Yeah, this is probably veering into the realm of total crack!fic. Full on shenanigans are about to ensue.

Just Like Budapest:

Tony could feel all eyes on himself and Natasha as they entered his Malibu home. By all eyes, he meant the eyes of Steve Rogers, Clint Barton and Bruce Banner. Thor was thankfully off planet so at least that was one less person they had to explain themselves to. Surprisingly, the redheaded assassin beside him looked some mixture between amused and annoyed and he couldn't quite decipher how those two could possibly go together in one facial expression, but she managed it flawlessly.

"Haven't seen you two since all that vodka and scotch you were drinking last night, where have you guys been since two in the morning?" Steve questioned.

"And why the hell do you two smell so spicy?" Clint questioned with his eyes narrowed.

Bruce looked the most amused of the three and he asked the real hard hitting question, "And what's all over your faces?"

Before Tony could say a word, Natasha was already answering, "You know, it was just like Budapest all over again."

The archer gave an odd look, "We remember Budapest very differently. You're going to have to explain this one so I have some idea here..."

The question wasn't just on the tip of Tony's tongue, he could also see it reflecting in Steve and Bruce's eyes as well. Neither of the two ever actually explained what happened in Budapest. They had all long ago given up asking what actually transpired on that mission. They never got a real answer.

"Well, I'm not too sure how we got there, but we wound up about twenty miles off the property, out in the woods, and at the bottom of some cliff with a case of beer," Natasha began, "and I'm not even sure how we managed that feat. That path would have been difficult to navigate during the day, near impossible at night, downright lethal while drunk, and completely murderous while drunk at night. Suffice it to say, we figured we'd just stay there till the alcohol wore off, because we probably weren't getting back up there sober, and if we could make it back up, then it was probably safe to get back in the car parked at the top and drive back here."

"That doesn't explain anything..." Steve mumbled in confusion.

"I still don't see how this is like Budapest," Clint tacked on.

"And I still don't know what that is on your face..." Bruce piped up.

Tony folded his arms and started to explain the next part, "As my Russian companion here was saying, if you were sober enough to mountain-goat up that path of death then you were sure as shit sober enough to drive, or if you weren't when you started, then you would be by the time you got to the top. So, we were in no state to make the trek, we had plenty of beer, and a plethora of stuff to burn. I decided I would make a bonfire."

Bruce looked downright terrified, clearly the scientist remembered the last time Tony decided to make a bonfire, things had gotten explosive. "Oh boy..." he heard Bruce mumble out.

Tony cleared his throat at the interruption, "Anyways. I'm building a bonfire, it was cold..."

"It was not cold. It's freakin' Malibu, Stark," Natasha cut him off with a rather sardonic expression pointed towards him.

"It's a guy thing, Romanoff, alright? We like to burn shit. And, it was sort of cold," Tony stated defiantly, "so, I'm building my bonfire, trying to figure out how to understand Romanoff here without a written manual, and we all know what guys do when making a fire. It's an unwritten rule."

Clint grinned, "Everything must go into the fire."

"Damn straight, Barton!" Tony hummed in agreement. "Wood? Sure. Cardboard? Makes total sense. Romanoff's chair that I'm not even sure where it came from? Why not? She can stand." He watched as Natasha shook her head, Clint laughed, Bruce was chuckling and Steve just looked downright offended that he had taken away a lady's chair. "Then she goes and throws in my AC/DC CD!"

"The nerve!" Bruce mocked with a smirk.

"That's just sacrilegious, Nat. Not the man's music," Clint chided his partner with a laugh.

Steve just shrugged, "Served you right for burning her chair."

And Tony could see Natasha's eyes filled with genuine amusement at their comments and then he continued the story, "So she tossed my CD into the fire and I'm over sitting there, stunned, then I decide... you know what? Why not? Fuck those guys."

"Please, you did not take it that well," Natasha broke in with a roll of her eyes, "he threw my half-full beer into the fire."

"We all have to make sacrifices in the name of Science, Red. How else are we going to know what happens to things when they get lit on fire, I mean, if not by lighting it all on fire?" Tony questioned and it was Bruce who laughed first.

Natasha did snicker at his comment as she smirked, "Yeah, our whole night was all in the name of academia, let's run with that."

"So, there we are," Tony started again, "sitting around our raging bonfire, when something nearby explodes!" He made his best mock-noise of an explosion while throwing his hands up in the air, "It was a bomb."

"A bomb!?" Steve questioned quickly.

Natasha waved that off rather quickly, "A chili bomb, Steve. This asshole threw a can of chili into the fire. I don't even know where he got it from or when he did it."

Tony smirked, "Anyways, all the contents pressurized and the can exploded."

"It's actually sort of impressive now that I look back on it, we should use it on missions, it was just an ordinary can but the bastard blew up like a stick of dynamite," Natasha tacked on.

"Embers and bits of flaming detritus shot out in every direction," Tony informed them next.

All three men were staring with their mouths agape at their tale.

"Of course, we're so inebriated that we don't even realize it's a damn can of chili at first," Natasha explained with a sigh, "so as far as we knew, we had just found out that Stark's favored rock and roll has a violent explosive reaction when combined with my esteemed Butt King Outdoor Seating Solution."

Clint looked appalled, "You loved that chair. It's discontinued."

"Don't remind me..."

"So something hits me in the back of the head, I reach up and my hand comes away wet with bits of red pulpy stuff. I'm not shitting you, I thought I was dying, that my brain matter was on my hand," Tony told them next. "Red here has this wide-eyed look and she's got the same crap all over her...and then I realize that my brain matter probably doesn't smell like a delicious blend of beans and spices."

Natasha rolled her eyes, "Actually, I had to smack him and inform him that his brain matter didn't smell like beans and spices. So once we're done worrying about possible brain damage I realize we're really not that far away from some houses. Somebody might have called the cops."

Clint snorted out a laugh in an instant, "I could see the headlines now... Tony Stark starts fiery explosion with a can of chili."

"Probably wouldn't be his worst headline," Bruce mused.

Even Steve looked entertained by their tale, "This is ridiculous..."

"Massive explosion out in the woods? Everybody and their mother knows that usually means meth lab. So we're scrambling to put the fire out and scatter," Natasha explained, "of course, we're stuck at the bottom of a cliff, drunk, in the dark."

"And so began our longest journey. That shit was like Lord of the Rings, all fraught with peril and dramatic scenery, lots of slow pans and pleading stares, and I'm pretty sure there was even an elf at one point."

"It was a squirrel, Stark," Natasha reminded him.

"So you kept saying, but I was drunk, and I still say it was an elf," Tony stated.

Natasha rolled her eyes, "Anyways, we get to the top, mostly unscathed by the chili bomb explosion, and we run to the car. Naturally, I decide I'm driving, which drinking and driving goes against my normally unimpaired judgement, but again... fiery explosion and cops likely coming to investigate? We're getting out of there."

"Naturally," all three of their listeners echoed.

"So we hightail it out of there and I think that obviously Thor's Asgardian Gods are shining down on us. Clearly they wanted us to make it out of these shenanigans and safely home, entirely unmolested by the cops right behind us."

"Right behind you?" Steve questioned with wide eyes.

"Right behind us. Lights flashing. Sirens on," Natasha answered.

Tony snickered, "All I'm thinking is, this guy is gonna come to the window and say, 'Do you know why I pulled you over?' and the only answer flitting through my brain is... 'Because you want to molest me?', no lie."

Bruce face palmed, Steve groaned, and Clint snorted out another laugh.

"So, I pull over the car, take a breath, steady myself and wait for the officer to approach the window," Natasha told them.

"He's about half-way there, that ominous back lit shadow getting closer and larger in the rear view mirror and then Red here looks a little bewildered, so I ask why..."

"And I tell him, no matter how neutral an expression I have, I'm still covered in fucking chili."

All three men laughed in an instant.

"So I'm sitting at the wheel, deciding...well, screw it, just roll with it and pretend nothing is the matter," Natasha added next.

"Meanwhile, I'm trying to think of what to say to explain this shit when he gets to the window, leans over with the flashlight, shining it onto Red's meat covered face and he goes, 'How you doin', ma'am?'. Sure as I was drunk, she looks him right in the eye and just goes, 'Good.' without batting an eye, laughing, or even a smile."

More laughing came from all the men.

"All I'm thinking is...No, no! What the hell are you doing? Say something else! Say anything else! And this guy is staring at her, and she's staring right back at him," Tony explained, "I swear they had a twenty minute stare down."

Natasha's smirk was causing the other guys an endless amount of laughter and Bruce finally asked a question, "How long did you and the cop actually stare at each other?"

"Not twenty minutes but it was a ridiculously long and awkward two minutes at least," Natasha answered with a chuckle.

Tony rolled his eyes, "All these thoughts in my head. I'm just thinking... say anything else. Anything, woman! You're not good! You were eating chili out of a cup, swerved to miss a deer. You work for Hormel and this batch is NOT making it past quality control! Any fucking sentence! Subject! Predicate! Make your mouth work! But no, she's just staring! So my mind is reeling, I can actually hear myself yelling in my head... Words! Just say words! ANY words. Solipsistic! That's solid. Fauna, fauna is a good word! You know what? Just call him a dick. Tell him he looks like a penis in a Dudley Do-Right hat. Say you have a bomb. Threaten him with high explosives because right now, any words are better than no damn words. Grim, steely-eyed staring is not going to bluff you out of being pulled over in a chili suit!"

By that point Clint was so red in the face from laughing that Tony thought the man might actually cry. Bruce's shoulders were shaking from silent laughter. Hell, even Steve looked like he couldn't hold it in much longer because he was grinning like a fool.

"Then, finally, the staring stops. The cop goes, 'You sure everything's alright?'. And without batting an eye, this nutjob just sits there stone-faced and goes, 'Yep.' And my mind is screaming, 'DAMMIT!' Because now they're back to staring!"

Even Steve had started laughing now and Natasha had that little slanted smile on her face as she crossed her arms before she finally spoke again, "So this guy goes, 'Well, okay then.' And for obvious reasons, he looks completely skeptical. But then he finally says, 'I pulled you over because your license plate light is out. You might want to get that checked out.' And he just walked away."

"Walked away?" Steve questioned in disbelief.

"Walked away. Right. Back. To. His. Car," Tony emphasized.

Natasha snickered, "Now I'm thinking... well, shit, I must not have looked as bad as this chili bomber next to me. It was dark and he was only looking at my face, and I only felt it hit the back of my head, and maybe all that chili was only on the back of my head. So you know, from his point of view, I probably seemed totally passable. Until I looked in the mirror. The whole left side of my face, the side facing the cop, is covered in red sauce. There's even a bean in my ear. Just a bean...sitting there, in my ear."

"And this cop pulled us over at five in the morning, took one glance at Red here who looked like she'd just given vigorous head to a chili dog—"

"Stark!" Steve cried out, though Bruce and Clint were laughing and even Natasha was snickering.

"And this guy clearly decided he'd rather not do the paperwork," Natasha finished with a laugh.

"And so here we are..." Tony tacked on, just so they would know the story was officially over.

Clint had to take a few minutes to remember how to breathe before he grinned, "Alright, you know what...it is sort of like Budapest."

Steve just looked baffled and Bruce was the one to ask, "Now you really need to tell us...what happened in Budapest?"

"Long story short?" Clint questioned.

"Probably best," Natasha decided. "It was early on in our partnership and we were finishing up a mission in Ukraine and our nearest safe house is in Hungary. So...Budapest," she explained. "Clint's got two bullets in him and a massive concussion, I've got a bullet in my leg, a concussion, and a dislocated shoulder. We were both drugged. So he sets the coordinates and we crash in the jet. Next thing I remember, I'm waking up in a trailer. My hands, knees, feet they're all covered in blood. Not even sure how we wound up in a damn trailer. I look out the window and and there's a tan guy with a leaf blower walking around next to a cactus. I look next to me, there's Clint, just as bloody as me, and wearing a poncho."

"So Nat smacks me awake and goes, 'Are we in Mexico?'."

Tony snorted out a laugh in an instant.

"He gets up, doesn't even notice that we both look like extras from the prom scene in Carrie, and he looks out the window," Natasha said next, "Then he goes, 'Shit. I think we are in Mexico.' and the idiot goes right back to bed." She rolled her eyes as she shook her head, "Now I didn't know this at the time, we weren't really all that friendly, but this trailer was actually Clint's damn trailer that he kept out in the woods in the middle of nowhere. We weren't in Mexico. Not only did my concussed partner not recognize his own place, but he actually looked out the window and confirmed it to be a different country..."

Now all three of them were laughing.

"All I could think later was...well shit, I guess we know who won the 'worse concussion' game on that mission," Natasha told them with a smirk.

Steve looked absolutely confused, "So...all the times that you said something reminded you of Budapest..."

"And you were never actually in Budapest?" Bruce asked with genuine amusement.

"That about sums it up," Clint answered.

Tony shifted his eyes between them before he paused on Natasha. "I don't see how any of the times you've said it's like Budapest, this time included, that any of it actually relates to that story!" he told her in exasperation.

Natasha snickered.

Clint was the one who answered, "That's what she says every time she can't figure out how one or both of us wound up in whatever position we're in."

"Oooohhh..." Tony exclaimed in a sing-song at the exact same time with Bruce and Steve.

"Makes a lot more sense now," Bruce acknowledged.

Yep. I went there. One ridiculously long embellished drunken adventure with Tony and Natasha. LOL.

Oh right. I, in no way, shape or form, condone drinking and driving. Just tacking that on here.