Kenzi’s Drink that Eats Like a Meal

Step One: Go To Trick’s.  It has been a good day, you deserve time with the Trickster.

Step Two: Ask for a Bloody Mary.  Lots of pepper.

Step Three: Ask for a mug and crackers.  Hey, technically these things are free!

Step Four: Put Bloody Mary in mug, with crackers.  This is now soup.  Make faces at anyone that dares to judge your greatness.  IT EVEN COMES WITH A VEGETABLE.  When questioned, ask for a spoon.

Step Five: Get Guinness.  It is technically bread.  Bread and soup is technically dinner.  You now have a meal!

Step Six:  Get a cup of coffee to wash down your soup with.  Add some whiskey to that coffee.  You are a genius.

Step Seven: If you decide you want dessert, fruity girly drink + whipped cream makes a great choice.

Step Eight: Snoopy dance to celebrate yourself, then actual dancing because tonight is going to be as good as today was.

Usually when she entered a bar, the whole place went silent.  Not this bar, though.  This bar was The Longest Rhodes, one of the rowdiest bars in one of the most dangerous ports this side of the ocean.  This bar was practically home — the closest she came on land, anyway.  The fights might’ve stopped, and a few ‘gentlemen’ of less than earnest persuasion might pull their hatbrims down, trying to look inconspicuous — but only the ones who didn’t know her personally.

Most bars, when a woman like Captain Carol Danvers walked in, the music stopped.  It’d rattle to a halt while everyone tried to work out what kind of mood she was in.  She had a reputation, see, violent but fair, and she expected the rest of the world to be just the same.  If she’d heard you were taking advantage, she’d come after you in a heartbeat.

Most bars, she got instant respect from the silence — but this bar, the musicians elbowed each other and cheerily, awkwardly transitioned over to a reeling, madcap version of ‘Here Comes the Bride’, each one grinning without a hint of remorse.

“Yer shitheels, every one of you,” Carol called over, but she was laughing, and she’d come prepared for this kind of nonsense —  she fished a small leather purse out of her pocket and chucked up on the stage, just to make them stop.

“It’s what you get for makin’ an honest gent out of our barkeep,” the fiddle player yelled back, and the whole bar roared with laughter as the music tumbled back to something worth singing to, some shanty or another about just what was under the mermaid’s tail.

“Captain.”  The barkeep in question gave her a stern look.  "Causing trouble in my establishment already?“

"It’s not my fault you hire so many insolent bastards, Rhodes.”  She reached over the bar to get a grip on his lapel, and he let her pull him into a kiss, full aware the whole damn place was watching and — after the first few seconds — whistling and rattling their cups appreciatively.  

He swept off her hat, and her hair fell, hiding them from view for just a moment.  ”Hey, you,” she said, forehead pressed against his.

“Welcome back,” he said, voice rough with welcome.  "You get paid?“

"Paid and not shot,” she said, cupping his jaw with her fingers.  "Your man Tony knows his ships.  Got me in and out and no one the wiser.“

"Don’t tell Tony.”  He grinned as they leaned back at last.  "He’ll get a big head.  Next round’s on the captain!“ he added, loud enough for the whole room to hear; they roared their approval.

"Speaking of insolent bastards.”  She put her hat back on her head with a snort.  "You’re going to pay for that later, my husband.“

He put a hand to his chest and bowed like the gentleman sailor he’d once been.  ”I look forward to it, my queen.”

Tony barged into the Law Review office just as the meeting was getting started, and Pepper took a minute to look upwards accusingly, as if the universe itself were directly responsible for this nonsense.

“Tony.  You can’t be in here.  Out.  Out.  Sorry everyone, give me five minutes.  Natasha, can you just get started without me?  Thanks.”

She hustled him out of the room and took a breath to keep from raising her voice as she talked over him, ignoring what he was saying.  "You know better, Tony, you know the editorial board meets on Tuesdays…“

”…. not even going to argue again that Moot Court is intrinsically better to prepare you for…“

”… you know that this is extremely important to me and that it’s the wrong time of year for you to be you….“

”… and I know you keep saying you’re not going into litigation, which I think is ludicrous, I’m not either but the skills are still more important…“

”… you realize if you start pulling this stunt with senior partners or, god forbid, judges that you’re going to be the richest unemployed attorney…“

”… I opened your mail and you got the clerkship.“

There was a long stretch of silence.

"What?”  Pepper blinked twice as Tony held up the neatly steamed-open envelope that he’d brought with him, one with her name on the front and SCOTUS in the return address field.

“You got it.  You’re going to be clerking next year.  In DC.”

“I got it?” She lit up and took the envelope from him, opening it carefully so as not to wrinkle or bend it.  "Oh my god, I got it.“

"I helped a little.”

“Shut up, Tony.  I got it.”  She beamed from ear to ear and gave him one, quick kiss.  "Now get out.  I have a meeting to run.“  She turned and put a hand on the doorknob.  "Get wine for tonight.  Not that I was planning on sleeping,” she said, “but we’re going to not-sleep together.  With alcohol.”

She disappeared back in the room and he rocked back on his heels.  "I helped a little,“ he muttered, but he was still smiling as he headed back to the apartment, whistling tunelessly as he went.

When JARVIS politely and with much regret woke Rhodey up at three in the morning, Rhodey assumed there was an emergency.  

“I would not deem this an emergency situation, sir.  But I am afraid Tony insists on your presence.”

He fumbled on a sweatshirt and socks and, with a few dire threats under his breath, he headed down to the lab.

It was surprisingly quiet down there; no sounds of welding, no heavy metal music, no constant grind of the robots back and forth. One of the work tables had been moved into the middle of the floor, and there was an odd and motley crew around it.  Tony, in just socks and boxers, looking a little irritated and sullen; Pepper in a dressing gown, slippers, and a very amused smile; Steve, in a t-shirt and sweats much like Rhodey’s own, leaning back in his chair more comfortable than he’d been in a long time…

And Natasha, still in her uniform, with a row of weapons on the table in front of her.  She was shuffling a deck of cards lazily, and as Rhodey came through the door he could hear her having a conversation with Steve in Russian.  

“Rhodey!  I need a rules call here,” Tony waved him over with a broad, obviously slightly drunken gesture.  "Strip poker.  Weapons don’t count, right?“

"Tony.  You have got to be kidding me.”

“C'mon,” Tony wheedled, giving Pepper his most charming grin.  "You know it’s fun.  And math doesn’t lie – the stock price goes down when we’re not together.“

"The stock price goes down when the board thinks you’re unsupervised,” Pepper corrected, without even looking up from her paperwork.  "And no, Tony, no, not even for pretend, not even for one event.  We both know why it doesn’t work, and I’d like to be able to flirt with anyone I want without the tabloids calling me ugly names.“  She glanced up, unaffected by his sulking expression. "Well, uglier.  Find someone else to fake-date.”

“You’re not my supervisor,” he said, trying hard not to let it come out with a petulant huff.  "And Rhodey let me take him on a fake-date in college and he’s already sworn never again.“

"There’s got to be someone else.”

“Happy said no, and you won’t let me take the suit.”

“It’s creepy, Tony.  I don’t even want to consider what the newspapers would say if you did that.  There has to be another person.”

“I don't like anyone else.”

There was a knock at the door, and Bruce stuck his head in.  "Sorry, Pepper, your assistant was gone and I’m looking for… hey, Tony.“  He came the rest of the way into the office and crossed the floor, offering out a tablet.  "The propulsion data came in.  You should see what the new fuel is doing.”

Tony let Bruce hand him the tablet, oblivious to the expression on Pepper’s face as she watched the two of them.  "What, did it under… wait, what the hell is that?“  He squinted as he manipulated the data on the tablet with nimble fingers.  "That spike.  Can we replicate that spike?”

“Only if we want to blow out the windows.”

“… we can replace the windows.”

Pepper cleared her throat.  "One, Tony, no.  Small samples in the secure lab or I’ll cut your repair budget.“  Bruce gave her a grateful smile.  "Two, I think you just solved another problem.”

Tony glanced up with a puzzled expression.

“You let him hand you the tablet, Tony.”

Tony’s expression went from puzzled to delighted in an instant.

“Bruce.”  He put an arm around him and steered them both towards the door.  "First you’re going to show me the formula for that additive.  Then we’re going to get you fitted for a tux.“

Bruce shot Pepper a lost, please-help-me look over his shoulder as Tony pulled him out of the room.  She just waved cheerfully and went back to her paperwork.

That’ll give the board something to chew on, at least.