personalapocalypse | MCU/AoS ficlets (Various, see headers)

I ended up writing a surprising amount of MCU ficlets during a challenge week at

fic_promptly, and a couple of bits specific to Agents of SHIELD, as well. (I have class at the same time the new shows come on, so don't spoil me for the newest episodes yet, please. I'll get caught up when I can.)

Title: Goodbyes
Characters: Steve + Natasha
Rating: SFW. Set after CA:TWS.

"I've got your number."

Steve shook his head as Natasha walked away, looking appropriately casual in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. From someone else, a statement like that would've sounded appropriately threatening. From a woman like her, who was known for her uncanny ability to disappear, it was more of a promise that he'd see her again, and that was good. He'd hate to see her disappear forever.

Of course, he doubted she'd actually call before she showed up. She hardly ever did. Most of the time she would be sitting in a lobby, or she'd show up as the secretary when he went to do some mundane thing. For such a down-to-earth woman, she certainly did have a flair for the theatrical. (Sometimes it made him want to look into her past, but it didn't feel right, not with her.)

He turned around and walked away; he had his own problems to deal with. Hopefully it wouldn't be so long between visits this time.

Title: Countdown
Characters: Steve + Natasha
Rating: SFW. Set between Avengers and CA:TWS.

Everything in Times Square was more colorful than Steve remembered. The brightly-lit crystal ball that hung over the proceedings was no exception. The one he remembered (every year with Bucky, until the year that his best friend had gone overseas) had been incandescent bulbs mounted on wrought iron, solid but simple.

He supposed that most people would've said that was the difference between the Greatest Generation and the world today. But most people didn't have the luxury of being able to make an accurate side-by-side comparison. Besides, he remembered the party atmosphere in the square when he'd been young, and it hadn't been much different from this. They probably would've loved to be surrounded by so much light.

"Anything like you remember?" he heard Natasha say beside him, between bites of a candy apple. She'd offered him one too, but he'd declined; they never quite tasted the same as he remembered. Sooner or later he'd figure out how to make a proper one at home.

"It's gotten brighter," he said, understating the point significantly.

"Just wait until midnight." She gave him that familiar sideways smile.

He chuckled, crossing his arms. He looked very much like any other guy from New York City, now that he'd gotten used to this century's idea of casual dress. It was a bit rumpled, but reliable sources (mainly Natasha) told him that he could pull it off. "Can't wait."

Title: Faking It
Characters: Steve
Rating: SFW. Set during Avengers.

Steve hated trying to be something he wasn't.

Trouble was, he didn't think he had a choice. He respected some of the others on their own - not all of them, but Tony was a special case - but as a team? Without someone steady to lead them, they'd fall, or worse. They might do more damage to the world than the threats they were supposed to be fighting.

Steve knew a lot about authority, even though he hadn't particularly liked it; authority was the weapon that bullies used to hurt the weak. Still, a lot more people would be hurt if he couldn't muster up enough to lead them, and so he mustered it the only way he knew how. He pretended to be someone he wasn't, the kind of American that people would've imagined could have come from the Forties, as if everyone in that decade had been the same. It was ridiculous, but it would put them on familiar ground, and that was what they needed.

It'd be nice if he never have to pretend to be someone again, but he didn't have high hopes.

Title: Carnival
Characters: Steve
Rating: SFW. Set sometime after CA:TFA.

Steve pushed his way through the crowds of revelers, laughing and shouting along with them. He needed to blend in, look like another tourist down in New Orleans to enjoy the fun. The silver domino mask and strings of multicolored beads around his neck helped, but he had to act the part, too.

He’d never been this far south before the crash, but he’d known a little bit about Mardi Gras. He’d seen the old pictures and videos, people in costumes laughing and dancing; he’d even gone to a Carnival - themed party in New York. (It had been one of Bucky’s double dates, the kind that usually had Steve alone and Bucky with two girls hanging off of his arms, until Bucky had said good-night to them both and they’d headed back home.) He remembered the costumes - bright colors, men and women both in drag from time to time, ladies showing off their long legs and shoulders and laughing happily as their best guys kissed them in full sight of the others. It was like having all of the rules that they took for granted suspended.

He didn’t think it had changed much over the last decades, he’d decided. Sure, things were flashier, just like Times Square had been brighter the first time he’d seen it after waking up. And sure, there was less costume and more flesh than he remembered. But the feeling was the same, the sense that the rules were out the window, although he had a feeling that the rules might’ve been a little less strict to begin with. Anything would go on Bourbon Street that day, and Steve had a feeling that it wasn’t always as much fun as it looked, then or now.

Maybe he’d come back another year, when he wasn’t busy... but just maybe.

Title: Toymaker
Characters: Tony/Rhodey
Rating: SFW (Alcohol use)

“...but you know, Rhodey, I’ve had you pegged since day one.”

“Yeah?” Rhodey grinned; Tony’s banter was always more entertaining after a couple of drinks. “You’re the expert at reading people now?”

“Eh, sometimes. I usually just leave that to Obie, he likes that kind of thing.” Tony shrugged. “But I can read you.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Read me. Tell me what makes me tick.”

“Well, you didn’t have a whole lot of money as a kid, right? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong here, but your mom was more about God than about physical things, so you didn’t get many new toys.”

“Mmm.” He held up a finger. “Right so far, right so far.”

“Well, you’re military, so you’re the kind of guy who wants to play with the toys he never got, right? Guns, planes, tanks, whatever.” Tony leaned back on the sofa, the one that cost more than Rhodey would probably make in half a year. “And I’m the toymaker.”

“Toymaker?” Rhodey repeated, trying not to laugh. “You serious?”

“’Course I am. I design this stuff. It’s what I do, it’s what my dad did... it’s just who I am.” He shrugged, waving his drink in a careless, expansive gesture over the sofa. Hell of a thing to do over something that cost so much, but Rhodey figured that money didn’t mean much to him. “I get VIP access to all of the best toys.”

“Tony... ha! Wow, Tony.” Rhodey took another drink from his cup, but not a big one that time. Something was nagging at him, something about what Tony had said, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The drinks probably weren’t helping - was Tony making him stronger drinks because he wanted Rhodey to loosen up? Or did he always drink like this?

“Yeah, see? I got this, right?” Tony was smiling, but the nagging feeling grew stronger and stronger. “You even get to see the good stuff before it hits the market. Sounds like a good deal to me.”

“Huh.” Rhodey put the drink down, closed his eyes for a second. It was something in his tone... and then it clicked. “That’s what you think of yourself?”

“Um, well, I don’t have to think anything. This company came with the name.”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s not what I meant.” He put the drink down and looked Tony in the eyes. It wasn’t easy - he was buzzed, and that meant his balance wasn’t up to par - but it worked. “You think that’s all you’ve got for me? Toys?”

“Um. Well.” Tony cleared his throat, looked away, and basically did everything that could’ve possibly tipped an interrogator off. And Rhodey had gotten a lot of training about interrogation. “I’m sure it helps at least, right?”

“Tony. Come on. You think I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t... what? Smart, rich...”

“...good looking?” Tony supplied, still looking away. He started to go for the bottle, but Rhodey reached out a hand, and Tony paused.

“Okay, look at me. Listen.”

“I don’t have to look at you to listen -“

“I know,” Rhodey interrupted, “but you’d be doing me a favor. Please.”

“Okay, sure. Fine.” Tony looked up at him very deliberately, staring him down. “This work?”

“Yeah. Good enough.” Rhodey leaned towards him. “I don’t care about any of that stuff as much as I care about you, okay? If you had a scandal tomorrow, if you went broke -“

“Uh-oh. Better knock on wood -“

“- then I’d still have your back.” Rhodey talked right over him. When Tony was in this mood, sometimes that’s just what he had to do. “I’m serious. If you get in trouble, and there’s something I can do to keep you safe, then that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Tony looked at him for a bit longer, because he was a smartass. But he dropped the act quickly enough, raising his eyebrows and lowering his glass without pouring another. “Okay,” he said. “Great. Let’s hope I never have to hold you to that.”

“Amen to that,” Rhodey answered. “So you sure you had me pegged?”

“Well, I might’ve gotten some of the details wrong,” Tony admitted. “But I was right about the toys, right? I know I got that.”

“Well,” Rhodey said, dragging it out just for the hell of it. "Yeah, sure. Maybe a little.”

"Called it." Tony stood up, surprisingly steady for a guy who'd been drinking so much. Rhodey was going to have to keep an eye on that. "C'mon, let me show you what I've been working on for the last week. You're gonna love it."

Title: Public Face
Characters: Tony/Rhodey
Rating: SFW (Alcohol Use)

Tony didn't look like a man who wanted out of a party. He looked as facile as ever, holding a half-empty wine glass in one hand and drawing a circuit diagram on a spare napkin with the other. Well, probably a circuit diagram. Rhodey had seen them before, but nothing that complicated.

The rest of the table noticed Rhodey before Tony did; he was genuinely absorbed by his diagram, and only looked up after he was done. "Oh, hey, Rhodey," he said, grinning. "Fancy meeting you here."

"I was in the neighborhood." He tried not to let his discomfort show. Everyone else there was in evening wear, and there he was in his uniform. One of the nice ones, and he had it on good authority that he looked damn good in it, but that didn't make him feel less out of place.

"Great, great." He raised his voice. "Hey, folks, my buddy here - you've heard of him, right? Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes, big military hero?"

"Tony, please," Rhodey said, shaking his head.

"What? It's true. Anyway, I've gotta introduce him to a few folks. You can keep the napkin." He got up, leaned in close as they turned away. "Thank God," he said quietly. "Get me out of here."

Rhodey smiled and nodded, as if Tony had said something funny, and waved to the rest of the table. A few of them waved back; most of them were still staring at the napkin.

"Do we need to make arrangements for the car?" Rhodey asked, sotto voce, when they were out of earshot.

"Jarvis is on it. Pepper's okay, right?"

"Yeah, she's off with Happy, handling something."

"Good. Glad she sent you." They were outside now, and Tony's smile was a great deal less charming. "They offered me a ride, but. Yeah."

Rhodey nodded. He'd been with Tony the day he found out about his parents. "Yeah. I know."

They reached the car, and Rhodey helped him into the passenger side. Tony was drunk and stiff at the same time, and Rhodey didn't miss the soft groans that accompanied his movements. Tony hid it well, even in front of him, but not well enough; Rhodey had seen enough proud, wounded cadets to know when somebody was in pain and trying not to show it.

They drove without speaking for a while. He let Tony fiddle with the stereo, looking for a decent rock station with little success; they were few and far between in this part of the state. After a while he gave up and leaned back. "You've gotta get satellite radio or something," he muttered.

"It's not worth the money. I'd never listen to it."

"Yeah, I forgot. Mr. Practical over here doesn't pay for luxuries." Tony laughed a bit at his own joke, but it stopped almost immediately. "Still. Glad you came."

"Not a problem." And it wasn't a problem, not that evening. He hadn't interrupted any meetings or anything. "Surprised to see you up and about already. You took a hell of a hit out there yesterday."

"It didn't exactly breach my armor -"

"It knocked you down, Tony. You had to have felt that."

"Couple of bruises at most. I'm fine, Rhodey."

"Okay, right." It wasn't worth arguing about. Tony was the most stubborn man he'd ever met. Still, he'd probably keep arguing if Rhodey didn't change the subject. "You don't have to do this society stuff all the time."

"Hey, I'm a social guy. People expect it."

"And you're gonna do stuff just because other people want you to do it? Doesn't sound like you, Tony."

"It's different. Makes people feel comfortable." He leaned back in the seat, closing his eyes. "It's the truth they're afraid of."

Rhodey made himself keep his eyes on the road. "Didn't think you were drunk enough to be that honest."

Tony's chuckle was cold, and not charming at all. "Know what the funny thing is? I'm not."

Title: Flower Dress
Characters: Raina
Rating: SFW

Raina loved flowered dresses, loved the bright colors that stood out against a drab world, like the clothes that her grandmother had worn; someday she hoped that she would become something so bright, something that would stand out against the uncaring and unseeing humans who had always surrounded her. She wanted to live her life as a thing of beauty, something that enticed the eye, so that they would never know to be afraid of what would lie beneath.

She had lost so many of her dresses, though, and every time she thought of them she mourned their loss; if it had been up to her she would've kept them all in a great closet and loved them, even when she could no longer wear them, when they were old and worn and faded.

Title: Behavioral Analysis
Characters: May/Coulson
Rating: SFW. Between "The Magical Place" and "TAHITI."

"You're still looking at those files."

Coulson looked up as May walked into his office, pushing the files to the side. "I guess I was," he said, smiling sheepishly. "No need to deny it this time, huh?"

"We talked about this," she said, ignoring his attempt at silliness.

He shook his head, dropping the smile immediately. "I know. But I can't stop looking at it. I keep hoping for some kind of answer."

"You've read them backwards and forwards, Coulson." She stopped in front of his desk, doing her best to frown down at him. She wasn't lacking in sympathy - far from it. But he was only torturing himself. She knew there wasn't anything else for him in there, because she'd talked to the man who had given it to Coulson in the first place. "If there were answers, you would've found them by now."

He stared down at the file, tracing over the text with his fingertips. He seemed to linger on the clearance level, tracing over the number 10 again and again. "I wish I could tell you how it felt," he said.

May looked down at the files. "The process, you mean," she said.

He nodded. "I can't describe it to you, May," he said softly, staring at the files. "There's just no way to express what it felt like. I was dead, and everything had stopped... but then I was alive again, and all I could feel was pain." He glanced over at her. "You know what it feels like when your foot falls asleep, and then you move around and it's all pins and needles?"

She sat down at the desk across from him. "Yes," she answered.

"Okay. Well, it's... it's nothing like that. Not really." He gritted his teeth. "But I could feel everything... every cell coming back to life. And none of them wanted to be alive again. It hurt, May. I didn't want to feel pain like that ever again. I wanted to rest. I wanted -"

"I know," she said as gently as she could, interrupting him. "You wanted to die."

"I was already dead," he said, staring her in the face. "I just wanted to be left the way that I was."

She nodded, saying nothing. He would need her to listen more than anything else, she thought. Besides... she needed to know what he was thinking, what he was feeling. She was reporting to the only person who was more concerned about Coulson's welfare than she was.

He held her gaze for a few seconds longer, then lowered his eyes, chuckling to himself. "Don't worry," he said. "I know how that sounds, but I'm alive now. I plan to stay that way."

"Glad to hear it." May had been concerned about that at first, she had to admit. But Fury had assured her that Coulson wouldn't go that route. She was very grateful that he'd been right. "But you need to stop reading that file. It's just going to keep hurting."

He nodded. "I keep thinking that if I keep reading it, I'll see something different. This'll all end up being a bad dream. But... that's not going to happen." He shook his head. "I just wish I knew why."

She stood up slowly. "When we see Fury," she said, "we'll get some answers. I'll back you up." And that was from the heart, as well - Fury hadn't given her any reasons, either. She would've insisted on hearing them, if she'd realized how much pain they'd put him through.

"I know, May. But hearing you say that... it means a lot." He smiled. "I'll... try to put this aside for a while, work on some other reports."

"Good." She stood up, turned around. She didn't know how long his distraction would last, but it was something.

"May," he said, just before she left his office. "Thank you."

She turned back to him, nodding. "Of course."

If only Fury would clear her to tell him the truth, she would've told him by then. But... Coulson would've been the first person to tell her to trust the system, and Fury was the system. If he didn't think it was time for Coulson to know, then she'd follow orders. But she hoped Fury would change his mind soon.