Chapter Text

betting pool

Short film.

On one crazy day in March 2025.

The television was on. A broadcast was being delivered by a television reporter standing outside in the morning in front of a crime scene. “…with reported sightings on Flint Markus, it is said that a team, or rather as he put it, a league of superheroes is currently being assembled to flush out the crime scenes that have been flooding the Flushing community recently. Over here we have the amazing Spider-Man himself. Mr. Spider-Man…”

“Please… just call me Spider-Man.”

“Okay, Spider-Man, is there any plan for the damaged infrastructure that has been caused by the siege and apprehending of Kraven the Hunter?”

“Yeah, we uh… we Avengers, we always volunteer to work with Damage Control to clean up the city. Under the Sokovia Accords, we try to minimize collateral damage as much as possible – which isn’t always an easy task with unruly supervillains, you know?”

“Yeah, don’t we know…” Morgan chuckled off to the television as she ate her rice cookie.

“Um, before you go, Spider-Man, do you have any message to the US President about the current situation with the filibuster?”

“What? No, dude, I’m a superhero, not a politician. Talk to the Mayor if you want input.”

“Yeah, but Spider-Man–”

“Krispy Kreme’s open, gotta run, bye!” As he shot his web and swung away, he corrected with a haywire wail, “I mean swing!”

“Spider-Man, wait!” The reporter attempted to chase him, but failed. The cameraman followed him a second after he disappeared from the frame. Morgan laughed watching this on television as she bit her rice cookie again. The reporter was a brunette with round-frame glasses on, a blue suit, white shirt and a red tie. He was as tall as six-feet and had prominent cheekbones. “Well, there you have it. With Kraven the Hunter’s apprehension this morning, the remaining members of the Sinister Six are still on the loose. Here’s hoping that the state of New York will finally be free from their reign with Spider-Man and the Young Avengers working endlessly to put them behind bars. I’m Carl Kyle and this is NBC News.”

“Come on, Morgan, we gotta get to school. Don’t wanna be late,” Pepper warned, throwing her purse over her shoulder and taking Morgan’s raised wrist. She had to pull Morgan away from the television.

She pointed her cookie to the television, saying, “Mom, it’s Peter.”

“I know,” Pepper said with a grin.

“He’s really saving the world.”

“Yes, he is, but he can’t save you from detention if we’re late. We gotta go.”

“Okay.” Morgan’s small six-year-old legs hopped about after her mother as they exited their cabin in the state of New York. Pepper got Morgan into the car at the back. Morgan hooked her seatbelt on by herself and then browsed her book on Advanced Analytical Geometry. What can I say? She was her father’s daughter.

Meanwhile on New Asgard.

“I take it she’s more of the timid type,” Thor said as he caressed the face of Valkyrie’s horse.

“She’s not. Just around strangers.”

“Strangers?” Thor turned around and looked at Valkyrie with disbelief. He threw his right thumb backwards to point at the horse, emphasizing, “I’ve been of her acquaintance for as lengthy of a time as with you. It’s been what? Eight years?”

“Precisely, yes… but she’s rather less fond of the Goldilocks type such as yourself,” Valkyrie joked with a smirk as she polished a blade of hers with a cloth. They were standing in a barn with lots of hay on the ground.

The horse behind Thor neighed, sounding like she was laughing at Thor. He rotated to view the amused horse again. “How entertaining this must all be for you.” Thor shook his head and looked away, muttering to himself, “I had less trouble befriending the Flora Colossus.”

“Lurking around to watch the sovereign of Asgard on her one day off partake in mundane tasks such as cleaning her horse surely cannot be the apex of your Monday, is it?” Valkyrie queried before returning to the horse with a fur brush.

“It might as well be. I already sent Captain America a message asking if he was in the mood to browse my prestigious catalog of MC Hammer vinyl records, but he has not responded to my message as of yet.”

“Aren’t those hammer jokes between the two of you getting old?”

“It’s exactly what he said,” Thor said, unknotting his hair before waving his blonde hair in the free air. He was fully suited in his classic armor. Don’t ask why though. “Actually, it was what Natasha said. She then insinuated that Captain America reserved the same sentiments internally.”

“Isn’t he your friend?”

Thor smiled with that classic dumb look on his face. “Well, technically, we’re best companions, or as Midgardians express, ‘besties’.”

“Then why not address him or refer to him as Steve? Captain America is not exactly a title, you know. You tend to be too formal.”

“Me? Too formal? The man who hangs out with Korg and chases crocodiles at the zoo?”

Valkyrie sighed. “I could’ve been hanging out with my girlfriend, but no… I had to have some alone time.” She criticized herself in judging, “Idiot.”

Back at the Stark cabin.

Tony, eating liquorice, sat in his chair in his tech room and was busy modeling a new blender. He was conversing with F.R.I.D.A.Y. “If we don’t get this done by the end of the day, Pepper’s gonna have me in the dog house again tonight.”

“Boss, I cannot understand why Miss Potts would propose such drastic ultimatums.”

“Yeah, well, neither can I,” Tony finished with a sigh. “Maybe it’s got something to do with the fact that I discovered time travel and all that mumbo jumbo.”

“Your humility always moves me, Boss.”

“If I had a dime for every time I heard that one…” Tony repositioned elements of his holographic board whereupon he was designing a new blender. “Just add the switches to the sides…”

“Remember not to make this blender look too much like something the Iron Man would house in his armor.”

“Pepper’s words verbatim.,” Tony shared whilst stretching his arms out and yawning before resuming. “My attempts to rebrand my family as armor-wearing people failed with Miss Potts, but worked on my daughter. Rhodey too. And the kid.”

“Do you miss the good old days, Boss?”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked as he kept on designing with his hands.

“The days when you were part of the Avengers?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., those days are long gone. I’m a retired man now. I’ve gotten grey.” Tony thought to himself with an alarmed mutter, “Becoming my dad, come to think of it…”

“Please don’t construe my prying as a means to coax you back into action as part of the current Young Avengers initiative. I only ask when last you kept in touch with the other Avengers besides Rhodey.” Tony pondered on that for a silent while. “Boss?”

“Yeah, I got you,” Tony affirmed and ate more liquorice. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., what time is it?”

“Quarter-to-two, Boss.”

“Good. We can resume before Pepper gets home. I have a soccer game to attend. Stark out.” Tony turned off the holographic board with a handclap and then ascended to put on his sunglasses and black cardigan.

The soccer game.

Tony sat on the benches where the parents and teachers sat to watch Morgan play soccer against her team’s opposition. He was wearing black sweatpants, an olive green sweatshirt with his black jacket over it, his sunglasses and white sneakers. He watched attentively and cheered for his daughter. “Let’s go, Morgan! You got this!” The other parents and teachers around him on the benches were also cheering for their kids and such.

Morgan collected the ball and passed it to her teammate, whom was in an offside position. The referee blew her whistle and it was ruled as offside. Moments later, Morgan received the ball from her teammate but failed to kick it in the right direction, so her shot was way off target. This recurred about six times. Then, the worst happened. The opposition got the upper hand in possession and attack and, whilst Morgan attempted to defend and chase her, she tripped and fell, colliding with the attacking player as they both fell. Bad news.

The referee gave Morgan a red card for misconduct. Tony was not happy. He was shouting angry words to the referee amidst Morgan leaving the pitch as is. Tony descended the benches and walked up to Morgan, whom, with her head sunk, walked past her coach – and he did not look impressed at all.

Tony crouched down ahead of her and received her. “Hey Morgan. What happened out there?”

Morgan, downbeat, slurred, “I fell.”

“I saw.”

“This sport sucks. It really sucks.”

“Come on, sweetie, come here…” Tony hugged her. “I’m sorry about this catastrophe. Some days are just better than others.”

“If I was an Avenger like you, Daddy, I would’ve won this stupid game by a landslide.”

“Morgan, being an Avenger doesn’t always mean winning. Being human too. It’s life, you win some, you lose some. Tony picked her up and rose to his feet with her in his one hand, offering, “Now, what do you say we fix you up some pancakes at the diner, huh? Just to put this game behind us?” Tony began to walk them away from the pitch.

She nodded frantically with her ponytail wagging. “Deal.”

“That’s my girl.”

Robinson’s Diner.

A strawberry milkshake, a cup of decaffeinated coffee and two plates of pancakes with cinnamon, syrup, Toblerone sauce and marshmallows, Tony and Morgan were having a feast. Tony was also reading the newspaper. “Daddy?”

“Yeah,” Tony responded as he browsed a political story in the paper. Something about Elizabeth Warren, perhaps.

“Did you know that Japan qualified for the FIFA World Cup next year?”

“Don’t they always qualify?” Tony queried as he drank his decaf.

Morgan shook her head. “Not always. Their first tournament was in 1998…” she looked up to think, “…I think. Yes!” She nodded. “It was 1998.”

“And when did these…” Tony rotated his right hand as he looked at her, “…these World Cups begin?”

“In 1930.”

“1930!?” Tony was surprised. “Wow.” Tony fell back with s sudden fright. He muttered to himself, “Wow, my daughter likes something that was around since Cap was born…” Tony asked her, “How many did America win?” Morgan laughed and took a bite off her pancake after slicing it with her fork and knife. “What?”

She swallowed what she chewed first (Pepper taught her to eat with finesse), then responded, “No, but they did reach third place once.”

“Once. When was that? Was it when we hosted?”

“No,” she shook her head and her ponytail wagged, “it was in 1930.”

“Also 1930. That’s cool. So how many teams qualify for this little globetrotting shindig?” Tony wondered.

“Well, it used to be sixteen… but then it was twenty-four… and then thirty-two… now it’s gonna be forty-eight.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“I can explain everything to you if you like.”

“Really? You can give your stubborn old man a crash course on soccer in just, let’s see…” Tony checked his watch, “…forty-five minutes?”

“Only if you call it ‘football’.”

“But we have football. American football.”

“Dad…” Morgan sidebarred with a deflated posture.

“Alright, alright. Lay the ol’ football regime on me.” Tony folded his arms and exhaled, preparing for the crash course and proceeding to feast.

That evening.

Suburbia… so to speak. It kinda was… but it was more of the white picket fence setup for the New York state. Away from the concrete jungle, we are in Albany now. There was a kitchen island, a kitchen that was on the one side with the living area on the other, a store room, an upstairs, two bedrooms, two bathrooms (one inside the master bedroom), and one library. It was a small one. Stark set this up. It was so quiet here, crickets could be heard chirping in the distance.

Ah… the simple life.

The dishes were being dried off. Black sweatpants, white t-shirt, muscles every-fricking-where. Yes fellow readers, I am unveiling Steve Rogers to you. He could hear his cells divide. It was so quiet. Peaceful. Happy. Nothing on his mind. Maybe just the one thing. He was thinking of a way to repair that pot that was bugging him earlier when he cooked dinner. Better just to call a handyman. Or not. Avenging alongside the likes of Stark for twelve years or so makes you learn a thing or two.

Footsteps. Her feet were shown. Legs too. She was barefoot. Steve was wearing black socks. Her anatomy was outfitted by blue shorts and pastel pink tee. Hair? Blonde. A reinvention. Her choice. Steve heard and smelled her incoming presence, smirking instantly. Her arms enfolding him from behind, pressing her body against his back. She exhaled serenely.

“That was a great shower.”

“Gotta hand it to you… you make fixing showerheads look much more appealing,” Steve stated as he finished drying off his plate. He placed the plate down on the sink and tossed the blue cleaning cloth aside before rotating to view her with a smile. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Thanks for doing the dishes.”

“Always.” Steve looked at her clothes. “Pink.”

“Yeah, you like it?” Natasha asked with a grin.

“It’s very girly.”

“I know, I know… averts my rough and tumble ragdoll ways… if you think about it, this is kinda your fault.”

“Me? What’s this have to do with me?”

Natasha gasped happily, waving her hair back and pressing closer to him, looking into his eyes and saying, “I don’t know… I guess you’ve just unlocked the woman in me…” Steve smiled before receiving kisses from her.

Meanwhile.

Keep in mind, it was eleven in the evening. Pepper, in her black pencil skirt, black spaghetti-strap vest and a white blazer with black heels. Her blonde hair looked perfect, straightened and very moisturized. She entered the tech room where Tony “worked” on some fun stuff. “Tony, it’s almost midnight.” She feared, stopping in her tracks, “Don’t tell me you’re discovering time travel again.”

“Pepper, once I discover something technological, I do it once and move on to something new.”

Pepper folded her arms impatiently. “The Iron Man suit?”

Tony defended in his rotating chair, “I’ve moved on from that now.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t do it just once.” Tony’s face turned a bit sour as Pepper moved closer again, viewing his holographic board and what was on it. “What the hell is this?” She attempted to decipher it.

“Guess.” Tony rotated on his chair with a smile.

“Another robotic suit for me?”

“No, but I can definitely work on that if you’re–”

Pepper shook her head and interrupted, “I am not doing that again for you.”

“Why not?”

“We agreed that it was strictly for birthdays. Meaning yours.”

“I don’t understand., you said you liked my latest Mark.”

“I liked it on you, Tony, not on me!”

“What about that suit?”

“What suit?” Pepper became defensive.

“That suit you wore when we were all fighting Thanos,” Tony reminded her.

“That was an emergency. A terrifying one.”

“Well, this could be one too.”

Pepper sighed, clutching her forehead. “What were we even talking about?”

Tony contemplated for various seconds. Pepper looked at the holographic display. Tony noticed her gazing and then it came back to him. “Right. Check it out. My latest creation.” He rolled his chair back and added, “Ta-da.”

“What is this? Some kind of… is this what I think it is?”

“Before you throw stones, it’s my way of getting everybody back together again.”

“Gambling? Tony! I…” Pepper’s posture deflated and she folded her arms, “…tell me what to say.” She really had her hands full with him, hehe.

“Look, I’m not catapulting everybody to Vegas to recreate Swingers (Happy Hogan multiverse…), I’m bringing them to the compound. I just… I’m scrambled. I hate the missions. I don’t also. I miss the guys and that’s always. All of them. Even that weird little rat with the Brooklyn accent.”

“You mean Rocket?”

“Yeah, that guy.” Tony sighed. “I miss the team, Pepper. I’m not… I’m not sentimental. It feels weird coming from me.”

“It does,” Pepper agreed with a scowl.

“Figured who I am doesn’t always match with all the rest. Why not involve money?”

“So you’re paying people to spend time with you now?” Tony’s mouth was apart, but words didn’t come out for a little while. Instead, he looked left to right in attempt to gather his thoughts. “Tony… look at me.” He did. Her arms, still folded, provided emphasis for her raised eyebrows as she laid down the law, saying, “You’re too hard on yourself. Hell, you’ve won a Nobel Peace Prize for God’s sake.”

“We can keep in touch… I mean, from my side, it’s a working recourse. Just wanna spruce things up a bit. Get everybody all… I don’t know, excited. Many won’t be in it for the money, Rogers alike, but then again many will. Maybe…” Tony exhaled, “…maybe it’s a final assemble. Something silly for once. No magic spacemen, no death, no purple Titans… and certainly no Sinister Six.”

“Parker’s on that right now.”

“Yeah…” Tony mused.

“Are you sure you really wanna do this? I mean, look at this…” Pepper viewed his holographic blueprints, “…it’s basically $250 million of your money that you’re putting up. There are other ways to make friends, you know?”

Tony joked. “It only worked on Rhodey. I’ve lost Vision, Banner, I’ve even lost Happy now. He’s all entangled with Peter’s aunt now.”

“He is?”

“You’ll be amazed at how much subtlety Happy lacks when he texts me.” Tony ran his hand through the back of his hair just for a bit before concluding, “I wanna see everybody again. Figured they’d need a pressing reason to drop by.”

Pepper understood his insane reasoning. This was not surprising. She was his better half. She sat on his lap and orbited her arms around his neck, emphasizing, “You’re eccentric, you have a big heart, you’re funny against everyone’s will,” Tony smirked, “and you’re committed to doing what you feel is best. For better or worse… anyone would be lucky to have a friend like you. No amount of money can put a price on that.”

Tony smiled and placed his hand on one of hers, responding, “Thanks.”

Pepper smiled at him and shook her head, thinking that her husband was such a drama queen. And an idiot at times. She got up and walked off, saying, “If you don’t go night owl in here about this, you can join me for a late night cap with a Netflix movie.”

Tony scowled and shook his head. “Hard pass, but thanks for the invite.”

Pepper blew a kiss to him and exited the room. Tony immediately collected his phone and dialed a number. Part of his saved contacts. He placed the call on speaker.

Steve and Natasha were busy necking on their sofa in the living area. He was above her and it was slow and intimate. Steve’s phone began to vibrate on the living area stand ahead of the sofa. The stand was made of wood and the sofas were black. Steve removed his lips from hers and reached for his phone. “Better not be those insurance guys again…” Natasha sounded rather dissatisfied by this abrupt pause in their kissing.

This was surprising. Steve looked to her. “It’s Tony.” Natasha knew that if Tony was calling Steve, there had to be a very serious reason. Still above her, Steve answered Tony’s call at this late hour, “Hello?”

“Cap, hey, you up?”

“I am… what’s going on, Tony? Everything alright?”

“Couldn’t be better. Listen um, how much time you got tomorrow morning? Say… 11am?”

“Um…” Steve thought, “…what are you asking me?”

Steve held the phone to his ear confusedly. Natasha was mouthing a question to him. Steve shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea why Tony was calling him. “To meet up. I’m sitting on something big here and I need your approval. Call it a coup de grace to get everybody on board.”

Instantly, Steve shifted off Natasha to sit on the tip of the sofa, worrying, “Oh God, Tony, what are you doing now?”

“Relax Grandpa. I’m not doing anything malicious. I’m planning a reunion. All of us. But with money. I’ll explain everything tomorrow. My place?”

Steve, confused, answered with a stammer, “Uh… o-okay? Sure…”

Tony smiled happily, rubbing his hands together in opposing vertical directions. “Great. I’ll uh… I’ll see you here. Have a great evening. Send the missus my regards.” He hung up the phone.

Steve gazed at his phone in total bewilderment. Natasha, anxious, asked, “What was that about?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t a clue. It’s better you come with.”

“Come with? Why? What’s going on?” Natasha was lost, but not as lost as Steve was.

The next morning.

“A betting pool,” Steve said to Tony with disbelief. They were sitting on the porch right outside Tony’s cabin. Natasha was sitting beside Steve on his left and Tony on their opposite side.

“Are you kidding me?” Natasha held her arms out with a flabbergasted demeanor.

“Think hard, Nat. Isn’t this the best way to get anybody to spend a month in the same compound with me?” Tony quizzed her.

“That still doesn’t make it legal. Gambling is illegal across almost all fifty states, Tony,” Natasha argued.

“Not all. California, for instance.”

“We’re not in California, Tony,” Steve imposed.

“Look, we won’t tell anybody. Forty-eight people. That’s all. And they’re in the compound. With rules. No posting on social media, no word of mouth tell-a-friend sorta thing…” Tony listed.

“Tony, this isn’t right. I’m all for an Avengers reunion, so to speak, but with money involved? I don’t want money from you,” Natasha insisted.

“That’s good, Goldilocks,” Tony poked fun at her dyeing her hair blonde. Natasha’s gaze at him turned cold. He finished his sentence, “but in time, you’ll see that the money and the stakes are what makes this whole thing fun. It’s gonna be great, but getting you two on board is really gonna be a convincing factor for most. Especially that Asgardian Marshmallow Man.” Steve and Natasha gave each other looks of doubt. “Guys… I know you both have some things you wanna do. Or need to do. A $200 million grand prize… if you win… will set you for life. It’s pocket change for me. You know this by now.”

“This isn’t about money, Tony,” Steve informed. “Does Pepper know about this?”

“Yes, and she’s on board. But she hasn’t chosen her team yet, citing ‘research’ as her reason.”

“And Morgan?” Natasha was already scared.

“Forbidden. Also underage. Pepper forbade me to involve her, even though she was my inspiration.”

“Tony…” Natasha started.

“Look, if you don’t understand football, I’ll get Morgan to give everybody a crash course when the time comes. She gave me one and it worked like a charm.”

“It gave you this idea, so I’d say it didn’t,” Natasha scolded.

“Are you criticizing my daughter? Really Nat?”

“I’m criticizing your methods of making and keeping friends. If you wanted us to be there and have a reunion – a proper one without betting and stuff, we’d be happy to come.” Natasha was quite outspoken about this. Steve was just analyzing Tony and the entire situation. She noticed and asked, “Steve?”

He weighed in. “I’m in.”

“Steve!?” Natasha was shocked.

“Nat…” Steve took her hand and explained, “…there’s nothing to give up. A lot to gain. More time with the team, more time with Tony…” Steve smiled at Tony, “…staying together is more important than how we stay together.”

Damn you Rogers. Why’d you have to quote me now? These were her thoughts. She groaned and obliged. “Fine, fine, fine. I’m in.”

“YES!” Tony curled his fist in victory.

“But dibs on Argentina,” Natasha claimed. Tony gazed at her with a grin of surprise. Natasha shrugged her shoulders. “What? You’re not the only one who knows about football. Always bet on Messi.”

“You’re just saying that because they won the previous World Cup,” Tony viewed.

“No, I’m saying that because it’s Messi. He’s the greatest of all time.”

Steve smiled at her and squeezed her hand into his before confirming to Tony, “I’ll go with USA.” Both Natasha and Tony gave him a look.

“Shocking,” Tony said sarcastically.

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