I Thought You Were Different: Part 5

Bonding

Clint and Natasha had returned to the compound within days of your visit, and it astounded you how much you hadn't realized what their absence had done to you and everyone else on the team. Having them home was the return of a missing piece, the strength of a healed fracture; you felt a new sense of hope with your friends once again at your side, and for the first time in a little while, you were confident that everything would be okay after all. Their first night home had an unspoken tension despite the welcome of having them back, but it wasn't their doing; it was the environment that they had jumped into.

"Alright everyone, I hope you brought your strong stomachs," Steve announced to the team quietly as they sat at the dining table, "(Y/N) and Tony insisted on making dinner tonight. Alone." He turned to each member individually with a look that was completely serious, but his eyes carried his worry. "So listen, no matter what they bring out here, just act like you like it, okay? They've been in there most of the day and they just want something positive for everyone and for us to feel together again. Please, go along with it."

"I brought the dessert, which I absolutely did not make, so if nothing else, survive until then for the payoff," Natasha added with a smirk.

An audible sigh of relief spread throughout the group, but when the conversation was about to begin again, Sam coughed and waved a just as subtle warning, signaling your arrival from behind Steve. "Hey, (Y/N), what've you got there? It smells..." he stopped, almost surprised at his own honesty, "it smells amazing, actually."

"Thank you," you answered with a little bow, "I do what I can. Are you guys hungry?"

"Starving," Steve was the first to answer, followed by a chorus of agreement from the rest.

"Good, because I think we have enough food to feed an army in there. Dad went a little overboard."

"You say that like it's a new thing," Rhodey added. "I've known that guy longer than any of you, and this is how it's always been. Go big or go home."

As you passed by to put the first dish on the table, Steve reached out and gently touched your arm to get your attention, "are the kids helping? Any problems?"

"They've been good. Dad's keeping a firm hand in there. No one's tried to get away with anything yet that I've seen."

"Not even you?" he smiled, and you could see that he was hoping for something. Little did he know, that you had been put in your place a few times during the long day of cooking. You and Tony could verbally spar on a legendary level, and the confinement in a hot kitchen fed that skill very well.

"I'd um...I don't know why you would think...no, we've been just fine."

"Convincing, doll."

"Shut up, we're fine," you insisted. With a quick pointed glare and a stuck-out tongue, you pulled away from his grip and returned to get the next dish. The sounds of cooking that had filled the room throughout the day were finally silencing, as were the voices of your kids, who had been forced into servitude as their punishment for their behavior with Steve, but also so that Tony could study them without them being aware.

Just as you rounded the corner, Anthony and Grant emerged with their hands full, followed by Brooklyn with her skills in telekinesis doing the work for her, much to her brother's chagrin. Tony looked as if he were purposefully waiting for you, his movements slow while he put the last few ingredients into the salad he called a masterpiece, though he didn't overtly acknowledge you there until you were at his side. "I didn't see anything worrisome," he spoke softly, "they acted normal all day. I called Strange earlier, and he said he can stop by tomorrow."