AN: This chapter hasn't exactly been proofread, so... ooops?

And my writing style has changed quite a bit, so this really might not be what's expected. I've even had to go to previous chapters and edit them a bit. I mean, I've written quite a bit since I last wrote anything for this story - though since it's just been the first draft of a longfic that I've been working on, my style hasn't exactly improved very much, just - changed.

Steven Strange was not having a good day. He was, in fact, not having a good week. The appearance of a new villain – some magical nutter who called himself 'Lord Aurum', backed up by a couple dozen magically powered-up goons and some magical constructs, was hell-bent on summoning warriors powerful enough to raze armies – was not helping things.

At least he had the Avengers for backup this time – well, not the Hulk or Thor, but the other four were present at least.

He was startled out of his contemplation by the red and gold blur that whizzed past him.

"Gandalf! Get your head back in the game, the Palpatine Clone has almost finished his bloody ritual!" Stark's voice sounded strained through the earbud. "You've killed the last of those magical animal things, but the minions of darkness have been less inclined to be pieces of cake! And we can't break through the barrier at all!"

Strange rolled his eyes. "There's no use in me even trying anything, the barrier won't break in time. We should just prepare to deal with whatever comes out of it."

One of the minions leapt at him, swinging a glowing sword. It was swiftly parried by a glowing shield, and then the Widow, appearing seemingly from mid-air, tazed him with the electric bracelets on her arms. Strange nodded, and Romanoff sped off to the next group of the minions.

"Still, can't you do something with your mojo?"

"What makes you think I haven't already tried? He prepared well for us."

Stark cursed.

"Language!" came through seconds later, Rogers clearly paying attention to what was being said. That must have been his seventeenth reprimand of the day, if Strange was counting right.

Stark was probably about to draw breath and reply, but before he could, the shimmering purple barrier around the magician and his ritual circle started to glow brightly. Along with the circle.

The magician inside started laughing. "There's nothing you can do to stop me now! My warriors will destroy you and then-"

He was interrupted by the barrier and the circle exploding outwards in bright light.

Strange hadn't had time to look away, and ended rubbing his eyes furiously, backing up from the fighting, and hoping no one would take the opportunity to strike.

However, everyone seemed to have gone completely silent – there was no more sounds of scuffles, or shouting, or explosions.

Vision finally returning, Strange looked at where the ritual circle had been. And stared.

A group of people, three men and five women in various stages of undress, were sitting in a circle, mid-way through- a dealing of cards? Were they-

"Well, this is a new and unpleasant way of interrupting a strip poker game," groaned a blonde woman. She was wearing a tank top and shorts that were completely nondescript, apart from the fact that they were mostly covered by weapon holsters. Apart from guns, things that must have been guns despite their bizarre shapes, and a variety of darts, she also seemed to have enough grenades on her person to give the Hulk pause.

"Who are-" Strange tried to ask, but was interrupted by a dark-haired man, who, unlike the blonde woman, was mostly undressed.

"Yeah, it's not like you're winning or anything, and need time to recover your pride."

A different voice chimed in. "It's the principle of the thing, dearest. Being interrupted while winning-"

"Fuck you too, you cheating fox. How any part of you ever could be called a Princess, with your non-existent code of honour-"

Someone tried to clear their throat to interrupt the man's tirade, but he paid no heed, and even from this distance, Strange could see that half of the group was rolling their eyes, and if his lip-reading was correct – and he wasn't entirely sure it was, then the ginger woman had whispered to the third speaker "Just shut him up already, can't you? You know the prat's just doing this in the hope that you'll just snog him into silence."

Strange's ear piece buzzed. "No way, that's– that dark-haired guy, that's Mister Granger. And company." Stark's voice sounded almost awed. "Wow. That ginger girl looks hella cu-"

"Stay on task, Stark."

"Have you met these people before, Rogers, Stark?"

"Yeah, we met Granger a couple times. Always when someone tried to summon something ghastly. He always steals the shiniest stuff wean he leaves, so fair warning to you – don't want anyone stealing your magic baubles, do you?" Stark definitely sounded awed.

"The guy one knocked out Loki by twitching an eyebrow – SHIELD estimates his threat level to be at highest recorded, considering that he can disengage from a fight at will and is completely unrestrainable" Rogers cut in.

Well, that explained why, perhaps, the spell has summoned him. Strange frowned. That did not explain why his companions were summoned; other than the blonde woman, none of the rest of the strangers were armed, and many were missing quite- a few articles of clothing.

In the intervening time, the villain who had summoned the group seemed to have finally come out of this stupor.

"Warriors! I order you to destroy the Avengers and the Supreme Sorcerer!"

Strange wondered if the guy was in denial of the fact that only one of his warriors looked remotely combat-ready, or if he was banking on something else. Or if he just hadn't even noticed that the summoned people were not remotely warrior-like.

The strangers exchanged looks.

"Shotgun not dealing with the nutter!" said the supposed Mr Granger.

"Me neither!"

"Nor me!" The ginger, and the pale-haired woman with tattoo-covered arms that was sitting next to her, spoke almost in unison.

"Blaise and me ain't doing it either! We're not the combat specialists here! Also, we're outta here right about now, 'cause it's goddamn freezing, and may I remind me you that I lost my shirt in the last round!" With that said, the man who was speaking grabbed his friend, and just- vanished with a loud crack. Strange stared. He hadn't seen that method of transportation before.

"Aw, c'mon Ginny, Luna. That guy looks fun. It'd take you what, two seconds to take him down?" The blonde made a face. "And you wouldn't make as much a mess as I would."

The ginger – Ginny? - made a face. "Yeah, we're not letting you do it either, Lavender. Your, ah, fondness for using grenades and explosive puts even Finnegan to shame."

The magician who summoned them stared. His goons, clearly unable to figure out what they should be doing, also stared – though the shields they'd raised made it impossible for him or the Avengers to take them out.

There was beat of silence, before Black Widow's voice crackled in Strange's ear.

"Clint, you're a good man, but I'm leaving you. That Lavender, she's too hot."

"Hot damn, Natasha. At least you're not leaving me for a guy. Will you at least send me holiday cards?" Hawkeye didn't sound even slightly upset.

"You two aren't even dating!"

Strange frowned. "Ah, shouldn't we- get back to fighting?"

"Warriors! You must obey me!" Lord Aurum screamed at them. His goons exchanged looks, and started to back away from any Avengers they happened to be close to, and bunch around their leader.

"Hmmm… Give me a moment to consider that… Nah. Not doing that." Ginny stuck out her tongue at him, in a display of maturity fit for Stark.

Aurum purpled. The colour really did not go well with the garish orange clothing he was wearing. "I summoned you, you must-"

Then he collapsed like someone had hit him over the head.

Strange blinked. And realised that someone had hit the guy – the other blonde woman was standing right behind where the villain of the week had stood, holding a sword in a way that implied that its hilt had just been introduced to someone's skull, and had come off as the winner. But he hadn't even seen her move. And the sword looked completely solid, not like a magical construct – where the hell had she gotten it from?

The mooks stared. Then they realised that having their leader knocked out wasn't the best thing to happen to them, and should be taken as hostile action. However, before even one of them raised their sword, they also got knocked out. The blonde was now standing close enough to Strange that he could now see… that despite the loose and confusing folds of the coat and scarf, the stranger was not, in fact, a woman.

"You all take so long to argue." The blond twisted his sword and it shimmered into a fan. He plopped down on the asphalt, looking somewhat winded. "I would rather we get home sooner rather than later, and though the mood for the game may well be ruined, I'd advise everyone to remember that there's still a fantastic amount of alcohol that we need to get through, or did everyone forget that challenge we have going on with the Bravo team? I, for one, don't want to lose the wager."

The rest of the party grimaced. "Too right we don't want to lose the wager to those idiots. Just 'cause they're Aurors, they think they're so much better than literally everyone in our Department," muttered Ginny. "Right then, let's get back to getting wasted." She paused. "Oh, I think I'm also going to call Hermione, see if she wants to join us… She mentioned earlier that she's looking for an opportunity to get wasted, ever since her fiancé ran off with that scientist bloke, Carlos whatsits, to get married."

"Didn't she run off with them, Ginny? I distinctly remember a three-way wedding, though too much alcohol may be at fault for that." That was- Luna, Strange guessed.

He whispered, hoping he was loud enough for the earpiece to pick up, but not loud enough to get overheard. "Should we stop them from leaving?"

No one answered for a second.

"Well, it'd probably make Fury's year, but I don't think it would be a very good idea to try."

"Good idea, Spangles."

One of the group laughed loudly.

"No, she wants to get drunk because Malfoy once said she'd marry more than one person, and she said she'd never, ever do it. Coming?" Ginny shrugged, got up, twisted around on the spot, and vanished with a loud crack, followed immediately by Luna.

"Hey! Can I have your number, Miss Lavender?" the Black Widow picked her way through the unconscious-mook-covered street.

Lavender gave her an appraising look, grinned, and pulled out a business card from- somewhere. "You can ignore the business hours, honey – for you, I'll answer anytime."

She winked, bowed, and disappeared with a crack.

Granger sighed. "I guess I should get going too, then." He was about to turn on his heel, but was interrupted before he could leave.

"Planning to leave me behind, are you? I'd like to remind that someone here can't Apparate."

"I'm sure you could find your way back home easily enough." Granger grinned. "You could cheat the universe out of money and it wouldn't notice, I'm sure a little thing like dimension barriers won't stop you."

"Ah, but would I be fast enough to get back in time to help you win the wager? I do have the highest alcohol tolerance, surely you can't do it without me." The blond was smiling, but to Strange's eyes, the smile looked a tiny bit strained.

"I'm not sure 'can't get drunk at all' qualifies as tolerance – but it sure as hell useful when it comes to bets like this." Granger teleported with a loud crack to the blond's side.

Then he looked up at Strange, and the Avengers that had gathered next to him. "Oh hey, it's you lot! Plus one weird caped person I don't know. Nice seeing you again. Adieu!"

Then both he, and his friend, vanished.

Strange suddenly remembered Stark's warning, and checked that he still had the Eye on him.

It, thankfully, was still in place.

"Well, I suppose we should truss up Lordy Goldy and his mooks, and figure out how to explain to SHIELD that a bunch of strip-poker playing drunk strangers dealt with our problem, and how we couldn't even question any of them."

Trust Stark to ruin the moment.