Thanksgiving dinner is complete, and, miraculously, no fires have been started in the process.

It's been a bit of a group effort. Steve, who doesn't know the first thing about making a dinner of this caliber, will admit that he hasn't felt all that helpful, but he did manage to make the stuffing on his own, so he's feeling pretty good about that.

Clint took the lead in the ways of preparation, doling out assignments to those who want to help. Natasha was pretty independent with her dessert baking, as the plethora of pies can attest. She finished them at a very impressive rate. She really has it down to a science.

Most of the others didn't stay long. Steve did. He doesn't care that he contributed very little in the way of actual preparation. He couldn't just leave the two of them to do it all themselves – especially the day after they got back from a days-long mission. Even if all he did was help with the stuffing and gravy, he still did something.

But, finally, Thanksgiving dinner is finished.

Usually, there are no concerns about waiting for other people to arrive before starting a meal, but the three of them reluctantly agree that Thanksgiving dinner feels like maybe the one meal they can't do that with, so they ask JARVIS to send the team to the kitchen, and they set the table while they wait.

"They better not take too long," Natasha remarks. "I don't know how long I can hold off before I have to start eating."

"Oh, I know," Clint agrees. "You know, if we all ate it really fast, I bet we could finish one of the pies before anybody noticed."

Steve huffs a laugh. "They do smell really good," he admits. Natasha did a good job – but then, that's nothing new.

"You think they smell good?" Natasha says with a smirk. "Just wait 'til you taste them."

"No, Nat, that's the whole problem," Clint says with joking condescension."We don't want to wait to taste them. We want to eat them now."

When nobody's shown up by the time they finish setting the table, they decide to at least ready their plates. There's no sense in wasting time waiting around and then wasting more time by making everybody get their food at once.

They sit down at the table, and, unsurprisingly, Steve invites himself to the seat on one side of Natasha, and Clint sits down on her other side. This is how it usually goes. It's how it's supposed to go. Even with SHIELD before they took it down, if the three of them have the chance to grab a meal together, this is how they sat. It's a shame there's just that one obstacle that likes to get in the way these days.

As if reading his mind, Clint says, "Hey, Cap, you made a good move, helping us with the cooking. Now you get your guaranteed spot next to Nat."

Steve huffs, cracking a smile. "I mean, I won't complain about a good thing."

"Definitely beats me having to share Nat with... the alternative." He says the last part in a jokingly ominous voice, and Steve covers his mouth to stifle his quiet laughter.

"Alright, alright," Natasha says, rolling her eyes goodnaturedly. "I get it. You guys don't like Loki."

"It's not that I don't like Loki," Clint protests. "It's that I like Cap a lot more than I like Loki."

Natasha nods slowly, skeptically. "Uh-huh..."

"And, obviously," Clint continues, "there's the fact that I just don't like Loki."

Natasha gestures to him pointedly as if to say and that's my point.

Steve looks at Clint for a few moments, silent, thoughtful. He doesn't plan to say anything aloud until Clint notices his gaze, and with the weird look he gets, he can't just not explain why he's awkwardly staring at the guy.

"You're just really good with Loki," he says. "I didn't realize you also, you know..."

Clint cocks a brow. "What, that I also hate his guts?"

Steve shrugs awkwardly. That's one way to put it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Natasha scowl. That's partially his fault, he knows. Clint was the one to bring up Loki, but it was Steve who really started this conversation.

"'Course I hate him," Clint says. "You remember what he did – what he made me do. That shit still haunts me."

Steve frowns, nodding sympathetically. He makes a fair point.

"But I don't see a point in making waves," he says. "The guy's useful. I don't know how we'd do this if we didn't have him to lend a hand when shit gets tough. So, I mean, if being civil to him is gonna get the job done, that's what I'm gonna do."

"Yeah, I guess..." He's not sure he could be civil with the guy, but then, Loki doesn't seem all too interested in civility with him, anyway. Still, it's something to think about. It's something to keep in mind. The guy is useful in a fight, even if he's not good for anything else.

It's then that Tony and Pepper arrive, the former announcing his presence with a loud, carefree, "Hey, are we gossiping about Loki?"

"No," Natasha answers immediately.

"Well, can we gossip about Loki?" Tony asks. "I love talking shit about people behind their backs."

"Tony!" Pepper chides him quietly, hitting him gently on the shoulder.

"I will take that as a 'no,'" Tony declares. "Food smells amazing, by the way. You guys are professionals. Gordon Ramsay would be so proud."

Steve is pleased to say that he does, in fact, know who Gordon Ramsay is, and that reference is not lost on him.

Tony and Pepper fill up their plates, and they join the others at the kitchen table. Now they're just missing Bruce and the gods. They should be here soon enough.

Tony looks around at the others. "I notice nobody's eating," he says. "Is that because the food is poisoned, or are we waiting for the slowpokes?"

"We're waiting for the others," Steve answers.

Natasha pipes in with, "Which we're doing because the food is poisoned."

Clint swats her shoulder playfully. "You weren't supposed to tell him!" he whispers loudly.

That gets some chuckles out of the gang. From there, it's just some casual small talk while they wait for the others to get here.

The next to enter the room is Bruce, who does so with his phone to his ear. He gives the team a smile and a half-wave with his usual level of awkwardness, and Steve gives him a half-wave in return.

"I'm glad it went well," Bruce says into his phone. There's a pause, and he chuckles, visibly uncomfortable in a not-all-too-uncommon kind of way. "Yeah, I mean, maybe next year. We'll see what's going on."

Natasha nudges Clint's arm with her elbow and whispers something in his ear. Clint leans in and whispers something back. Steve just frowns. He'd like to be included in the conversation.

"I know, I know," Bruce says. "I told you, I gotta go. Official Avengers business, remember?"

Steve huffs a laugh. He's far from the only one at the table who does it. There is absolutely no official Avengers business happening here.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Bruce says, growing more antsy with every passing moment. The fact that they're all watching him doubtlessly doesn't help. "But I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

There's a pause.

"I love you, too," Bruce says.

Steve's brows shoot up. He looks at Nat in hopes that he can get the inside scoop, but she seems just as surprised as he feels. A glance around the table says everybody feels the same way. At least he's not the only one out of the loop.

"Alright, bye," Bruce says, and then his phone call is over, though their curiosity persists.

Tony huffs, a smirk on his lips. "Wow, Banner, I–"

Bruce cuts him off. "Not a girlfriend," he deadpans. "That was my cousin."

"Oh." Tony's smirk falls. "Well, that's just not as fun."

Bruce rolls his eyes and shakes his head to himself, but he doesn't truly seem that annoyed by it. He goes about building his own Thanksgiving dinner plate, but the interrogation is far from over.

"I didn't know you had any cousins," Pepper remarks. It's doubtlessly supposed to be friendly small talk while they wait for the others. He imagines awkward little Bruce doesn't see it the same way.

Bruce shrugs halfheartedly, his attention still on the food. "Yeah, I have a few."

"I don't think I've ever heard you talk about your family before," Tony remarks.

Steve shoots him a look. Pepper sounded curious. Tony's remark feels vaguely antagonistic. That's just not necessary.

Again, Bruce shrugs. "There's not much to talk about."

Tony still seems intrigued. Fortunately, the subject is changed before he can ask any follow-up questions.

"You know," Pepper says, "this food really does look so good. Thank you, guys. This is really nice."

"It's Clint you have to thank," Natasha says. "He did all the heavy-lifting. Cap and I were just here to stand around and look pretty."

Steve cracks a smile, the slight hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Hey, Nat did all the pies," Clint says. "She is the pie expert."

"Okay, okay, that's true," Natasha concedes. "I did help, but only because Steve was looking pretty enough for the both of us."

Steve chuckles, his face heating up to an embarrassing degree. Natasha looks up at him and bumps her shoulder against his with a playful smirk.

"So," Pepper says, "who are we waiting for now? Are Thor and Loki...?"

"They're coming," Natasha answers. "You know, eventually."

"Are they?" Pepper asks. "Gods don't celebrate Thanksgiving, right? It's an American thing."

Steve furrows his brows. Somehow, that feels like both a good point and a ridiculous remark at the same time, and he's not sure why.

Natasha shrugs. "I'm Russian and I'm here."

"Nobody actually cares about what Thanksgiving is," Tony says. "Contrary to popular belief, today isn't about the pilgrims or celebrating the coordinated mass genocide of innocent Native Americans on their own land."

Steve cocks his head to the side. "I don't think that's something people usually celebrate–"

"Today," Tony continues as if he never spoke, "is about stuffing your face with as much food as humanly possible – or, I guess, as much as godly possible. That's what they're coming for."

Steve glances at Natasha, who looks back at him. They both shrug. He's not wrong. She should know: she's the Russian here to eat her way through their American holiday.

"You know," Bruce says, "I thought I was going to be late. I'm pretty sure JARVIS said dinner was ready, like, ten minutes ago. Are we sure they're coming?"

The Avengers all glance at each other uncertainly. Are they sure they're coming? Thor had said he would. He'd planned his return from his girlfriend's Thanksgiving specifically to ensure he would make it to the team's dinner. He probably hasn't changed his mind, right?

It's Clint who makes the final call: "I say we just start eating."

"Yeah," Tony agrees. "They're aliens. They don't know it's rude."

"And, really, it's their own damn fault for being late," Clint adds.

Tony gestures to him emphatically. "Exactly. There's no point in making us suffer because they won't get their asses in here."

So, with that established, the six of them dig in.

Steve is pleasantly surprised to learn that Clint is actually a damn good chef, and even more surprised to find that the things that he himself helped with also don't suck. Sure, all he did was follow Clint's instructions, but he'll still take the pride he likely doesn't deserve.

He will admit, he's really looking forward to trying Natasha's pies. He suspects that will be his favorite part of this meal, partially because he just likes pie but mostly because Natasha made them and that makes them better by default.

The team chats a bit as they eat, casual conversations about a whole lot of nothing that Steve finds himself really enjoying. It's nice to just get to talk to his friends. They don't do too many big meals together like this – probably because of the prep work that goes into making enough food for this many people, especially when two gods are involved – but he really does enjoy it when they do.

It's a few minutes later that Thor finally arrives. He is, of course, welcomed not only with open arms but with sarcasm and mock annoyance from Natasha.

"What took ya so long?" she asks teasingly.

"Loki did," Thor answers. He gestures to the buffet on the counter. "May I...?"

"Have at it," Clint says. "Just don't eat it all."

Thor cracks a smile. "I'll do my best."

Thor goes about building his plate, and Steve turns his attention back to his own. He assumes that will be the end of it. He's wrong.

"What's up with Loki?" Natasha asks the god. "Is he coming?"

Steve finds himself frowning at the question. He takes another bite of turkey. That helps.

Thor shakes his head. "He's decided against it," he says. "He says he isn't hungry. I tried to convince him to at least sit with us, but he would rather stay in bed." He rolls his eyes lightheartedly.

Natasha frowns. She looks... concerned. She shouldn't be. The last time she saw Loki, she left near tears, literally shaking with fear. She shouldn't be concerned that he'd rather stay in bed than eat with them. She should be relieved. He knows he sure is.

He waits for the inevitable: for her to decide she has to go check on him, because she has to be the good person and she has to make sure he's okay. And then, of course, she'll come back with him by her side, both smiling like nothing's wrong because they shared a bad joke in the hall or Loki was flirting with her as they walked.

And, to her credit, she doesn't do it. She doesn't jump up with a "let me talk to him" and run off to his room. But he can tell that she's thinking about it. Yesterday wasn't enough to convince her to leave him alone. She may want to give up on him, but she hasn't. She won't. He can see it.

Steve rests a hand on her arm, and she looks over at him.

He shakes his head. "Don't," he says quietly.

Natasha hesitates. He knew she would.

He fights back a sigh. As much as he doesn't want to do it, to him, it's marginally better than letting her stress herself out over this – or, worse, letting her do it herself. So he asks, "Do you want me to go check on him for you?"

She shakes her head. "You don't have to..."

"I don't mind," Steve assures her (even though he very much does mind). "If you're worried about him..."

Still, she hesitates, but, with a sheepish shrug, she whispers in his ear, "Just, after yesterday, I don't..."

Steve nods sympathetically, patting her on the back once. "Don't worry," he says. "I got it."

She offers him a small smile.

Steve pushes himself to his feet, excuses himself from dinner, and then he's off to see Loki. He's really not looking forward to it, but if it keeps Nat away from him, it's worth it.