Percy Jackson meets the Avengers

Two words: hApPy MeAls

I nodded and ran for the elevator in the penthouse, in mock distress. Nat followed in suit.

Once we reached the ground floor she turned on me and blocked the door. "What are you scheming?"

"You'll see," I grinned. And hear.

"You're getting them together, right?"

(Like I said aPhRoDiTe ThE pRoFessIoNal iNtErFeReR)

My reply was a faeces-eating grin that I prided myself with.

She nodded and grinned. "They're made for eachother."

. . .

We arrived at the tower late. It was a wonder that we made it at all. No, not because the traffic was murder - though it was. Because Natasha Romanov is a sucker for McDonalds.

I think we bought the entire stock of happy meals.

"It's for Clint!" She insisted. Though that was hard to believe seeing as she was currently playing with one of the mini-Hulk toys.

"You know those things are just coloured pieces of plastic, right?"

"I know, I know, but!" She held up the Hulk figurine in my face - which was dangerous seeing as I was driving. "Look at his tiny little fists!!"
She moved the arms of the figure and spun them around until they practically came off. At least she was doing something, as productive as it was not. All I could do was stare at the endless traffic that flowed way over all the bridges.

After ten minutes we trickled forward slowly through the traffic. I couldn't bear it. The slow movement of the car. The fact that people outside were moving faster. The irresistible waft of chicken nuggets and deep fried unhealthy things in the back seat.

"Hand me one of those!" I declared, reaching my hand out into the back seat.

Natasha palmed me a cup of Chicken Nuggets and I swerved the car up the curb and zoomed along the roadside, hitting only two pedestrians along the way.

"Weak!" Yelled Nat from the back of the car. "You can hit at least twice that if you really try!"

"You can talk MISS HAPPY MEALS!"

She frowned.

With a crash we skidded to a halt and I unbuckled. Nat wasn't buckled in the first place, but she unclipped the plastic Hulk from his seat belt and moved to grab the sack full of Happy Meals.

We ran into the building - Sams house, I think - and passed Sam on the way in, who was rearranging everyone's shoes at the front door. Just because I'm a jerk I kicked a sandal into the entryway on the way past.

Hurriedly assembled in the lounge sat the somewhat disgruntled Avengers.

"Where have you been, Tony?" Ground out Steve. "It's been fifteen minutes."

"Traffic," I replied.

"And Happy Meals." Nat grinned and shared them out.

Steve shot a frown. "tHiS iS sErIoUs."

"About that," purred Nat with a sly smile.

. . .

After a long explanation and some apologies, the Avengers were prepared for mission SPY ON THE KIDS! Yeah, no. I wish. Steve insisted we go back to check on them. And apologise SiNcErElY. Since when was I sincere?

Never, that's when.

But I could do apologies.

We were quick to rocket down the street, even through the traffic. We were eveen quicker to climb the stairs to the penthouse, where a mad party was in full swing. The kids.

. . .