pigeons gathered near the musician’s feet, smiling to himself. Maybe this mission was a success after all.
~
“Look, it’s a picture from Steve!”
Pepper held her phone out just as Tony’s buzzed in his pocket. Rather than see if he had gotten the same one, Tony leaned forward for a closer look. His eyebrows shot up.
“Are you kidding me?”
It was a picture of Steve, Bucky, and Clint, dressed in a garish hodge-podge of clothing, having tea at the Plaza Hotel with their pinkies out. As a caption, he had simply written-
“#BrunchTime? Who taught Steve about hashtags?!”
“I think it’s adorable,” Pepper said, smiling at the screen. As their waiter came over with their cucumber waters, she asked, “Would you mind taking our picture?” The man nodded, setting down their drinks and accepting the phone. Tony rolled his eyes but leaned in close as the waiter snapped a couple shots.
“I sent them one, so we can all be hashtag brunch buddies,” Pepper said, grinning. Tony scoffed and took a sip of water.
“They weren’t so keen when I took them. I get no respect around here, Pep. No respect.”
Their phones buzzed again. “They said we should join them next time, since, and I quote, ‘it was our pal Tony who introduced us to this swell spot’,” Pepper said dryly.
Tony blinked. “Okay, I get some respect.” The waiter brought out their frittatas; while he set down their plates with a respectful nod, Tony dug out his phone and thumbed through the pictures, clearly fighting back a smile. “How did they even get a table? Barnes’ hat has Mickey Mouse ears.”
Pepper took a dainty bite of eggs and smiled. “As different as all of you are, there’s not one Avenger that isn’t charming when they want to be.”
Tony zoomed in on the picture. “Katniss has a spoon balanced on his nose.”
Pepper laughed. “I’m glad they’re having fun. And I look forward to sharing brunch with them on Saturday; I’ve already put it on your calendar.”
“You are frighteningly efficient, Mrs. Stark.”
“I will take that as a compliment, Mr. Stark.” They smiled at each other, then returned to their food before it got too cold to enjoy. “I also asked everyone to join us for dinner at the Tower this evening, so we could hear more about Clint’s adventures as a tour guide,” Pepper added, taking a sip of water and clearing her throat. “And to celebrate.”
Tony sent her a questioning look as he picked up his own glass. “Celebrate what?”
“Do you still have your heart set on ‘Morgan’?”
Tony choked on his water.
Pepper smiled.
~The End~