Avengers 1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, any of its content or characters. I am not making money off of, nor do I intend to, this story or any of its chapters.

Warning: There is some foul language in this story. Much like anything else I've written, I tend not to censor much. Proceed with caution.

Chapter 1: Register 001

New York City, for whatever ungodly reason, was unbearably hot that day, much to the aggravation of all those living and working there. For the employees at a local grocery store near Brooklyn, it was a nightmare. Anyone working in Customer Service that day would likely die of either a heat stroke or an aneurysm by the end of their shift, whichever happened to come first.

The usually-kind lady at register 001, Bryn, was banking on an aneurysm. Because, Odin-forbid, if one more customer came in to return a half-eaten item, she might just lose it completely. She smiled at the cranky elderly woman glaring at her from across the Customer Service counter and did her best to keep hostility from seeping into the words she spoke.

"Ma'am, I am terribly sorry that you had a bad experience with your produce. I really, honestly am, but I cannot give you a refund on an item that you do not have and do not have the receipt for. It's against company policy." Bryn said, her voice soft, but unwavering.

"That tomato was _rotten_! You could tell just by looking at it! I was sick for three days! Couldn't get off the damn toilet!" The crotchety senior citizen yelled.

Bryn cringed and looked helplessly at her co-worker, Jeff, who was giggling behind the magazine rack off to the right. After 8 days straight of work and some serious overtime, the would-be patient woman "lost her shit", so to speak.

"Well, if it looked rotten, then _why did you eat the tomato_?!"

"I was hungry. And too tired to come back to the store. If you were an older woman, you'd understand how hard it is for someone like me to make such a trip!"

"No refunds for eaten merchandise, ma'am. If you don't have your receipt, I can't give you any money back. I'm terribly sorry." Bryn was shaking at this point.

"You ungrateful little-" The grouchy woman began.

Bryn took both hands, formed them into fists, and slammed them down onto the counter. She leaned over, closer to the now silent, slightly terrified old woman and let out a menacing, animalistic growl.

"No. Refunds. **Get. Out**."

The old lady half-ran, half-hobbled out of the store. Jeff sighed and shook his head, walking over to his co-worker.

"You know, I think you should take a day off…" Jeff began, wringing his hands. "You could, well, unwind a bit."

"Yeah. I think I'll do that. Tell one of the ding-dong summer workers to take my shift tomorrow, before I do something drastic. I'll stay on for the rest of the night, but I'm gone at 10:00, and no later."

"There, that's more like it!" Jeff smiled and patted Bryn on the arm.

"You are entirely too cheerful today. And get your hand off my arm before I stick it up your ass."

* * *

It had been several months since Fury had insisted upon having the Avengers life in Stark's tower. All things considered, it was a logical idea in case of an emergency. Putting said idea into practice, however, was a little more difficult with so many strong personalities all under one roof. Granted, it was a very large building and a very large roof, but it was still _one _building and _one _roof.

Tony and Steve didn't get along very well. Well, maybe that was an understatement. Steve and Tony disliked each other...a lot. The arguments between the two sometimes escalated to the point where one would leave the tower for hours at a time. Usually Steve, because, as Stark so eloquently put it, it was _his_ tower and he _wasn't fucking leaving his own tower because Spangles had a gigantic bug up his star-spangled ass_.

The other team members seemed to get along okay. Natasha and Clint kept to themselves, with Clint being the more social of the two. Both were fairly friendly to everyone else, provided that their personal space was not invaded. Bruce would tinker in his lab for hours on end, use the gym, and occasionally the control room in an extreme bout of anger. Luckily for everyone, that rarely happened. Thor, the thunder God, would stop in from Asgard periodically; he got along with everyone and wasn't a problem at all. As long as plenty of PopTarts were kept in the tower's kitchen, he wouldn't have to put the hammer down.

There had been an incident in the kitchen this morning. Not a huge incident or anything resulting in injury, but an incident nonetheless. And this conflict was why Steve Rogers was sort of walking, sort of storming down the streets of Brooklyn, going to the only store he was familiar with. Being new to an area was one thing. Being new to an entire _way of life_ after about 70 years of being frozen? Well, that took some adjusting to.

John's Grocery and Deli had been one of the first stores Steve shopped at. He had familiarized himself with the area when he lived in his S.H.I.E.L.D issued apartment in Brooklyn before moving to Stark's _Swanky-Fricken'-Tower_. And yes, those were Tony's words, not his. Getting back to the matter at hand, Steve was comfortable with the layout of the grocery store and was able to find what he needed without much trouble. Thanks to the _incident_, he had to go get more of the items he preferred to eat. Tony, being the huge dick that he was, threw most of them away. Something about them being _damned awful_ for human consumption. The iron-clad man often forgot about the Captain's accelerated metabolism. The man, simply put, had to eat a shitload of food very often. Walking through the doors of the grocery store, he grabbed a cart and made his way through the aisles, sporadically grabbing whatever he thought looked appetizing.

* * *

Bryn was losing her mind. It was hot, people were shouting at her every time they walked up to her counter, and every muscle in her body had tensed up to the point of concrete-hardness. She was not in the mood for anyone's shit. _Anyone's_! She didn't care _who_ walked through that door or _what_ kind of crap they gave her. She wasn't taking it. So when the lovely college student at Register 003 waved her over with some sort of issue, her eye twitched as she locked her terminal and strolled over.

It seemed that some asshole was giving Lily some trouble. Sweet, redheaded little Lily at 5'1, who wouldn't even dream of hurting a fly. She was attempting to smile reassuringly at the fuming middle-aged man when Bryn walked over.

"Bryn, the terminal isn't accepting this man's card. It keeps displaying an error message. Can you look at it?"

"Sure. Sir, could you swipe that one more time for me?"

The man gave Bryn an ugly look, which wasn't hard seeing as his entire face was kind of ugly, and swiped his card. She ran it as credit and waited for it to process, which was the standard procedure with every card. When the error window popped up on the screen it simply read **I.S: Insufficient Funds**. Lily, being new, had never run into that before, but Bryn certainly had many times.

"Alright, sir. I apologize for the inconvenience, but our terminal is displaying that you have an insufficient amount in your account to cover this transaction. It won't let the transaction go through without enough in there to cover it. Unfortunately, there's not much we can do about this particular issue." Bryn calmly stated.

"Well, your terminal is fuckin' wrong, lady!" The man shouted. "I want to see a manager!"

"Sir, I am a manager. And our Point of Sale system is very accurate. It is hardly ever wrong. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. Do you have any other means of payment?"

"Up yours, bitch! You people don't know what the hell you're talking about! I've got plenty of money on this! It's a credit card! It doesn't run out!"

Lily took a step back to hide behind her co-worker's shoulder, which was a wise move on her part. At 5'8, Bryn was not a petite woman. Her dark brown, almost charcoal colored eyes glared down at the raging man she easily towered over and her smile turned into a cold frown. She pushed Lily back behind her a little further so she could step closer to the guy.

"Sir, we can't help you here and the problem is not on our end. Should you make a spectacle of yourself, you will be asked to leave."

"Fuck you! What kind of customer service is this?!"

Steve Rogers, having gotten all of his groceries, was waiting patiently in line behind this...asshole. He was about to say something to help the two gals out when the tall, dark haired one did something unexpected.

Bryn reached out and grabbed ahold of the card-reader. Lily backed up another foot, unsure of what her co-worker was doing. She watched in fascinated horror as her manager picked up the card reader, ripped it off its mount with a grunt, and slammed it to the floor, shattering the casing and sending sparks flying.

"Oh...that's a shame. I'm terribly, terribly sorry sir. Our card reader appears to be...broken." Bryn touched her fingers to the screen in front of her and tapped a couple of buttons. "And our other terminals are undergoing maintenance, which will take about an hour. Unless you'd like to wait the full hour, you may want to go to a nearby store for your groceries. Again, I'm awfully sorry we've inconvenienced you."

The enraged customer stormed out after flipping his cart over, spewing curses that would make a sailor blush with shame the entire time. Bryn smiled and picked up the horribly mangled card-reader from the floor.

"Okay Lily, just accept cash and checks for now until I get this replaced. It should be here by tomorrow. You can send anyone with a credit card over to me, or to Register 006. For the record, I don't think that dick will be bothering you again." Bryn smiled.

"Um...yes. Thanks…"

"You are most welcome, my dear."

With that small issue out of the way, Bryn went back to the Customer Service desk to await new customers. Strangely enough, everyone else seemed to be acting very pleasant to her after that. On the downside, her boss would have a coronary when he heard about the damaged equipment and disorderly conduct, but she'd deal with that later. Maybe she'd finally get fired so she could go on vacation for a while…

Steve was dumbfounded as he unloaded his groceries onto the conveyer belt.

"How are you today, sir?" Lily smiled at him.

"Um, I'm good. How are you?"

"Great! Did you find everything okay?"

"Yeah, I did. Thank you, miss."

**After paying for his groceries and loading his stuff back into the cart, the Captain made his way out of the store, taking one last glance back at the attractive, but possibly insane Customer Service Rep. At least he'd have something interesting to talk about at dinner tonight.**


	2. Chapter 2: Frozen in Time

Chapter 2: Frozen in Time

Attempting to get all of his items into the Stark Tower hadn't exactly been a picnic by the time the Captain had returned home a few hours later. It had become even more of a pain in the ass when he decided not to use any modern technology to assist himself, despite Jarvis' offer to help him out. It wasn't that he didn't want to use said equipment; he just didn't know how, and he wasn't about to look like an idiot trying.

Getting everything put away in the kitchen, once he got it into the elevator and back out again, seemed like a piece of cake. In no time, he was finished and trying to decide what he should be doing next. Besides eating, of course, because that was a given. Venturing back up into his room one floor above the main kitchen, edible supplies in hand, he convinced himself that drawing might ease his mind a bit. Stepping into his room, Steve let his body relax somewhat as soon as the doors closed behind him. Tony could harp on him all he wanted to outside his living area about the modern advancements in everyday life he _should_ be using, but he couldn't force him to actually integrate it into his personal space.

Stepping into Steve's room, for that reason alone, was like walking back into a time when things were a bit simpler. It was tastefully decorated, but still held a touch of years gone by. Bookshelves lined one of the walls and where the shelves ended, there was a comfortable 1940's era armchair that had been reupholstered and well cared for. The dark brown couch, located in the center of the room was a very comfortable sectional with beautiful steel blue pillows. The carpeting, much like the pillows, was also a shade of steel blue. Tony had been nice enough to install an electric fireplace in the room after learning of Steve's aversion to the cold. Off the living room, there was a small 60" kitchenette and an island with a couple of bar stools, done in a natural looking wood substitute that was relatively easy to clean. On the wall opposite the bookshelf, there was an older desk, a stool, and an easel. Two doors were on the wall farthest from the door. One led to the bathroom, the other to the bedroom. It was a cozy area that served him well should he want to get away from the others for a while.

Tony insisted that the room was outdated and needed to be brought up to speed. It was one of the many things he and the Captain argued about. Steve, stubborn as he was, refused to redo any of it. It was one of the few places that looked anything like home to him.

The Captain sat in his stool next to his easel and began sketching. The wall in front of him held drawings of all kinds; Bucky, Peggy, the men he had fought with, the neighborhood he grew up in, and a few of his teammates here and there. No one seemed to understand how incredibly difficult it was to fall asleep in the 1940's, and wake up in 2013. His only solace was the space he was sitting in and the charcoal pencil in his hand as it worked across the canvas.

* * *

Bryn took a deep breath, surveying the busy city from her rooftop. Being on the top floor of her building in her studio apartment had its advantages. The lights flickered, reflecting in her eyes and giving the woman a gaze more intense than usual. Her features were set into a deep frown as she contemplated the day's events. Yes, she had unfortunately gotten fired, but she supposed she had it coming with destroying equipment and all. It still stung a bit, as she had worked her way up from the bottom at that store for a total of 5 years. Five years, to her, was a long time to stay in one spot.

Her life, she thought, was too monotonous. Boring. Dull. She was behind the times when it came to what was going on around her and while she had several acquaintances she got on well with, she couldn't really say she had any close friends. Hell, she hadn't been out for a drink in three years now.

"What the hell am I doing with myself?" She muttered, hair falling in loose strands from her ponytail. "I'm just wasting my life in this shithole."

Bryn tipped her glass back, downing the last of her whiskey and flung the ice cubes over the roof. She headed back down the stairs toward her apartment, contemplating how she was going to spend her night now that she didn't really have to wake early in the morning.

"Fuck it. I'll just go out."

And that's how she found herself in a crowded bar in Manhattan, dancing to Lily Allen's "Hard Out Here" with some strange woman she hardly knew. Dressed in her best jeans, sneakers that weren't shitty, and a regular black t-shirt, she was having a drunken blast.

* * *

Thor had all but begged "Brother Steven" to come downstairs with him. With his evening plans disturbed, Steve followed the ThunderGod, asking him what he wanted his company for. His answer was not something that Steve was really looking forward to.

"Everyone else went to have an outing at the tavern they went to last week. I thought you might want to join in, brother." The large man clapped him on the back. "It'll be a joyous time!"

Steve found himself going along despite his wishes; he didn't think he could bear the look on Thor's face if he shot him down. On the upside, at least he wouldn't be the only one out of place with the Asgardian along for the ride.

* * *

Everything was all fun, games, and smiles until the woman Bryn was dancing with broke her phone. Her very expensive, very bedazzled smart phone that had just come out about a month prior. Leading the lovely lady, whose name was Michelle, Bryn just learned, to a booth toward the back, the two females sat down. The taller brunette began pulling out a series of small tools from her wallet; tiny screwdrivers, a very little soldering iron (How the hell did that even fit in there?), some...other things that no one could really identify, and so on until she had all of them on the back table. She pried the case off the phone and began working on it as her blonde dance partner looked on in awe.

"You've got a few loose little wires in here. And some moisture damage. I'll fix it right up for ya, honey!"

It took her all of two minutes before Bryn had the phone put back together and returned to its original owner. She was unaware that there was a very fascinated, very drunk Tony Stark staring at her. When she looked up, she almost jumped out of her skin.

"Jesus, pal! What the hell? Why are you just...looming over me like that? Do I even know you?"

"Do you…" Tony paused for a moment, trying to find the words he was looking for. "Do you want a job?"

"Oh no, pal! I'm not into that! I've been approached by your kind before, and I'm not interested in doing anything weird, so forget it!" Bryn growled.

"No, no, no! You've-you've got it all wrong, you see...I need someone to fix stuff for me. When it breaks! Little stuff, that I don't have the time for!" Tony smiled and handed her a card, swaying a bit. "Just show up here if you're interested, sweetheart."

And with typical Stark drunken swagger, he strolled away, leaving Bryn staring at his retreating form with one eyebrow raised.

"Well...that was fucking different." She muttered, turning to her now smiling friend for the evening. "Wanna get back to dancing?"


	3. Chapter 3: Out of Desperation

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, its characters, or its content. I do not own any songs, devices, etc. named in this story. I am not making money off of this story or any of its chapters, nor do I intend to.

* * *

Out of Desperation

It had been about three months since Bryn had gone out to that bar and received a business card from Tony Stark. She was mildly put, floored when she found out whose card it was. The brunette pondered over it for quite some time about a week ago before she chalked it up to the billionaire being hammered while he watched her tinker with the phone. Now though, sitting in her studio apartment looking at the stack of bills she had to pay, she was reconsidering the man's offer. He likely wouldn't still be interested, provided he even remembered giving her the damn paper, but she thought it might be worth a try. And she was running out of options. If she didn't act now, they'd evict her. She only had one more week to come up with the rent, and she was $150 shy. After being fired from the supermarket, she had attempted to get a job elsewhere. With 5 years experience, she didn't think it'd be that difficult, but she was wrong. Every shop she applied to was either staffed enough or had heard about her "aggressive temperament" when they looked her up. Bryn was beginning to lose hope.

Bryn went to school three years prior, taking whatever courses interested her at the time. She discovered her knack for tinkering with all things that had some sort of current running through them and gradually learned how to repair just about anything you would use on a day-to-day basis. Though she was never able to actually afford to get her Bachelor's Degree, and had to leave a year early, she knew enough to be proficient. The Customer Service position was something that took over her life afterwards; she had to find a way to pay off all that debt and it was the only job paying enough to do so. She was two payments away from financial freedom in that respect, but now she was at a standstill. Worse yet, in today's society, there were no need for repairmen anymore. When something broke, it would be replaced with a new one.

The twenty-four year old woman found herself picking up her cellphone and dialing the number on the card. She was greeted by the friendly voice of a woman who agreed to, after she explained the situation, patch her over to Mr. Stark. After being on hold for about half an hour, the man himself finally answered the phone.

"Mr. Stark, my name is Bryn Mercier. I'm calling in regards to the business card you gave me." She tried to speak pleasantly to the man.

"And where did I meet you again?"

"Down at the bar in Manhattan, about three months ago. I was fixing a phone. You told me you could use someone to fix little stuff that you didn't have time for…"

"Oh, okay. I remember you now. Yeah, sure. Come on in for an interview. The guy we have now sucks."

Bryn blinked trying to process what he just said before he started speaking again.

"You do know where the Stark Tower is, don't you?" He smirked, awaiting her response.

"Of course I do. How the fuck could anyone miss it? It's a giant tower."

Bryn put her head in her hand. She really hadn't meant for those words to slip out. It was silent on the other end for a moment before the line sprang to life again.

"I like you already! This Thursday, 11:00 AM. Don't be late." Tony hung up the phone.

Bryn sat on her futon, dumbfounded. She had, for some reason, expected him to be a lot more formal than that.

* * *

Steve Rogers had a problem...with technology. It seemed, as of late, that these little problems were becoming a constant in his life. He had an acquired skill when it came to breaking appliances and equipment. It wasn't exactly his fault; he hadn't been around any of this high-tech crap when he was young, so how did they expect him to know how to use it?

This led to Steve standing in Tony's lab with a microwave in his hands. A horribly mangled microwave.

"Spangles, I know you're technologically retarded…" Stark began, "but how in the hell did you manage this?"

"I...well…" The Captain was at a loss for words. "I don't know. I just wanted to cook some lasagna. It said microwave safe on the dish."

"Was there anything covering the dish?"

"Just some tin foil."

"Spangles, you're a fucking idiot."

Another argument ensued. A very loud argument that led to two full grown men using very childish language and tossing a broken microwave back and forth.

"Fine!" Tony finally screamed. "Fine! I'll find someone who can fix the damn thing! Could've just bought you a new one, but noooooo! You've gotta have _this_ one!"

"You can't just throw one of these away! They're expensive!" Steve whined.

"I'm a billionaire!" Tony pulled out his phone. "I'm calling someone right now. And if she can fix this...fucking mess you've made, she can have a job here!"

* * *

Bryn was startled by the ringing of her phone. She dried her hands off and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Miss Mercier, how are you this evening?"

"Mr. Stark? I'm, um, good. How are you?"

"Oh, just super. Could you possibly come to the tower in about, say, half an hour? I'd like to conduct your interview immediately."

"...Sure? Let me grab a few things and I'll be right over. Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah, no problem. Don't thank me yet."

The man hung up the phone, leaving the young woman as confused as he did earlier that day. What could possibly be so important about her interview that it had to be immediately done?

* * *

Bryn was beginning to wish she had never asked that question as she sat surveying the ex-microwave in front of her. Tony was smirking at her from behind his desk.

"You want me to fix this."

"Yes. If you can fix this, you can work here." Tony grinned.

"It's a…it's a disaster." Bryn took a deep breath. "Let me grab some tools. I got this."

Without a single glance toward the billionaire, she began to work. It was a project that was going to take hours, but she loved a challenge. Tony sat with a StarkPadd, working on something else while she tinkered with the microwave. There was no way in hell she'd be able to fix that thing...After an appliance saw the wrong side of Captain America, it was never right again.

* * *

Tony Stark was jarred from the slumber he drifted into by a harsh female voice.

"Hey! Wake up! It's fixed."

Before him, lay the microwave. Plugged in and functioning. It wasn't pretty, by any means. There were bits of metal sticking out here and there that would probably be dangerous if the appliance were ever used again, but it was working. Tony was speechless.

"To start with at my new job that you're giving me, I'd like some new gloves. This thing ruined mine." Bryn was smiling down at him. "When do I start?"

Tony looked up at her.

"Immediately. I want you around when Spangles decides to break something else."

"...Who?"

"Don't worry. You'll meet him." Stark grabbed some paperwork from his desk. "I already ran a very intensive background check on you, and you cleared it somehow. I'm going to need you to sign a shitload of paperwork and sign your life away."

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Just give me my hours so I can go home and go the fuck to sleep."

The designer of the Ironman suit smiled. He was going to enjoy having this one around.


	4. Chapter 4: Break

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, its characters, or its content. I am not making any money off of this story or its chapters, nor do I intend to.

* * *

Chapter 4: Break

Bryn had settled into a routine by the third week of working in Stark's tower. She would go in at 5:00 AM and do a quick scan of everything maintenance-wise from the top of the tower to the bottom. If everything checked out okay, and it most often did, she would begin working on the projects Mr. Stark had set out for her. Many of them simply involved wiring, soldering, cleaning up, or checking small components to the bigger things Tony happened to be working on; in other words, the tedious stuff he didn't have time for. It was a peaceful job that thankfully paid well, and Bryn was finally back on top of her bills. One more payment, in fact, would pay off all her student loans and she would be out of debt completely. It was something she had been looking forward to for a long time.

There was, as there always is with any line of work, one annoyance that kept popping up during the day. The annoyance, at 6'2 and 220 pounds, was one Captain Steve Rogers. Bryn didn't dislike the man. He was very kind and polite to her, even going so far as to call her _Ma'am_, which she instantly and firmly told him not to do. The problem? He broke stuff. A lot. And it wasn't really his fault that he didn't know how to use the stuff, but it made a lot of extra work for Bryn. Work that she had to complete because Tony said so. And she wasn't stupid enough to argue with Ironman, seeing as he signed her very generous paycheck every week. So the woman usually just sighed, took the mangled appliance out of the Captain's hands, and set about making it work again.

Tony went into a raving fit when he broke his cell phone because, as he put it, "They're super fucking cheap! I'll buy you a new one, Capsicle! Just let me throw it away! Stop torturing my assistant with this bullcrap!". But Steve didn't want to throw it away; that would be a waste. He was born in the era of the Great Depression, and you simply did not waste things or throw them away back then. Bryn fixed it. She fixed it twice, actually. The second time she went out and bought him an Otterbox case and gave it to him. The man, who was much larger than she was and about 1000 times stronger, went red in the face, sputtered, and demanded he pay her back. She refused, grabbed his hand in a very forceful manner, put the case in it, and walked away, leaving Captain America a nervous, flustered wreck in the hallway, staring down at his hand. Clint was giggling up in the rafters somewhere, he was sure of it.

Other than the Star Spangled Man's uncanny habit of ruining the finest modern technology had to offer, the woman loved her job. She didn't particularly mind working with the Avengers either. Clint was friendly, as was Natasha, and she felt herself sympathizing with their need to be left to their own devices. Friendly as she could be, Bryn wasn't much of a people person either. Thor was...sweet, simply put. Always offering to share his Pop Tarts, which she always politely declined, carrying heavy objects for her when he caught her doing it herself, and all in all just being a nice fellow to be around. He even visited her for no apparent reason during her shift. Tony was a smartass and could be a dick in a _playful_ sort of way. He kept himself confined to his lab most of the time and had little complaints about her work, so they got along okay. Bruce Banner was unexpectedly calm. He too kept to himself a majority of the time. She had only seen him get really angry once and had pulled herself into a small alcove in the wall just in time to avoid getting trampled. Bryn didn't really hold that one against him; Tony and Steve were arguing and both being asses to each other that day. It would've pissed anyone in earshot off, to be honest. Fury had stopped by once to debrief her and get her to sign a shitload of paperwork, again. And fingerprinted her, again. And took a blood sample. Again. She wasn't incredibly fond of him after that, but he didn't do anything awful to her, so she let it slide without giving him a piece of her mind.

Bryn met Pepper a couple of times and even had lunch with her. She thought the other woman polite, practical, and quite intelligent; she was good company. She did, however, think Pepper was quite possibly insane for putting up with some of Tony's shenanigans, but kept her mouth shut. It wasn't any of her business. The entire team, as a whole, was starting to grow on her. It made her a tad uncomfortable to get attached to others, but she'd have to grin and bear it for the sake of her job.

* * *

It was 4:35 PM when the young woman entered the gym. Some of the panels in the opposite wall had been dented the day before and Bryn was taking measurements to order new, sturdier ones for that section. She muttered a silent "_Thanks a lot_" to Thor for this little job. That damned hammer of his...She didn't notice the Captain hitting the punching bag, so it was an unpleasant surprise when it flew off the chain and managed to clip her left leg, sending her to the ground with far too much force.

Steve was at her side in a second, lifting the bag off her and apologizing profusely. He had one hand under her back as he pulled her into a sitting position. She turned to glare at him, her dark eyes hiding none of her anger.

"What the fuck, Steve?" She growled.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! I-I didn't even see you there! Are you okay?" He stammered, looking more worried by the minute. "I didn't even hear you come in!"

"No. No I am not okay. My leg hurts like hell." Bryn shifted in his grip and brought her hand to her face. Her lip was bleeding from the fall; she nicked it with one of her canines. She pulled out her phone, wincing. Her head hurt terribly. "I'll call Dr. Banner. Have him page a medic or something. It's probably nothing; just hurts. Bruised it, I think."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Yeah. There is." Bryn paused, and pulled at his shirt. "Come closer."

Steve leaned in, not knowing what to expect. Bryn took a deep breath, punched him square in the jaw at an awkward angle, and passed out seconds later.

"I probably deserved that one." Steve winced.

Cap, now gritting his teeth due to his sore jaw, lifted the smaller woman and ran with her to Bruce's lab. He was going to get his ass chewed out when Tony found out about this…

* * *

As expected, Tony Stark was livid. The first words out of his mouth were the same ones that Bryn had spoken earlier upon seeing him.

"What the fuck, Steve?!" Tony raged. "You mean to tell me that with all your super-sensitive, super-soldier, bottled bullshit that you didn't hear her walk in? The gym doors are not small!"

"I zoned out! I'm sorry!" Steve yelled back. "I never meant to hurt her! You know I'd never hit a woman!"

"She has health insurance, but this is going to be very expensive if it's serious. She's probably terrified! What if she sues us? Did you ever think about that?! _'Captain America hospitalizes woman!'_ That'll look awesome in the headlines!" Stark was glaring at him. "And why you have to destroy a punching bag every other day is beyond even me. You know she's in charge of maintenance, right? She has to fix that all the time too! Whenever you break something, she has to fix it if Jarvis can't! You mess with her job every day and now you break her leg!"

Bruce came in and interrupted their screaming match before it could escalate.

"She's going to be fine. She was far enough away from the bag, so it didn't break anything. Bruised her quite a bit, though. She suffered a concussion after she hit her head during the fall, but she'll recover. I'm going to have SHIELD's medic look after her for the night since he's already here." He paused. "She seemed to have bruised her knuckles too, but I'm not sure how she managed that one."

"She punched me in the jaw." Steve muttered.

"You deserved it. She should've hit you twice. In fact, I'm sorry she didn't break your jaw." Tony said flatly. "I'll go check up on her. Bring her some flowers and something expensive. Does she even like flowers? Screw it, every woman likes flowers. That was a stupid question. I'll get Pepper to go buy her something cute."

Tony took off muttering to himself. Steve looked at Bruce with the most ashamed expression the scientist had even seen on the man's face.

"Don't worry about it too much. Bryn's going to be fine. She even woke up to curse at all of us and call us some very colorful names. She'll be back to work in a few days, I'm sure, as soon as she feels up to it."

* * *

Bryn woke slowly to see Pepper and Tony at her bedside. There were flowers on the stand next to her, a small bag that she couldn't see the contents of, and a box of Pop Tarts. Thor had apparently heard as well.

"Hey, boss." Bryn smirked, then flinched. "I'm fine. I'll be back to work tomorrow."

"No, no you will not. You're taking the day off. In fact, you're taking the rest of the week off to rest up." Tony shook his head. "I'd like to apologize on behalf of the idiot that hit you."

"Eh, it was an accident. I already hit him back. I know he didn't mean it. I hope he doesn't beat himself up too much over this." She shook her head. "He's not a bad guy, you know. He's just...out of place. Needs some help. Think it's hard to be 70 years behind everyone else. How would you feel if you couldn't even microwave noodles? It's a wonder he doesn't starve to death. Does he have anyone to show him all this stuff?"

Pepper smiled. "You just get some sleep. Thor came in to check on you earlier. He left a snack, but had to go back to Asgard. He said he'll stop by tomorrow. When I see Steve, I'll tell him you're alright."

Bryn laughed and drifted off. She couldn't remember the last time someone gave a damn about her well-being. It had been years...True, they were technically the people she worked for, but it made her feel better to know that people at least checked on her.

* * *

Captain Rogers didn't have the heart to venture out of his room the next day. He just stayed holed up, sketching and listening to music, feeling a mix of guilt and helplessness.

_'Why?'_ He thought to himself._ 'Why do I always have to screw things up? I can't do anything right here. I'm more of a hindrance than a help. I can't even make food in the morning without breaking the kitchen at least twice a week.'_

The more he thought about it, the more he wished he had perished in that crash. At least he'd be in his own time and not treading water in a world he knew nothing about. Nothing was familiar here; Tony was nothing like his father had been to him. Howard was friendly to him, and more than happy to help with anything the Captain needed; his son hated him for reasons he knew nothing about and it killed him a little inside with every harsh word and accusation sent his way. The one person that talked to him on a regular basis, whom was actually pleasant to him, he'd just hospitalized.

He was finally getting used to Bryn; she was constantly around and he looked forward to seeing her, even if it was just to hand her something broken. She never seemed mad at him for it; just shook her head and fixed it, then handed it back to him a couple hours later with a smile. He still had the phone case she had gotten him; his phone was still intact and had been ever since he put the case on it. Now though, she probably didn't want to be around him at all. His knack for breaking things, it seemed, extended to the very people he wanted to get closer to. Sitting in his quarters, the man out of time had felt more alone than he had in months.


	5. Chapter 5: Rugged

Being rugged enough to handle some roughhousing was, and always had been, a typical Mercier quality. Several generations of family members being rude and downright nasty to each other resulted in many fights, many of which Bryn was on the unfortunate receiving end of. Smaller than both her older brother and father, she was typically unable to defend herself against the two large men. It didn't help that the two of them were dedicated alcoholics, with no interest in raising a young girl. Every wound inflicted, every harsh word spoken had left scars on both the inside and outside. Each scar scabbed over to become a story; a story that would simply read as I survived and I am stronger because of it. Her childhood with her dysfunctional family left Bryn a tough woman on the outside; someone with zero tolerance for nonsense as an adult.

When Bryn was hit by the hefty punching bag Steve Rogers was beating with plenty of his might, her first thought was simply "Man, that's going to hurt like hell tomorrow", followed by "I'll probably be out of work for a bit". She didn't point fingers or get incredibly hostile, though it did take her by surprise and she was startled enough to at least give Steve a good swat in the jaw for it. It was an accident and she understood that. Next time she entered the gym, she'd be sure to pay attention to her surroundings a bit better. Sitting in her chair at home, beer in hand, she winced a bit as she thought about what her thigh looked like. It had, indeed, hurt like hell the next morning. When she finally got over her concussion and the resulting confusion, she insisted on going home to recover for the remainder of the week. It had taken an hour of arguing with her boss and Thor to get them to let her walk on her own; something she was perfectly capable of doing. In the end, Thor walked her home and insisted upon carrying her up the stairs to her apartment. Her nosy downstairs neighbor, a wise-assed elderly woman by the name of Stella Krauss, stood in her doorway shaking her head and chuckling to herself.

"That's one fine looking man you've got there, Bryn! Come over for coffee later and tell me all about him! Does he have any brothers?" The senior citizen wolf whistled as they passed by.

Bryn snorted with laughter when she thought about the look on Thor's face following that little spell. She reassured him that Stella hadn't meant anything bad by it, no, the elderly woman was not asking about Loki, and told him once again that she'd be fine on her own for a few days.

Pulling herself out of the armchair and discarding the empty bottle, Bryn walked over to her desk to go over a list of parts she needed for some work on the tower, mainly the gym and the laundry area. If she was just going to sit around, she'd make herself useful somehow in the process.

* * *

Tony Stark sat in his lab, working on a few modifications for the Ironman suit. He was deep in thought, lost in memories of a time since passed. Try as he might, he was never able to get over his spite toward Steve Rogers. Was the man in a tough spot? Yes. Was he a valuable member of the team? Yes. But it didn't change the fact that he was still living in the past with little inclination toward immersing himself in the future; a past that he constantly brought up and threw in Tony's face all the time.

Howard Stark, Tony's father, was the genius that started it all; he was absolutely brilliant and the things he could do were incredible. His love for science was passed onto his son, who chose to use his knowledge to help others. His love for his son, however, was almost nonexistent. Howard may have been a great man previously; he might have been the caring guy Steve had talked about repeatedly. All that came to a screeching halt at some point during the inventor's life; the loss of Captain America changed him in ways his son couldn't even begin to understand.

Howard was obsessed with finding out what had happened to the fallen Captain; his entire life from that point onward seemed solely focused on recreating the serum and trying to locate the fallen soldier. His pain over the situation never fully went away. Tony could recall numerous occasions in which he tried to capture his father's attention, all of which ended in failure; he could never live up to his father's first creation. Tony dropped the two shards of metal he was welding and rested his head in his hands as another memory assaulted his mind.

* * *

_A young six year old boy tiptoed down to his father's laboratory in the middle of the night. It was 3:16 AM, and much too late for him to still be awake, but he continued onward anyway. Careful not to wake his mother who had finally gone to sleep, he slid quietly through the doorway and slipped over to his father's workbench, where Howard sat tinkering with something, deep in thought._

_"Dad?" The small boy inquired quietly._

_"What, Tony? You shouldn't be awake at this hour. Unless it's important, go back to bed." Howard didn't even look at his son._

_Tony held up the small object in his shaking hands, arms stretched as far as they could reach toward the older man._

_"I wanted to show you my robot, Dad."_

_"Does it work?"_

_"No...not yet. Can you help me finish it? Please?"_

_"Why would I want to see a machine that doesn't work? And how many times have I had to tell you not to come bother me with nonsense while I'm working?" Howard's voice rose in volume._

_Tony shrank away from his father as he began to yell, tears welling up in his small brown eyes._

_"I just wanted to spend time with you...I wanted to learn how to build things to help people...I want to be a hero, like Captain America, Dad."_

_"Get out of my sight." Howard's voice was dangerously low, much like it always was when the Captain was brought up._

_"I'm sorry." Tony cried, backing toward the door._

_"You should be. Stop your sniveling! You think Captain America cried when he fought to save his comrades? He didn't. You're never going to be a hero like him, Tony. He was a great man. If you'd turned out more like him, I might be proud to call you my son."_

* * *

By the time the youngest Stark had returned to his room, he was consumed with sadness, tears falling down his face while his small form shook with sobs. His one-armed robot, affectionately named 'Cap', lay forgotten on his bed as he stared out the window, hoping things would change.

Over the years, Tony's admiration for the Captain he had heard countless stories about had slowly turned to resentment and later, hatred. He began to immerse himself in his studies, pushing as hard as he could to learn whatever was at his disposal. The one-armed robot he attempted to show his father that day eventually became Dummy; his creations only got better from there. When the Captain was found in the ice, Stark found himself wishing he had stayed buried; seeing Steve in person brought his horrible childhood back to him. He wanted him to lay frozen beneath the ice, along with all of the memories of his father.

Now, he was living here, in the Stark tower. Steve served as a reminder of the broken relationship with his father every waking day. Try as he might, he couldn't separate the two.

Big man, in a suit of armour… take that away, what are you?

It was a question he already asked himself every day. He didn't need someone who was once his hero speaking the same words that were already in his mind. Tony shook himself from his memory-induced stupor and turned his attention back to the task at hand, with more determination than he had started with.

* * *

Stella weaseled her way into Bryn's apartment again. Truth be told, she didn't mind the older woman's company much. Having a great sense of humor had helped the two neighbors form a bond. A weird, slightly inappropriate bond, but a bond nonetheless. Stella was in her kitchen making some fresh coffee after informing Bryn, loudly, that she should be ashamed of her excessive consumption of alcohol and limited caffeine intake.

"It helps he think, Stell. Loosens me up a bit so the ideas flow easier." Bryn was grinning as she finished the request forms and put them into envelopes. Stark would certainly be surprised to see them on his desk tomorrow morning.

"Psh, bullshit. Coffee helps you think. It gives you a little kick in the ass when ya need it most." Stella smiled. "Looks like you've been rather busy, my dear. How's your job going?"

"Oh, pretty well. Mr. Stark's actually alright to work for. He's a nice guy if you can get past his odd moments. The press isn't kidding when they say he's eccentric." Bryn gratefully took the coffee handed to her. "How about you? Anything new?"

"Well…" The old woman began, "I've been seeing someone for a bit now. Quite a looker. Think I might be ready to get serious."

"Really? Who's the lucky guy?"

"Oh, not a guy at all. She's the cute older one at the coffee shop down our street."

Bryn choked on her coffee a bit as Stella started laughing at her.

"Whatever makes you happy, Stella." She wheezed, trying to get rid of the residual beverage that went down the wrong pipe.

"Don't act all surprised!" Her neighbor smiled. "It's an act of charity, really! All those poor women out there, wanting for a man, and I'm giving up my share so they can have theirs!"

Both women broke into laughter. The day was looking up for the odd pair of friends as they continued with their unique conversations. Bryn began to wonder what the world would be like if everyone looked a little deeper past the surface of others and tried to get along with one another.

* * *

Steve Rogers started to venture out of his room later on that day. After cooking and eating with Thor, which turned out to be a mess that both men ended up cleaning between their laughter, the man was on his motorcycle riding through the city. The previous night he had ended up thinking, actually think this time, about adjusting to his new life, starting with learning more about the world he woke up in. Driving, or riding rather, he was fairly decent at. Using a basic phone, not the StarkPhone Tony had given him, was even becoming easier. Other things baffled him and he was finally ready to admit to someone other than Fury that he needed some help with that. Fury suggested they use someone who already had knowledge of the Avengers. It'd be easier than finding a person for the task, briefing them about the situation, and testing them to make sure they could actually handle the job. Steve, although he was still trying to figure out why he mentioned her name in the first place, asked if Bryn might be alright for that. Fury thought it over and in the end agreed. The woman was already familiar with everyone in the tower. She wasn't a security issue, and she appeared to be someone who wasn't easily shaken. She was also monitored by at least one S.H.I.E.L.D agent constantly to insure her safety, so her connection with Stark and the Avengers wasn't as much of a liability as a new agent would be.

"Your job is to see if she's willing to do it." Fury told him. "I'm too busy with a bunch of shit going on here and you made the request in the first place. You hit her with a punching bag too; I ain't going near her for a while. Don't think she likes me too much."

Parking his bike outside the apartment, he looked at the address to make sure it was correct and found himself doing a double take. Could she really be living here of all places? Working for Stark Industries had to pay enough for better accommodations, but he wasn't about to judge. Steve walked through the front door and made his way up the stairs. Stopping at Bryn's door, he raised his hand and knocked on the outside of it.

* * *

Stella and Bryn both looked up from the news to look at the door. Stella stopped her neighbor from getting out of her chair.

"I'll get it. You stay put. You shouldn't be on that leg anyway, you stubborn mule."

Stella walked to the door, hand at her side, barely touching the handgun concealed under her robe. She opened the door slowly to see a tall, blonde-haired man standing there.

"Can I help you, young man?"

"Hello, ma'am. I'm looking for Bryn Mercier. Do I have the wrong address?" Steve said politely.

"Who's asking?" Stella wasn't buying his polite attitude.

"Steve Rogers, ma'am."

Stella turned around to look at Bryn and yelled back to her.

"Hey sweetcheeks, you know a 'Steve Rogers' or do we have some weirdo outside the door?"

"Let him in, Stella." Bryn laughed. "He's alright."

Stella eyed the man suspiciously, then smiled and opened the door.

"Just messing with you, babe. Come on in."

Steve walked slowly past the elderly woman and into the apartment, spotting Bryn sitting at the table with what looked like a stack of papers next to a knitting project.

"First the long haired one, now this hottie. Sure have been busy, honey." You could hear the smile in Stella's voice as she put on more coffee. Steve's whole face went red.

"It's not like that, Stella." Bryn said, exasperated. "This is a friend of mine who I see at work a lot. The one from the gym, to be precise."

"Oh!" The old lady rounded on the Captain, coffee spoon in hand. "So you're the brute who got too excited and bruised my little lady!"

Droplets of coffee flew from the spoon and landed on Steve's face as he took a step back.

"No harm intended, ma'am. It was an accident and I'm very sorry that it happened."

"You should still be more careful. Ladies are delicate creatures; be mindful of their whereabouts when you're screwing around with the heavy stuff." Stella huffed and went back to making more coffee. "I don't suppose you'd like a cup of coffee, would you, Steve?"

"No thank you, ma'am-" Steve began, but Bryn cut him off.

"Take the coffee. She'll force it on you if you don't. She's very persistent." She laughed. "And you can come sit down. My furniture isn't going to bite your ass or anything."

Steve accepted the cup of coffee Stella had so-lovingly prepared and took a seat near Bryn.

"I have to go down to my apartment for a bit, Bryn. Gotta check on that damn cat. I'll probably be back up later though. Give me a holler if this guy tries anything funny."

With that, Stella wandered back down to her own home, leaving Bryn and Steve alone upstairs.

"So…" Bryn started, "What brings you here today?"

"I wanted to apologize, first off. I'm really sorry about what happened in the gym and if there's any way I can make it up to you, please tell me." The blond seemed nervous as he looked at the woman in front of him.

"No harm done. Honestly, I've been through worse. You don't need to make it up to me; I'll start paying more attention to what's going on around me from now on." She smirked. "I live in a building full of superheroes. I should watch where I'm going. I mean, what if I run into IronMan or Bruce next time?"

The Captain smiled at her, feeling like a great weight was lifted from his shoulders. She didn't look or sound angry and all was going well. He still felt awful, but nothing compared to how horrible he'd felt immediately after it had happened.

"Bryn, could I ask you something?"

"Depends on what it is. Do I have to call Stella back up here?"

"No." Steve flinched. "Nothing like that at all."

"Go ahead then."

"I was wondering…" He paused, "If you'd be willing to teach me about how things are nowadays. I've been wearing out my shoe leather trying to pick things up traveling around the city...but I'm not very good at learning some things by just watching them."

"You need help adjusting to the 21st century. Am I right?" Bryn thought it over for a second. "As long as it doesn't interfere with my job, I'd be alright with that. I don't have much going on outside of work as it is, and if I stay home too much, Stella's going to start setting me up with people again. That never ends well. Would you be okay with working around my schedule, Cap? I can't lose this job. Mr. Stark has been very good to me in terms of work and I need the money."

"Sounds swell! Thank you very much, miss!"

Bryn laughed and firmly shook his hand. Steve looked a little surprised at her grip.

"I have a bit of a request myself, before you get too eager." She looked directly into his eyes. "I used to take kickboxing and I loved it. I'm out of shape now, from slacking off on my exercise a bit too much. I'd like to work out a bit and I'm not very motivated by myself; think you could teach me a few things?"

"I wouldn't want you to get hurt…"

"Be careful with me, then. I'm not glass, Steve. The only reason you knocked me out of commission was because of that concussion. If I hadn't hit my head, I'd still be up and working. I'm going back tomorrow, by the way. I'm not going to be out of work for another day; sitting here is driving me crazy."

"Stark will have a fit."

"Stark can bite my glorious golden ass! I'm an adult; I'll do as I please." Bryn grinned. "So I'll see you tomorrow at some point, I think. I should be done with the regular maintenance at about 3:00. If nothing comes up when I'm running diagnostics on everything, I should get out around 3:30. If you don't have anything to do, I'd be okay with answering some of your questions."

"Alright, I'll see you after work!" Steve got up off the comfortable chair and turned to the woman still seated. "If you need any help tomorrow, just ask, okay? Don't be stubborn."

"Hah, alright. Sure. I'll tell you if I need anything."

The Captain said his goodbyes and walked out of the apartment, leaving Bryn to the rest of the things she decided to work on that night. The woman found herself still smiling about their conversation. For a man who was entirely too polite for his own good, he wasn't all that bad.


End file.

Avengers, Friendship, Humor