Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

***

Hydra. This had to be Hydra.

His mind churned with possibilities as he scanned the room, and it all boiled down to one decision.

Run.

Fight.

And keep running until he was sure it was safe. The fake nurse’s voice rang in his ears, and he couldn’t believe they’d been so stupid to think flimsy walls would hold him. His clothes felt wrong, but his body still understood how to fight and run while his mind struggled to make sense of it all.

Sights and sounds assaulted him, and he stared up at the impossible lights, drew a deep breath, caught between fight and flight. For what felt like the first time in his life, he was truly scared. Afraid. His pulse pounded in his ears, and he reached desperately for any solution. When it unfurled inside of him, he grabbed hold.

“Holy shit!”

“Don’t fire! Stand down! Captain Rogers!”

It rushed over him, and Steve felt his fear ramp to a new level. He’d seen soldiers so terrified they couldn’t move. They just stood there until someone shot them. He’d also seen them throw down their guns and run like the devil himself was nipping at their heels.

Steve bolted, jumped over cars, skidded around corners, and threw his body into the idea of escaping it all.

***

“Stop!”

Happy slammed on the brakes, and Tony shoved open the back door of the limo and took off into the crowded sidewalk.

“Boss! The door!”

But Tony was long gone, and Happy couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling. If he had to guess, he’d guess the boss had seen his favorite deli and made a break for it. Carefully, Happy pulled in front of the closest alley and stopped to wait. He was out of the way, sorta, and that alley wasn’t big enough for thru traffic.

The door was still open, and he groaned, unsnapping his seat belt. It could be minutes before Tony was back, or six hours. There was no telling.

Something slammed into the back seat, making the entire car rock, and Happy turned to yell at whatever homeless person had jumped in his limo. His heart about stopped, and not moving anything other than his finger, he raised the partition.

***

Pepper was already going to kill him, but he’d called in the order ahead of time, so really, it wasn’t his fault. And he was sprinting, which he could complain about to her. Bag of sandwiches in hand, he made it back to the limo in record time, jumping in the door and slamming it behind him.

“Drive!”

The limo took off in a lurch, Happy was shouting about something ridiculous on the intercom, and… time seemed to slow way down when a very large… something… shoved its enormous head in his lap.

“Hello?” Tony kept a death grip on the sandwiches, raising his arms. “Happy? Did I buy a lion thing?”

“No!” And Happy was going off again, and Tony looked into the lion’s impossibly blue eyes. “Did I go to the circus without knowing it, or are you hiding in my limo?”

The low grumble of a growl wasn’t much of an answer. The thing burrowed further into Tony’s lap and huffed out an enormous breath. Tony was sure of two things: he was sharing his sandwiches and Pepper really was going to murder him, probably in his sleep.

***

Steve didn’t even know what he was doing, everything was simultaneously in sharp focus and a blur. Jumping in the limo had been an instinctual need to hide, but once he’d smelled it, he’d known he was in the right place. He tried to curl up small, but parts kept sticking out, and he had no idea what to do with his tail.

Burying his face in Howard Stark’s lap wasn’t part of the plan, and slowly, as he breathed, he realized this wasn’t Howard, and sense of pure humiliation poured over him. He pushed deeper into the lap and tried to think. Thinking was hard. Somehow, his body was very wrong, and Howard would have the answers, but this wasn’t Howard, and he could smell sandwiches, and he was so very hungry.

He tried to make a small sound, and it came out a roar, and he flinched back from himself, away from the man, mortified at what he’d become. This, sure as bullshit, hadn’t been in the debriefing packet from Dr. Erskine.

“It’s okay.” The man – he really did look like Howard – still had his hands up, sandwich bag dangling. “I won’t turn you in to the police, just relax.”

The words didn’t make sense for a minute, and then it crashed into Steve that he was… illegal. They, someone, were after him. He started to pant, considering jumping out of the limo, if he could work the lever.

“Happy, go in the underground garage, make it snappy. Don’t alert security and get upstairs as fast as you can.”

So much information made Steve hide his face in the wheel well, and he could only pray this would be over soon.

“Not leaving you, boss.”

“Yes, you are, because you’re going to open all the doors that lead to my shop and lock all the others. Basement shop, you know the one.”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

The limo picked up speed, and then they were going down a ramp, and Steve had to get a grip on himself. He risked a look up, and the man put a sandwich on the seat. “Eat. Your stomach is growling. At least, I hope it’s your stomach.”

Somewhere between not meaning to and being ashamed, Steve ate it in two bites. And the next one, as well, and he was still hungry.

“Lay in the steaks when we get there, Happy.”

“Good idea, before he starts on people!”

***

Careful of the remaining sandwiches, Tony dug his phone out of his pocket and quickly reviewed the laws covering Felines in the United States while Happy was parking the limo. There was no way in hell that he was turning this big guy over to be beaten, euthanized, or even sold to the highest bidder. Oh, hell, no.

Happy slammed the door and ran for the stairwell, and Tony used the wait time to eat some chips. “These sandwiches are the best in New York. You can thank me later.”

The lion, if it was a lion, tilted his head and tried to crunch himself lower. Tony shot a quick text off to Pepper and ignored the hateful one he received in return. “Okay, so… we’re going to my shop. It’s safe there. No one will hurt you, I promise.” He tucked his phone away. “We can go slow, no rush, just a hallway or two.”

No reply, of any sort, not even a growl, and Tony opened the door to get out quickly, just in case the lion tried to trample him. The big lug didn’t even move an inch. Getting far out of the way, Tony managed to wait several minutes. Or seconds, whatever, but he had things to do.

“Whenever you’re ready. Do you have a name? Can I call you Champ or something ridiculous like that? Do you know what you are? You sorta look like a lion, but bigger. Man, much bigger than the ones at the zoo. I bought a zoo once. Not sure I still own it. I should ask Pepper.”

The lion shook his head so hard his ears flopped back and forth. He took a tentative step.

“Come on, I’ll get you a beer, or a big bowl of water, or something.” Tony wasn’t sure lions liked beer. His mind twirled with all the problems that were going to result from this decision, but he was going forwards, not backwards. “It’s okay.”

His phone rang, and he sighed, but he answered it. “I’m in the middle of something, Pepper.”

“Death is too good for you.”

“Probably.” Tony kept his eyes on the lion. “You know I don’t care what the tile looks like in the bathrooms. My shops are done. Do what you want with the rest of the tower.”

The silence on the phone made him sigh. She snapped, “Lime green it is.” And she hung up. Tony laughed and met the eyes of the lion. “Women are hard to please. Of course, she’d say I don’t try very hard. She’s probably right.”

The lion dashed from the limo, stood up very tall and turned in every direction twice. Tony started for the door. “Come on. There’s no booze down here.” Which wasn’t entirely true, but the lion waited a long second and then started trotting after him.

Huge took on an entire new meaning, and Tony could’ve touched the lion’s forehead without reaching downwards. Just. Huge. If he crapped on the carpet, Pepper would die. Tony grinned and didn’t slow down.

***

Faced with the idea of staying in the limo forever, Steve decided to chance his future on this man. There’d been mention of steaks, and honestly, nothing had made sense from the moment he’d woken up, but there had to be some answers here.

Maybe this man knew Howard, or Peggy, or something that could help. He followed, and getting all four legs to work together was much easier this time. His tail was still a problem, but he was getting the hang of it by the time they went through a set of double doors. Steve was cautious, but he couldn’t smell anyone, just machinery.

“Welcome to my slice of heaven in Manhattan! Wake up, Jarvis, Daddy’s home!”

Steve crept inside and tried to look everywhere at once. Besides a few bits of furniture, there were a lot of work stations, but nothing that Steve recognized. This guy might not be Howard Stark, but he had to be related.

“Sir, may I enquire as to your new friend?”

Dropping to his belly, Steve slunk behind a sofa and crouched down.

“I picked him up at the deli. He ate two sandwiches!” The man sounded impressed. “Did Happy put in an order for some steaks?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll have them delivered to your shop directly.” The voice was coming from several speakers in different locations, and Steve didn’t understand what was happening. The voice said, “Have you considered notifying the authorities? Your friend is most likely a Feline.”

“Absolutely not.” The man, Sir, seemed adamant about that, which was a relief. “Do not, and make sure no one knows he’s here.”

“I’ll initiate proper protocols.” There was a long pause, and Steve peeked over the sofa to check on the man’s location. He was taking off his coat, pouring a whiskey, and instantly looked at him.

“Water?”

Steve ducked back down, but he heard cabinets opening and a bowl being filled. He tried to look casual as he went for it.

“You could probably drink from the sink without reaching.” The man smiled. “Food is coming. Still hungry?”

Water dripping from his lips, Steve looked up and carefully nodded.

“Ah, the wonder of communication.” The man sipped his whiskey. “Where’d you escape from? The clutches of evil?”

Another long drink while Steve thought about it. He didn’t actually know, but he wasn’t going back without a fight.

“Sir, your new friend is not an African lion. He’s an American Lion – panther leo atrox.” The ceiling again. “This variety of lion lived in North America and went extinct approximately twelve thousand years ago.”

“Holy shit.” The man found a chair and plunked down. In that moment, there was a knock on the door, and Steve went to hide. He had no idea what an American Lion was, or how he became one, but he sincerely hoped there was a way to get rid of it.

“Steaks!” It was the limo driver from earlier, and Steve relaxed a little. He leaned around the side of a table and moved fast, hunger driving him.

“Whoa! He can move!”

“Don’t put your hand down there, Happy, if you like having two of them.”

“Sir, again, perhaps we should call the authorities.”

“No, Jarvis. Finders, keepers.”

Steve shoved his mouth full and didn’t bother chewing all that much since there were no bones. When the plate was empty, he licked it clean. Stomach satisfied, he sat up and let out a roar. He desperately needed to be Human again, and something rolled over him, and he was on two feet. He fell to the floor, gasping for air, not understanding any of this.

“Feline-ness confirmed.”

Scrambling up to his butt, Steve stared about wildly. “Who are you?”

“Tony Stark.” The guy put his hands in his pockets. “You?”

“Captain Steve Rogers.” Steve managed to get to his feet, only swaying a little. “Are you Howard’s brother? I really need to talk to him.” And he needed clothes, having shredded the clothing he’d woken up in during his dash for freedom.

Stark stared at him for several long seconds, face growing pale, and slowly, he sank down to sitting on the sofa. “What. The. Hell.”

It wasn’t a question. Steve put his hands over his privates. “And some clothes?”

“Happy, get the man some clothes, would you?”

“Sure, boss.” Happy smiled. “And nice to meet ya.”

“You, too.” Steve tried and achieved a pained smile. Happy shut the door behind him, and Stark was just staring at him, head slightly tilted. Steve swallowed and tried again, “You okay, Stark?”

“Tell me everything.” Stark leaned forward and slugged his drink dry. “From the beginning.”

Trusting him didn’t come easy, but he was a Stark, and Steve realize his sense of smell was incredible. He could smell Stark’s shock, surprise, and curiosity. Still, he hesitated.

“Not from the real beginning. After the whole crashing the plane in the ocean thing.” Stark made a quick hand gesture. “Shield found you, didn’t they? In the ice? I’ve been funding that expedition for years. I can’t believe they didn’t call.”

Now, Stark smelled a trifle indignant. Steve rubbed his nose. If Stark knew about the plane, then it might be okay to talk to him. “I woke up in this bedroom. There was a baseball game on the radio, but it was a game I’d already seen, and the nurse, she was all wrong. So, I jumped through a wall--.”

“The wall?”

“Yes.” Steve took a breath. “And ran, and then I fought some guys dressed in black, and then I ran into the city, but nothing looked right, too many signs and lights. Cars surrounded me, and this Negro with a patch over his eye--.”

“Okay, stop.” Stark put up his hand. “That was Nick Fury, head of SHIELD, a real son-of-a-bitch.”

“I thought he was Hydra – all the black.” Steve didn’t know what SHIELD was, and it didn’t seem important right now. “I, just, panicked and suddenly I was on four legs, and I jumped a car, and ran, and...” He spread his hands. “Here I am.”

Stark rubbed his face. “Breathe, Steve. Can I call you Steve?”

“It’s my name.” Steve took several deep breaths, feeling like he might pass out. The door opened, and Happy was back with a handful of clothes. Steve took them gratefully and dressed in a flash. He felt so much better when he was covered, even if the fabrics felt strange on his body. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Need anything, boss?” Happy seemed like a good guy. Steve liked him.

“Don’t tell a soul, Happy, not even Pepper.” Stark went to refill his whiskey. “This level of crazy stays down here, for now.”

Steve started pacing, unable to help himself. “I am crazy. Is this real? Is this another dream?”

Another drink, and Stark shook his head. “Cap, this is real. SHIELD found you in the ice, and they must’ve defrosted you, somehow. Did Fury say anything?”

“Just to stand down, and I wasn’t going to do that.” Steve shook his head. He stopped in his tracks. “How long was I frozen?”

Stark finished his drink, stared down into it for a second, then said, “Seventy years, give or take a few.”

“Shit.” Steve’s legs refused to hold him, and he collapsed down into a random chair. “I had a date, damn it.”

“Howard is, well, was my father,” Stark said in a quiet voice. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

Finding words was impossible. He tried to breathe. Throwing back his head, he gave in to the deep sorrow raging inside him, and Switched. He shredded the clothes and roared his anger and confusion.

“Yeah, I bet that’s how you feel.” Stark rubbed his eyes. Steve went to find the darkest corner, furthest away from the door. Curling up, he was glad that lions couldn’t cry.

***

“Shit, Jarvis. Shit!” Tony scooped up the rags and threw them at the nearest trash can. “Did anyone know Captain America was a Feline?”

“There is no record of that, however, the serum used has never been quantified.” Jarvis knew everything. “The blood samples taken from him were never tested for the Feline DNA because the technology didn’t exist.”

“And no samples exist today.” Tony thought about that. “I bet SHIELD took a few while they were defrosting him.”

“The likelihood of that is high. However, there are a number of Humans with Feline markers who never present, or Switch as they say.”

“There’s probably a trigger, and Steve never flicked it until today.” Tony cast a look in the direction the big cat had gone. “He’s Captain America. I can’t call him Steve.”

“It is his name.”

“Please don’t be reasonable.” Tony went to his favorite computer, cracked his knuckles, and started doing what he did best, finding solutions. “Jarvis, let’s start with surveillance cameras.”

***

Chapter Text

***

“Where the hell is Captain America?” Fury shouted at them all, knowing they didn’t have an answer.

Coulson actually flinched around the eyes. He was the highest-ranking agent in the room, so he answered, “Unknown. We tracked him on surveillance, but when he started using alleyways and rooftops, well, we lost him.”

“Did you have even an inkling that he was a goddamn Feline?” Fury speared Coulson with a look. The man knew more about Captain America than anyone on the planet.

The room managed to grow even quieter. Coulson met Fury’s gaze, face calm as usual, which was damn infuriating. “There were always whispers that the formula had Feline in it, but since he never Switched during the war, it was assumed that he wouldn’t.”

“Well, they were fucking wrong.” Fury swept his eye over all of them. “Everyone out but Coulson.”

Coulson didn’t even fidget, and Fury waited until the room was clear before sitting down at the head of the conference table. “Everyone in Times Square saw him.”

“But the media doesn’t know it was Captain America.” Coulson shuffled a few files. “Experts are saying he’s some sort of throwback, perhaps a cave lion.”

“He was the biggest damn cat I ever saw.” Fury shook his head and sighed at the cluster fuck. “If we don’t find him, he’ll be shot, or euthanized, if they manage to catch him.”

Now Coulson had an expression on his face. He was furious. “I won’t allow that.”

Fury chuckled. “Good. Find him, Cheese.”

“I’m on it.” Coulson left without a look back. He’d do his best. Fury was calling in everyone on this one, even consultants, and that meant Stark, but it could wait until they were desperate. Stark always created problems, and the last thing Fury need right now was another problem.

***

Clint paced back and forth in Coulson’s office, not even considering the sofa. He didn’t deserve it. He’d screwed up. He’d lost Captain America’s scent in the garbage-filled alleyways of Manhattan. This was his fault.

The door opened, and he dropped to his belly. He deserved to be beaten.

“Clint.” Coulson set the files on his desk, sank into his chair, and patted his thigh. Clint crept to him and put his mangy head in Coulson’s lap. It was the best place in the world. Coulson leaned over him, stroking him. “It’s not your fault. You got farther than anyone else. We have a general search area because of you.”

Mewling, Clint buried his face in Coulson’s perfectly-pressed slacks.

“Stop.” Coulson rubbed him between the ears. “We have to find him. Director Fury is a wreck, and I’ve never seen that, not in all these years.”

Shocked, Clint Switched but he didn’t get up off his knees. “I’m so sorry.”

“We’ll find him.” Coulson gently nudged him back. “You’ve been Switching far too much, Agent Barton. I can see your ribs!”

“I’m always thin, Boss.” Clint shut his eyes and just breathed in the scent of him. “You’re not… going to sell me?”

Coulson didn’t answer, but he suddenly smelled very angry. Clint managed to get a little lower without leaving him. “Not an option, not ever. Damn it, Barton! You work here. You’re an agent of Shield. No one can sell you!”

“You could. I wouldn’t even complain. I screwed up. I know how important Captain America is to you.” Clint couldn’t even raise his head. He knew the truth. He worked at Shield, but if they wanted to sell him, they could.

“Not more important than you.” Coulson sounded firm on that point, rapping him on the head with his knuckles. “Now, you listen here, you mangy cheetah, we’re a team, and we’re going to find him.”

“Yes, sir.” Clint let himself believe. Coulson never lied to him. “I’ll do better.”

***

Chapter Text

***

Only the need to piss made Steve leave his hidey-hole, and he didn’t question his ability to follow a scent trail to the restroom. Once he was there, he just stared at the toilet. Not knowing quite what he was doing, he focused, and Switched back to his skin. This time, he didn’t fall down.

The bathroom was luxurious, with a big shower, lots of soaps, and extra clothes. He dressed one more time, promising himself that he wouldn’t shred these clothes, before padding out to where he could smell Stark.

Getting used to his nose was going to take a while. He could smell everything, and most of it wasn’t good. Stark was sitting near the steaks that kept Steve from going back to his corner.

“Oh, good. Eat.” Stark had his own steak.

Steve didn’t waste any time getting a knife and fork. “Thanks,” he muttered. His mother would be ashamed of his manners, but he couldn’t muster the effort.

“Sure.” Stark didn’t look at him, which was considerate. Steve felt like he might crumble to pieces. Stark nudged a square piece of glass at him. “This is a tablet. It will amaze you. You’re going to need to get caught up on all the history you’ve missed.”

“We won the war, right?” Steve was embarrassed that he hadn’t even thought to ask before now.

“Yes, and every historian agrees that your effort was instrumental in that fact.” Stark pushed some vegetables at him. “You don’t want to get gout.”

It was hard not to smile. He did slow down on the steak and take a few other choices. Concentrating on the food helped his blush go away. He had to read everything about the end of the war. He’d missed so much. They both heard a click at the door, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Two people besides myself have access to this shop. You can trust them both.” Stark popped the top on a bottle of beer and put it in front of him.

The door opened, and it wasn’t Happy. It was a redhead in a tight skirt and high heels. She looked angry, but it smoothed away when she saw him. It was impressive. She had an armful of papers, and she smiled very faintly before taking a seat. Steve could smell her perfume and her confusion. It made him want to sneeze.

“Mr. Stark,” she said. Her voice was tinged with a variety of strong emotions, and Steve could hear them and smell them. He wasn’t sure he liked knowing.

“Pepper Potts, this is Steve Rogers. He’s the reason I missed the meeting. He needed a bit of a rescue, and you know how I enjoy helping people.” Stark’s voice was barely tinged with sarcasm.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, rising slightly and extending her hand.

Now was the time for his manners, and Steve rose to shake her hand. “I apologize for the trouble. I was… lost.”

“Well, Tony loves a good reason to miss a meeting.” She shot Stark a tiny frown as they both sat down again. “I’m glad he was there to lend you a hand. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“You could let us eat,” Stark said around a mouthful of food. “In peace.”

Steve was both appalled and impressed. “I’m grateful for all of this.” He looked down, instantly embarrassed.

Miss Potts nodded. “I’m just glad Mr. Stark is having something for dinner besides scotch.”

And they were off, bickering at each other like an old, married couple, and Steve ate his food and watched the show. Stark ended up signing some papers for her, and she stole bites of his steak shamelessly, and Steve missed Peggy even more now.

Concentrating on his food, Steve plowed through another plateful. His appetite was far larger than usual, and he devoured three steaks before he thought about it. His body had changed again, and he didn’t understand how it was possible that he was a Feline now.

Of course, he’d met a few Felines in the war, and they were damn handy in a fight, but he’d never seen one in the States. Bucky never had either, or he’d have mentioned it. People just didn’t talk about them, except maybe in whispers. They existed, sure, but the government took care of them – Steve didn’t know how – and polite people didn’t discuss it.

Miss Potts got to her feet, and Steve mirrored her. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You are very polite. It’s appreciated.” She cast a sour look at Stark, who was nursing his whiskey. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

“Thank you, Miss Potts.” Stark sounded a trifle bored, but he smelled happy. When the door snicked close, he said, “She’s the CEO of Stark Industries, and how she puts up with me is one of the great mysteries of the universe.”

“Marry her quick.” Steve could only think of Peggy. He’d wasted time when he should’ve been putting a ring on her finger. He slowly sat back down and stared at his empty plate. “I suppose I’m full.”

“Felines require an enormous number of calories, Mr. Rogers. Please inform me any time you are hungry.” It was the ceiling again.

“Mr. Stark, who talks through the speakers?” Steve was very curious about it.

“That’s Jarvis. He’s what you’d call a computer, and he runs the place, keeps track of me. Great guy. If you need anything, ask. He’ll help you out.”

Steve furrowed his brow and on reflex took the square piece of glass that Stark handed him. Stark grinned. “Your first lesson is ready on your tablet. There’s a bedroom adjacent to the bathroom you used early. Please consider it yours for now, unless you prefer something else.”

“I have to hide, don’t I?” Steve needed to understand that first. “Felines are--.”

“Rounded up and kept collared,” Stark interrupted. “You have leverage in that you’re Captain America, but we need to get you up to speed first. The government will have the right to sell you, euthanize you, or keep you at their Feline center where they can experiment on you. My guess is the government will do exactly that.”

Words stuck in Steve’s throat. He’d known the United States wasn’t perfect, but he’d always believed in freedom, democracy, and the rule of law. “I should turn myself in.”

“If you want, but first, find out who and what you’re turning yourself in to. Trust me.” Stark tapped the tablet, as he’d called it. “Jarvis, lesson one.”

“Of course, sir.”

Stark got to his feet. “I have work to do. If you need anything, tell Jarvis to yell at me.”

“Thanks for dinner,” Steve said, wondering if he should clean up, but the glass was shining with words and images. He got to his feet when Stark did, and he decided to go find this bedroom. Jarvis helped him go right, instead of left, and Steve cautiously opened the door. It was large, comfortable, with a big bed, and he stretched out on it with the tablet close. “This is nice.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rogers. I chose the colors myself. Mr. Stark has never slept anywhere but the sofa.” Jarvis sounded slightly offended by that in his British accent.

“I knew Howard. Did you work for him, too?” Steve rolled to his stomach and put his chin in his hands to stare down at the tablet.

“We should begin at the beginning.”

And Steve nodded, starting to read.

***

Tony had a million things to do, but it was hard to concentrate with a huge lion somewhere in his shop. The big lug could be pooping, or eating a chair. “Jarvis, how is our guest?”

“Progressing quickly, sir. He is enraptured with the Equal Rights Movement as we speak.”

“Let’s not forget to feed him. I don’t want him eating one of my cars or something.” Tony moved to a different work station to check on the bots in California. “He can’t stay down here forever.”

“He is gaining control over himself. I predict he will grow restless very quickly.”

“And you’re rarely wrong.” Tony rubbed a hand down his face. The armor was in good shape, but he had a few ideas he wanted to explore. Helping Captain America was going to slow him down, but his dad would want him to do it. All that money and time he’d invested, and Shield hadn’t even shared the good news. “Jarvis, I’m peeved at Shield.”

“With good reason. They are continuing their search for the captain.” Jarvis put a few surveillances feeds up. “Block by block in a search pattern that suggests Stark Tower may have visitors soon.”

Watching them on surveillance cameras for several minutes, Tony saw they were efficient, led by an agent that he knew well enough to make him groan. “Agent Coulson.”

“He is very thorough.”

“They’re not going to stop.” Tony leaned back in his chair and thought it over. “We just need some time for Steve to understand his choices. Jarvis, get the plane ready. We’re going to California. Helicopter on the roof to the airfield, please.”

“Miss Potts won’t be pleased.”

“Is she ever?” Tony muttered, but he was going. He’d give Captain America a shot at freedom, and that meant getting away from Manhattan and Agent Coulson.

***

There were a thousand things to do in her job as CEO, but none of them were as important as keeping an eye on Tony. Trouble and Tony went hand-in-hand. She loved him enough not to actually strangle him, but some days it was very close.

This whole business with Steve Rogers was a case in point. If Stark Industries was harboring a criminal, she needed to know, and Googling the name Steve Rogers was ridiculous. There had to millions of men named… her fingers went through the motions anyway. The page instantly flipped up, and her mouth dropped open. She clicked on Images, just in case she was crazy, and there he was – the man eating at the table in Tony’s shop.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, Miss Potts?”

“How did Captain America get in Tony’s basement shop, and how did Captain America get to New York?” She had half a notion to call Agent Coulson – they were supposed to be friends – and give him a piece of her mind.

Her office door opened, and Happy stepped inside. “Jarvis said you needed to see me?”

“Sit. Spill it. Don’t leave anything out.” Pepper gave him the glare she’d perfected to make people do what she wanted. It worked on everyone but Tony. Happy gave her a sad look, but she didn’t want to hear it. “Agent Coulson is involved.”

“Shit.”

***

Chapter Text

***

The Shield van was two blocks up, and Coulson headed there. “Agent Barton, meet me at the van.”

“On my way.”

Coulson threw open the back door, but no one even flinched. “Give me the van, fellas.”

It didn’t take long before Coulson had his maps up, updating their search grid. Clint came in the front, carrying two sandwiches. “I’m glad you got something to eat, Agent Barton.”

Clint nodded, giving him the salami. “Before you ask, this will be my third.” He grabbed a couple of waters from the cooler under a bench and handed one to Coulson. “This just doesn’t make sense. It’s like he vanished into thin air!”

Taking a bite of his sandwich – best in New York – he forced his shoulders down, made his eyes unfocused, and schooled his mind to calm. Clint settled down next to him, concentrating on inhaling his sandwich. The silence was comfortable, and Coulson’s gaze drifted down the map to the alley where Clint had lost the scent.

“Someone picked him up.” Coulson was sure of it. “Right at the end of the alley.”

Getting to his feet, Clint nodded. “It hasn’t rained. I’ll grab a handler and try again.” And he was stripping so he could Switch. He muscled open the back door, backpack in his mouth.

Coulson activated the surveillance cameras and watched. He didn’t like it when anyone else handled Clint, but this was a quick scent check. Agent Woo was nearby and facilitated their Feline agent in another sweep of the alley. Clint was invaluable, not that he knew it.

The collar and leash that Coulson hated didn’t help Clint’s self-esteem, but the law was the law, and Shield followed it. Coulson watched him while he finished his sandwich. The cheetah was gorgeous, and several people stopped to get a quick picture. Agent Woo delivered the cheetah and his backpack to the van when Clint tugged that direction. It was, just barely, acceptable.

Clint plowed his head into Coulson’s lap, as usual, and Coulson removed the collar and leash quickly, stowing them in Clint’s backpack. “Stupid thing,” he muttered. “Don’t Switch, okay? You need some time as a cat. You Switch far too often.”

Purring, Clint grinned up into Coulson’s face. Coulson gave him a head scrub. “You found his scent?”

A quick nod.

“But nothing on the sidewalk in any direction?”

Another quick nod.

Coulson rested his hand on Clint’s head. Now, they had a real problem. “Someone has him.”

***

Officially, Tony Stark was in Dubai. Pepper made sure all trails led there, just in case. Underestimating Coulson would be a mistake. She could wish that he’d been less dramatic, taking the helicopter always drew attention, but it was Tony.

“Jarvis, initiate the Pepper Protocol,” she said, gathering her purse.

“Level 1 or 2?” he asked.

“Let’s hope it’s not a Level 2. One is fine, for now.” She took Happy by the hand, and they disappeared into Manhattan.

***

Chapter Text

***

“So, I can’t get rid of this?” Steve’s blue eyes were large on his face, and his hands were clenched together.

Taking a moment, Tony moved to sit across from him. “It’s not like your anemia or fallen arches. This is Feline DNA that is wrapped inside your very cells. It might have been in the serum, hell, it might’ve been there before. There’s no way to know. I’m just shocked you didn’t Switch during the war.”

Jaw clenched, Steve swallowed hard and then nodded once. “Never that scared,” he muttered. He wiped his hands down his face. “I have to live with this.”

“It’s who you are, now.” Tony tried to sound sympathetic. It wasn’t something he did well. He did think it was interesting that Captain America had been more frightened of Times Square than tanks firing at him. “If it’s any consolation, your fur is quite lovely, all those golden shades topped with very blue eyes. Of course, your mane is a little scroungy, so don’t get a big head, metaphorically speaking, because your actual head is huge.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you being a jerk?”

“Maybe.” Tony patted him on the knee and got to his feet, mind twirling with the possibility that pure adrenaline was the reason Felines Switched for the first time. He’d make some notes, but later, when Steve didn’t look so upset. Tony wanted to fix that. “Why don’t we go to the beach? You need a break from all that reading.”

“As me, or as… him?” Steve’s brow was furrowed hard.

“It’s all you. What would you like? Sand in your butt crack or in your fur?” Tony left him there to think about it, going to his bedroom to put on beach appropriate clothes. “Jarvis, state of the union?”

“Shield has broken off their search in Manhattan. Social media is still abuzz with theories about the cave lion, which is technically inaccurate, that appeared in Times Square.”

“That’s not good news. They’re switching gears. Hopefully, I got to the surveillance cameras before they did.” Tony could only hope. Captain America needed some more time, but if Tony had to take him to Sweden, he would.

***

Steve took the time to really think about it. He didn’t like any of this, but that could be the story of his life. Shutting his eyes, he sucked in a deep breath. There was an itch under his skin that hadn’t been there before he went into the ice. It’d taken months to get used to this big body, and now everything felt different, again. Irritated, he huffed out a big breath and went to the bedroom Jarvis had encouraged him to use.

It had a great view of the ocean, but some of it was fake. Jarvis had explained about projected images until Steve had yawned. The bed was big and very comfortable. He’d never dream of complaining after sleeping in mud puddles, but it was hard to sleep on, and usually, he woke up on the floor, having moved there in the middle of the night. Twice, he’d woken up as his lion, which was all kinds of wrong. The itch nagged at him, and he stripped off his clothes to fold on the bed. Concentrating, he dropped to four legs and shook all over.

The urge to roar swept over him, and he swore the walls shook with it. It felt good, and he slapped the door open wide before going to find Stark. So, he was a lion, a throwback to a different time when mammoths walked the earth. A man, and a lion, out of time, out of place, and he stomped towards the living room.

Stark had a towel over his shoulder and a scotch in his hand, dressed in a swimsuit and a T-shirt. “I’ll get this door since Jarvis informs me that your bedroom door is embedded in the wall.” But he was grinning as he pulled the outside door open.

Steve would fix it later. Right now, he needed to run. The ocean roared, and he roared back at it, tasting salt water. The water was cold on his paws, but he liked it, and he took a look back at Stark before throwing himself into the next wave.

When the ocean had beaten him into submission, he trudged up the beach to collapse by Stark’s chair. The umbrella put off some nice shade, and Stark’s drink was sitting on a cooler. Hopefully, there was food in there. Steve was always hungry, even more now that he was a lion of some sort.

“Feel better?”

Growling, Steve considered shaking water all over him. Stark sipped his drink. “Thought you were going to swim to Asia for a minute.” He dug in the cooler and tossed Steve a steak. Steve snapped it out of air without a thought and wasted no time putting it in his stomach. He licked his paws and needed something, but he wasn’t sure what. Stark patted him on the forehead, and Steve grinned at him.

That was it. He needed touch, and he didn’t understand it. He was also sure he didn’t much like the fact he wanted it. Shaking his head, he panted, feeling like too much was changing all at once.

“How’s the lion thing working out?” Stark was back to his scotch. “When I was kid, I wanted to be a Feline more than anything.”

Steve snorted, thinking the dream and the reality were quite different. Stark nodded. “When I got older, I realized this wasn’t the country to be born a Feline.” He shrugged. “Things are changing.”

“Not quick enough.” Steve shook the sand off his arms and grabbed the towel to drape over his private parts. “Food?”

Stark handed him a sandwich. “What’s it like?”

“Different.” Steve sincerely hoped his body was finished changing. Being scrawny and sick had been miserable, but at least he hadn’t had a tail.

***

Chapter Text

***

“I think Stark has him.” Coulson leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He’d been staring at surveillance footage and traffic cams for hours. What there was of it.

Fury raised his eyebrows. He was sprawled in the chair in front of Coulson’s desk with his hand on Clint’s head, scratching him behind the ears. Clint was loving it but trying to play it cool. Coulson had seen it before. Fury groaned. “Tell me why.”

“Stark Tower is within the search parameter. Someone picked up Captain Rogers. Stark’s limo was easy to spot on the traffic camera fifteen blocks back, but then vanishes. What footage there is left doesn’t show him.” Coulson was sure. “Someone deleted it. Someone who can hack anything. Also, Stark’s credit card was used at that deli on that day around the time we lost him.”

“Best sandwiches in town. You’ve convinced me.” Fury sighed. “Damn it, Cheese.”

“It’s good news, in that I’m sure the captain is fine. Bad news in that Stark could’ve taken him anywhere in the world by now. A helicopter took off from the top of Stark Tower three days ago.”

“Find him.” Fury got to his feet. “And then you and Agent Barton convince him that Shield is a safe haven for Felines. We need Stark and Rogers in our corner going forward.”

“Yes, sir.” Coulson stood and took a long stretch, trying to hide a yawn. “I’ll call Pepper Potts.”

“Take ten. You and the mangy cheetah get some rest.” Fury was halfway out the door. “If Stark has him, he’s safe.”

Clint yowled at the familiar insult, and Coulson smiled. They’d take a break and then, at last, he’d get to meet his childhood hero, while he was awake this time.

***

It was a shock; the first time Captain America slid his big head into Tony’s lap. He’d been a lion at the time, or Tony might’ve done something very inappropriate. As it was, he froze for a full minute before tentatively putting his hand on his head. Cap rumbled deep in his chest, definitely not a purr, and Tony decided not to piss his pants.

“Guess you are a part-time cat,” Tony muttered as he started stroking him. It seemed rude, even intrusive to pet him, but Cap – Steve – whatever – the big lug clearly loved it. Tony kept his hands in what he considered safe zones – no tail pulling – and they got along well enough. Whenever Steve was in his fur, he demanded pets, and Tony complained about it, knowing that Steve would just grin and pile further on top of him.

When Steve was in his skin, they never talked about it, concentrating on history lessons and proper use of technology. Tony was surprised that he wasn’t bored, but Steve’s insights and comments were a never-ending source of amusement. Captain America was wicked sarcastic and deeply earnest while questioning everything. Tony was ridiculously attracted to him, but he was careful not to show it. He was too old for him, and his father would probably come back from the dead to slap him in the face.

They went to the beach every day, and Tony didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for the projects he wasn’t finishing. He didn’t have long here with Steve, and he was going to enjoy it. The real world was going to intrude soon enough.

***

Growing up in the circus, Clint had slept with the big cats. Sleeping in a barracks once he’d joined Shield had been fine, but he’d finally been promoted to his own room in the helicarrier about a year ago, and he hadn’t slept in it yet. He kept his clothes there, and the shower was pretty nice, but sleeping was impossible. It was too quiet, no one breathing or tossing and turning.

He was willing to sit at the table and use his computer. Finishing up the paperwork from his last mission would make Coulson happy, and Clint took the time to do it correctly. When he was done, he sent it off and was surprised when a message popped backed.

Go to bed, Agent Barton.

Clint ducked his head and shut it all down. He padded over to the fridge and rapidly ate a sandwich before taking a long stretch. Taking his clothes off, he flowed into a Switch and made sure to shut the door behind him.

No one even gave him a second look as he jogged down the long hallways. He was forbidden from full-out running unless it was an emergency since he’d crashed into Agent Sitwell that one time. Corners could be tough at seventy miles an hour. He slipped into the large gym and ignored everyone as he climbed to the very top of the ceiling to sprawl on top of a heating unit. The intermittent noise below lulled him to sleep.

***

Coulson made sure his agent’s computer had dropped out of the network before starting his bedtime rituals. He could admit to needing eight hours of sleep. Unfortunately, his phone rang, and he knew what that meant. No rest for this senior agent.

“Cheese, your Feline is up in the ceiling in the gym again. It’s freaking the other agents out.”

“Why?” Coulson rubbed his forehead and sat down on the edge of his bed.

“They worry he’s going to pounce on them.”

“Which is a valid concern.” Coulson sighed, letting Fury hear how tired he was. “Why don’t you just put a tree in his quarters?”

“Why don’t you just get his ass and take him to bed like everyone on this boat knows you want to!” Fury’s voice was loud enough to make Coulson pull the phone slightly away from his ear.

“You have today in the pool, don’t you?” Coulson asked in a dry as dust voice, knowing from the silence that he was right. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Just get him out of the ceiling.” And Fury hung up on him.

Groaning, Coulson didn’t put his tie back on, just striding down to the gym. It was almost time to deal with this, but not tonight, and he certainly wasn’t letting Fury win the pot. There were two people sparring, several more working out on mats, and they all stopped to stare at him. He could very dimly see a golden tail hanging off part of the HVAC system.

“Barton! Get down here!”

The tail flicked, and within a minute, Barton was grinning up at him, like a cheetah would. Coulson rubbed his face. “There are complaints. We’ve talked about this. Come on.”

Barton slumped after him, but this time Coulson didn’t take him back to his quarters. No, Coulson went to his own, shutting the door firmly so Clint couldn’t make a break for it and giving him a look.

“I need sleep.” Coulson went about his business, ignoring the cheetah. Finally, teeth brushed, lights out, Coulson got his tired ass on the bed and let out a tremendous sigh. “Come to bed.”

There was a chirp, and suddenly there was a cheetah in bed with him. Coulson gave him a fumbled pat on the butt. “Sleep.” And he was out.

***

Steve decided his second favorite person in the world was the chef. The lady was willing to make him steak after steak, all prepared a little differently. He liked them all, but some got a roar of approval, and that made her smile.

“You can’t just eat meat!” Tony told him for the hundredth time. Steve didn’t worry. He ate vegetables and fruit when he was in his skin, but they tasted weird in his fur. Growling, Steve put his paw on the table like he might take Tony’s steak. Tony leaned into a healthy glare. “This one’s mine, ya big furball.”

Mewling, Steve looked at the chef pathetically, and she laughed. “He really works those big, blue eyes.” And she put two more steaks on his side of the table. “His favorite is T-bone.”

“He doesn’t require you to cook them.” Tony was a master of sounding slightly snippy. That was very true, but Steve preferred them cooked. He snapped up the steaks and then jogged to his room to Switch and redress. When he returned to the table, Tony raised his eyes. “You’re not full?”

“Not even close.” Steve sat down and put the napkin in his lap. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She nodded, filled his plate again, and then found things to do in the kitchen, leaving them alone. Tony rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s review. Who invented the computer?”

Shoveling his mouth full of potatoes, Steve nearly laughed at Tony’s priorities. After he swallowed and wiped his mouth, he said, “All those YouTube videos – you’re a bit of scoundrel.”

“Thank you. And I see you changing the subject.” Tony waggled his knife at him. “Jarvis has been singing your academic praises. I’m not sure that’s warranted.”

Steve laughed. It’d been a surprise that he genuinely liked Tony Stark. He was alone in this century, but he had a Stark in his corner. He was sure of that, and he was also sure they could take on the world, if it was needed. “Let’s talk Feline politics. Who do you think is going to claim me? Once they find me.”

Tony snorted. “I could hide you forever, if you’d let me. I think Shield will have the claim, but technically the government will own you with the right to sell you wherever it sees fit. It could sell you to a little old lady in New Jersey, if it wants, but the Army will probably put up a huge fuss.”

“Probably.” Steve could see their point, and he had no desire to live in New Jersey. “You should dummy up some old documents that give Howard Stark the right, if I had Switched back then.”

Tony’s eyebrows went up. He tilted his head. “That’s not a terrible idea. He did found Shield.”

“I know.” Steve had given it a lot of thought, and if he had to have an owner, it was going to be Tony, or someone was getting their ass bit. “At least we can muddy the waters enough for me to change the political system.”

Tony stopped chewing. Steve grinned at him. “All Starks love a good fight.”

“That we do.” Tony nodded. He smiled back at him, just a quick twist of his lips. “Jarvis.”

“I’ll begin the search.”

Steve tucked into his dinner. He had meant to die in that ice, but since he hadn’t, he was going to do some good right now. Jarvis had told him that he was the only prehistoric lion in a world where Felines were discriminated against at every turn, and that meant he had a responsibility.

***

Chapter Text

***

Pepper had given it a lot of thought, tucked away in an office in New Jersey, of all places. Eventually, Shield would catch up with Tony and Captain Rogers. Agent Coulson was thorough, competent, even tenacious. There had to be a solution that would protect Captain America from the government.

“Happy, I think it’s time we return to the Tower. I need to go through some of the old archives.” Pepper started loading her briefcase. “We’ll use the subway entrance.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Happy took everything she handed him. “You think of something?”

“I have an idea that might keep him in our hands, and I guarantee we’re going to get dusty.” Pepper enjoyed his small groan of disappointment.

“My favorite thing.”

***

As a punishment, it’d been a harsh one. Coulson might as well have picked Clint up by the scruff of the neck and shaken him.

When Coulson went to make coffee, Clint slunk over to the door. The handle was not Feline friendly, so he waited, ears down, tail tucked, feeling like he’d been kicked.

“You could stay and have coffee? I have clothes.”

Clint nudged the doorknob with his nose, refusing to look at him, and when it opened, he scurried to his own quarters. Coulson had asked Clint not to sleep in the vents, and obeying him was easy, but the HVAC system in the gym wasn’t in the vents! Switching and going to shower, Clint grumbled the entire way. People had complained. Stupid Humans, always griping, like he was going to eat them or something!

The thought made his stomach rumble, but instead of going to the cafeteria to eat, he ate what was left in his mini-fridge and ignored how it wasn’t enough. He paced and paced, needing so many things that he’d never get. Coulson had offered him coffee. He’d probably wanted to talk about how stupid Clint was, and how he never obeyed the rules, and how he had to try to be more Human.

Trying never counted, only results. He’d learned that lesson early and often. Scrubbing his hand through his hair, he nearly jumped when there was a knock on his door. He got it fast. Clint’s face burned red, and he knew Coulson was giving him to another handler. Someone that Clint would probably hate.

“Agent Barton.”

“Director.” Clint fell into parade rest, shocked to see him. This was serious. He felt like he needed to defend himself. “I apologize for my behavior. I didn’t realize Humans would care if I slept up high in the gym.”

“If you pounced on a few less people, you wouldn’t have these problems.” Fury smirked. “Coulson suggested I put a tree in your quarters, and after I got done laughing, I realized, perhaps, that Shield hasn’t made an effort to accommodate your Feline needs.”

“Why be different than anyone else?” Clint muttered, but he followed when Fury made a gesture to walk and talk. Fury wasn’t a fan of standing around talking, everyone knew that. “I’ll apologize to Agent Coulson. He has every right to reprimand me for disobeying his order.”

Fury slowed down, and Clint could smell the confusion and a trace of anger. “You disobeyed him?”

“He told me not to sleep in the vents.” Clint hunched his shoulders. He’d done it now.

“Found a loophole, huh?” Fury chuckled. “You know I like out of the box thinking. Now, tell me why you don’t sleep in your quarters. We didn’t have this problem when you were in the barracks.”

Clint wanted to lie, brush it off, but he’d already made Coulson hate him, so it really didn’t matter. “It’s too quiet,” he said. “I can’t sleep.”

Fury didn’t say anything until they were in the elevator. “So where do you want your tree? With the understanding that I’m not responsible for you falling out of it!”

The words were shocking. Clint flushed, at a loss for words, and the elevator swooshed open on the bridge.

“You think about it. Work with the requisitions, and it’ll get done.” Fury nodded, and Clint watched the doors shut. He pressed the button to take him to the range. He’d hide there, maybe for the rest of his life.

***

Careful not to snag a cheetah tail that was in a hasty retreat, Coulson shut the door. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning against it and scrubbing his face. He made the decision to act like it was nothing this morning. That it didn’t matter. That he hadn’t wanted to pull Clint against him and kiss him senseless.

He’d woken up before the Feline and watching him sleep had made him want so many things that didn’t seem possible. He walked a fine line, offering affection to the Feline who needed it, while maintaining a professional attitude when Clint was in his skin.

Every day, he worked at it, and every day he made sure he didn’t screw it up. Last night had been a huge mistake, a blurring of the line. Blaming his behavior on fatigue seemed cheap, but it was all he had. Coulson sighed. He’d known when Clint had suddenly Switched that his moment was over. So, he’d made a lightning-fast decision to play it off like it was no big deal.

Clint had slunk off the bed and bolted for the door, which he wasn’t capable of opening. Even as a cheetah, Clint had looked upset, almost quivering. Coulson was beyond mortified. He hadn’t meant to trap him. Clint clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe if Coulson had explained, maybe if he’d tried, but he hadn’t.

The coffee was ready, and Coulson dragged his feet that direction. This was why he’d never wanted to even consider it. He’d known he’d fail at it.

***

“They’ll know we faked it,” Pepper said, not that she was arguing.

The image of Tony on her flat screen suddenly disappeared, replaced with a large lion nose.

“You can’t just push a man down!” shouted Tony.

The grumbles of the lion were easy to hear, and the nose backed up until she could see all of Steve’s lion face. Calling him Captain America when he was furry was impossible. Tony pushed the lion head aside and Steve licked him from chin to forehead. Tony made an indescribable noise and threw himself on the lion’s back.

“Pepper! Save me!”

“Jarvis, help me.” Pepper put her chin in her hand. “Oh, and send me the video of this.”

A live stream of the antics in the shop popped up in the corner of her screen. Tony had vanished under a large lion, who was licking the top of his head. Pepper laughed, not able to keep it inside. “Steve! Stop! I need him alive!”

Steve stood up and grinned at her with all his teeth. It was terrifying. Tony scrambled out from underneath him and claimed the chair, hair standing on end. “He’s a menace!”

Before Pepper could reply, Steve roared, practically breaking her eardrums and slid his chin on Tony’s shoulder. Pepper put her hand over her mouth at Tony’s annoyed look.

“It’s good you’re getting along,” she said cheerily, thinking that karma was squaring her account with one Tony Stark. “Anyway, Shield isn’t going to believe it.”

“Excuse me, Miss Potts, but we only have to convince a court of law, not Shield,” Jarvis said. “And I believe we can do that with the documentation we’ve already found.”

Tony scrubbed a hand through his hair. “It only says that if Steve Rogers becomes a Feline, Stark Industries can’t be sued.”

“But it also says that Stark Industries is responsible for the creation of any super soldier that appears.” Jarvis was usually right in legal matters. Pepper rarely argued with him. “Your father wanted full credit, sir.”

Steve nudged Tony with his big nose. Tony patted him on the head. “My dad was an ass. Sorry.”

Blowing out a big breath, Steve put his head in Tony’s lap. Pepper watched in amusement as Tony automatically began stroking him. “I’m meeting with our attorneys later today on this. Don’t do anything crazy if Shield shows up.”

Voice fierce, Tony leaned forward. “They’re not taking him anywhere he doesn’t want to go.”

Pepper could see there wouldn’t be any arguing about that. “Happy says hello. You two be good.”

“Love you, Pep.” Tony clicked off, and Pepper replayed the video of Steve tackling Tony and sent it to Happy’s phone.

***

Steve took a quick shower but he had no intention of sleeping in that bed. He Switched and padded down to Tony’s workshop.

Dummy spun in a circle with a rag in his claw, and Steve snapped at it enough to make the bot happy. Tony was digging in a small refrigerator, probably for one of his horrible drinks he called food. Steve wandered that way and gladly accepted the steak tossed his direction. He ate it in two bites before going to check his water bowl. Tony filled it with what he said was artisan water. Steve just drank it.

“Thought you were going to bed?”

Shaking his head, Steve wandered to the sofa and claimed his favorite spot, wiggling to get his back comfortable.

“I see how it is.” Tony took the chair and drank his green sludge. “Agent Coulson is a fan of yours, or so I hear. I’m hoping he’ll be on our side when the shit hits the fan.”

Steve would remember the name. He crossed his paws and yawned. Tony slumped in the chair, and Steve’s eyes drifted shut. He woke up on the floor again, but this time, he had a Human tucked inside his paws. Tony had his head pillowed on Steve and was snoring as if he’d never been more comfortable.

The trust implied was breathtaking. Steve could’ve killed him, by accident, in his sleep! Keeping very still, Steve shut his eyes and tried not clutch him tight.

“Watch the paws,” Tony grumbled, pushing on Steve’s chest to sit up. He still used him as a back rest, but he was awake, scrubbing at his hair. Steve leaned up and swiped his rough tongue the length of Tony’s head. Tony shoved at him with a squawk. “I’m donating you to a zoo.”

Dummy squealed loud enough to hurt Steve’s ears, and Tony burrowed back down into Steve’s fur. “I think he’s jealous,” he muttered, and he shut his eyes. Steve nosed Tony’s hair gently and let out a chuff. Shield, or whoever, may come for him, but they better not lay a hand on Tony Stark.

***

Chapter Text

***

By lunch on the fourth day, Coulson put his head down on his desk and gave up on life. Not really, but he was feeling dramatic. Stark Industries owned a lot of properties around the world. While he didn’t believe Stark was in Dubai, all signs pointed to that fact.

Pepper Potts was unavailable, which meant that she knew what was going on and was in hiding. He’d thought they were friends, but he supposed her first loyalty was to Stark.

On top of his raging headache, he hadn’t seen his… okay, not his… but he hadn’t seen Agent Barton since that disastrous morning, which he didn’t want to think about at all.

The door flew open, and Coulson about gave himself whiplash getting his head up and putting a calm look on his face. His heart prayed it was Clint, but his eyes disappointed him.

“Hi, Jasper.”

“Found him?” Sitwell plunked down in a chair and crossed his legs, smiling a little.

“Working on it.” Coulson had all the information. He just couldn’t make it tell him what he needed to know. “You?”

“Not my monkeys, not my circus.” Sitwell was always so helpful. “Been in the rec room on level six lately?”

Coulson spread his hands. “Do you think I’ve been anywhere but here?”

“Just curious, since it’s not that far from your quarters.” Sitwell popped up to his feet. “The water cooler talk is all about how you and a certain cheetah broke up. If that’s true, I need the date you got together so I can distribute the winnings.”

“Leave my office.” Coulson narrowed one eye. “Right now.”

Sitwell laughed, but he got out the door in a timely fashion. Coulson leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. Wishing was useless, but he’d give a lot for Clint to come strolling in with a coffee for each of them and perch on the arm of the small sofa like he wasn’t thinking of a nap.

“Damn it,” Coulson whispered. He’d ruined it, and he’d have to go find him, try to fix it. If Clint had requested a new handler, the paperwork would’ve landed on Coulson’s desk already. So, that was something.

The range was the first place to look, but Clint wasn’t there, and someone shot him a sympathetic look, which was completely unacceptable. From there, Coulson went to lunch in the cafeteria. His head was pounding, and he needed to refuel. Also, coffee was required. It was barely possible Clint would be at their table.

Clint wasn’t there either, and Coulson didn’t rubberneck. He took his food and coffee to his usual spot and kept his face completely bland. Smoothing his tie down, he ate, and he ignored everyone’s attempt at eye contact. So, it’d been four days. No one had the right to notice.

The noise in the cafeteria dropped to zero, and Coulson knew without looking up from his Rueben that Clint was in line. Looking at him took an actual conscious effort, but he waited until he was sure Clint was moving towards a table. Clint’s usual spot was across from Coulson, but he went to the other side of the room and sat down by Agent Woo. Coulson was fairly sure he saw actual red. He blinked several times, but his blood pressure wasn’t subsiding. Being adult was the furthest thing from his mind, and he all but stomped over to the two of them.

“If you want a new handler, I’ll need the paperwork,” Coulson snarled, hating himself.

Clint waited a beat, looked up at him, and said, “When have you ever known what I wanted?”

A slap would’ve been kinder. In fact, a bullet would’ve been a damn mercy. Coulson hitched a deep breath and went back to his office to punch the wall.

***

When the noise in the cafeteria returned to normal, Woo leaned a little closer. “You do realize that he can kill us with his tie and a paper clip?”

“You, but probably not me.” Clint realized that pissing off his direct superior was stupid. He also didn’t want a new handler, which could be a consequence of making Coulson angry. “I just…” He stopped, not even knowing what to say.

“He embarrassed you, and you don’t know how to apologize for something he did?” Woo kept his voice very low, and Clint appreciated that.

“Yeah.” Clint agreed, but that wasn’t it, not really. He sighed. “Things are perfect when I’m in my fur, but if I’m in my skin, he treats me like I’m nothing but another co-worker. And I can’t apologize for being a cheetah and bothering him. I mean… you don’t pet co-workers? But I like it, and…” He trailed off, unable to figure out where his thoughts were going.

Woo nodded. “We could tie a note to your neck.” It was clear he wasn’t joking. “Explain that you like it?”

Clint tilted his head. He’d consider it. It also begged the question of how did he want to be treated when he was in his skin. He sighed again at how dumb he was. “Sorry.”

After Woo rolled his eyes, he slid his chicken onto Clint’s plate. “Stop being so Midwestern. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Pretty sure I did.” Clint ate everything on his plate and went back for seconds. It’d been easy to skulk around and avoid Coulson when he was hiding in his office, but it was time to fix this. He had no idea how, or even how he’d broken it.

***

Tony watched Steve prowl around the shop. He’d gotten upset at the latest media coverage of his Switch in Times Square. His hands flexed into fists over and over again, and he looked as if he wanted to bite something.

Telling him to relax didn’t seem like a good idea. Tony strolled to the back of his shop, past the motorcycles, to the gun cabinet, unlocked it with his thumb print, and started pulling everything out. He loaded up a nearby cart and pushed it over to a work station. Finding all the proper cleaning supplies took a moment.

By the time he was back, Steve was standing there, staring down at them. Steve glanced at him, licked his lips, and said, “That’s a nice collection.”

“All Stark guns.” Tony picked up a pistol, made sure it was unloaded, and started taking it apart to clean. He did it with his eyes closed, just for fun. “I should take better care of them.”

Steve pulled up a stool. “I miss my shield. I know it’s stupid.”

“Shield has it.” Tony was sure of it. “You’ll get it back.”

“Or they’ll put a big collar on my neck and take me for testing.” The words were soft and low, like Steve knew he’d go without complaint.

Tony had to take a deep breath before he could make his promise. “I will not allow that to happen.”

They shared a short look before Steve’s eyes slid away. “I’m a soldier. I believe in democracy and freedom.”

“But you won’t allow the government to do this. You won’t! Because if you do, I will fly in there and blast the crap out of all of them.” Tony hoped he sounded like he meant it, because he did. “What happens to Felines has nothing to do with freedom or democracy!”

Breathing hard, Steve picked up a gun and quickly took it apart. “I won’t let them,” he whispered. “No more dancing like a monkey to their tune.”

Tony handed him a cloth to clean the gun. “Exactly.” He went to find them some drinks and snacks. “Now get busy.”

After a long moment, Steve nodded.

***

It took all the courage Clint had to knock on Coulson’s door and actually go inside, instead of running away. Coming here in his skin might’ve been a mistake, but he had to be able to talk.

Coulson was sitting at his desk, laptop closed, and he raised his eyebrows but said nothing when Clint took the few steps to stand in front of him. Taking a small breath, loving the smell of him, even now, Clint tried to sound mature. “I’m sorry I was sleeping up high in the gym. I knew you wouldn’t like it, and I did it anyway.”

Coulson gave him a funny look, one that Clint had never seen before, and he smelled confused, not angry. “You weren’t in the vents.” He gestured at the chair. “Do you want a new handler?” His voice was small, and Clint could smell the sadness. It nearly broke him.

Sitting down, Clint shook his head. “You took me to your room to punish me, and it was a bad one, sir. It was awful. I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.”

“I’m completely confused.” Coulson rubbed his forehead. “We were tired. You slept on the bed. I made coffee?”

Clint stared at him, deciding that confusion was on both their sides. “I was embarrassed. And I know you want me to be more Human. I just… can’t sleep in my quarters. It’s too quiet. Taking me to your quarters, locking me inside, just showed me how stupid I was acting, and I deserved it.”

Coulson let out a heavy sigh. “No, Clint. I didn’t mean to lock you inside. I just thought we could get some sleep. I’m… sorry.” He flushed red, and he smelled sad.

It was hard to breathe now. Clint knew he usually got it wrong when it came to Humans, but he’d been raised in a circus, mostly by an old lion. His own brother wouldn’t even talk to him. “My fault. I think I’m in trouble so much that I couldn’t believe you weren’t punishing me.”

“Clint, I’ve never wanted you to be more Human.” Coulson wasn’t lying. “I’ve only wanted you to follow enough rules that you aren’t hurting yourself and your career here at Shield.”

A complicated reason, and Clint would think about it. He nodded. “I know I’m a pain in the ass. Did you find him?”

“Your best is always good enough.” Coulson straightened up and got to his feet. “And no, I haven’t. Stark owns properties all over the world.”

“But which one is getting huge deliveries of steak? Lion that big is gonna eat him out of house and mansion!” Clint tried to smile. He wanted to meet Captain America, but he knew it’d be reserved for important Human agents.

Coulson blinked several times. “My god, you’re right!” He threw open his laptop and started typing. When he was done, he was smiling. “I should’ve asked an expert to help me in the first place. I wouldn’t have spent the last few days staring at my computer!”

Clint felt himself starting to blush, and he got to his feet. He had one more thing to say. “Thanks for not lodging a formal reprimand.”

“Clint, you weren’t in the vents!” Coulson stood as well. “The search program can handle it from here. I need sleep.”

“You do smell exhausted.” Clint opened the door. “I’ll keep my mangy ass off your bed this time. You’ll sleep better.”

Coulson frowned, and Clint couldn’t stay there another minute longer. He left with a quick wave, and he didn’t look back. That was done, and he was okay, and he had a few things to think about, but the main thing was that Coulson hadn’t been punishing him. So, Clint would look at the whole situation again from a different angle.

***

A shared table, way in the back of the empty rec room – the one off the flight deck – and two cups of the blackest coffee imaginable. A shared look, and Woo shook his head.

“Are you kidding me?” Sitwell put his head on the table.

“I tried. You should’ve seen Coulson’s face. He was ready to tear my head off.” Woo spoke in a hushed voice. “Barton took all the blame, of course.”

Sitwell sat up and drank some coffee, almost wincing at the taste. He’d be up until morning. “When they find Captain America, are we ready?”

“We are.” Woo’s eyes flitted back and forth. “Once he puts on the collar…”

“And he will, because he believes the government can be trusted.” Sitwell nodded, smirking over the rim of his coffee cup. “Coulson will find him, soon is my guess.”

“We sure about this?” Woo didn’t look sure about anything.

“Orders are orders. The world isn’t ready for a goddamn cave lion with the skills of Captain America.” Sitwell leaned very far forward and dropped his voice to barely above a whisper. “He dies. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” Woo gulped and nodded. “And Barton?”

“Once Coulson keeps him leashed, we’re fine.” Sitwell eased to his feet. “Make it happen.” He left without a look back.

Woo put his coffee down. He was loyal to Sitwell. They’d come up through the ranks together, but this was asking too much, and he was running out of time to make other plans.

***

Chapter Text

***

Steve found himself at loose ends the day Tony went into the California plant for a quick inspection of some machinery that wasn’t performing up to specs. Tony had complained viciously, but Pepper glared from her office in New York, and he went. Steve liked Pepper.

Dummy was fun, but Steve needed some fresh air. He was careful to open all the doors before he Switched. Destroying them made Tony roll his eyes. Outside, the breeze was amazing, and the sun was shining, and he climbed a hill to get a good look around. Sprawling, he lazed in the sunshine.

He heard it first, making a noise like an engine but higher pitched. Then he saw it, coming in and around Tony’s house. It dipped and dived, and he growled, not liking the looks of this. Another one spun out of nowhere, and Steve could see shades rolling down and hear the doors click to lock. Jarvis was buttoning up the house. It’d happened before, after Tony had been drinking.

These were intruders. Steve kept low, and he could see something like a camera on the top of it. He’d studied Tony’s technology, and these seemed like they might be drones. He didn’t like the idea of them.

Slinking, staying low, he watched them, waiting until they split up. With a roar, he used the side of the house as a springboard and flew up to grab it in his mouth. He landed easily and smashed it quickly, hoping he was doing the right thing. The other one, he heard it coming, and he ran, meeting it at the corner and destroying it by jumping right in the pool with it.

Strangely satisfied, he dragged it out and threw it down by the other one. They were dead, and he roared.

The Iron Man suit landed next to the pool within minutes. Steve had heard its familiar rumble, and he nudged the wrecked drones with his paw.

“Well, our vacation is over.” Tony sounded weird in his Iron Man suit. “If we’re lucky, there was no live feed. Oh, and good job.”

Steve Switched, squatting and picking up pieces of the drones. “Not very sturdy.”

“Drones have changed the field of war. Don’t underestimate them.” Iron Man clanked away, into the house, and it was Tony who came back to sweep up the parts. “Let’s go see what we have.”

“I’ll get some pants.”

***

“From that smug ass look on your face, I assume you’ve found him.” Fury had called this meeting, but he was late.

Coulson smirked and put up the video from the drones on the big screen. “He ate our drones.”

They watched the video in silence and Fury made him play it twice. “Remind me never to piss him off.”

“That was a fifteen-foot jump,” Coulson said with a grin. “And the rebound off the house? Amazing body control. With even a small amount of training, he could be truly terrifying in the field.”

Fury gave him a look. “Cheese, your inner fangirl is showing.”

“He’s magnificent.” Coulson didn’t lose his smile, playing it again. “Agent Barton?”

“He’s fast, agile, jumps like a kangaroo, and his teeth are horrifying.” Clint shrugged. “I’m probably faster.”

“The press are going to go ape shit.” Fury pointed at the two of them. “This is eyes only. Go to California. Don’t piss him off. I don’t want to have to train two new agents.”

Coulson practically jumped to his feet. “We’ll bring him in.”

Tapping the table, Fury focused on Clint. “I want you to take the lead on this, Agent Barton. Convince him. If we try to force this, Stark will spirit him away to God knows where.” Fury hooked his thumb at Coulson. “And he’s lost his damn mind.”

Clint grinned. “He really is over the top.” But he nodded. “I’ll talk to him. One thing, he’s going to need a collar and leash. I’m not sure I want to be the one to tell him.”

“Coulson will handle that. I hear they have one ready. Get with Sitwell.” Fury eased to his feet. “Don’t screw this up.”

“Yes, sir,” Clint and Coulson said together. Fury shut the door behind him, and Coulson gave Clint a look. “I’m fine.”

“You want to marry him.” Clint snorted. “I’ll meet you in the hanger.”

***

Steve honestly didn’t know what to say. He paced behind Tony as he tore the drones apart and ranted about intruders, assholes, and people with no manners. Tony also declared he was putting laser cannons on the roof.

That was easy to believe. Steve made sure Tony had coffee and got himself a sandwich or two. The lady chef made them thick with roast beef and homemade bread, slathered in this special sauce, something called Ranch Dressing. Steve had asked Jarvis to give her a raise.

“When do you think they’ll be here?” Steve finally decided that was the only question that mattered.

“Soon.” Tony seemed to take great delight in smashing one of the parts. He looked up. “Sandwiches?”

“I’ll get you one.” Steve went right back to the fridge. “Of all the inventions I’ve seen so far, Ranch Dressing is the best.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “Better than vaccinations?”

His outrage made it easy to laugh, Steve handed him a sandwich. “Yes.”

“You’re insane. I see it now.” But Tony grinned as he took a bite. “What this sandwich needs,” he mumbled around his food, “is a good soft cheese with it.”

“Not a big fan of cheese,” Steve said, trying for more manners than Tony and swallowing first. “But I do miss Spam sandwiches.”

Now Tony looked aghast. “Chef would actually die if you asked her to prepare Spam.” His eyes narrowed. “Could be fun.”

Steve laughed again, thinking that they may come to get him, but he and Tony could take them. They ate their sandwiches, and Steve took a turn smashing parts.

***

Sitwell gloated a little as he showed Coulson the collar and leash. “It’s made of the latest compounds, and while it looks heavy, it’s not. It’s embedded with all the tracking technology available today. There’s even a camera so we can see what he does. They really outdid themselves.”

Opening the carry-on, Coulson picked it up and stared at it long enough to make Sitwell nervous. Finally, he tucked them inside and shut the case. Sitwell controlled his sigh of relief. “It’s the law.”

“So was rounding up the Jews. So were the bounties on Native American scalps.” Coulson spoke softly. “It’s wrong.”

“He could be dangerous. We don’t know yet.” Sitwell played his best card. “After testing and evaluation, we’ll know more.”

“He’s Captain America,” Coulson ground out, but he picked up the case. “Thank you, Agent Sitwell.”

“Good luck.” Sitwell kept his grin tucked away until the door shut behind Coulson. Having the biggest fan of Captain America ever deliver the collar that would kill him was the highlight of his career. He grinned and went to treat himself to the good coffee.

***

Chapter Text

***

With practiced motions, Clint packed his duffle, not really thinking. It was difficult to believe he was even meeting Captain America, much less as the lead agent. Coulson hadn’t even complained, just saying that he’d pick up the collar and leash before catching up with Clint at the quinjet.

Clint had given the situation between him and Coulson a lot of thought. Coulson had been angry that Clint would even think of a new handler. Coulson had tried to help Clint at every turn, and Coulson had offered him coffee. They’d slept together, and Clint had watched him fall asleep, wishing for things he couldn’t have because of his damn fur. Humans used Felines for sex, but they certainly never married them. And it didn’t matter because Coulson would never do that.

Shoving an emergency pair of pants in the duffle, Clint sighed. What they had was enough, and he didn’t have the right to wish for more. Anyway, Coulson would find a Human woman eventually, and Clint couldn’t let it break him. Clint took a deep breath. From his first day at Shield, Coulson had always been there for him, but it didn’t mean anything, not really.

Coulson was a good guy, like his idol, Captain America. The idea that Captain America was dangerous in his fur was worth mentioning, and Clint packed all his usual weapons. If Cap decided they were a threat, he could easily kill them both, unless Clint was ready for him.

A Feline that large could kill someone without meaning to, just from lack of control. Instincts were sometimes very strong, and who knew what ancient instincts ran in the veins of a cave lion.

Stark was alive, however, and that man and his mouth had actually driven Coulson to loosen his tie at the end of the day. That was saying something. Clint figured the captain had the patience of a saint, and that meant they probably wouldn’t die on this mission.

Or at least, Clint hoped.

***

The quinjet lifted off the helicarrier with only Coulson and Clint on board. Clint was the pilot, and Coulson took over the co-pilot seat. He was certified but just barely capable. He didn’t have a feel for it, but he was very good at memorizing buttons, so at least he was somewhat useful. If he were honest, he much preferred to sit in the back.

“Ready, sir?” Clint asked through the headset; his voice slightly distorted.

“Let’s get there before Stark figures out we’re on the way and moves him.” Coulson didn’t want to chase them all over the planet.

“I’ll push it.”

Coulson nodded, so many emotions flying around his head. Excitement to meet his hero, not just watch him sleep, and absolute dread at the idea of asking Captain America – the greatest man to ever live – to wear a collar. A goddamn collar, like some sort of slave, and Coulson would have to help him put it around his neck.

“Clint?”

Clint glanced at him, eyes wide. “Sir?”

“I brought the collar and leash.” Coulson couldn’t keep the rage from his voice.

There was a quick nod, but Clint kept his eyes on the sky. “I brought my set, as well, just in case.”

It was like someone had poured cold water over Coulson’s head. He actually let out a small gasp. He hated Clint’s collar, but he’d never even tried to do… anything. The laws had to change, and Coulson hadn’t given it a thought until today. “I’m sorry,” he said, truly meaning the words.

“It’s the law,” Clint said, and his tone wasn’t sarcastic. “You’re a good handler.”

Finding words to answer him wasn’t even possible. Coulson measured his breaths, trying not to rant and rave. He didn’t want to be Clint’s handler. He wanted to be Clint’s lover, but that collar and leash would always stand between them. Coulson should’ve found his moral line when Clint was hired, not years later for the sake of his hero. Shame made Coulson’s cheeks flush, and he forced his mind to the job at hand because he couldn’t fix it.

Clint deserved someone who always had his back, not someone who didn’t think of it until much later. When it came to Clint, Coulson kept failing, and he’d known he would but not quite so spectacularly.

“You okay, boss?”

“Yes.” Coulson knew Clint could smell all the crazy emotions leaking out of him right now, and he had to get hold of himself. Do the job. Find success on the mission that might possibly be the most important one of his life. “I just want him to be safe.”

“We’ll do our best, and that’s always been good enough.” Clint sounded like he had complete faith in their abilities.

Coulson hoped it was warranted.

***

The quinjet lifted off right as Woo stepped into the hanger. He was too late. He’d tried, but he’d been slowed down by a lack of intel. He couldn’t help but wonder if Sitwell had kept him out of the loop for a reason. Maybe his lack of conviction in the mission showed on his face.

“Is there a problem, Agent Woo?”

Woo spun, heart in his throat, to face Director Fury. A plausible reason scrambled his brains. “I just wanted to wish them well. It’s a big deal, bringing in Captain America.”

“The mission was classified far above your pay grade.” Fury leaned into his words. “Do we have a problem here, Agent?”

“No, sir.” Woo felt a light-headed. He was dead. Never had his conflict been so apparent, and it brought the truth home with it. He was loyal to Shield, not Hydra. Screw Agent Sitwell. “I spoke with Agent Sitwell, and he told me.” He threw him under the bus without a hint of remorse.

Fury made a disgusted noise. “He gossips like my grandma. I’ll mention it to him again. And you need to keep your mouth shut.”

“Yes, sir.” Woo got the hell out of the hanger, trying not to actually run, but not caring if it looked like he was. He needed a mission away from the helicarrier, fast. He wouldn’t think about any of this again. None of it was his doing. He wasn’t to blame, and he wasn’t going to return Sitwell’s calls any longer. Hydra could find someone else to yank around. He was Shield.

***

Chapter Text

***

The first time Tony had woken up on the floor, in the paws of a huge lion, he’d taken a moment to consider how insane his life had become. Now, days later, the novelty had worn off, but he was still sure it was the weirdest, most comfortable, place he’d ever slept.

Sure, he’d woken up in some strange places, naked, but this was different. Steve was like a huge, fluffy heater, and Tony took a long stretch, not surprised when he got hit in the face with a big paw.

Some men would’ve panicked, but Starks were made of iron, and fluffy paws were nothing. He rubbed his eyes, sat up, and glanced at Steve.

Those blue eyes should be against the law. Tony reminded himself again that he was at least ten years older. He had to be mature, responsible. In a blink, Steve Switched, and instead of running away, he curled around Tony and leaned him back against his very broad chest.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to resist.” Steve was very naked, warm, and Tony had to fight back a throaty moan. “I heard that.”

“I’m too old for you,” Tony croaked, wishing he meant it.

“I was more concerned about Pepper.” Steve nuzzled at Tony’s neck. “Tell me to stop.”

Tony couldn’t breathe, and he could feel his heart pounding. “Pepper and I aren’t a thing, and I’m not saying you should stop.” He put his hands back over his head, found some skin, and tugged at him. “But we gotta find a bed. I’m old.”

Steve laughed and bit him gently on the neck, making him gasp, before getting to his feet and taking Tony up with him. “I know where a bed is.”

“Good, because I’m not even sure what my name is.” Tony stumbled after him, hand clutched tightly. The bed finally appeared, and Tony yanked his clothes off one instant before Steve was on him. They kissed and groped almost frantically, rubbing and stroking. Tony felt like he couldn’t breathe, but he was gasping with every breath.

“You feel so good,” Steve said, moving against him. His cock was like a hot bar of iron, and Tony wished he had more than two hands. Steve arched his back, and the skin under Tony’s hands became fur. Tony had the idea he should stop, but he didn’t care. Fur or skin, it was Steve.

Steve threw his head back and roared at the ceiling.

Hot liquid spurted against Tony’s thighs, and he grabbed his cock, following Steve’s orgasm with a fantastic one of his own. He shut his eyes and felt like he was passing out, one hand twisting into Steve’s fur.

Breath finally came back to him, and he was groggy as he looked up. “Switch, so I can kiss you properly.”

Steve ducked his head, and they were kissing. When Tony turned him loose, Steve whispered, “I’m an animal.”

“No, you’re a Feline. It happens.” Tony had read all the research, poor as it was. He stroked Steve’s face and kissed him gently. “I didn’t care, and I don’t care.”

Steve shuddered all over. “I could’ve scratched you, hurt you!” But he wasn’t leaving the bed, just hovering over him.

“You’d never do that. You’ll gain greater control, if we do a lot of this, and I hope we do.” Tony couldn’t resist a smirk. “Let’s shower, and I might regain feeling in my legs.”

Steve shook his head, and they went to shower together. Tony pulled Steve’s face down to his own, kissing him over and over again. “Steve,” he muttered, not even sure how to finish that sentence.

“I’ll work on it,” Steve whispered, clutching him.

***

Chapter Text

***

Putting aside all the confusion from his conversation with Coulson, Clint was enjoying the trip. It was nice that it was just them, no one else talking or stinking up the place. Coulson always smelled good, not like garlic, or lies, or hatred.

Nearly everyone in Shield was great, but there were a few, mostly guys on the Strike teams, who really hated him. He didn’t understand it, and he was careful to stay out of their way, not because he was scared, but because he knew he could kill them if pushed.

Most of the agents were good people, but there were a couple that he didn’t like the smell of, like Sitwell. Coulson and Sitwell were great friends, and Clint did his best never to be alone with him. He felt guilty about it, but he’d learned the hard way to listen to his instincts.

“I’m going to put down on the beach.” It was damn odd being in charge. “I don’t want to antagonize Stark by landing on his helipad.”

“I agree.” Coulson nodded. “The airport’s too far. Good call.”

Clint fought down a blush at the praise. He liked it far too much. Pushing his back into the seat, he kept his eyes on his instruments. “If Cap is in a swimsuit, please don’t drool,” he teased.

Coulson grinned. “I’ll probably faint.”

“Probably.” Clint wouldn’t promise to catch him. The only decision left was whether he’d meet Captain America in his skin or his fur, and Clint wasn’t sure what was the better choice. If Coulson paraded down the beach with Clint on a leash, Captain America might pick up and leave for another continent.

“I’m hoping he still doesn’t think we’re Hydra. There’s no telling what Stark has told him,” Coulson grumbled, voice low.

“Stark wouldn’t lie like that.” Clint was sure of it. He glanced down at the case near Coulson’s seat. “What’s the collar look like?” He hoped it wasn’t black.

“Silver, shiny, and made of titanium. I’ll have to attach it manually. It won’t slide over his head because it has some sort of expanding factor that has to be inititalized.” Coulson frowned. “It’s not heavy. Agent Sitwell says that it’s loaded with all the newest tracking technology, even a camera.”

Now Clint was frowning. He didn’t like the sound of all that. “Does mine have a tracking device?”

Coulson didn’t look at him. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t a lie. “But you have one in your shoulder, which you agreed was necessary when we hired you.”

“I remember,” Clint growled. He wasn’t sure why a tracker in his collar made his hackles go up, but he was sure now that there was one. Coulson said nothing else, and Clint found a little more speed by dropping a few thousand feet. “Rogers has come late to his fur. He could have no control, and because of that, he could be very dangerous.”

“He was in perfect control in the video.”

“Not physical control, but control over when he Switches, and he might exhibit real aggressiveness toward us, especially if he feels pushed.” Clint had a feeling he wasn’t convincing him. “You need to be careful. He could kill you on accident.”

“He won’t.” Coulson’s faith in Captain America shined in his voice. Clint sighed. It was a good thing he was in charge. Coulson tossed him a grin. “I brought my cards.”

“You’re staying on the quinjet.” Clint dug a protein bar out of his pocket and opened it with his teeth. He ate it in two bites before getting out another one. He had a feeling he was going to need them.

***

“We got incoming,” Tony said, pulling his sunglasses down to peer down the beach. “Dollars to donuts that it’s Shield.”

Steve stopped licking his paws and sat up to glare at the small plane. This was his beach time, and he didn’t appreciate the interruption. They should’ve had the decency to come to the front door. Here he was without pants.

“Promise me you’ll eat them.” Tony got up and patted him on the head, not smelling worried in the least.

Growling, Steve moved in front of him. He might gnaw on them, a little, if they threatened Tony, and if a squad poured out of that plane, all bets were off. They watched the ramp come down, and the sight of a middle-aged man in a suit and sunglasses made Tony groan, but it was the streak of a cheetah that made Steve roar.

Without thinking, he was running, chasing through the sand, stretching out to his greatest length. The cheetah’s tail lashed and he was going another direction, like a rudder on a ship. Steve overshot the turn, face-planted into some sand, and surged up with a roar.

The cheetah made some crazy chirping noises, not even a real roar, and Steve was after him again. This time, he knew he was overmatched in speed, so he cut a corner, jumped over a sand dune, and made sure Tony was okay.

Tony, and the man in the suit, were sitting under the umbrella, sipping a drink. Which wasn’t right, if this was the enemy. The cheetah blazed by, and Steve trotted that way, getting the scent of him in his nose.

It seemed important that they’d send another Feline to talk to him, but that made Steve wonder if the cheetah was here under duress. Was the fella in the suit his owner? Steve broke off his chase and bolted back to Tony.

“Steve Rogers, this is Agent Coulson,” Tony said, waving his drink in the agent’s general direction. Steve jerked to a stop in a flurry of sand, looming over him, not quite sure whether to growl or roar, and ending up with a healthy grumble. “Coulson, meet the only American Lion in existence.”

The cheetah slammed into Steve’s backend, and Steve whirled, swatting him. Rolling with the blow, the cheetah came right back at him, and Steve was done playing. He put the cheetah down hard.

“Don’t hurt him!” Coulson’s shout was loud and panicked.

Steve had never intended to hurt him, and he dipped his head to give the cheetah a proper head washing. His ears were ridiculously dirty. The cheetah made pathetic noises, and Steve ignored them, holding him flat with his weight.

“Sit down, Agent.” Tony drawled the words. “And for shit’s sake, put your gun away before your throat is ripped out.”

“Somehow, I hadn’t quite understood how large he is.” Coulson sounded shaky so Steve nuzzled the cheetah before beginning to lick him again. One more ear, and he’d have the job done.

“Yeah, he’s big. Eats more than you can imagine.” Tony slurped his drink.

One sniff of fear from him, and Steve would start biting, maybe. He was a bit afraid that Humans would taste horrible, so maybe he’d stick to slashing. Steve probably should have thought this through earlier, but he’d been distracted by Tony’s… everything.

The cheetah squirmed away and mewled pathetically as he slipped over to sit by Coulson. He pulled his mouth off his teeth, but Steve had the feeling that was a smile, of sorts.

“Captain Rogers, this is Agent Barton, of Shield, and our only Feline,” Coulson said. “This is his first mission as lead agent, so please don’t clean his ears again. It goes in my report.”

Barton flopped down and covered his face with his paws. Tony barked a laugh, and Steve really wanted to pounce on his flipping tail.

Tony snapped open the cooler, and Steve whipped his head around, catching the steak easily. Another flew towards the cheetah, and Steve reluctantly let him catch it.

“Lunch is served. Now.” Tony’s voice hardened. “What’s your plan? Tranquilizers? A sniper?”

“Barton is our best sniper, and he’s already here.” Coulson shrugged. “I thought we’d discuss what happened, and how best to proceed for all parties, but, like I said, Barton has the lead here.”

Steve nearly laughed at the clear look of disgust on the cheetah’s face. Barton blew out a big breath, got to his paws, and started for their plane. Curious, Steve followed him.

“Don’t get kidnapped, ya big lug!” Tony’s shout followed him.

Barton didn’t dash, but he was moving, and Steve caught up with him inside the plane just in time to see him Switch. Steve sat down and watched him get dressed.

“Okay, first, you’re huge.” Barton was shooting him glances but not meeting Steve’s eyes. “Thanks for not killing us.”

Steve nodded. He appreciated the courtesy. It was tempting to Switch but he didn’t want to be naked in front of either of them. Clothes could wait until they went inside. Barton sat down, put on his boots, and sighed.

“It’s great to meet you, Captain, but I’m sorry you’re a Feline. Your life will never be yours again.” Barton smelled very sincere. “But, that said, the best place to be is Shield. They can protect you from the government.”

Instantly angry at that bit of honesty, Steve turned and galloped back to Tony, not caring if Barton was left behind.

“Steve?” Tony got to his feet in a hurry. “Do I need to deploy my drones?” He was serious.

Chuffing, Steve headed inside. He needed his skin, and clothes, and then they’d talk, but his gut was telling him that this was over. His time with Tony was finished.

***

Chapter Text

***

Tony watched him disappear into the house, and if he knew his shy lion, he’d gone to put on some clothes.

“Let’s take this inside.” Tony got to his feet, making sure his drink was in his hand and starting for the house. “It’s near lunch, and Steve is always hungry.”

“Agent Barton is also.” Coulson shot his cuffs and picked up his briefcase before following him. Tony noticed that Barton was right at Coulson’s heels by the time they reached the breakfast nook. It was more of a dining room, but Pepper had insisted it wasn’t proper enough to be anything but a nook.

“Told you I was faster,” Barton said, and Tony didn’t need to look to know he was grinning.

“Did you tell Barton that Steve could shred him, probably without trying?” Tony made sure he got his favorite chair. Coulson and Barton took the seats opposite him, sharing a small look first, and Coulson nodded.

“I might’ve mentioned it.” Coulson was making a show of not looking everywhere at once. “How much does he weigh?”

“A lot.” It wasn’t as if Tony had put him on a scale. He made a hand motion that would silence Jarvis, just in case he was feeling chatty. He opened his mouth to threaten them with death if they even so much as looked at Steve wrong when his people started delivering plates and food, so he swallowed it down, like a good host should.

Barton was practically wiggling with joy at the sight of the food, and Tony nearly smiled. Felines were always hungry. Coulson shot the coffee an approving look, and about the time Tony was gearing up to snarl at them again, Steve made it to the table.

“Thanks, Greta and Jim,” Steve said, and of course he knew their names. Tony also noticed the earnest khakis and plaid shirt. Yes, he was probably going to have to blast someone today. Steve gave Barton a small smile, which he didn’t deserve. “You’re really fast.”

“Clocked at seventy-four miles per hour once.” Barton glanced around the table. “I can eat, right?”

“And that there is why Steve won’t be going anywhere,” Tony growled. “Eat, Barton, before your owner says no.”

Coulson cleared his throat. “Agent Barton is technically the property of Shield, but he’s an agent, and he can make his own decisions.”

“You really believe that?” Tony drained his whiskey and glared down at his food. He wasn’t hungry, just faintly nauseous. This was Steve, and he couldn’t be counted on to look out for his best interests.

“I’m gonna eat.” Clint tucked into his food, and Steve did the same.

After a moment, Coulson joined them, and Tony considered stomping down to his lab to put his suit on, just in case. Steve gave him a nudge. “Tony, you should eat. You skipped breakfast, remember?”

Unable to argue with that level of sincerity, Tony stabbed some fruit. Barton’s eyes were flicking from person to person. “Every Feline is the property of the government. It’s just a matter of who owns you after they sell you.” He took a small breath. “I was lucky to land at Shield. I could’ve ended up sold to a private dealer, and trust me, you don’t want that.”

“The government can’t sell me.” Steve had his jaw set. Coulson opened his mouth to say something, and Steve stopped him with nothing but a raised finger. “Stark Industries has a previous claim, dating from the 40s.”

Coulson and Barton exchanged several looks. Tony hated this, hated the whole damn thing. “Agent Coulson,” he drawled.

“That will have to be decided by a court. Until such time, Captain, the government will have the right to send you to the Center for Feline Control.” Coulson’s face was expressionless. “Shield follows the law.”

“Steve,” Tony said, low and furious. “Eat them.”

Barton swallowed hard, eyes wide. “We’re just saying that Shield can give you a measure of protection while the case goes to court because you were assigned to the SSR during the war.”

“The Army is going to want me,” Steve said in a voice near a growl. “Are you going to keep them away, as well?”

Coulson nodded. “We can.”

Anger curled in Tony’s stomach. They were going to take him, and Steve was going because he obeyed the law. It was enough to make Tony want to build satellites so he could overthrow the government. That would have to wait, though. They had a plan. “My dad founded Shield from the ruins of the war. Steve belongs here.”

“We know you want him for sex,” Barton snarled, and Steve was suddenly just on his feet, right in Barton’s face, a growl coming from his throat.

Coulson’s hand went towards his gun again. “No one sexually exploits Felines at Shield,” he spat.

Steve slowly sat back down, but he didn’t take his eyes off Barton’s face. Tony eased out a long breath. “Insults aside. What’s your offer?”

Barton glanced at Coulson. “Captain America should be at Shield. We can protect him, train him, and the courts will agree that he belongs there.”

“In other words, you’ll buy me.” Steve went back to eating.

Neither Shield agent replied, and Tony ran through a number of scenarios, but he had a feeling he knew how this was going to end. “Steve, we can still fly overseas to a country where Felines have rights.”

Slowly, Steve lowered his head. “We both know I can’t do that.”

“You could, but you won’t.” Tony would have to accept it and make his own decisions. Going back to New York and washing his hands of the matter wasn’t possible. “We knew this would happen.”

“We did.” Steve finished his plate and pushed it away. “I’ll go pack.”

“We have everything you’ll need,” Coulson said quickly. “Even your shield.”

Barton got to his feet. “But I’m sure you have things you want to take. I can help.”

The two Felines went off together, and Tony turned to glare. “Proud of yourself?”

Coulson’s face showed no emotion. “Agent Barton has been happy at Shield.”

“Really? No one mistreats him?” Tony laced his voice with derision. “Have you checked your privilege lately?”

“I did on the way here.” Coulson abandoned the table, going to stare out the window. Tony finished his whiskey. This wasn’t over.

***

Clint leaned against the doorway, just watching. “I can smell him on you.”

“Absolutely none of your business.” Steve started putting clothes on the bed.

“It is if he’s abusing you.” Clint wasn’t scared of the big lion, but a level of cautiousness was only smart. “Very few, damn few, Felines enter into sexual relationships without being forced. I’m sure you’re grateful to him.”

Steve turned, standing very straight. “Agent Barton, please stop.”

It could be discussed again later, so Clint shrugged. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this – it’s gonna suck. Everyone is afraid of you.”

“They were during the war, as well, before I was a big cat.” Steve glanced up at the ceiling. “Jarvis, I need a rucksack, please.”

“I’ll have one brought to you.”

“Who’s Jarvis?” Clint thought the level of surveillance in this house had to be fairly high. He had read everything Shield had on Tony Stark, and with that guy, anything was possible. Stark was a shitshow, and Steve was probably the only person on the planet who didn’t know it.

“The computer who runs the house.” Steve was folding his shirts for the second time.

“Look,” Clint said, moving closer and seeing the flared nostrils. “Do you have your Switching under control? Have you had a stress Switch yet?”

Steve’s blue eyes were intense. “I’m under control, and Tony told me about them, but I haven’t had one.”

“And Stark’s telling you the truth?” Clint doubted it. “He smells like a liar.”

“You don’t know him.” Steve was right back in Clint’s face, and Clint was beginning to think that Steve really liked the guy. “Tony had me do the research myself, and I think I’d know if I’d flopped over.”

Clint couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Yeah, you’d know. People are going to go crazy over your blue eyes. There’ll be genetic testing, blood work, all kinds of shit.”

Whatever Steve was going to say was interrupted by a knock on the door, and one of Stark’s employees handed Steve a duffle bag. Steve thanked her and packed quickly. “I don’t work for Shield.”

The low growl that accompanied those words made the small hairs on the back of Clint’s neck stand up. He still managed a rough grin. “Not yet, but you will.”

Steve said nothing, just zipping the bag and heading out the door. Clint followed, and he felt like a heel. Whatever Steve had found with Stark - even if it wasn’t real - it was over.

***

Chapter Text

***

Coulson didn’t like the wild look in Stark’s eyes. This extraction was headed south in Coulson’s expert opinion.

“Don’t worry, Stark.” Coulson used the tone saved for people wearing bombs as vests. “Shield will take care of him. I promise.”

Stark fiddled with his drink, refusing to look up. “He doesn’t understand how politics, media, and clandestine organizations all work together to screw over nice guys, and trust me, Steve Rogers is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. Most of the time, I’m fairly sure he’s not real.”

“But you took him to your bed anyway.” Coulson knew it. The look on Stark’s face was possessive, even jealous, like a lover. “You do realize that you were coercing him?”

“It was his idea,” Stark growled. He lurched to his feet, threw his glass the length of the room to smash into a fireplace, and snarled out some curse words. “No, I won’t let you break him, and you will. You won’t mean to do it, but Shield is full of jerks that will take great pleasure in telling exactly Steve how little Felines are worth.”

“Why would I listen to a bunch of jerks?” Steve dropped his duffle bag and caught Stark by the arm in a gentle move that belied his strength. “Go pack a bag, Tony. I’m not going without you.”

“I am a consultant. I should… consult.” Tony stepped closer to him. “Can we please just go to Sweden?”

“No. If I’m going to change the world, I’m going to start here.”

Coulson could practically see flags flying behind him. Watching him talk like that seemed like a religious experience. Clint leaned over and whispered, “Did you just swoon?”

“I think I might have,” Coulson said. There was no way he wanted Stark on the helicarrier during this process. Fury and Stark always fought like cats and dogs. “Captain, bringing Stark is a bit problematic.”

Steve turned on him so fast that Clint stepped in front of him. “You may not eat him.” He narrowed his eyes. “The tie will get stuck in your throat.”

It was Stark who laughed. “Steve, I am always a problem. You need to accept that.” He pointed at Coulson’s briefcase. “Let’s see it.”

Coulson appreciated his bodyguard, but he’d in no way felt threatened. This mission was going to fail or succeed right now. He picked up the case and popped it open. Stark sucked in a breath.

“You really think that hunk of metal can stop him?” Stark sneered.

“No,” Clint said in a gentle tone. “It’s to make Humans feel like they’re in control, when they’re not.”

Watching Steve’s eyes, Coulson waited. Clint wore his collar to humor the Humans. If even half the things Coulson knew about Captain America were true, he wouldn’t be doing that. Coulson took a breath, trying to find words.

“It’s wrong, and I hate it, but it’s the law, so we obey in public where civilians can be frightened.” Coulson saw Steve swallow. “It’s light, not restrictive.”

“Also loaded with trackers and cameras from the looks of it,” Stark said, reaching, but Coulson took it out before that happened. Stark wasn’t finished. “That leash is offensive.”

“But easy to bite in half if you need to get away,” Clint said. He shrugged. “Want me to show you mine?”

Finally, Steve shook his head. “No.” He blew out a big breath. “I just…” His shoulders slumped.

Coulson had no idea what to say. He glanced at Clint, hoping he had something. Clint took the collar from him. “Cap, until things change, we have to let it happen.” And he put it around his neck, initialized it, and Switched all before Coulson could stop him.

The collar hung loose, made for the larger lion, and Coulson rubbed his face. He didn’t think this was a good idea.

“Sir, I have analyzed the collar, and it is prudent to remove it immediately.”

Stark and Steve moved, but Coulson dropped to his knees, grabbing for Clint’s head. Clint’s clothes were all rucked up, ridiculous, and Coulson snapped, “Switch. Now!”

The cheetah vanished, and Clint scrabbled at the collar. It was already too small to get over his head. Steve wrapped his hands around it, trying it keep it from contracting further. “Tony!”

“I’m going!” Stark bolted from the room, and Coulson pulled Clint into his lap.

“What did you do, you mangy cheetah?” Coulson whispered, heart twisting with fear.

“Sorry, boss.” Clint started choking, and all that was keep him from dying was Steve’s hands.

“I can’t break it!” Steve snarled. “It’s getting even smaller!”

Clint’s face started to turn purple even as Steve’s hands dug into his neck. Coulson didn’t imagine the sound of breaking bones. “Clint!”

“That was my hands,” Steve growled.

“Shit. Shit. Shit!” Stark practically fell on them, hands full of tools. “Hang on.”

Coulson tightened his grip and prayed Stark knew what he was doing. Going home without Clint wasn’t possible. Clint’s eyes were desperate, and he whispered, “Love you.”

A horrible noise erupted from Steve, and Stark yelled, “Shut your eyes!”

The flash could be seen behind screwed-up eyelids, and suddenly they all fell apart. Coulson put his ear to Clint’s mouth, listening for his breath. “He’s not breathing!”

“Get him flat, start CPR. Jarvis!” Stark took control, and Coulson, who prided himself on being in control in every situation fell to pieces. Stark pushed Steve back. “No. Sit!”

Steve cradled his hands, and Coulson shook himself. He had to help. He loved him. “Check his airway.”

“You breathe for him. I’ll do chest compressions. Jarvis, help us with the timing.” Stark kept them all going until Clint took a hard, rasping breath. “Jarvis, doctor?”

“He is ten minutes out.”

Coulson helped Clint into the recovery position. “Breathe, breathe, breathe. I can’t lose you.”

Clint kept breathing, chest heaving.

“Captain?” Coulson managed to look at him.

“I’m okay, or I will be.” Steve’s hands still had the imprint from that damn collar.

Stark shoved his finger in Coulson’s face. “Which of you bastards tried to murder Captain America?”

The truth of that shocked its way to Coulson’s core. Clint tugged on Coulson until he leaned over, and in a ragged whisper, Clint said, “Collar smells like Sitwell.”

Shit.

Shit. The reason for Sitwell’s smug face became obvious, and Coulson nearly full-body flinched. They’d been friends since they came up through the ranks together. But Sitwell had pushed the collar, insisted on it. Coulson remembered that Clint had never liked him. Felines could smell lies, or even deception.

And Coulson would’ve killed his hero. The man he’d idolized his entire life. He jerked his phone out of his pocket and sent a 911 to a cell phone number that only he knew. Four seconds later, his phone rang.

“What the fuck, Cheese?”

“The collar was a trap.” Coulson felt as if he couldn’t breathe. “Clint nearly died. Captain America’s hands are shattered.”

Stark jerked the phone away and smashed it on the floor. “I’m taking you to Stark Tower. Don’t make me hurt anyone!” And he would, too. Stark was predictable. “Jarvis, get us on the road as soon as Barton is ready.”

“Steve, stop doing that.” Stark grabbed him by the wrists. “Hold still and don’t Switch!”

Staring down at the shattered phone, Coulson intoned, “It was Sitwell.” He knew it, and he hated it. “God damn it.”

***

Sitwell used the collar to eavesdrop. The cameras were dark, but audio was clear. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. One of the Felines was dead, but most likely it was Barton, which wasn’t terrible.

But they’d try again once Coulson delivered Captain America to the helicarrier. They’d scurry back to the safety of Fury. He was sure of that.

Maybe. If he was careful, he could… and he nodded. Using his private cell phone, he sent a text off to his personal strike team.

They’d do the cleanup at Stark’s place, and the blame could be firmly place on Coulson’s shoulders for that.

He smiled.

***

Chapter Text

***

“I can fly,” Clint whispered, ignoring the fact he’d been carried to the quinjet on a stretcher.

“Stop talking,” Coulson snapped. “Lie there and try to imagine all the paperwork this is going to rain down on us.”

Clint groaned. They made a makeshift pad for him on the floor of the quinjet, and the doctor gave him one last look. “I’ve done all I can. Have him looked at again in New York, and an x-ray or two is my recommendation.”

“Thanks, doc. Now, scram.” Tony was strapping himself in to the pilot’s seat. “Steve, so help me God if you don’t sit there and behave, I’m going to cancel steak night.”

Steve shot him a glare. Coulson helped him buckle, splinted hands out of the way, made sure the body strap had Clint down, and then hurried to the co-pilot position. “If I know Sitwell, and I do, he’ll be sending a strike team. Let’s move.”

“You are very bossy.” Tony got the engines started. “Wish I’d flown one of these before, but how hard can it be?”

Clint considered forcing his body up. He wanted to live. Steve gave Clint’s leg a nudge. “Don’t worry. Starks can fly anything.”

That was reassuring, a little at least. Clint swallowed very carefully, hiding the pain. His neck wasn’t broken, or so the doc said, but he had deep tissue bruising, and he was damn lucky his trachea was intact. Steve – Captain America – had saved him, breaking his hands in the effort.

“Sir, may I suggest—”

The words were cut off by the engines roar, and Clint was glad for the strap or he would’ve flown up to the ceiling. Steve grinned, eyes bright, and Coulson let out a yell. Clint wished he could shout as they tore away from the beach.

“Holy hell!” Stark yelled. “Needs better stabilizers!”

Clint actually agreed with that. Even taking deep breaths hurt, so he tried to breathe softly. He flinched in surprise when Steve nudged him again. “Okay?” he asked, yelling to be heard.

Clint managed a rough smile. There was a lot swirling in his brain. He was so full of random emotions that he was grateful Coulson couldn’t smell them. Steve could, but he seemed like a good guy.

Coulson knew the truth. Knew that Clint loved him. At some point, they would have words, so many words. Coulson remembered everything, and he’d never let all this slide. Clint had done a fool-ass thing, again, almost died from it, and the only good thing was they hadn’t actually murdered Captain America.

Just broken his hands.

If Clint could’ve slunk off to hide, he would’ve, but breathing hurt, and he was starting to think that maybe Coulson cared about him. Really cared. And wouldn’t that be something.

***

“Sir, I have instructed the staff to retreat to the safe room as there is a strike team advancing up the beach.”

“Did you lock down the shop? Call the police?” Tony had known all this could happen, but what he hadn’t predicted was how angry he’d be.

“Of course, sir.” Jarvis sounded slightly insulted. “I also deployed a round of drones, just to amuse myself.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite. Send all video to Fury’s phone, and I know Pepper has his number.” Tony had been jealous, not that he actually wanted the number. “Make sure we have a doctor waiting for us when I land on Stark Tower.”

“Miss Potts is making arrangements, and I believe she wants to yell at you.”

“Wouldn't expect anything less.” Tony grinned, glancing over at Coulson, who was a bit white-knuckled. No matter if he did like Coulson and his cheetah sidekick, Shield was still mostly assholes, and this whole debacle was proof of that. He leveled off, snapped on the auto-pilot, and went back to check on Steve.

“Auto-pilot,” he said to Steve’s confused look. “How’s the hands?”

“Hurt.” Steve shrugged. “I hate it when the bones snap back together.”

Tony hated that now, too. “Hang on.” He went back up front. “Coulson, are there MREs on board this tinker toy?”

Coulson nodded. “Good idea.”

“I’ll fly. You go feed them.” Tony enjoyed every second of watching Coulson blush. He strapped himself back in and upped their speed, pushing the small craft. Both of the Felines needed rest, and he had a burning desire to scream at Fury.

***

Coulson’s ten-year-old self was hardly able to think as he located the crate of MREs and snatched two that looked likely to please. He had to take a breath to calm himself and prioritize. First, he checked on Clint, who was asleep because he had a gift for sleeping anywhere, any time. Then, he went to sit with Captain America.

“MRE,” Coulson said, hoping his voice hadn’t actually squeaked. He expertly got them heated up and spooned up a bit. “Captain?”

“This is undignified.” Steve’s stomach growled, and he opened his mouth. “If these splints weren’t so big, I could manage it.”

“Let’s humor Stark. He gets noisy when people he cares about get hurt.” Coulson knew that very well. He quickly got the food in him, not stopping until both of the MREs were gone. Some part of him would be embarrassed about this forever, and the other part was gloating.

Going to Stark Tower was a good compromise. Coulson didn’t like their odds on the helicarrier if Sitwell came after them. They would definitely have the advantage in numbers, though Coulson liked to think he’d have his supporters. And so would Hawkeye, even if he’d deny it.

Steve abandoned his chair and went to lie down by Clint. Coulson got him a blanket, and he was a little surprised when Steve threw an arm over him, but Felines were very tactile. And Captain America was protective.

“He okay?” Stark asked the instant Coulson had his headset on.

“I think he’s tired. His body is working hard to heal.” Coulson hoped so, at least. “From everything I’ve read, he’ll bounce back fast.”

“He wasn’t a Feline then.” Stark had a point. “He eats like you can’t believe.”

“I saw the food deliveries for your house in Malibu. I can imagine.” Coulson was still proud of Clint for knowing that. A good agent didn’t overlook details. “I’m sure there will be food when we arrive?”

“Jarvis will put on a spread. He's fond of Steve.” Stark had his phone out, but he had one eye on the quinjet. His style of flying was much less engaged than Clint’s, and Coulson would never admit it made him nervous. “Cats, huh?”

“How many Felines have you known?” Coulson was curious, nothing more.

“None.” Stark glanced over at him. “You?”

“Just Agent Barton.” Coulson decided to tell a bit of truth. “Director Fury turned up with him one day. Nothing in his file about his life before he joined Shield.”

“You mean, before he was sold to Shield,” Stark snapped.

“Like I said, he joined. He had a choice. I’m sure of it.” Coulson believed that. Fury was a staunch supporter of Feline rights. “No more collars,” he spat, surprising himself. He prided himself on keeping his cool, but this mission had blown it to shreds. “Ever.”

“I’m going to do a soft landing on Stark Tower and then send this on to the helicarrier empty.” Stark sounded as if it was not a problem there’d be no pilot. “Don’t spill the beans. We’ll see what happens.”

***

Chapter Text

***

“What do you mean that’s all?”

Rodney winced around the eyes at Zelenka’s pitch. “It was a pandemic fic!” he roared back at him. “You know, authors got COVID! They died! Their brains melted, and they never wrote again!”

“Is fanfic written by authors?” Sheppard mused and pushed his chair back on two legs. “Or are they writers? Or just-”

“Shut up, John,” Rodney growled. Then he gestured wildly. “Of course they’re writers! It’s words!”

Zelenka gave a solemn nod. “I hope the writer isn’t dead.”

Silence fell at the table. Teyla sighed deeply. “So, we shall never know if Captain America married Tony Stark?”

“I’m more worried about Hawkeye!” Zelenka glared at everyone. “He’d been abused by Shield for years! Then they try to kill him!”

“Miko, you don’t have to raise your hand,” Rodney said, trying for his patient voice and missing it by the look on her face. “But, yes?”

“How did Mr. Stark fly to the house if he only had his suitcase armor. It has no flight capability?” She frowned. “Sir?”

Rodney shut his eyes so he didn’t roll them. Zelenka piped up, “It was different suit! I think the tags on this are all wrong. Clint and Coulson should be main pairing.”

“Oh, my God.” Rodney groaned. “Radek! Quit mooning over Hawkeye and focus on Captain America!”

Several people nodded. “We should see if it’s been updated at the next dial-in,” Cadman drawled. “It’s possible!” She defended her stupid idea.

“No.” Sheppard glared at all of them. “I’m not explaining to Caldwell and Weir why we’re all a bunch of simps for AO3 and Feline fanfic!”

It was terrible, but he had a point. Rodney sighed. “I agree. Too risky.” He’d send Harold Swift an email about it. That little fellow wouldn’t mind looking for them. He’d hide it in a long, rambling story about coding. Harold loved to code. “Anyway, Coulson was a tool.”

Zelenka surged to his feet, fight in his eyes, and Rodney grinned. He wasn’t worried. Sure enough, Miko made Zelenka sit down, and they seemed to be comparing notes. Rodney glanced at Sheppard, who had a furrowed brow.

“But how does this fit in the Avengers movie?” Sheppard pointed at Rodney. “Where are the aliens? And Loki?”

Rodney jumped to his feet. “We should watch the movie again!”

“Popcorn is running low.” Sheppard let his chair down and straightened with a long stretch. “I think they all died from a missile because Sitwell shot them down on approach.”

The table erupted into arguments, and Rodney grabbed Sheppard by the collar to drag him away before he was pummeled. “Now, you’ve done it.”

“It is reasonable.” Sheppard grinned at him. Rodney rolled his eyes. It was his fault for printing the damn story to bring to Atlantis before making sure it was complete. He’d run out of time. He’d also been hoping for spicy Feline with Robert Downing, Junior, but he’d gotten damn little of that.

“Chris Evans would make a great lion,” Rodney muttered. He hated abandoned WIPs. “Maybe I could trace the writer’s IP address next time we’re home and send them a strongly worded email.”

“Single space?”

“Multiple pages.” Rodney paused at the balcony to enjoy the sunset. “I mean, the pacing was problematic. The multiple POVs was irritating, and I highly doubt the circus would’ve sold Hawkeye. He was their headliner!”

“Fury stole him.” Sheppard grinned, putting his arm around him. “I liked the cuddling parts.”

“Furball,” Rodney whispered, stealing a kiss and wallowing in the heat of him. “Fury killed Sitwell, Tony and Steve lived happily ever after. The End.”

“Until the aliens showed up, and the Humans realized they need the fighting strength of the mighty Felines. Hawkeye and Captain America led a horde of them to victory. The slashing and biting were epic!” Sheppard grinned at him, eyes sparkling. “In gratitude, the Humans agreed to stop being assholes.”

“Okay, well, that just pushed it over the edge into the stupid. At least it wasn’t songfic.” Rodney shuddered at the idea. “The American Lion ideas were well-done. Of course, a Feline throwback could never happen.”

“Ridiculous,” Sheppard whispered, kissing him until the sun went down. “Show’s over. Did you say something about spicy parts?”

“I did.” Rodney quick-stepped towards their quarters. “We could ask Carson about it.” He should just make sure Carson read it. There’d be a lecture about Feline genetics for sure at the end of it. He swiped open the door, and Sheppard tackled him onto the bed, straddling him.

“So, if...” Sheppard blushed. “I was, um, to Switch during this, you would?” His question trailed away.

“John, you are you, whether skin, fur, or feathers. The writer got that right.” Rodney put his hand on Sheppard’s chest. “Just keep your pointy teeth away from my dick.”

“You never change, Rodney.” Sheppard kissed him. He didn’t argue with Rodney peeling the jacket off. “Our uniforms are a real cockblock.”

“We should go slow for a change.” Rodney tugged at Sheppard’s black T-shirt. “The gun’s gotta go.”

Sheppard leaned and kissed him, thrusting with his tongue and grinding on him. The gun did get in the way, and the knife was a problem. Rodney rapped him on the forehead. “I need nakedness.”

Growling, Sheppard got off, and they stripped together. Rodney didn’t go for sexy. He went for speed. Neither of them took out their earbuds. That was a lesson hard learned after John had to run out the door in his fur with Rodney right behind completely naked and Zelenka screeching his head off. Working on Atlantis was like that.

Usually, Rodney was tired enough he let Sheppard take the lead, but tonight, he needed to touch. He nudged Sheppard down flat on his stomach and straddled him, ignoring Sheppard’s chuff of impatience. Sliding his hands across Sheppard’s shoulders, he started rubbing, looking for knots to ease.

“I’ll give you ten hours to stop that,” Sheppard said with a long groan, going boneless. Rodney kissed him between the shoulder blades, not stopping his hands. Atlantis dimmed the lights, and Rodney spared no inch on Sheppard’s mangy hide, touching all of him. Felines were very tactile, and that was easy to forget with all the running and screaming they did around here.

“Feel good?” Rodney asked.

“More, please.” Sheppard groaned, somehow getting flatter on the bed. Rodney scooted back so he could massage Sheppard’s butt. Strong strokes made him groan, but it wasn’t long before Rodney had an idea. He let go of him, waited a long two seconds, and gently tickled him right above his tailbone, where his tail would be.

“Rodney!” Sheppard arched, and the man underneath him unfurled into a mountain lion, who twisted up and grabbed him with his paws to lick him on the mouth.

“Gah!” Rodney pushed the big head away, expecting Sheppard to pounce on him, but the big cat just stretched out again. Making sure he wasn’t sitting on something delicate, Rodney put his hands back to work, petting more than rubbing.

Sheppard’s eyes shut and his purr ramped up to its loudest. Rodney smiled, thinking that was the best sound in the world, or any world. Digging in his fingertips, he made sure not to miss a spot.

Slowly, Rodney sunk down, focusing on Sheppard’s face, scrubbing into ears. Sheppard looked like a pile of furry bliss, and Rodney shut his eyes, just touching him. It wasn’t a surprise when Sheppard yowled, but the hot liquid splattering on Rodney’s legs was a bit of shock. Before Rodney could say a word, Sheppard Switched and slid down to swallow Rodney’s dick into his hot mouth.

“Aw, geez,” Rodney said, but there’d been a lot of touching, and he orgasmed much faster than he’d like. Seeing Sheppard’s smug smile made Rodney tug him by the hair. “Okay, okay!”

“Always fun.” Sheppard grinned and kissed his way up until they were wrapped together again. “Thanks, Rodney.”

Not knowing what to say was not a problem Rodney ever had, but he simply nodded, needing a minute to get his brain back together. “Was it different in your fur?” He blushed from asking.

Sheppard kissed him first. “Yes. And no.”

Rodney laughed softly, and he heard Sheppard snore before he fell asleep.

***