Wrote this instead of the sequel. I'm sorry. But in case you are wondering, I am indeed writing Childish Love, and will publish it as soon as I have written all of the chapters. So this little run was mostly fueled by someone who doesn't know how to reply to a text to save their life. Except in this case, Pepper is nicer than I am.

Also, I was reading my comic books and even though I ship Clintasha like it's going out of style, I don't mind that Clint/SpiderWoman ship. And I recently discovered Sharon/Cap. I love that. A lot.

So...Uh...too much from me. Merry Belated Christmas, take a nap and say hello to your family from me.

You didn't think to tell me that you were going to end up taking a nuke into space. Or save New York, and by extension the world? I didn't expect any company after my trip to Washington, either. My mother wasn't coming to the tower for another week, and I was already working on tidying up. Of course, I'm not allowed to bring friends over without prior notice to you, because if I don't you will surely walk into the living room again during our stupid little chick flick in your underwear, drunk as a skunk. But when I opened the door and heard someone yell for more food, a little alarm went off in my head.

To put it simply, I was not impressed by your hypocritical behavior. Your new friends were nice enough, I was just fed up with your sort of manners, the being either half dressed, drunk, or sleazy. Originally I had loved you. You hear me? Loved you. Eventually when I calm down, I might realize that I still love you. But this was the last straw.

I stormed off into my room upon seeing a giant blond man sprawled across my once clean couch. There was a guy sitting on top of the fridge, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. The red head at the table shot me the evil eye for no apparent reason, and in the bathroom there was a rather muscular man sleeping in the bathtub, his ripped and stained clothing on the floor. You followed me, quickly shutting the door, trying to give us some sort of privacy.

"I really am sorry. Why are you angry now?"

"You really don't understand at all, do you? How long have you known women, to know better than to ask why I'm angry?" I started pacing back and forth, taking the suit jacket off and throwing my briefcase on the bed. You looked at me, a little sheepishly, a little confused. Those wide brown eyes would be the death of me, as would your beautiful hair.

"PMS?" I stared deeply into his soul. Taking a deep breath, I slid out of my shoes and went into the bathroom. You followed me, keeping your distance. I took all the things in my hair out, letting the red mess cascade down on my shoulders.

"No! One would think you would understand this after our little fiasco with that dorky Hammer guy, but it seems that you took a blow to the head today while you were throwing a nuke into space and forgot. You could have died, and there would have been nothing I could have done. I had no prior warning that you would have friends over. Don't you remember that we decided that my mother would be coming to visit soon?" I continued ranting, and eventually ran out of things to get angry about, and breath to say it with.

Instead of saying anything, you came near me with a comforting air around you. Lovingly, like someone who really did care about me and my silly little emotions. Your hands on the small of my back, a smile spreading against your face as your forehead touched mine. Before I could stop myself, I had my arms around your neck. Your gaze was inviting, with a little sparkle in it. The sparkle that usually meant trouble. Oh, how I had longed for that sparkle all my life.

"You. Will. Pay. For. This. Later." I managed to spit out between kisses.

Kisses turned into minutes, and then into hours. The sun fell down the sky, and the windows were dark with bright white stars dancing merrily among the dark backdrop. We both were tangled in the sheets of the bed, my coat and briefcase on the floor in a pile. Your hands were cold against my back, but I bet having my head on your chest was more of a hassle.

"Explain to me your friends. Quite the circus." You chuckled in agreement.

"Well, Captain America seems like a good place to start. He's been in ice for ninety years, confused as to what he is doing in the modern world, and has issues with the modern era technology. You could even ask the microwave. Thor is loud and always hungry, guess it comes with part of being a god. Never ask him to put down his hammer, because I already have to fix half the tower, but I don't want to have to rebuild it from the ground. Bruce is easily the most intelligent of the party, who actually speaks English!" I smiled, knowing that according to you anyone who speaks english is fluent in sarcasm and dirty jokes, as well as scientific business that I never really understood.

"Natasha and Clint are easily the most spooky. From what I can understand, they are in a relationship, but probably not. You know Natasha, from the summer internship business that you made me do. Scary woman, she is. Clint is a little more easy going, a bit more cheerful to make up for his gloomy partner."

You kept talking, verbalizing all the evidence you had for and against the relationship between the two master assassins, trying to make me believe that they were totally married and expecting children. Instead, I fell asleep, no longer angry at you or what you did, feeling a little more in love with you than I previously did.

Surely, tomorrow you'd do something to mess up though. But I wouldn't mind near as much.