FicWad

"Freaking finally!" Sheer relief infused Dean's voice as he pulled into the valet service for the tower.

Sam and Dean both craned their heads forward and peered up at the tower through the windshield. The sheer height of the building made it impossible to see the top. Almost everyone on the planet had seen the tower in some form of social media, be it on the news, twitter, Instagram, etc. So Sam and Dean knew what it would look like, but didn't understand what it would feel like. From their point of view it appeared endless. Bearing down on them, it's hundreds of windows felt like eyes, watching and judging.

Throughout their colourful career they'd met hundreds of people from all walks of life; rich, poor – they were usually indifferent. They both took a silent moment to feel outclassed, watching people rush in and out of the doors in obviously expensive apparel. They were both keenly feeling their SES at that moment.

"Fuck this noise." Refusing to feel inadequate, Dean aggressively got out of the car, making sure to slam the door extra hard.

Muddy boots, grease stained coats, and flannel chests on full display: the unofficial uniform of the Winchesters stuck out sorely as they entered the pristine lobby made up of chrome, leather, and glass.

Happy took his job as Head of Security very seriously (perhaps too seriously if one were to ask Pepper Potts.) His years acting as Tony Stark's driver and then bodyguard burned any shred of ignorance he had regarding the horrors of what people could achieve with the right amount of deranged motivation. Terrorism, organized crime, hell, even unorganized crime – Happy had seen it all. Not to mention the enhanced or otherworldly threats now plaguing the city.

This level of expertise equipped him with the ability to ascertain threats almost immediately, regardless of age, gender, or clothing. So the moment he spotted the two men enter the lobby he knew interception was required. Their clothing may have said 'Canadian Truck and Lumber', but their stance and sharp eyes said something much different. Something he would expect from SHIELD, military, or even the Avengers.

"Can I help you?" Dean's feathers were ruffled. 20 steps in and already they were being singled out by security in the form of a heavyset man with a head the size of a watermelon. Dean imagined it would feel like a wrecking ball to be head butt by that thing.

Sam quickly stepped up to prevent Dean from making some sort of unfortunate scene.

"Yes, thank you, sir." Shooting the guard a disarmingly self-deprecating smile, Sam continued. "We're the Winchesters. We're actually here to meet with Mr. Stark and the rest of the Avengers, but don't actually know where to go."

Happy's eyebrows shot up at the statement. Crazies these days were getting lazy. They didn't even try to make up some sort of credible alibi. Nothing to do with plumbing, electrical, internet, or anything that would allow them entry. Happy decided the best approach was to just gently lead them out of the building.

"Mr. Stark and the Avengers? No kidding. Well, let me just escort you to his office immediately!"

Grabbing an arm per brother, Happy turned them abruptly towards the front doors and tightened his grip as he propelled them forward. "His office is right this way. It's a discreet entrance. So discreet, in fact, it's not even in this building! So he doesn't get hounded. There's so many nutbars roaming around, you can never be too careful."

The brothers, quickly realizing they were considered nutbars in this scenario, started digging in their heels.

"Listen, Chuckles. Stark is actually expecting us. We met him earlier today. Just call him and tell him we're here." Dean held back a flinch as 'H. Hogan' (according to his badge) whipped his enormous head around to look at him. At this range, it'd be like getting bashed by a boulder. Instant death.

"I'd be more likely to believe you were dancing lumberjacks here to strip for Joanne from housekeeping's 66th birthday." Happy rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Stop wasting my time and get out."

Keeping his voice calm and rational, Sam tried to convince Happy they weren't insane or nefarious. "Sir, I know this must seem outlandish. We're aware we definitely do not look the part, but we truly did speak with the Avengers today. As well as Director Fury and an Agent Coulson at SHIELD."

At the mention of Fury and Coulson, Happy hesitated and stopped trying to shove them out the rotating doors. "How do you know about Fury and Coulson?"

Before either brother could answer, a female voice called out, "Sam and Dean Winchester?"

What the hell was Happy doing now?! It took everything Maria Hill had not to let out an exasperated sigh at Happy's over-zealous trigger finger. The man literally had Dean Winchester in a rough headlock while his hip was attempting to check Sam Winchester into the rotating doorway. Sam, the poor guy, had a death grip on the doorframe.

From somewhere near Happy's left armpit, Dean let out a muffled, "Here!" and waved an arm.

Sam let out a cautious, "Hello." while continuing to white-knuckle the doorframe.

"You can release them, Happy." Maria instructed.

"Miss Hill?"

"Tony is expecting them." Directing her attention to the brothers directly, she apologized, "I should've been here to greet you as soon as you arrived. My apologies. My name is Maria Hill and I will be accompanying you up to the Avengers."

Happy let go of Sam and Dean and they both took several giant steps away from him.

Sam stared at Happy incredulously. "Your name is Happy?! Seriously?"

"Should definitely have that changed to Asshole." Dean's was rubbing his neck. It was gonna hurt tomorrow.

At Happy's angry silence, Dean couldn't help poking the bear, "What, no apology? We are important guests – consultants, technically – of your boss. I'm sure he'd love to know just how awfully his staff treated us."

Glaring at the two, Happy uttered the most convoluted and dickish apology the brothers had ever heard, "I apologize that rational judgement dictated my actions, outweighing the inadvisable reality in which you are legitimate guests of Mr. Stark."

Dean pointed at Happy, "Dude. Rude." and made his way to Agent Hill with Sam.

Following her into the swankiest elevator they had ever seen, Sam and Dean did their best not to stare or touch. Glistening chrome and leather panels lined the walls, with touchscreen buttons glowing an electric blue. Hill hit the 'P' button and instantly the buttons were replaced with a handprint scanner onto which she placed her hand.

"Communal floor, please, Jarvis."

Sam and Dean jumped as a polished, British voice responded, "Of course, Miss Hill."

Maria allowed a little smile at their reactions before explaining, "That's Jarvis. He's Mr. Stark's A.I. and is responsible for almost everything in the tower. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to bring them up with Jarvis. You simply need to speak aloud and he'll hear you and respond from anywhere within the tower."

Sam couldn't believe it. He stopped looking at the ceiling (an instinctive reaction when a disembodied voice starts talking) and looked at his brother. Dean's eyes were as wide as saucers and his mouth hung open as he stared at Hill. He let out an embarrassing squeaking sound before he was able to find his words.

Dean reached out and ran a hand down the wall of the elevator. "Can he feel that?"

A distinctly amused tone coloured Jarvis' voice as he responded, "No, Sir, I cannot. I am able to see and hear through the cameras and speakers placed throughout the tower. I have no physical form – tower or otherwise."

So many questions. Sam had So. Many. Questions! Before he could wrangle his over-excited thoughts into even one coherent question, Jarvis spoke again.

"Here you are, Miss Hill, and Messrs. Winchester. Sir and the rest of the Avengers are waiting in the living room."

"Thank you, Jarvis."

"Of course, Miss Hill."

"Thank you, Jarvis." Sam and Dean spoke simultaneously, voices resonating awe.

Dean gave the wall another stroke, unable to help himself as he said, "You're awesome."

Jarvis' amused voice was notably warmer, "You are very welcome, Sirs."

If the boys thought the elevator was amazing, they had no words for the sight that greeted them when Jarvis opened the doors.

Chrome, leather, and floor-to-ceiling glass walls overlooking absolutely mind-blowing views of Manhattan – it was a lot to take in visually and mentally. They were so distracted by the views, they almost missed the Avengers sprawled out on the couches and chairs to their right.

"Hey! Things 1 and 2! Welcome!" Clint raised a beer in greeting from the big loveseat he was sprawled on.

Captain America and Tony Stark stood up, making their way over. There was a chorus of greetings from the rest of the group which also included Natasha and Bucky.

Sam let out a weak, slightly overwhelmed, "Hey."

Dean ignored all of them except for Tony. Forgoing polite greetings and words of gratitude for letting them stay here free of charge, he blurted out, "Please tell me you have a car collection. There is no way a dude who owns all this chrome and leather does not have an amazing car collection."

Tony smirked at Dean. "I might even let you look under a hood or two if I really like you." Dean whimpered a little at the prospect and took the beer Tony placed in his hand.

Sam watched as Dean nearly fainted from happiness and started muttering the word 'Batmobile'.

Somehow a fangirling Dean always seemed to snap Sam out of any surreal moment and ground him. Luckily for him, because when he stopped watching Dean he realized Captain America was standing right in front of him with his arm outstretched for a shake. Which Sam was quick to provide.

"It's a bit much to take in, huh?"

Sam chuckled. "Just a bit."

Steve gave a rueful smile and said, "Imagine seeing this after living in the 40's." Sam and Steve walked towards the rest of the group who were all sitting, drinking, and talking. Steve continued, "Have you met Jarvis yet?"

Dean was quick to answer, "He's awesome."

Tony looked thrilled that someone new was appreciating his creation and attaching a personal pronoun. "Yes, my baby is amazing. Way to make Poppa proud, J."

The only sound that came over the speakers was a slightly disgruntled sigh.

Tony looked at Sam and Dean and just shrugged, "Teenagers."

Once Sam and Dean had sat themselves down, Tony explained the tower, "So here's the rundown: this is the communal floor. Obviously kitchen-" Tony shot a thumb over his shoulder indicating the gourmet kitchen and dining table behind him –"and living room. This floor also has a deck area, a rec room with pool tables, etc., and a movie room. It also has a few guest rooms, which is where you guys will be sleeping for the next few days. In the above 7 floors are the housing suits. Everyone else gets their own suite – 2 per floor. Clint and Natasha each have a suit and share a floor, same with Bucky and Steve. And because his personal bubble is basically Hulk-sized, Brucie gets his own floor. And obviously I get my own floor. Because it's my beautiful building."

Letting out a breath, Tony flopped back and took a sip of his scotch. "God, that was exhausting. I'm exhausted."

Clint responded by throwing his toothpick into Tony's drink.

"Real mature, Pigeon!"

Steve rolled his eyes at pair of them and continued, "There's also a pretty intense gym –" Dean let out an 'Eww' while Sam's eyes lit up, "a meditation room, and a pool."

Maria spoke up from where she was on her laptop at the kitchen table, "We're unsure how long you'll be needed, but Director Fury would like to get started right away. Starting at 8am tomorrow morning, you have been scheduled to meet with SHIELD to discuss the situation in depth."

Dean let out a dry, "Fun."

"Indubitably." Maria stood, packing up her laptop, and made her way to the elevator. "I have a meeting with Agent Coulson, so I'm leaving. If you need anything, try not to ask Happy."

Tony perked up, "Why? What's wrong with Hap?"

Maria just smirked as the elevator doors closed.

Tony immediately knew what the problem was when Dean started to rub his neck, "So he's a bit excitable." Taking in Sam and Dean's unimpressed faces, he sighed, "I'll switch out his coffee again."

There was brief period of silence in which everyone just took stock of each other. Then Clint leaned forward and asked, "Hey, so where's Clarence?"

Sam and Dean paused, shocked. They exchanged glances and closely looked at Clint. Sam softly and hesitantly inquired, "Meg?"

With a WTF?! look on his face, Clint clarified, "Uh, no. I'm Clint, remember?" Miming shooting a bow and arrow, he further elaborated, "Aka Hawkeye? We literally met like an hour ago? Not to mention, I'm a dude." He made a sweeping gesture towards his genitals.

Bucky snorted, "There's not enough down there to convince anyone, Barton."

"Excuse you! At least I don't look like I'm wearing a $20 hobo weave!"

"Dames love it. I was hit on last week." Bucky boasted.

Natasha wryly spoke up, "She was a 80 year old blind lady that you helped with feeling up ripe fruit. She said you had good plum squeezing hands. If she had seen your hair she'd have plum squeezed solo."

The group cringed at the imagery, Natasha included. "I've grossed myself out."

"Delightful, Romanoff. And on that gag-worthy note, why don't I show the guests their rooms." Tony stood and beckoned Sam and Dean to follow him.

"If you guys stay long enough, I'll show you the best places to crash." Clint offered mischievously.

"No one wants to see your ventilation vacation rentals, Megan." Tony gestured towards Sam. "I don't even think the big one will fit in the vents."

Sam felt slightly affronted, even though he had no desire to crawl around in the building's ventilation system. These people were a bit weirder than he had imagined.

In typical Dean fashion, his brother was fitting right in, "That'd be epic for pranking. Happy could use a laugh. Maybe it'd help relieve some of the pressure off that boulder holder he calls a neck."

"You leave Happy alone! His blood pressure is high enough." Tony ushered them past the kitchen and into the hallway towards their rooms. "Clint practically lives in the vents some days. He's slept in the vents more than he's slept in his bed. But if you're any sort of normal, these accommodations should appeal to you far more than any air duct system."

Opening their door, he advised them that the handle was already coded to their handprints.

"Jarvis scanned your hands for prints while you were in the elevator and coded the handle to you two specifically. It'll lock once it's closed and only the two of you, myself, and Jarvis can unlock it."

Dean looked at the handle in wonder. "Jarvis, man, if you had a fist, I'd bump it."

"The sentiment is more than enough, Sir."

Opening the door revealed a beautifully decorated living room. There was a small kitchen, an island/bar, and a bathroom. All done in the same chrome and leather as the main room. There was a hallway to the right of the living room which Sam and Dean assumed led to their bedrooms.

"Wow. This is great. Thank you. We'll have to get our bags from the car later." A thankful Sam made his way to check out the bedroom.

"Definitely beats motel-ing it with Sammy over here. Speaking of motels, have you heard of the luxury item known as Magic Fingers?"