Guns, Xanex and Champagne

"You can't wear a gun under that dress!" The horrified squawk rebounds off the elegantly draped walls of The Waldorf Astoria.

"I've hidden significantly larger-caliber weapons under considerably less material." Natasha Romanov smoothes the midnight blue silk over her impressive curves. "See, no lines."

"But... but... that's not the point. Bridesmaids don't carry guns!"

She stares flatly at the overwrought woman wrapped in a bundle of pink of taffeta and lace. "If you can take it from me, you can have it."

The flustered woman makes a strangled sound and turns to the other bridesmaid. "Can you talk some sense into her?"

"Awesome! Can you do that for my taser too?"

The hotel's wedding planner opens her oversized handbag, rummaging for her emergency stash of Xanex.

"Sorry, Darcy, it's a custom piece."

The small brunette shrugs. "Oh well, that's why god created handbags." She drops the device into a satin clutch.

The spy makes a mental update to her Christmas list: one custom taser holster.

The wedding planner realizes she's out of Xanex. She took the last one after walking in on the groom's party organizing a kidnapping raid an hour ago. Suddenly the 'how to neutralize hot assassin' checklist that crazy billionaire was writing on the wall (IN ICING!) makes more sense. Thankfully, she managed to convince the men to leave the groom's traditions for the next wedding with HIS people. Given the insanity of the groomsmen... Perhaps she shouldn't begrudge the redhead her weapon.

Natasha glances at mirror again. She wishes she were wearing a suit with the rest of the guys; it's much easier to hide weaponry under a jacket.

But how could she refuse Thor's deep, pleading voice. "Lady Natasha, please. My Jane doesn't have many acquaintances of the female persuasion, I have five warriors standing for me, and she has… Darcy."

The assassin spins to ensure her arsenal is hidden from every angle. The long flowing strapless silk gown manages to hide a good deal of weaponry (with some minor modifications.) Thank goodness the wedding coordinator didn't catch a glimpse of the slim blades she had built into the bodice, or the backup gun, or the throwing knives, or the garrote woven into her hair… The high leg baring slit up the right side will ensure a quick draw for most of the arsenal. Her shoes, Christian Louboutin's are a work of art, the hollowed out right heel contains a paralytic serum, left heel an undetectable poison, decorative ankle straps have been modified to become handcuffs on a moment's notice.

Not that she plans for trouble, but it's a reasonable expectation that when you have the Avengers, dozens of SHIELD's top agents, a handful of the world's top scientists, and demigods… Add champagne and dancing; significant weaponry seems prudent. And that's assuming the wedding isn't crashed by one of the hundreds of archnemesis the wedding party and guests have between them.

Natasha wonders if leaving the tear gas at home was a bad idea.

Darcy wonders if the taser will work through the silk of her clutch. She has to zap Thor at least one more time before the honeymoon… for old times sake.

The wedding planner wonders if she has more Xanex in her car.

Finis

Authors Note: Yes, I am a review whore, they make me happy and keep my fingers tapping This will probably become a series, as I'm already coming up with terrible things to do to all of our favorite superheroes. This is far to fluffy, gotta keep up my angst cred.

Thanks to DJ Liopleurodon for a fabu beta as always (a good person to know when you need plural for arch nemesis, or a good understanding of anti anxiety vs depression drugs)