Alphabet Assemble (A Wrong Number Fanfiction)

Actual Bomb Macaroni |11|

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Instituting the Avengers insurance was relatively easy. It was done in a day, meaning that anyone affected by them during the last year was compensated for from the previous January and on. Including the kid with her car after Thor had a good hearted dispute and shot a piano out of the tower windows.

Thor wasn't here now, somewhere off in Asgard doing his warrior thing. Tony didn't worry too much about him.

As for the other Avengers, Tony had heard that Harley had tried to sneak into the main lab but the billionaire put a stop to that nearly immediately. Pep had taken him down to the business part of the tower so that he could help her, saying as he was her assistant.

Ginger Dip was somewhere in the training room with Steven. Tony might've locked them in there for a while but he'd never admit it.

His son (AKA Vision) and the little witch were reviving Clint who they had knocked out with a mind spell thing after he'd freaked out. The kid really did a number on him. (Truth be told it wasn't just Clint, Tony had stressed nearly the whole night.)

Buckaroo and the human airplane, of course were arguing in the kitchen while Bruce tried to tell them the benefits of getting things off their chest while having a quiet tea. Obviously, didn't go too well.

Like always, Tony was in his lab, tinkering away. Nano tech was a tough cookie to crack but he was a genius so he'd be fine.

The blue lights of the hologram screens bounced off of Tony's face, casting glows as the man tried to construct the formula.

"Stark, open the damn door!" Natasha's voice rang through the ceiling.

"Nuh-uh, Romanoff. Let's not be hasty, give Rogers a smooch then we'll talk," Tony instigated with a smirk, not diverting his attention from the hologram in front of him.

"Tony, this isn't funny. We've been in here for an hour," Cap responded tiredly.

"C'mon, if you really wanted out, Natasha woulda found a way by now," Tony droned slyly.

"Stark, now is not the time to mock my training. Who knows how that will have you ending up when I get out," Natasha threatened like it wasn't Tony's life on the line.

Clicking on the formula of components and expanding it, the billionaire rubbed his chin. "Uh-huh, right. If you get out. I'm not opening the doors until I hear about a lil' action. I'm tired of you guys not confessing, now get on with it," the billionaire encouraged condescendingly.

"Stark, you son of a gun," Steve complained.

"Enough whining, Stevie. You'll be fine--I know she can be scary but it'll be no less painful than tounge wrestling a piranha."

Tony could practically hear their eyerolls. That was a good sign.

"Jarvis," Tony said as a warning for him to turn off the audio in the room. "Bring up live feeds."

Immediatly, a screen of the training room popped up revealing Natasha in a stance of unrelenting rage and Steve, defeated on the floor. Guess we know who wears the pants in the relationship. Although, was it ever in question?

"Alright, anytime now, Natty," he muttered.

"What was that?"

Stark jumped out of his skin. Clutching his chest, he rolled back in the spinny chair.

"God save my soul," he mumbled as a very angry Natasha lunged at him.

Narrowly missing being trampled by the bull, Tony jumped out of his chair and headed for the elevator. Frantically pressing the button while trying to remain calm, the man tapped his foot as Natasha was nearing him. Practically on top of him, Tony knew he couldn't escape in time so as he scrambled toward the elevator while it opened, Natasha snatched him by the arm and pinned him.