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Chapter Text

“Landing in five.”

The jet, seemingly in response, bumped along the clouds, a slight downturn bringing a groan to Yelena’s lips. It felt like she had just started to relax. Bucky had zoned out in the first five minutes of their flight, silent and staring at the wall like a parachute was going to leap off it and attack him, but the others had been fidgeting and squawking the whole way. Bob, still not a fan of heights nor tiny metal boxes in the sky, had fallen asleep in his seat just ten minutes ago, after Ava and Walker’s two and a half hour argument finally met its end. Even Alexei found it in himself to sit still, too engrossed in the “Blackjack for Dummies” book he’d bought in “preparation for their mission.”

After three hours of nonstop noise, Yelena finally got some peace and quiet, and of course they were going to land. 

She bit back a sigh as a particularly big bump roused Bob from his nap, his arms flailing out and smacking Walker in the face.

“Jesus Bob, you know you can fly, right?” Walker huffed as he snapped out of whatever daze he had put himself into.

The plane dipped down, another bout of turbulence sending them up in their seats.

“I still wouldn’t want to be on this metal tin if it crashes and burns,” Ava said, kicking Walker from across the aisle. The plane shuddered again. “I wonder if our pilot’s trying to kill us.”

“Not helping,” Bob wheezed. He looked green. 

“If you’re going to throw up, do it in this bag,” Yelena said as she handed him their last paper bag, “or on Walker. Just not on me, okay?”

“Hey–” the plane bounced, and Walker’s voice was lost to the sound of turbulence. 

“This is easy landing,” Alexei said, slamming his book shut and tossing it onto his duffel bag. “Have you ever been on giant airship as it falls? It is wonderful. The landing was so fun! So exciting. Much cooler than this.”

Yelena smiled. It was pretty fun . 

They landed on the ground with an unceremonious thud that was decidedly less fun than spiraling out of the sky.  She recalled the former Avengers had fancy quinjets and planes, able to fly across the world in less than two hours and  land gracefully on rooftops and plains. Valentina and her many excuses had yet to procure them this kind of jet, instead offering them a ride that was only slightly faster and better than flying commercial.

“We’re here.” Bucky, breaking his staring contest with the wall, unbuckled from his seat and stood, swinging his metal arm as if to stretch.

Yelena and, based on their expressions, everyone else, had duh on the tips of their tongues, but they kept their mouths shut. It had been a little over a month since they officially became the New Avengers, and Yelena was pretty sure Bucky still wanted to arrest at least half of them. She wasn’t going to be the one to antagonize him. 

When the plane door dropped open, the bright sun revealed they had successfully chased the sunset west and would not be spared the insufferable heat of the desert. Yelena tugged at her “I <3 NEW YORK” T-shirt, for once grateful she wasn’t wearing full body armor. Her suitcase was full of similar campy tourist clothes. It was the kind of stuff she’d always wanted to wear on a vacation because, for once in her life, she actually was on one.

“Isn’t this counterintuitive?” Bucky had protested, sitting still in his chair while the others around the conference table shifted awkwardly.

“We’re no longer shadow operatives,” Ava added. “People will recognize us.”

“It’s not shadow ops if you’re just a tourist,” Valentina said. “It’s a tax write off for a vacation. By day, you’re just another sightseer, and by night, you’re upending the biggest black market ring in the world.”

“A vacation does sound nice,” Walker sighed, kicking his feet up on the table. “But Ava’s right, we’ll be raising red flags. They’ll bury their operations if anyone even sees our faces.”
“Not if you’re there to join them,” Valentina said. She leaned forward, and the only person that moved in  to listen was Alexei.  “The world doesn’t know what to think of you yet. Are you the good guys? The bad guys? The okay guys? We can use this reputation to our advantage.”

She slid a large black folder towards the center of the table, Bucky quickly swiping it. 

“They call themselves the Golden Swan,” Val continued. “They’re an underground super-soldier-serum producer that also runs one of the biggest super-soldier fighting rings in the world. They market it as two separate businesses. Their fighting ring is secret but legal enough that it’s not our main target, but the prize pool for winning  isn’t just money. They have a stash of  tech and weapons scavenged from previous Avengers fights, assets that a new team of Avengers would need and the government needs to repossess. I can pull some strings and make sure you’re legit contenders. Find out where they're producing serum, how they're getting out into the streets, and recover some old Avengers waste. After that it’s a cakewalk. Blow the whole operation up, preferably without collateral, and enjoy your vacation.”

Yelena sighed, “and where are we going, exactly?”

“Fabulous Las Vegas!” Alexei exclaimed.

He stepped out onto the tarmac with his arms wide open, seemingly unbothered by the sweltering light that made his bald head extra shiny. He looked the most comfortable out of all of them, his Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts screaming oblivious middle-aged father with a midlife crisis on a vacation with his dysfunctional family . 

“We’re not there yet,” Walker said, dragging their suitcases behind him. His polo shirt was already collecting sweat stains under his armpits, but he didn't seem to notice..  “Where is there , again?”

“Val’s gotten us a suite at Caesars,” Bucky replied. He was the only one seemingly unfazed by the heat, his black T-shirt softly wafting in what seemed like an invisible breeze. Still, he looked uncomfortable. Judging by the way his nose scrunched, Yelena guessed it wasn't the heat. “She said it was courtesy of the US government but I’m pretty sure she’s still sucking up to us so we don’t throw her in federal prison.”

“I can almost forgive her for the plane, then,” Ava muttered. She tugged at her long sleeves, her new “casual” anti-dematerializing suit thinner than her agent one, but still black and thick. As she pulled at it, it stuck to her like chewed up gum.

Bob shuffled forward, his bag over his shoulder as he fanned himself with his sweater, his face already pink from the sun. Yelena thought about poking fun, but she didn’t have the energy to with her dry, sandpaper mouth. As the final cherry to their misery sundae, the plane left the moment they were off, blowing hot air in their direction and melting them a little further into the concrete.

“Asshole,” Ava said, flipping the sky off.

“Where is the limo I was promised,” Yelena puffed. “I need the air conditioning and the fancy little water bottles.”

She had hoped that saying the words would magically summon the limo to their location, but she was no Doctor Strange. Instead, she was granted seven more minutes out in the dry, dead heat of the private airport tarmac. When the limo did arrive, Yelena was relieved to find it looked nothing like Alexei’s: its exterior sleek and black, its interior cool and clean, and the driver perfectly sober. As she entered the luxury vehicle, she traced her fingers along the dark wooden trim before picking an ice cube out of the champagne tray.

No mysterious liquid inside a Big Gulp .

Yelena plopped herself down on one of the long, gloriously cool leather seats and stretched her legs out, the others climbing in after. Bob, now seated across from her, grabbed the bottom hem of his sweatshirt and held it open over a nearby AC vent.

“I’ve never been this far west… not counting Utah,” he said. “It’s drier than I thought it’d be.”

“Drink water,” Yelena advised and, in the same breath, snatched an expensive-looking bottle of vodka out of Alexei’s hand. “No alcohol yet. Where did you even find that?”

Alexei grunted something unintelligible before opening one of the complimentary mini water bottles. He downed it in a second, crushing the plastic beneath his fist like it was a scrap of paper. 

“There. Hydrated. Now–” he reached for the vodka again as Yelena pulled it further away.

“Do you think we’ll actually get some time to relax?” Ava asked, sprawling out like a cat. “A poolside cocktail sounds lovely.”

“Won’t you just phase through the pool?” Walker snorted.

“I’ll manage. You, on the other hand, might sink to the bottom due to the crushing weight of your giant ego.”

“At least I won’t float away because my head’s so full of air.”

Bucky coughed loudly, squatting down on the very back seat and cracking open his black folder with an authoritative snap. He pulled three paper packets out of one of its pockets, handing one to Ava, one to Yelena, and one to Alexei.

“We’re splitting up this mission,” Bucky began. Mister Business As Usual.

Yelena looked down at the paper. 

Objective: Gain Intel. 

Location: Golden Goose Spa, Lux Diamond.

“Spa, eh?” She grinned. “Does this include a back massage and fancy fruit water?”

The limo kicked forward.

“Golden Goose is an affiliate of Golden Swan,” Bucky said. “We don’t have information on where exactly they’re producing the super-soldier serum, so I need you to figure out where.”

“Why does she get a spa?” Ava asked, tsking as she flipped her packet over. “And I get stuck with Walker at some sweaty fight club.”

“You and Walker would be the least suspect going into a club like that. This was all in the last meeting we had with Val, were none of you paying attention?” 

“Eh,” Walker sighed, snatching the packet out of Ava’s hands. “If we wanted to be inconspicuous we’d send Bob in.”

“I could do it,” Bob said confidently. “People don’t notice me anyways so–”

“No.” Bucky rubbed the corners of his eyes with his index finger and thumb. “You’re the only one here for an actual vacation, and we need you on standby in case something goes wrong.”

“High Roller Infiltration! Sounds exciting! Who will I be infiltrating!” Alexei shouted, shaking his crumpled packet in his fist, clearly unaware of how his voice filled the entire limo.

“This was all in the meeting, and it’s in your packet,” Bucky grunted. He looked one exclamation away from throwing his arm at somebody. He sighed deeply before continuing, “You’re gaining intel. There are some international agents in town this week, and they’re not here for vacation. They’ll know where Golden Swan is selling the super-soldier serum, and we need to make sure they never get their hands on it.”

God forbid more John Walkers and Alexei Shostakovs start spawning around the planet . 

The stakes were high.

“Undercover work, I love it,” Alexei said seriously and then, without skipping a beat, he took on a midwestern, American accent: “They won’t recognize me as the Red Guardian if I blend in, eh?”

Yelena scrunched her nose. It’d been a while since she’d heard that voice. 

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Ava muttered.

“Just wear a suit and take a shower, you’ll be fine,” Yelena said. She folded her packet and shoved it into one of her pants pockets.

“Are you not going to read that?”

“I’ll read it later,” she scoffed, dismissively waving her hand. “Maybe by the pool. Per our arrangement with Valentina , we don’t have to start working until tomorrow morning, so why would I start now? I’m going to enjoy every minute of my break.”

She certainly needed it. She had years of shit, one good year, five missing years, and then even more years of shit. A couple of days of vacation with a healthy sprinkle of easy work was the reprieve she needed. Seemingly in agreement, Ava resnatched her packet out of Walker’s hands and shoved it into her bright pink tote bag, leaning back with her arms behind her head. 

They rolled into Caesar Palace’s dropoff zone without much else talk of work. There was plenty of chatter that Yelena opted to zone out of, only occasionally pointing to random landmarks enthusiastically like one of those cheesy tourists she’d always wanted to be.

“Look! The Eiffel tower!” She’d exclaim. Bob would  snap an inevitably blurry picture with his phone, and Ava would feign a surprised face and harshly jab Walker in the side to point out the window. 

“Wow, it really looks like someone threw up ancient Rome all over this place,” Yelena mused as she stared at the casino. “I mean, look at those statues, they’re very naked.”
“That’s Vegas for you,” Walker said, craning his neck to see out the window.

They clambered out of the limo and onto the black stone. Their driver briefly stepped out to help them unload their luggage before speeding off to what Yelena presumed to be higher paying customers. As they hauled their things towards the entrance, hardly anyone even acknowledged them, save for one couple standing right by the door. 

“Is that Bucky Barnes? We should get a picture.” The young woman whispered. 

“No, that’s obviously a bad costume. The beard is clearly fake, and the arm looks like plastic.” Her partner replied. “They’ll ask for money if we ask for a picture.”

Yelena scoffed at the idea. Anybody insane enough to impersonate Bucky Barnes for petty cash had a death wish. It was one thing to impersonate a former HYDRA operative, nevermind the Winter Soldier, but it was another thing to impersonate a former Avenger turned U.S. congressman turned “new” Avenger. She imagined some poor sop cosplaying Bucky catching a bullet because some idiot sop thought he was the real deal. 

Entering Caesars Palace, all agitation dissipated in the wonderfully cool air. She inhaled deeply, the scent of fake citrus and flowers almost enough to cover up the sticky smell of cigarette smoke. The lobby was even more ornate than the outside, one giant statue of the man himself smack dab in the middle of the circular marble lobby. Ornate wall paintings sat between intricate grecco designs, similar artwork engraved into the floor. She would’ve felt out of place in the opulence if the other tourists didn’t look equally sweaty and out of place. There were more old people than she thought there’d be.

When they reached the check-in counter, the concierge looked up at them, her eyebrows raising before she even opened her mouth.

Walker propped an arm up on the counter and leaned forward with an incredibly serious look on his face.  “This isn’t the real Caesar’s Palace is it? Like, did Caesar live here?”

Though her customer-service grin didn’t go away, the concierge looked like she died a bit on the inside as she replied, “no.”

“Didn’t think so.” Walker slapped the counter like he was proving a point and turned to them with a grin on his face. “I’ve always wanted to do that. In case you didn’t know it’s a reference to–”

“We’ve all seen The Hangover ,” Bucky said, straight faced. “Cultural comedy classic. Allegedly. Didn’t like it.”

“Bucky Barnes–” the concierge was already typing away at her computer, “–I’ve got your room cards right here. We have two rental vehicles for you already in the parking garage, courtesy of Ms. de Fontaine.” She carefully set a bundle of cards on the table, notably, only four, followed by two different car keys. 

Bucky snatched them before anyone else could even think of picking at them. 

“I’ll call someone to take your bags–”

“Don’t worry about it, we’ve got it,” he said, flashing a bright smile and a wink. “Thank you, though.”

“Of course.” The concierge turned a little shade of pink before returning the smile.

They turned towards the dimly lit, but somehow still incredibly bright, casino floor. Flashing colored lights and high pitched serotonin rings reminded Yelena of a carnival, but rather than clowns and carousels, it was people squatting at slot machines and roulette tables.

When they reached the elevators, Bucky handed Yelena a room key. 

“I trust you won’t lose it,” he sighed. Over his shoulder, Bob was staring at the ceiling, Ava was checking herself out in the mirror, and Alexei and Walker were arguing about whether or not Ocean’s 11 was plausible. 

“Eleven people working together on such an operation? Bah! Ridiculous!” Alexei shouted. “Five at most, before thing falls apart.”

“It’s important because all of them had a unique set of skills,” Walker argued. “Did you even watch the movie?”

Yelena pocketed the key card and pursed her lips. “I’ll hang onto it. Keeping the rest for yourself?”

Bucky made a hmph sound, just in time for their golden elevator to appear. They rolled themselves and their luggage in, the other tourists waiting for the lift fervently shaking their heads “no” and saying we’ll wait for the next one .

“Can’t wait to relax, roll with some highs,” Alexei said, stretching, somehow, loudly, “And gamble! Blackjack!”

“You have a budget,” Bucky reminded him. “Don’t go over.”

“Bah! I will win, no worries.”

For some reason, Yelena didn’t doubt that he would win. That worried her.

After an elevator ride that felt a little too long, Yelena found herself trailing behind everyone else. Maybe it was habit–the need to watch their backs–or maybe she didn’t want anyone else to see how excited she was. Either way, she felt herself lagging behind. Bob glanced over his shoulder and slowed his pace.

“Overwhelmed?” He asked, though she couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question. He paused, before adding a very clearly fake cough. “I mean, me too.”

“I’ve never been in such a fancy place. Well, that’s not true. The Avengers Tower is fancy. Fancier than this,” she said. She passed some perfectly good room service food abandoned outside a room and felt herself frown. “I’ve never been in such a place like this for fun .”

“Fanciest place I’ve been to is Disney World,” he said. “School trip. So, not that fancy.”

“You got Disney World? All I got was a zoo and Cedar Point, and I was too small–” she made a tiny gap with her index finger and thumb, “–to go on the cool rides.” She sighed. “Who knows though, maybe there’ll be something fun here.”

They stopped just a few feet away from the others who were paused outside of their hotel room.

“I think I’ll just stay in. Stay out of the way,” Bob said. He glanced at Bucky, who was trying to unlock the door with his key. “There’s too much going on in this place, anyways.”

“Use your other arm,” Walker advised. “You know, the one that isn’t metal.”

“Shut up Walker,” Bucky replied.

“Room service and TV wouldn’t be so bad,” Yelena agreed. “You could always come to the spa with me while I work. I’m sure congressman Barnes wouldn’t have any objections.”

He smiled a little. Yelena took that as a I would love to, but don’t want to be a burden or cause problems, so I’m going to say no thanks.

“Think about it,” she said, “or you can order as much junk food as you want on Valentina’s credit card. Up to you.”

“What did I tell you,” Walker’s voice cut through their conversation again, this time more triumphant. “Vibranium messes with the key readers.”

“I didn’t ask,” Bucky said.

Yelena watched the others shuffle in before adding, “Don’t forget you’re here to relax. Do what you want to do, you know?”

Bob nodded, his smile turning a little smaller but not completely fading.

The others had settled into the suite by the time Yelena and Bob joined them. Ava had disappeared, her tote bag on the floor, and Walker and Alxei had already spread themselves out onto the couch. Floor to ceiling windows behind the couch allowed the bright sun to pour through, the Vegas strip visible from the doorway. Stairs led up to a second floor, to where Yelena presumed was the bedrooms. Bucky stood with his arms crossed, his eyes scanning the suite like he was looking for something. Or someone.

“Relax Winter Soldier,” Alexei said, stretching wide. “Work does not begin until tomorrow morning! Come sit with us.”

“There are two bedrooms, one with a king bed and one with two queens,” Bucky said. “Since three of us don’t really get tired–”

“I’ve already called the King bed!” Ava called from the second story. “I’d say sorry, but I’m really not.”

“Just because I don’t get tired doesn’t mean I don’t wanna sleep,” Walker said. When Bucky glanced at him, he added, “But the couch is fine.”

“Then Bob and Yelena can have the other room,” Bucky concluded “I want us in the dining room in ten to finish discussing the mission. Then we’ll all be free until tomorrow.”

Dining room?

She didn’t even know where that was, but she figured she would find out. She and Bob climbed up the stairs and, surprisingly, the first door they opened contained two queen beds. Yelena jumped face-first onto the nearest one, sinking into the comforter and mattress with a relieved, guttural groan.

“This is better than my actual bed,” she said. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been awake since 5 AM. Who knows?

She heard Bob flop nearby on the other bed, though quieter. He let out a little sigh, but he didn’t say anything. A part of her wondered if this was the best place to bring him. A city, so full of vices, and they’d brought a man whose past was filled with vices. She propped her head up to look at him and saw he was staring at the ceiling, arms across his stomach. He looked tired. After the incident, he had needed a break, but Valentina hadn’t let any of them rest between menial missions and press tours.

This will be good for him . He needs time away from New York as much as we do.

At the very least, she let herself be comforted by the fact that they would keep their eyes on him. If nothing else, he would be safe and well as long as he was in good company.

Chapter Text

Ava stretched languidly in bed, morning light streaming through her window. For the first time ever, she felt rejuvenated and refreshed and–

Like she was going to throw up.

She gagged, her head suddenly not on her plush, lovely pillow, but instead on something hard and jagged. She blinked. She was upside down–she frantically felt around her–on a staircase. She managed to get her hands to her eyes and began to rub them, her vision slowly clearing. 

On the couch, somehow both vertical and horizontal, John, still in his polo shirt but in a new pair of basketball shorts, lay with his taco shield wrapped in his arms like a stuffed animal, a little smile on his face like he was having the nicest dream. She blinked again and saw Bob on the coffee table, in what appeared to be a Spirit Halloween version of his Sentry suit, laying ass up and snoring. 

Scattered around them was food and cans that looked like they had been violently thrown, and torn scraps of paper lay everywhere like impromptu confetti. Ava picked a piece up and examined it.

Objective: Infiltra–

Oh shit. Bucky’s packet. 

She dropped the piece and scrambled to her feet, phasing towards Bob and John until she was in front of them.

She shook John wildly. “Walker Walker Walker WalkerWalkerWalker–”

“What what what–” he swatted at her hands, his eyes fluttering open and his nose scrunched. “I’m trying to sleep–” he gagged. “Why do I feel like I’m gonna throw up?” He squinted past her. “And why is Bob ass up on the coffee table?”

“I don’t know!” Ava threw her hands in the air, running them through her hair. Her head was fuzzy, a blank spot between the meeting with the rest of the team and waking up on the staircase. “I can’t remember.”

“Guys? What’s wrong?” Bob asked dreamily. He flopped onto his side, one of his eyes lulling open. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okey dokey.”

“What the hell happened?” John hurriedly whispered, sitting upright. His cheeks puffed out, a burp rising from the back of his throat. He waved his hand in front of his face. “I mean, I don’t think anyone’s gonna be happy that we trashed the suite.”

“WE?” Ava scowled. “What do you mean we ?”

“You, me, and Bob? Remember? Everyone else went off to do things, and we had a few drinks…” He frowned. “And that’s it?”

“We drank? ” Ava, her voice lowered, gestured between all three of them. “ We drank?”

Yelena’s voice echoed in her head: “Can you keep an eye on Bob, make sure he doesn’t go out alone? He's out on the bed and I want to go explore for a bit, but I don't want him to get into anything. You know what I mean.”

John picked up a stray can, rubbing the back of his head. “Diet Coke.”

She picked up another can, this one with a clearly fake label with the words Extra Special Juice and John’s face under it. When she peeled the label back, she discovered it was a shiny, black can with a golden swan. She turned it over and over in her hands. 

No text, no information. Not even a calorie count. 

“What the hell Walker? ” She hissed, shoving the can and the label into his eyesight.

“Jesus, I don’t know where that came from! Can you chill out for a second?”

“I’m missing an entire night, I don’t think now is a good time to tell me to relax.”

A heavy thud cut her off as Bob rolled off the coffee table. As if on instinct, he flew upwards towards the ceiling before crashing back down, a light fixture coming with him. He was on his feet in an instant, head whipping around before his sights settled on them.

“What happened?” He asked, just as lost as before. He looked down at the light fixture, sucking in his lips. “Did I do that?”

“Only one of us can fly, Bob,” John said. He paused. “So. Yeah.”

“Oh God, how am I gonna pay for that?” He gagged. “I think I'm gonna be sick.” He looked down at his arms, tugging at the tight, bright yellow nylon, his brows furrowing in concern. “What am I wearing?”

“Uh–” Ava glanced at John for support. He only shrugged. She continued, “It looks like a very cheap version of your Sentry suit.”

“Oh no,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair as he seemed to catch onto the mess they stood in. “Oh shit. Oh God . Did I do something?”

John stood and grabbed Bob by the shoulders. “Bob, if something happened, don’t you think we’d know about it? Everything’s fine.” With his heel, he kicked another Extra Special Juice can under the couch, this one, notably, with Bob’s face on it. “You can go up and get changed while Ava and I start cleaning.”

“But I–”

“You can help when you're out of the dime store costume,” Ava said. 

Bob nodded. Tripping through the mess and up the stairs, he managed to make it to his room, the door shutting behind him. Ava turned to John. 

“I’ve got no idea what happened,” John admitted. He picked up his taco shield and examined it before putting it back on his arm. “He could’ve Voided half of Vegas and I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh my God .” Ava threw her hands up, dragging her fingers across her face. “Did we black out? All three of us?”

“No. No, I don’t black out. I can’t black out.” He finally picked up a can of the Extra Special Juice, sniffing the opening. “Smells like grape juice.”
She snatched the can from him, turning it over in her hands. “The golden swan emblem. Why’s that familiar?”

“Maybe because it’s the logo of the organization we’re supposed to destroy.” It seemed to click for both of them, then. “Huh.”

“We gotta call Bucky.” She patted herself up and down for her phone. “I don’t have my phone.”

John dropped everything in his hands. “Here, I’ve got mine.” He briefly waved an empty notification screen in her face, adding, “the good news is that we’re not in the news.”

He fumbled with his phone some more before holding it out on speaker.  It rang once before a familiar, flat voice said, “This is Bucky Barnes. Unfortunately I’m unavailable at the moment, but if you need to leave a message, leave it after the tone.”

John hung up and began to rapidly tap.

We’re never going to hear the end of this.

“Shit,” John groaned. He handed his phone to her before he began to pace back and forth, one hand rubbing his temples and the other rubbing the back of his head.

The message box was completely empty, except for one text from Bucky: Don’t call. Don’t text.

“That’s not like Bucky,” Ava said. “I mean, maybe it’s because he doesn’t like you, but he would never send that to me .”

“Our text chain wasn’t empty, though.” John frowned, taking his phone back and swiping like he was waiting for something to appear. He began to tap again. “Something’s wrong... and I think he blocked me.”

“Well, we should call Yelena and Alexei then.”

“What if they’re out infiltrating or whatever it is they’re supposed to be doing? We’ll compromise their mission.”
“If I’m not mistaken, we’ve already compromised the mission.”

John opened his mouth, and a small, muffled, infantile whine came out. It took Ava and her headache a moment to realize that it was not him; the sound came from behind her. A wash of dread fell over her and, by the way John turned pale, he too felt the sudden chill of responsibility. She phased towards the TV, crouching down to open the TV cabinet. Inside, a baby swaddled in a fruit basket cooed, its big blue eyes staring at her with such intensity she couldn’t think to do anything but close the cabinet again.

“Don’t just leave it in there!” John shoved her aside. He took the baby out of the basket, holding it out in both hands like it was a bomb. “Shit.”

“This is just like–”

“I know .” 

“GUYS!” Bob, now in his normal clothes, came screeching down the stairs. “GUYS GUYS GUYS!”

Ava didn’t have to ask what as a flash of orange, black, and white came bounding down the stairs after him. Bob leapt behind Ava, gripping her shoulders so tightly she wondered if he remembered he had super strength. She let out a sharp yelp as a giant tiger leapt towards them, teeth bared and claws out. John thrust the baby into Ava’s arms before smacking the tiger with the brunt side of his taco. 

It flew backwards, slamming into a nearby wall with a resounding crack . It snarled and sprung up on all fours with surprisingly low recovery time before lunging again at John, this time with more vigor. 

“Take the baby back!” Ava shouted. It squirmed uncomfortably in her hands, its fat arms waving wildly.

“I’m a little occupied!” John screamed, his taco now wedged in the tiger’s mouth.

“You’re a super soldier, just kill it!”

“It’s an endangered species, I can’t just–”

The tiger abruptly flung its head back and sent John flying upwards, another light fixture crashing with him. It turned its attention to Ava and Bob, its pupils narrowing into slits as it stared directly at her. She barely remembered not to phase before jumping out of the way, the baby laughing in her grip as she fell onto the floor. The tiger paid no mind to her. 

It pounced straight at Bob and knocked him flat on his back in one fell swoop. It didn’t give him a chance to react as it pressed down on his chest with a paw, its maw open to reveal its unnaturally sharp teeth.

Ava frantically looked for a place to set the baby down. 

Phase over. Get its heart. Save Bob or, maybe, the tiger from a horrible death. 

The baby began to cry.

Screw it. Into this pizza box–

Bob made a choking sound, as if the air was being pressed out of his lungs. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the tiger sitting comfortably on top of him like a bird on top of an egg, licking Bob’s face and chuffing with satisfaction. 

Is it wearing a bowtie?

“Good tiger,” Bob muttered. He reached up and began to scratch it behind its ears. “Please don’t eat me.”

“You alright, Bob?” Ava asked as she struggled to her feet, the baby still clutched in her outstretched arms.

“Yeah,” he wheezed. The tiger settled onto its belly on top of him,  closed its eyes, and set its head on top of Bob’s. Barely audible, Bob added: “Doing great.”

“I’m fine, by the way,” John grunted from on top of the broken coffee table. “Thanks for asking.”

“Okay. Okay,” Ava sighed. She shuffled towards John, helped him up with one arm, and shoved the baby into his chest with the other. “This is yours now.”

“What, why is he mine? I really think this is a finders keepers kind of thing.”

“You’re the only one with experience taking care of a kid,” she said. She had another comment on the peripherals of her mind, but considering their day was already off to a horrendous start, she didn’t need to make it worse. “Just watch the kid, Walker.”

The baby opened its mouth and began to wail even louder.

“See! He likes you more! Take him back,” he said. He began to bounce it up and down in his arms. His voice softened, his nose wrinkling, “Do you have a bottle somewhere?”

She turned herself invisible and ran up the stairs, deciding to try and find something that revealed what happened the night before. The first door left of the staircase was Bob and Yelena’s room. It was surprisingly pristine, the only evidence that something might’ve gone wrong an overturned vase and an abandoned Spirit Halloween Sentry costume. She picked up the Sentry costume between her fingers, examining it like it was crucial evidence. Despite being somewhat poorly made, she supposed she could give it some points for accuracy. The color scheme was on point. 

Valentina works fast, but Spirit Halloween works faster.

She moved to their bathroom which was an entirely different story compared to their bedroom. It was clear the tiger had been in there, several rotisserie chicken carcasses piled in the bathtub. She refrained from gagging, nausea filling her head with discomfort, and closed the door as quickly as she’d opened it and made her way to her room.

When she phased through her door, she saw that her room was an even larger mess than the living room. Her mattress was missing, her pillows were gutted and shredded, the sheets and comforter were over the TV, and four empty room service trays sat abandoned by her bed. The only thing that seemed untouched was her bright pink tote bag which sat quietly on one of the chairs. She phased over and slung it over her shoulder, still wrapping her head around the mess she’d left the room in. As she moved back out of the room, her foot slammed into something hard and heavy beneath an abandoned pillow case. She cursed loudly, tossing the pillow case aside to see what she’d stubbed her toes on.

 She stared at it, unable to process exactly what it was, but when the realization hit, a wash of cold dread sent her head into a dizzying spiral. With great care, she bent down and picked up the intricately designed vibranium arm, and phased through the floor with it still in her hands. She landed left of John, who had managed to find a formula bottle to feed the baby. 

“Jesus Christ Ava, you scared the–” he trailed off, his voice still hushed like he was trying not to startle the baby. His eyes, however, were trained on the cold, limp metal arm that served as a confirmation of their fears.

“We need to call Yelena, Alexei, or maybe even Sam Wilson. You have his number, don’t you?” she said.
“Are you kidding? He blocked me!” He whispered aggressively. “Besides, are we really going to admit to everyone that we lost Bucky Barnes and he’s without his billion dollar arm?”

“Well, we can’t have him missing either, can we?”

“Shit.” John hoisted the baby higher, tossing the now empty baby bottle over his shoulder. “You should call him.”

She set the arm on the floor and peered into her tote only to find it practically empty, save for a black box and multiple envelopes.

“This isn’t mine,” she said, miffed as she peered down into it. She opened and closed the opening, as if maybe she was hallucinating. 

“What do you mean it isn’t yours?”

“Well, either I dumped out all of the contents–including my phone and a gun –bought an engagement ring, and stole somebody’s mail, this isn’t mine,” she scoffed angrily.

“An engagement ring?” Without asking, he plunged his hand into the bag, rummaged around, and pulled out the box.

He flipped it open, revealing a singular, golden poker chip engraved with a swan. She had to hand it to this criminal organization. They certainly did an excellent branding job.

“Perfect. Cheap merch.” John tossed the box back into the bag. “Bob, where’s your phone?”

Bob, now standing next to the still sleeping tiger, carefully inched towards them like moving too fast would rouse it from its nap. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a completely shattered phone, little glass pieces falling to the ground. He watched them fall, his mouth turning into a disappointed, thin line.

“Why am I not surprised?” John muttered. “Okay. The first thing we need to do is get this baby off our hands.”

“Open to suggestions, Walker,” Ava said sarcastically.

He stood with his taco hand on his hip and the baby in the other, clearly thinking as the wrinkles in his forehead dipped. “Hospital. While we’re there, we can get ourselves checked out in the meantime because God knows what we got ourselves into last night.”

“I don’t do well with hospitals,” Bob said awkwardly, picking at his nails with hands hidden in his sleeves. “Maybe I’ll just stay here. Clean up or something until you guys get back.”

“That’s fine with–”

“We should stick together,” Ava hastily interjected. Yelena’s sad face appeared in her head like a vision, her imaginary voice saying: you lost Bob and Bucky? How did you manage that? God I can’t leave any of you alone.

 “There’s a tiger in here Bob, it's not safe,” Ava continued, “and we should go together to figure out what happened, especially since we don’t have phones. You can wait in the rental car… you do still have the key, right Walker?”

John raised a brow and shuffled over to where the coffee table was. Miraculously, in the shards of glass and bent steel, a set of car keys sat relatively unharmed. He picked it up with his free hand and jingled them. Ava let out a little sigh,  grabbed Bob by the arm, and began walking towards the exit, John hesitantly trailing after.

“What are we gonna do once we figure out what to do with–” Bob gestured towards John, stuttering like he was trying to think, “the kid.”

Ava pulled the door open and stepped into the hall.  She shrugged. “Get some help and tell Yelena.”

“Tell Yelena what?” Yelena asked from down the hall. She jogged towards them, her brief look of relief quickly replaced with a little grin.

Ava startled, shoving John back into the room and slamming the door. Bob gave her a strange look before noticing Yelena, a genuine smile forming on his face before it turned into an oh no she’s going to kill us smile.

“That we have a surprise for you! In the suite! But it’s not ready,” Ava said hurriedly, clasping her hands together. Tell her. “It won’t be ready until tonight.”

Oh my God why didn’t you tell her?

“Oh, surprise, eh? For me?” Yelena smiled, wiggling her eyebrows. “I suppose I can wait to change into these new clothes I bought. I’ve been shopping all morning with Alexei. It’s where I got this new outfit!” She lifted up several shopping bags to show off a fancy-looking, pocket-laden vest before handing the bags to Bob. “Could you put these in our room?”

He just nodded in response.

“You know, I actually came up here to see if Bob wanted to come with me to the Golden Goose. I couldn’t get a hold of you on your phone, so I was worried–”

“Out of battery,” Bob laughed nervously. “Sorry. I forgot to charge it last night.”

Yelena made a huh sound. “That’s alright Bob.” She gave Ava a sideways glance. “Where is Walker? Aren’t you supposed to be investigating the fight club under Lux Diamond?”

“Lux Diamond?” Ava coughed.

“The casino? The fancy, black tower west of the strip?”

“Right.”

Yelena raised her eyebrows again, but if she was skeptical she didn’t say so. “So Bob, are you coming with me?”

“Uh, I think I’m gonna stay in and get room service. Watch something on TV. You know. The usual relaxing stuff,” he laughed nervously.

“Okay then. Charge your phone at least,” she ordered. She turned to Ava. “Better get on to our missions so Bucky doesn’t get pissed at us again.”

Again?

Yelena walked away, briefly waving goodbye before she turned the corner towards the elevators.

“I know I should’ve gone with her, but I think I wanna know what happened to me,” Bob began, swallowing as if something caught in his throat. He nodded, like he was trying to convince himself. “I need to know I didn’t do something… bad.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Ava said.

Bob smiled wearily as she reached into her pocket. By some miracle, the room key was still where she’d put it when Bucky gave it to her, so she opened the door. John stood in the same place she’d left him, though he looked significantly more annoyed. Bob shuffled back into the suite, briefly disappearing up the stairs. 

“So you lied to Yelena’s face, huh?” John noted.

“I panicked, okay?” She retorted. “What am I supposed to say? There’s a tiger in our room, Bucky is missing, we don’t remember what happened within the last ten hours, and we’re going to the hospital because we also found a baby in the TV cabinet? But don’t worry! We have it completely under control!”

“Yeah.”

“Then you call her and tell her.”

John’s mouth snapped shut, but he made no movement towards his phone.

“That’s what I thought,” Ava said. When Bob came back into sight, she began to make her way down the hall, not bothering to wait for them to follow. “Let’s get on, then.”

Chapter Text

Alexei sat squat, grinning down at his phone as he swiped through his most recent photos. He and Yelena had spent the whole evening together, albeit a happy coincidence more than a planned excursion. They’d left to explore at the same time and wound up sneaking into a Cirque Du Soleil performance.

“You could do that!” Alexei had exclaimed proudly as an acrobat swung on a ring high in the air by their chin. 

“Are you crazy?” She’d whispered back. “This is insane.”

“There’s always time to learn, eh?”

They’d left the show in high spirits, opting to do some late night drinking and gambling, then some early morning sightseeing, then a buffet trip to the Bacchanal Buffet (on Valentina’s credit card), and then, finally, a shopping spree (also on Valentina’s credit, which they cited as a business expense because Alexei “needed” more undercover clothes). Alexei wondered if this was what family vacations were supposed to be like.

Someone pounded on his door. 

“Come on man, you’ve been sitting in there for like, ten minutes! I gotta shit too,” someone shouted. 

Alexei grumbled, standing back up and picking up his shopping bags. He’d gone into the nearest stall to change into his undercover outfit, but he guessed he’d overshared his stay.

“One minute!” He shouted in his midwestern accent, clasping his belt back around his waist and shoving his other tourist clothes into a now empty shopping bag.

When Alexei stepped out, the small man waiting impatiently outside shrunk back, his eyes first glinting with annoyance, then befuddlement. Alexei patted him on the shoulder, smiling in what he hoped was a polite way. 

“Don’t worry. There is no stink, if you know what I mean,” he said. He thought for a second, then added, “And my hands are very clean.”

The stranger just nodded at him, fleeing into the stall and slamming the door behind him, the sound of the little lock resounding through the tile bathroom. Alexei marched over to the sink to wash his hands. Although he was used to the odd stare, especially as the Red Guardian, he thought today he appeared like the average, well built, strong American man, lampshade mustache and all. 

It took looking in the mirror for him to realize splotches of dried ketchup, that looked remarkably like blood, stained his moustache and cheeks.

He grumbled, dunking his face under the running water and rapidly scrubbing. Another patron side eyed him, but didn’t say anything. Alexei gave him a thumbs up but refrained from asking: you recognize me, no? He’d already stopped himself three times from asking strangers that question: asking it undercover would do him no favors, especially since he was already so recognizable.

As he stepped out of the bathroom and back into “You F*cking Donut”–Gordon Ramsay’s latest fancy brunch restaurant at The Victoria, a luxury casino resort affiliated with the Lux Diamond–he contemplated grabbing a box of pastries to take with him on his infiltration mission. If the donuts were as fancy looking as the restaurant, he knew he could appease the greedy eyes and small stomachs of tiny rich people. 

He stepped into the line, observing the other customers. They milled about, sitting at tables with fancy coffees and full English breakfasts. He noted, unlike how shows and movies portrayed casino-goers, most of them were dressed down in casual shirts and shorts, but as the strongest, most attractive New Avenger, he knew better than most that looks can be deceiving. Any one of these funny little tourists could have heavy pockets and a desire to purchase illicit super-soldier serum from a black market ring. 

“Sir, are you going to order something?” The young woman at the register asked impatiently as she  tapped the register with her fingers. 

Alexei peered down into the display at the ornately decorated donuts.

Yelena would like the one with little strawberries on it. 

He glanced up at the prices.

What’s one more charge on Valentina’s credit card, eh?

“I will take a dozen of your finest donuts,” He said. He paused for a split second to correct his thoughts. “Whatever your favorites are. And a strawberry donut.”

The worker left their station, taking a large, fancy box with her to fill with large, fancy donuts. In a separate bag, less fancy than the box, she shoved in a strawberry donut. When she came back, she plopped everything onto the counter and said, “That’ll be $136.43.”

Alexei blinked. A protest nearly fell out of his mouth before he remembered  he wasn’t the one paying for it. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his leather wallet, and procured a red, white, and blue business credit card.

Very American he thought proudly. 

He walked out of the restaurant with a giant, bright blue, couture bag. He momentarily paused outside to fish out Yelena’s donut bag, which he pocketed in his shorts. They’d made plans to meet in the evening for dinner, so long as their missions permitted it. For the first time in a while, he found himself looking forward to something. 

However, for now he was tasked with sniffing out the high roller tables at the snobbiest resort in the city. The Victoria had quickly gained fame and infamy for becoming one of the most opulent, luxurious, and expensive casinos in the whole city despite its newness. Its interior reflected its wealth; black and gold gothic motifs and windowless walls made it feel like an expensive medieval dungeon with slot machines. It was the last place Alexei wanted to be, far too fancy and stuck-up for his tastes, and when he’d scoped the place out after Yelena left to her duties, he’d  had trouble finding the blackjack tables. 

He found himself wandering around the casino floor with his box of donuts and shopping bags, looking for the exclusive, secret club for the people who wasted unfathomable amounts of money at Lux Corp. casinos. Allegedly, Valentina had pulled some strings to get “Alexander H. Smith” on the ultra-rich-people list, but Alexei had yet to see the fruits of her supposed effort.

When he’d read over his packet, all the guidance he’d been given was “wait for access to the Ultra Lux club at The Victoria.”

Thanks Winter Soldier. Very helpful.

Twenty minutes of aimless wandering finally came to an end when the blackjack tables came into view. He slid onto a stool beside a young man with slicked back hair and a single ear piercing. Alexei set his bags and donuts on the ground, looked at the dealer, and handed her a wad of fifty dollar bills in exchange for a nice little pile of black and gold chips. 

“Deep pockets, eh?” The young man asked. 

“You could say that,” Alexei–as Alexander H. Smith–replied. He eyed the young man's high stack of chips. “Winning big?”
“Nah,” the man replied.

The dealer set two cards down on the table, one face down, and a queen face up.

Alexei looked down at his two cards. King. Five. He waved to himself, and the dealer tossed him another card. Four. He waved his hand over his cards.

“Stand,” the man next to him said. He turned to Alexei. “I still don’t know the hand signals.”

“You will learn,” Alexei encouraged. “Blackjack is so easy.” The dealer flipped over her other card to reveal a ten. Twenty bucks, gone. “ SO easy.”

The dealer collected the cards and chips, and began to deal more cards.

“This is my first time in Vegas,” the man continued, “my friends were telling me I should’ve stayed at a more popular hotel, but my dad has some deals with this place.”

Alexei’s eyebrows shot up, but he quickly put them back down. “Your dad?”

“Hm, yeah. It's kind of embarrassing to be hanging out with him. Most people my age have like, jobs and stuff, and here I am still hanging out with my pops,” he laughed, and took a swig out of his whiskey glass. 

Is this how Yelena feels?
“I’m sure your father is very proud,” Alexei said as he lost another twenty dollars.

“He just needs someone to inherit his company.”

What’s the word… nero-baby? Netho-baby? Nipple baby?

“Your father would only give you his company if he thought you were capable,” Alexei replied. The dealer dealt another round, Alexei receiving an ace and a nine. “I would do the same for my daughter.”

The dealer flipped her cards over and pushed him forty more chips. 

“You have a billion dollar company?”

“Not a billion, but I have a very successful limo company. I even drive the limos myself sometimes. Very discreet though, I have big clients, you know.”

“Hollywood?”
“New York.”

“I wonder if you’ve carted my pops around, then. He’s done a lot of work in New York,” the man said. “My name’s Jordan, by the way.”

“Jordan,” Alexei repeated. You know who I am, no?   “Alex Smith.”

Jordan squinted at him. “You know, you look familiar.”

Alexei felt sweat form on his neck. “If you say I've driven your dad around, maybe I've driven you too.”

“It's something else. Like I've seen you on TV.”

Alexei wondered if flipping the blackjack table would cause enough of a distraction. He pried at the table before he realized that it was fully embedded in the ground. If he tore it up, it would be obvious he was no normal man. 

He cursed to himself. The one time I can’t be recognized.

“I know what it is! You look like that guy from Stranger Things . Tim Bopper or whoever it is!” Jordan nodded enthusiastically. “I've always wanted to meet someone famous.”

Alexei’s left eye twitched.

Ridiculous! I look nothing like that silly little sheriff. Instead, Alexei said, “Is your father not famous?”

“No. He's one of those incognito billionaires.” Jordan paused like he’d said too much. He looked down at his whiskey glass and frowned, realizing it was empty. “I mean he just doesn't like showing his wealth off, you know?”

“Well, it seems even the secretly wealthy like extravagance. You are in Vegas in the most expensive casino, you know?”

“Heh, I guess. Pops is here for a conference, though.”

Alexei’s interest was already piqued, but this made it skyrocket. 

“We must be going to the same place, then,” Alexei said. “I haven’t found where I’m supposed to go, though.”

Jordan gathered up his casino chips, signaling that he was done playing blackjack. He stood from the table and picked up his empty glass.

“So you went straight to blackjack instead?” Jordan chuckled.

“It’s my favorite game.”

Jordan seemed to think for a minute, sizing him up with his eyes. He shrugged to himself.

“I can show you where it is. The club, I mean. The elevator up is kind of tucked away, and they’ll need your name at the door.”

Valentina better have done her job.

“That’s kind of you,” Alexei said. He picked up the donut box and shopping bags off the floor, flipping the box’s lid open. “Donut?”

Jordan smiled. “I’d love one, but I’m on a diet.” He lowered his voice. “My pops doesn’t know, but I’ve got a podcast and vlog. I’m kind of, like, a super successful life coach.  Can’t be gaining any pounds, if you know what I mean.”

No. And you sound incredibly silly. “I see. More for me then!” Alexei grinned and faked a polite laugh.

As they walked towards a remote corner of the casino and Jordan began to advertise his services–“does your daughter need a life coach? I have some very good step-by-step guides to increase motivation and productivity!”–Alexei began to realize he’d gotten the short end of the stick. While the others were off, sneaking around Las Vegas, fist-fighting super soldiers and infiltrating secret labs, he was stuck with Life Coach Jordan and, probably, more strange nipple-babies just like him. 

They stopped in front of two normal double doors, a sign hanging above that read employee only . A woman all dressed in black watched them from the slot machines. She may have thought she was being discreet, but nobody could hide from Alexei’s incredibly sharp perception. Jordan knocked on the double doors, and as if on cue, the woman stalked over with her arms crossed.

“It says employee only,” she said. Her eyes flickered to Alexei, before her eyes flashed with recognition. 

Ha! Finally! Someone knows me.

“Alex Smith,” she acknowledged. “We received word that you’d be coming.”

She pulled off her lanyard, opened a panel by the doors, and slid the card into the keyreader. The double doors swung open to reveal two elevator doors, which promptly slid open.

The woman gestured for Jordan to enter.  “I must speak to Mr. Smith for a moment, if you don’t mind, sir.”

Jordan shrugged and sauntered into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed again, the woman turned towards Alexei and stuck her hand out. When he awkwardly shook it, she slid a small, metal card into his palm.

“Courtesy of your employer,” the woman said, dropping their handshake. She glanced around, and although no one was nearby, she lowered her voice. “It's an access card that will get you anywhere in the Lux Corp Casinos. They reset them every three days, so you’ll need to work fast. Intel tells us that they’re selling and producing the serum within their three casinos, but we don’t have an exact location. You need to find where they’re selling and collect enough evidence to legally shut the operation down. But don’t kill anyone and try not to give yourself away. And, as I’ve been told by your employer , I must implore you not to use the keycard liberally. There are eyes and ears everywhere, and we don’t want to raise red flags.”

Alexei had some protests, including what legally really meant, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “Got it.” 

The woman nodded, relief washing away her strained expression like she’d just done the most difficult job, before re-opening the panel and granting him access to the elevator. 

“This elevator is the only way to access the club. Well, that and the emergency fires stairs,” she said as the elevator slowly opened. She gave him a shiny smile and, loudly, said, “Enjoy your time at the Ultra Lux.”

Chapter Text

The ride down the elevator was silent except for the baby screaming in their ears. John awkwardly bounced the kid up and down in one arm, shield in the other,  his brain still scrambling to find some semblance of sanity. He might’ve found it, if it weren’t for his pounding headache and the bawling child.

When he tried to hand him off, Ava disappeared herself and Bob said, “You would trust me with a baby?”

John continued to hold the baby.

The elevator opened with a faint ding, and Ava reappeared just to saunter off, a familiar look of brooding determination all over her face, Bob wandering after her with his perpetual confusion. As John trailed behind them, he tried to think of ways to convince them to take the baby to the hospital so he could do something else. Anything else.

Someone needs to look for Bucky , he thought. Ava’s imaginary rapid-fire reply immediately came to mind: Because you’re the one Bucky would want to see the most, right?

We need to start our mission at the fight club. Bob, get the baby to the hospital, then meet us back here tonight . This time John reminded himself that Bob and hospitals don’t mix well. God, can't leave that guy alone for even a minute. 

He looked down at the kid, his big blue eyes staring back.

At least he’s kinda cute.

He followed them all the way out to Caesars’ dropoff zone where Ava was already asking a valet to retrieve their car, the keys pinched between her fingers. He nearly slammed into Bob’s back, skidding to a halt just short to protect the baby’s little head. 

“Jeez Bob, don’t just stop–” John cut himself off, following Bob’s eyeline up towards a statue sitting two floors above them.

Beyond the drop-off zone, a construction crane slowly moved upwards towards a giant, white mattress impaled on a marble statue. Two workers on the ground stared up at it with their hands on their hips, their lips pursed and their eyes narrowed.

“Why do I feel like we had something to do with that?” Bob croaked.

“Maybe because there’s a tiger in our room and we don’t remember what happened last night,” John replied, only partially sarcastically. “If that’s our problem, the mattress is probably the least of our concerns.”

Distantly, John could hear a nearby passerby say, “I’m kind of impressed. Do you know how heavy those mattresses are? And that one looks like a king sized.”

“But what kind of rich asshole stays on one of the highest floors to chuck a mattress off?” Someone else replied.

John decided, even if it was their problem, it no longer was. Any thought of being a legitimate Avengers team would go out the window if anybody even thought they were responsible for chucking their mattress out a window of a twenty-nine story building.

John imagined Sam Wilson scoffing. You got black out drunk in Vegas? How does that even happen, you’re a super soldier! And you threw a mattress out a window, and you want to be Captain America?  You’re kidding, right?

The baby reached its little arms out and tugged at John’s beard.

“No, I didn’t forget about you. How could I?” He said as he gently pinched its pudgy arm. When Bob gave him a strange, uncomfortably knowing look, he added, “Since you’ve been crying in my ear this whole time.”

“You look like you’re getting attached to him,” Ava said, phasing through them and spinning on her heel to face them. “I don’t think Valentina wants another member of the family , if you’re thinking of adopting.”

“She would probably experiment on him,” Bob added.

“Jesus, Bob,” John muttered defensively. “And no, I’m not getting attached to it. It’s just clingy, that’s all.”

“Sure,” Ava snickered.

Their ride pulled up shortly after. It was a tiny little yellow Volkswagen Beetle–obviously the “undercover car” and not the “cool, badass, mission car” John knew they had–and when the driver stepped out, she handed Ava the car keys with a smile as John fumbled around in his pocket for the ten dollar tip. Once the valet was out of sight, Ava extended the keys to him. John crinkled his nose, holding up the baby and gesturing to him as if she’d somehow forgotten he was holding him.

“I don’t have a driver’s license, and if we want to stay out of trouble I shouldn’t be the one driving,” Ava explained, still jingling the keys. The baby grasped at them, its chubby fingers too fat to properly get a grip. “You have to drive.”

“Then you have to hold the baby,” John said, extending him out. “I can’t drive and hold a baby.”

“What? No, it hates me, and I’ve got to carry this bag.”

“Okay, first off, that bag weighs less than a pound, and second off, it’s a baby, it can’t hate you.” He turned to Bob and nodded his head towards the keys. “You have to drive.”

“Sure.” Bob reached out to grab them, but Ava yanked them away.

“Didn’t you get your license taken away?” She said, “John, you’re just going to have to hold the baby in your lap and drive really carefully.”

“Are you insane?” John’s voice was just below a shout. “If we get pulled over, we’d all go to jail for child endangerment!”

“Then don’t get pulled over.”

“It’s a baby, not a bomb, you can hold it for five minutes .”

“Just–” Bob reached out, carefully taking the baby by its armpits, “I can hold him.”

John expected the baby to start screaming but when he didn’t, John let out a puff of relief and opened the passenger-side door. He gestured towards the small, cramped, backseat.

“After you,” he said, looking at Ava. When she opened her mouth to protest, he interjected, “Baby holder gets front seat privilege.”

“Fine,” she scowled, phasing into the tiny back seat space.

Bob awkwardly clambered into the passenger seat, now cradling the baby with surprising gentleness. John would almost be impressed, if he didn’t remember that he was with two fully grown adults that were acting like a baby was a nuclear bomb. He knew he had gotten the short end of the stick when Yelena and Alexei’s missions sounded like a paid vacation, but he didn’t expect the stick to be this short.

Just get the baby off your hands.

After stuffing his taco into the car trunk, John climbed into the driver’s seat, and the baby spit in his direction like it had heard his thoughts. Knowing what world he lived in, he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d accidentally kidnapped a telepathic baby. 

Perfect .

“Can you turn the car on already?” Ava complained. “It’s already getting hot in here.”

“I just sat down,” John huffed. He slammed the car door shut, and the whole vehicle shuttered. “Give me a minute.”

He turned the key twice before the car sputtered to life. It was clearly on its last leg, especially since he felt like he was pedaling it down the Vegas strip. He could only presume Alexei or Yelena had ended up with the Bugatti. He took a mental note to add it to the list of grudges he'd bring up later when another mission arose and they were dishing out tasks. 

“Your phone says there’s a bunch of hospitals north on I-15,” Ava said.

“How did you get my phone?” John reflexively patted his pocket, swerving just in time to miss a pedestrian. “Give it back.”

“You’re driving, you don’t need it.”

John slammed on the brakes, barely stopping short of a crosswalk as the traffic light turned red. Bob sighed deeply, still holding the baby up as he was knocked into the back of his seat.

“Are you sure you know how to drive?” Bob asked. “Cause, if you need me to, I can–”

“I’ve got it,” John scowled, reaching into the back seat, trying to re-steal his phone. “How do you even know my password?”

“You made it your birthday,” Ava drawled. “It’s not like you made it hard.”

“Light’s green,” Bob noted. The car behind them honked.

“Jesus–” John got a grip on his phone, yanked it back, and hit the gas. The car heaved forward, jerking them forward. “Can we all just sit still for one minute?”

The baby began to cry. 

Bob pulled the kid onto his shoulder, patting his back and bouncing him up and down. “Do we have his bottle?”

Shit. I forgot the bottle.

“Ava, did you bring it?” John asked. He slammed on the brakes at another red light, and the car behind him honked no more than an inch away from their bumper.

“What? You had it last!” She protested.

John hit the gas again, and they lurched forward. “I asked you to bring it!”

“You absolutely did not.”

“We’re not making it to the hospital,” Bob muttered haplessly to himself, his eyebrows knit as he desperately tried to comfort the baby. “It’s okay little guy. I’m here… that’s probably not comforting.”

Jesus Christ.

“We’ll get there in ten minutes,” Ava said. In the rearview mirror, John saw her waving his phone. His eye twitched violently. “I’m sure the hospital will have something for the kid.”

“How did you even–” he started. Deep breaths John. Deep breaths. “Nevermind.”

He pressed down on the gas pedal, weaving through cars until every light he hit was yellow (turned red, by the time he passed through them). Cars honked, pedestrians stared, but not a single cop car was in sight. He only breathed when he swerved into the hospital lot, braking hard into an empty spot. He turned the car off and practically fell out as he opened the door. Jogging to the passenger side, he opened the door to see Bob had turned a pale green, the baby finally sitting still and grinning in his lap. 

“You good, Bob?” John said, taking the baby off his hands. 

“Great,” he replied. He made a hurk sound. “Never better.”

John turned away. If Bob was going to puke, he certainly didn’t want to witness it. John had a habit of seeing vomit, and then producing his own. He was lucky this baby hadn’t lost its stomach yet, as babies so often did. The thought made him queasy, and a little sick with guilt as he thought about his own kid. He looked down at the baby in his arms, its big blue eyes boring into him with something that almost looked like pity. John scrunched his nose. 

 “We should give him a name,” John said, more to distract himself than anything as they made their way to the hospital entrance.

“I like calling it it ,” Ava replied. “Besides, isn’t it a little odd to give a baby that isn’t ours a name?”

“ Ours?”

“Eat shit, you know what I meant.”

“We should call it John Jr.,” Bob chimed in. “It kinda looks like you.”

“Oh, I absolutely agree.” Ava grinned, clasping her hands together. The automatic hospital doors slid open. “Constant complaining? Gets incredibly hangry?  Sounds just like John.”

“Shut up,” John nipped.

He glanced around the giant hospital lobby. He didn’t really know where to go. The last time he was in a hospital was when his wife was giving birth, and nobody had ever taught him how to return a baby. He was starting to think going to the hospital was a bad idea, even if it was his idea, but he decided he wasn’t going to admit that outloud. Without saying a word, he began to walk confidently towards a random receptionist desk.

Ava spoke first: “Pardon us.”

The exhausted-looking receptionist looked up at them, her look of dismay turning into a look of recognition.

“You’re the people from super late last night. Like, three in the morning late,” the receptionist said. She snapped her fingers, as if trying to recall. “Yeah! You’re the group that came in for bloodwork. Are you here for the lab results? I’m not sure they’re in yet. They would’ve given you a call.”

“Erm… no. I mean, yes?” Ava blinked. “Wait, sorry. We were here last night?”

“Mhmm,” the receptionist nodded. “You three, a guy with a metal arm, and another woman in a wedding dress.”

“In a what?”

“Did we have this baby?” Bob asked, pointing to John Jr.

“Are you asking for a paternity test?” The receptionist replied. She stared at them for a minute, blinking slowly before she realized. “Sorry, it’s been a long night. You had him with you. That was part of the reason you were here, I think. He had a rash.”

“And you remember all of this?” Ava questioned, leaning over the desk.

“Oh yes. All six of you were quite memorable. Especially the guy with the metal arm.” The receptionist dreamily put her chin on her hand. “Where is he, by the way?”

“Uh–”

“Is there any way we can leave this baby here? At the hospital, not here, here,” Bob said. “It’s not ours.”

The receptionist frowned. “Last night I had you all down as the child’s emergency contacts. Did something happen to his mother?”

“No, we don't think so... wait, I’m sorry, what?”

“The woman in the wedding dress and the guy with the metal arm had insisted all your names needed to be on the child's emergency contact list because of some kind of top-secret government thing.” The receptionist shrugged. “Metal-arm-guy even showed me a badge. Who am I to argue with the government trying to protect a super baby?”

Badge? Why does Bucky get a badge?

“Who’s the child’s guardian?” Ava interrogated, pushing against the counter and nearly leaning over the desk. “We need a name.”

“What she means to say, is what’s her legal name,” John interjected. Like a liar, he continued, “We believe she may have been using a pseudonym when she placed her child under our protection. Now that the threat is gone, we’re having trouble contacting her.”

The receptionist nodded, fully convinced, and lowered her voice, “I see. Well, last night she introduced herself as Amelia March, which I believe is her show name because our records indicate her name is actually Danielle White. Sound familiar?”

Both Bob and Ava opened their mouths, but John nodded eagerly and confidently interrupted, “Yes it does. Thank you. Do you have any number we can contact her by?”

“I’m legally not allowed to give out that information,” she whispered. “I mean, I’m risking a lot giving you her name. I can tell you that she said she’d just come back from the best night of her life. She was in a wedding dress, so I presume she’d recently gotten hitched. I’d thought it was to one of you four.” Under her breath, she sighed, “I hope it wasn’t the guy with the metal arm.”

“No partner with her?” John clarified.

The receptionist shook her head. “Not that I saw. She was the only one dressed up. She said something about a last minute ‘shindig,’ as she put it.” 

There were about a million more questions running around in John’s head, and judging by their faces, Ava and Bob were just as befuddled, but he wasn’t sure how long they’d be able to keep asking questions without the receptionist becoming suspicious. They didn’t have a badge, and they also didn’t have a brooding gunshow with a metal arm, so only time would tell before she realized there was no secret operation and that John was lying from his ass through his teeth. 

“Thank you for your time.” He dramatically turned around, stopped, and spun on his heel, propping John Jr. up. “You don’t happen to know where we can get formula for this little guy, right? Anywhere in here?”

“Of course! There’s a shop just by the maternity ward. You should be able to find something for six month olds there.” She smiled. “Oh, and if they don’t call you for your lab results, you should be able to find them online through the patient portal. Just log in with your name and birthdate.”

“Perfect. Thanks again.”

Ava looked ready to pounce with more questions, so he grabbed her arm with his free hand and dragged her away, her vice grip on Bob dragging him with them. They stopped by a small, chairless table, and John rapidly glanced over his shoulders like there really was some kind of secret mission. 

Exasperated, Ava said, “are we really not going to press for more answers? It wouldn’t take me long to just sneak back there and–”

“No, we’re causing enough trouble as it is,” John sighed, checking his watch. “And we’re wasting time.”

“All the more reason to leave John Jr. here.”

“And what if he is a super baby, and we lose both Bucky,  a super baby, and the super baby’s mother?” He shot back. God, this mission disguised as a vacation sucks.

“You really believe that BS?”

“What happens if we don’t believe it’s got powers and it becomes a super villain because it was abandoned at birth?” Bob added. Both Ava and John frowned but, for what John presumed, different reasons. “What? I can agree with John every once and a while.”

“Jesus Christ.” Ava threw her hands in the air.

“I need to get a bottle for this kid,” John said. “In the meantime, I need one of you to contact Mel to find out who Danielle White is, where she lives, and how we can get her baby back to her.”

He reached into his pocket for his phone, but Ava already had it in her hands, an infuriatingly blank stare on her face as she tapped into it. “Got it, John and cooler John.”

“Stay right there,” John began to walk away, towards the large hanging sign pointing towards the maternity ward. “That means, don’t go anywhere.”

He patted his other pocket. At least Ava hadn’t lifted the keys off him, so if they did want to leave him and John Jr. they’d have to walk. John Jr. made one tiny, squeaky laugh.

“That’s right, they’re stuck here,” John replied enthusiastically, his voice a pitch higher. He paused and glanced around until he found another maternity ward sign pointing left. “And you’re stuck with me.”

John Jr. squawked giddily. By the time John found the little shop the receptionist was talking about, John Jr. had fallen asleep on his shoulder, drool dribbling onto John’s polo shirt. He scanned the shelves for the right formula, a little pang of guilt hitting him in the back of his mind as he reached for a generic brand of ready-to-feed formula. 

“Twenty dollars? ” He scoffed, picking up the box and turning it around in his hands. “That’s ridiculous.”

He looked between the formula, and John Jr’s needy expression. “Anything for you, I guess.”

He paused by the large boxes of diapers, grabbing one under his arm, and then by a larger section with baby car seats. Once again, he gawked at the $200 price tag, but grabbed it anyway because he didn’t want to imagine the baby still in Bob’s unsteady hands for what he predicted to be more chaotic car rides. He impulsively picked up a baby carrier that could be buckled to the carrier’s front on his way to the register. He knew he was the one that would probably end up using it, but imagining Ava wearing it made the purchase worth it.

“Cute little guy. What’s his name?” The cashier chirped.

“Isn’t he?” John agreed. “His name is John.”

“Aw.” The cashier scanned his things. “That’ll be $359.89.”

He patted his pockets, instinctively reaching for his credit card before stopping himself short and grabbing the business card Valentina had given him. 

If she asks, just say: Bob ended up in the hospital. What? It’s your fault for not getting us health insurance. 

“Do you need a bag?” The cashier asked.

“Nah. I’ve got it.” He stacked the boxes on top of each other and, in one smooth motion, hoisted everything up onto his shoulder, John Jr. still comfortably situated in his other arm.

He expected the cashier to say something, but all they did was wave him goodbye and address the extremely tired looking mother next in line. Odd . He supposed a hospital employee would have seen stranger things.

John felt more confident holding the baby with all of the brand-new baby supplies. He’d never questioned whether or not John Jr. was safe–after all, he was more than capable of taking care of one (1) baby–but carrying the supplies made him feel more responsible than he’d felt in a while.

“You’re in good hands, John Jr.,” he whispered, still balancing the supplies on his shoulder. The baby reached out and tugged at his beard, and he smiled. “We’ll get you back to your mama without another fluke. I promise .”