Author's Note: movie-verse, operate under the idea that they all live in Stark/Avenger tower together. Post Avengers movie time wise. Just a one-shot, pure fluff
Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Avengers or any of the characters involved on the show. :[
Duties of a Captain
Steve did not like this part of the job, partly because the last time he was in this position he'd had multiple objects chucked at his head. Yet it came with the position and Fury had conveniently, or strategically, Steve wasn't sure which, scheduled it on the day he was out of the office-every year for the past 3 years. Now that Steve thought about it he wasn't even entirely sure this duty 'came with the position' as Fury had so adamantly claimed.
This year Steve had contemplated starting with the worst first, a tough call since in his mind they were equally terrible, but ended up unable to choose. He knew without a doubt who he wanted to be last, so he went with that, planning his method of attack based on where he wanted to end. Steve approached Bruce's lab and knocked. Bruce opened the door and eyed the contents of Steve's hand wearily.
"Joy," he muttered.
"You're telling me," Steve mumbled, "Shall we?" He gestured to the disaster-aversion room, as they liked to call it.
"Remember last time...inject and run," Bruce warned.
Steve nodded, "Oh, I remember." He waited patiently while Bruce stripped down to his boxers.
"Should I wait or..." he asked.
"Just come back when you're done. I'm not sure how long he'll be with us this time," Bruce replied. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, "Ready."
Steve quickly wiped a small patch with alcohol, "Here it goes." He quickly pushed the needle into Bruce's arm and injected the medicine. Almost immediately the gentle doctor began to change. Steve quickly darted out of the room and locked the door just as Hulk tried to smash through.
"I'm sorry, big guy," Steve apologized as Hulk glared at him from inside the room. After a waiting a minute to ensure things were going as planned he left and hurried to Natasha's. He had to admit he and Bruce had the whole ordeal down to a science, and while Bruce had no problems with receiving a flu shot, the Other Guy did.
Steve knocked and poked his head into Natasha's room. Natasha was sitting idly at her desk, a throwing dagger twirling effortlessly around her fingers.
"Show me your hands," she ordered.
Steve sighed and held up the needle. He quickly ducked behind the door as the knife lodged itself in the door where his head had been. "Every year!" he shouted.
"You should learn," came the reply.
"No more knifes," he ordered.
"No shot," she countered.
"You have to-" he began.
"Wrong answer!" Another knife joined the first.
Steve cursed silently, "What's it going to take this year?" he asked, still behind the door.
"New gun," came the quick reply.
"Fine. What type?" he asked, Fury owed him.
"One of the new ones SHIELD just got," she paused, "without the safety modifications."
That'd be a little harder. "Fine," he said. "You have my word," he paused, "will you get your shot now?"
The door was pulled open and Steve came face to face with Natasha. She offered her bare arm and stood still while Steve injected the medicine. "Thank you," he said once done.
"Likewise. A pleasure as always," she offered a small smile.
Steve just nodded and left, heading to Clint's. He knew, at least he had his strong suspicions, that Natasha did not mind shots. Rather, saw them as opportunities for new weapons, gear, or favors she'd never get otherwise. But appeasing her requests was easier than sparring for the shot, so he let it slip.
"Jarvis, where's Clint?" he asked.
"The roof, Sir. He knows you're coming."
Steve sighed. Natasha must have tipped him off. "Thanks. Alert me if he moves."
"I will, Sir," Jarvis replied.
Steve took the elevator to the roof and stepped outside, feeling the wind rush past. Not the best day to be climbing buildings after Hawkeye. He scanned the highest and most dangerous areas, knowing Clint would be in one of them. His eyes finally settled on Clint's form, sitting lazily on the highest part of Stark tower. When he noticed Steve he moved off his perch and onto the crane jutting out over the street. Steve cursed Tony's obsession to install updates so often. "Jarvis, please turn Barton's comm on."
"Morning, Capt'n," Barton's voice came through cheerfully.
"What're the odds you'll come down this year and make my life easier?" Steve asked. He knew the answer.
"Sorry, Cap't. Where's the fun in that?" he asked. "Besides, I wouldn't want you missing this great view."
Steve sighed, "Same deal?" he asked.
"Yepp. If you can get to me in 5 minutes I won't give you any more trouble. Otherwise, you've gotta catch me."
Steve put the syringe in his mouth. "Start timing," he said between gritted teeth just before starting to climb.
Clint was silent save the occasional time check and Steve was carefully edging out onto the crane to meet Clint when he called time. Clint moved the remaining way to Steve. "You're getting faster," he congratulated. He pulled up his sleeve and Steve gave him the shot, careful to not look down.
Clint clasped him on the back and Steve tensed, gripping the beam. While he didn't necessarily fear heights, he didn't enjoy them a whole lot either. "Come on, Rogers. I'm probably the easiest one, one of at least," he grinned.
"You would be at ground level," Steve replied, inching his way back down.
"Where's the fun in that?" Clint asked, moving effortlessly around their leader as he climbed down.
"Can you come with me to Thor's?" he asked.
"Is he going to attack me with mjolnir?" Clint asked.
Steve shook his head, "No, I just need someone with him after I inject him," he paused, "to keep an eye on him."
Clint shrugged, "sure." He followed Steve to Thor's room.
Thor opened the door and grinned, "friends!" he greeted warmly. He noticed what Steve was holding and his face paled. "It is that time again?" he asked reluctantly.
"Sorry, big guy," Steve said.
"Can Asgardians even catch the flu?" Clint asked.
"I have wondered that myself, archer." Thor said, taking a seat on the bed. "If not I'd opt out of the shot, but Director Fury knows not if we are susceptible to Midgardian disease. He, however, belongs to the better safe than sorry camp," Thor explained, wringing his hands nervously.
Clint frowned, noticing his nervous behavior. "Thor, do you not like shots?" he asked.
Thor threw a quick glance at Clint before returning his focus to the needle in Steve's hand. "I am not fond of them, no," he replied.
Steve turned to Thor, "ready?"
Thor nodded, but remained silent.
Steve moved slowly to Thor's arm and disinfected a patch then brought the needle to his skin. No sooner had the needle touched Thor's arm did he slump over, unconscious.
Clint and Steve caught him and eased him back onto his back.
Clint looked bewildered, "did he just faint?" he asked.
Steve nodded, "every year, every needle prick."
Clint let out a deep laugh, "Thor Odinson- king of Asgard, ruler of Earth, god of thunder- faints at the touch of a needle," he grinned.
"Can you watch him? He should be up in a few minutes," Steve said, "I have to go corner Tony."
Clint, still grinning, nodded. "Sure," he glanced at Thor's slack form. "How far the mighty fall," he muttered.
Steve arrived at Tony's lab and punched in the code before entering.
"Jarvis, tell Capsicle I don't have time for a flu shot," Tony said, welding goggles on.
"I heard him," Steve said before the AI could relay the message. "Come on, Tony. I don't have time for this today," Steve grumbled.
"Neither do I. I always get sick after the shot and I do not have time to get sick. We can reschedule. I'm free next year," Tony retorted.
"Nope, now," Steve followed Tony around the lab, clambering over obstacles Tony threw at him. "The faster you do this the faster I'll leave you alone and you can get back to work," he reasoned.
Tony feigned thought. "Temping, but this is more fun." He moved behind a laser, "why don't you do the other goons first?"
"You're the only one left," Steve replied.
"Interesting," Tony said. "Did Banner go all rage monster on you again?"
Steve nodded, "Stop moving," he ordered.
"No," Tony replied. "I'm worth billions, if I get sick I can buy a cure," he said.
Steve sighed, "Just man up and take the damn shot...Fury's orders," he snapped.
"Well, I don't see Fury here, do you?" Tony asked. "If he wants me to get it he can come and do it himself."
Pepper walked in, "do what himself?" she asked.
"Tony won't get his flu shot," Steve said, holding the shot up.
"Really?" Pepper asked. "Here," she took the needle from Steve.
"No," Tony said, predicting her move.
Pepper just smiled. "If you don't take your shot, I won't," she leaned in to whisper in his ear, "got it?" she asked.
Tony stared at her, "you wouldn't," he dared.
"Wouldn't I? Jarvis, cancel all of-" she began.
"Fine!" Tony yelped.
He rolled up his sleeve and allowed Pepper to inject it. She handed the empty case back to Steve.
"Thank you," he said relieved.
"You just have to know his trigger," she smiled and winked.
Steve nodded then headed down to Banner's lab to let Bruce out. He found Bruce, fully clothed, sitting on the floor calmly. On sight of Steve he stood.
"You were fast this year," he noted.
"Pepper helped me decrease Tony time by half," he replied.
Bruce nodded, "wise." Bruce followed him out of the fortified room. "Need help with your shot?"
Steve shook his head, "Already done, thanks." He parted with the doctor and made his way back to his room.
Once behind the safety of his closed door, he pulled out the final shot. He hastily emptied the contents into the sink. He hated shots, absolutely despised them. Plus, with the super soldier serum he didn't even think he could get it that badly, if at all, for one. For another, everyone else around him had been vaccinated, and he spent all of his time with them. If he didn't catch it from them, who else did he see enough to get him sick?
It was his little secret, and he knew if anyone ever found out all of his authority in the matter would be ruined. They were unruly enough as it was and Steve didn't even want to think about what the others would say, or do, to him if they knew he was a hypocrite. Still, he had no regrets. He was the leader, not to mention at least a few decades their senior-that had to count for something, right?