The Empire Strikes Back

PenPatronus

Chapter 1

Wakanda

"How is it possible to have a CIVIL war?"

-George Carlin

Fate found the five exiled Avengers after a dinner of barbecued goat, coconut milk, mangoes, and cooked bananas. Following dessert, they hauled pillows, an orange rug, and a pitcher of rum onto the roof of the royal palace. Together they sat around a dim lantern like it was a campfire, watched the stars come out, drank, and played their new favorite game: 'If I was King of Wakanda.'

"If I was King of Wakanda," Scott Lang said, "I would have slides—like, those tube slides at playgrounds, right? I would have slides, like, everywhere. Just roll out of bed and—zoom! I'd slide to the bathroom. Zoom! I'd slide to the kitchen. Zoom! Back to bed."

"If I was King of Wakanda," said Sam Wilson, "I'd have a game floor. Not a game room, a game floor! Pool tables, ping-pong tables, arcade games, a bowling alley, mini-golf, one of those giant chess games with real horses."

Steve Rogers cracked a smile for the first time in two weeks. "Real horses? You're going to have horses running around inside your palace?"

"Don't make fun of my giant chess horses or you won't be invited!" Wilson warned. Steve cradled his stomach as he chuckled.

"I would have a spa day, every day," Wanda said after she took a long sip of rum. "An army of handsome men massaging my feet, styling my hair, doing my nails."

"If I had horses in my palace, would they go down the slides?" Scott wondered.

"If I was King of Wakanda," Clint Barton declared, "I would be so…fat. I'd just sit around and eat. I'd put a La-Z-Boy chair on the throne, get a giant TV, watch reruns of buddy cop shows, and just eat pineapple and Milky Ways all day."

"Mm," Sam hummed against his glass, "and play Guitar Hero. Guitar Hero on your La-Z-throne."

"What is Guitar Hero? I have not heard of this?" Wanda wondered.

"It's a game. You play guitar," Scott explained. "Like a hero."

"Like a superhero," Clint said, raising his glass to his teammates. "Wanda, last time you emailed me you said you were learning guitar, didn't you? Who's teaching you?"

"Um, Rhodey got it for me. We only had one lesson…" Wanda sucked in her cheeks and clenched her teeth around them. The mood soured at the mention of the absent Avenger. Every pair of eyes around the circle avoided the others.

Sam cleared his throat and tried to salvage the moment. "If I was King of Wakanda, I'd have air conditioning!"

Steve scowled at him. "T'Challa was kind enough to give us refuge, and you're complaining about the air conditioning?"

"I'm not complaining," Sam corrected. "It's just weird that the dude has a palace, but there's zero AC."

"They're used to the humidity," Steve said. "Or they're just so evolved that they know better than to spend money on things they don't need!"

Wilson pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "There's a statue of a black panther down there that's the size of a city bus! He's got to be as rich as Tony Stark."

The mood shifted again. Steve, who usually took his time with alcohol, gulped half of his glass down. Scott opened his mouth to attempt to lighten the mood when a scratching sound came from behind Wanda. She turned to see a gloved hand clamp over the lip of the roof. "Clint!"

Barton unsheathed a handgun and aimed it at the stranger. "Who's there?" he called. "Is that you, Spider-Boy?"

A second gloved hand joined the first. "I hiked through the forest all day, snuck past the guards, climbed up ten stories, and you're not even going to give me a hand?" a familiar voice asked.

Clint shared a shocked look with Steve. "Oh, my god." Both men pocketed their weapons and sprinted to the edge. Together they hauled the intruder onto the roof—an intruder who carried a backpack the size of a coffee table. "Nat!" Barton greeted. He yanked her up in a hug so high and tight that her boots came off the floor. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just in the neighborhood," Natasha joked with a roll of her eyes. "Really, of all the places to hide out, this ain't bad."

Scott gave her a half-hearted wave. "There's no air conditioning," he said, almost apologetically.

Natasha nodded 'hello' to Sam and Wanda. "Are you guys ok?" she asked, circling a manicured nail around a faded bruise on Clint's collarbone. She looked at Rogers. "Where's Bucky?"

"Suspended animation," Steve explained. He offered to take the backpack from her and she shrugged it off. "Are you alone?"

"Lately? Almost always," Natasha admitted. She nodded at the rug. "Room for one more?"

"There's always room for you," Clint assured her. When they sat down together, Wanda inched away. "Take it easy. She helped Steve and Bucky escape the airport, remember?"

"After she helped Stark attack us," Wanda reminded him.

"Water under the bridge," Nat declared. "Besides, I was pulling my punches."

Barton grinned at her. "So was I."

She smiled back. "I know."

Sam leaned towards Rogers. "Are you sure about her?"

Steve looked around at the miles of foliage, exotic animals, and waterfalls in every direction. "I'm sure she has a good reason for making the hike."

Nat slid her gloves off and used them to fan her face. "What are we drinking? Rum?"

Scott arranged his hands into a 'T' for 'timeout.' "Uh, I realize that I'm the new guy here so maybe this is a dumb question but seriously, Spider-Chick, whose side are you on…now?"

"It's Black Widow," Natasha corrected firmly. "And there aren't sides anymore. The war's over. Neither side won, I'd say. Rhodey definitely lost."

Wilson hung his head. "How is he?"

"Doing physical therapy at the Compound. Tony rigged up some tech to help him walk."

"Is that where you've been?" Steve asked. "With Stark?"

"No, like you I've been on the run from Ross and the United Nations. Only I ended up in Quebec instead of paradise."

"No air conditioning," Scott repeated.

"But you've been in contact with them." Wanda sat up on her knees and braced her elbows against her thighs. "Is Vis all right?"

Nat looked at her. "Yes. Tony says he's bored without you."

Wanda blushed.

Steve pulled on his fingers, cracking them one at a time. "How's Tony?" he asked so quietly that only Natasha heard him.

Natasha unzipped a small pocket on her bag, took out a Stark-phone, and held it up like a trump card. "Tony's in trouble," she said. "I'm here to ask for your help."

To Be Continued