This is total crack. I... I'm not quite sure what exactly this is, actually. Enjoy anyways?

Tony just wanted a drink.

Really. That was all he was asking for. A cup of orange juice. Maybe some ice.

What he didn't want was Thor running around his kitchen half-naked while Steve tried desperately to put out the fire that had started on the pancakes using Tony's hand towel.

Natasha leaned by the kitchen counter, sipping a cup of coffee and quietly observing the scene.

On second thought, he needed a bottle of scotch. Yeah, that sounded nice.

"Tony!" Steve stopped smacking the pan with his towel long enough to turn around. "There's a fire!"

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Thor pushed past Steve, pointing a finger accusingly at Tony. "YOU ARE OUT OF POPTARTS, MAN OF IRON," he thundered. He ripped off one of the cabinet doors and proceeded to throw out everything inside. "FRIEND STEVE AND I REQUIRE THEM FOR THE CAKES WE ARE MAKING IN THE PAN."

"We don't need Poptarts to make pancakes, Thor," Steve said, his patience wearing thin, grabbing Tony's coffee mug and proceeding to fill it with water and then dump it on the burning pancakes in an attempt to smother the flames.

Tony winced. "That was my favorite coffee mug," he said weakly.

"Sorry," Steve squeaked.

A sudden loud thump made them all jump, followed by a "Shit!" and the hollow sound of someone rolling around in the ceiling.

Yeah. It had reached a point where Tony didn't find the phrase "someone rolling around in the ceiling" weird anymore.

Clint came tumbling out of an air vent.

They all stared at him, Steve long enough for one of the flames to singe an eyebrow off ("Ow, damn it!"). Clint stared back. "Well," he drawled, "is anyone going to ask me if I'm okay?"

It was way too early for this shit. It was a Monday, for god's sake, Tony was tired. Things like this didn't normally start happening until at least two in the afternoon. Noon at the earliest.

Natasha regarded him with an eyebrow raised. "Aren't you going to do something about this, Stark?"

Tony watched idly as Clint perched on the kitchen counter, drew his bow, and began firing water balloons that he had apparently procured out of thin air rapidly at Steve ("Clint, what the hell?" "I'm helping you put out the fire, Steve, be grateful!").

This was going to cost so much in property damages. He had just had the kitchen redone. What was he going to tell Pepper?

"JARVIS," Tony said, making a conscious effort to keep his voice calm. "Please put out the fire."

"Of course, sir."

With a loud screech, the sprinklers turned on, blasting everyone in the kitchen with water and effectively putting out the flames. Steve stared at the ceiling, water dripping out of his scorched hair, looking slightly shocked.

"Don't," Tony said, making his way smoothly past the soaking wet soldier, god, and archer, "try to make pancakes in my kitchen again. Ever." He opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of scotch. "I am holding all of you liable for the damages next time. And Thor," he jabbed at the god's bare chest. "Put on a shirt."

"But the Poptarts-" Thor began.

Tony shot him a glare and Thor deflated.

"Sorry," Steve said, blushing bright red (either from embarrassment or the heat of the fire, Tony couldn't tell). "It won't happen again."

Tony sat down at the table and uncorked the bottle. "Good." He took a swig. "Jesus, that's nice."

They were all silent for a moment before the creak of the kitchen door caught their attention.

"Ah." Bruce stood awkwardly at the doorway in his pajamas, a cup of tea in hand. "Did I miss something?"

Clint coughed.

"We're good, doctor." Tony clapped his friend on the back and offered some of his drink, which Bruce politely declined. "Just, next time when you go out shopping, skip over the pancake batter, okay?"

Bruce looked confused. "Sure."

"Do not forget the Poptarts," Thor added.

"Yes. The Poptarts are very important."

"Okay."

Silence.

Steve scratched the back of his head. "I'm going to go take a shower," he said quietly.

Tony nodded. "You go do that, Spangles."

Steve shuffled out of the kitchen.

"I, uh," Clint spoke up after a while. "I'm going to go shower too."

"Me too," Thor agreed.

"Okay kids, have fun."

Bruce stared at their retreating backs. "I really don't want to know what, happened, do I?"

Tony snorted and he swore he saw Natasha crack a smile. "No, Bruce. You really don't."