Avengers: Feast of Thanks

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Suzanne and I are in a writing group on Facebook, and each month we are given a writing prompts for inspiration. This month, obviously, was Thanksgiving. So we decided to write an short story about the Avengers and Thanksgiving. So, please enjoy and have a happy Thanksgiving!

All characters are property of Marvel.

Crack!

“Thor! What have I told you about summoning lightning in the apartment!” yelled Steve running into the kitchen where his roommate stood triumphantly over a half-thawed turkey.

The god of thunder grinned. “I apologize for the inconvenience, man of patriotism,” he replied calmly, “but how else am I to roast this magnificent fowl upon which we will feast?”

Steve pointed to the oven. “Put it in there. I already preheated it.” He was quite proud of himself for figuring out the dials and buttons on the oven by himself. Only a few weeks ago he would have had to frantically phone Natasha or Phil for help. That is, if he figured out the phone correctly. He was still working on that skill in this new age.

Thor placed the turkey on the platter in the oven one-handed.
“And this will roast the bird?” he asked, peering through the little window in the oven door.

“Yes. Now help me by making the mashed potatoes.” He plopped a set of instructions for making mashed potatoes, printed out by Natasha a few days ago, on the table next to the basket holding twenty or so raw Russet potatoes. Seeing Thor curiously thumbing through the directions and satisfied that he knew what to do, Steve concentrated on what he had left to do. The others were bringing the desserts and casseroles, the turkey was cooking in the oven, the gravy would have to wait until the turkey was done, and Thor was handling the mashed potatoes, so that left the stuffing.

Thwack! Thwack! Steve whirled around at the sound of something heavy splintering wood. There stood Thor, his hammer poised over his to strike a potato, the previous two having already having been squashed flat by Mjolnir.

“Thor! What are you doing?!” cried Steve, his hands raised in alarm.

Thor stopped the hammer mid-stroke and looked up. “Behold, I have mashed the potatoes, as you requested,” he said.

“That’s not how you do it! Did you even look at the directions?”

He frowned. “I read them, yes, but this way seemed more efficient. Besides, I believe this harvest is defective.” He snatched a smaller potato from the edge of the table and held it up. Steve saw that a huge bite had been taken out of it. “The tuber left a most unpleasant savor in my mouth,” he said, a look of disgust crossing his handsome face.

Steve buried his face in his hand. “Only you, Thor. Only you would take a bite out of a raw potato.”

Suddenly the door burst open. “Hiya, Capsicle, Lightning Thief,” said Tony, letting himself in without asking (much to Steve’s annoyance) and plopping down on the couch. The reactor on his chest caused an eerie glow in the dimly-lit living room.

“Lightning thief?” asked Thor. “I do not understand…”

“Hey, where’s your remote?” asked Tony, digging under a couch cushion. “Never mind, found it. Hey, Meatswing, wanna watch some football?”

“Go ahead, Thor. I’ll finish the potatoes.” Thor grinned and series on the opposite side of the couch from Tony. It was probably best that he stayed in there out of Steve’s way anyway, considering the near-disasters he had almost caused in the last 10 minutes.

“Hey guys, can I come in?” asked Bruce, standing at the door and laden with several dishes. Steve rushed over to help him. “Pepper made these,” Bruce explained, setting them on the crowded counter. “I think there are yams in there.”

“Is she going to be coming over?” Steve asked, putting the dishes in the refrigerator.

“She knew I was coming, she didn’t think that Tony was.”

They both looked over at Tony sitting on the couch, yelling something at the referees on the television. “So then why is he here?”

Bruce smiled. “He and Pepper had a bet. He lost. He is supposed to go to her parents house for Thanksgiving today, but they do not, uh, get along, if you know what I mean.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“I heard that!” said Tony from the living room. He then proceeded to turn up the volume on the TV to cover up Thor’s exclamation of how glorious this Midgardian pastime of football was.

Bruce walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, snatched the remote away from Tony, and changed the channel to a rerun of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

“Hey!” Tony protested and tried to win back the remote.

“You had the volume up too loud. Besides, you can watch it on your iPad or whatever other techie device you’re carrying.”

The two self-proclaimed science geeks stared each other down like two fifth-grade boys on the playground. “I had it first,” said Tony.

“Don’t even start. If you do, the other guy will show up and eat the remote!” Bruce slouched in the armchair, turning away from Tony.

“Not in my apartment!” cried Steve.

Thor laughed heartily at them. “Humans are so petty…”

Tony, disinterested in the parade, turned to Thor. “Hey, is the other L’Oreal brother coming?”

“I do not understand…”

“Loki,” Bruce said, looking up from the television, “Is Loki coming?”

“Alas, he cannot attend. The All-Father has restricted him to Asgard for the time being.”

“Makes sense,” a female voice said. Thor, Tony, and Bruce looked over to the loveseat to see Natasha and Clint snuggled under a blanket.

“How long have you two been there?” asked Steve.

“A while,” replied Clint.

“How’d you get in without us knowing?”

Natasha looked up at him. “Steve, we’re some of the top spies in the world. Figure it out. By the way, the casserole is on the counter.” She went back to watching the parade.

A slight knock on the still-open door announced some new visitors. Nick Fury and Phil Coulson walked in, both of them carrying several pies each. Fury looked around at everyone, “Nice to see you all assembled here,” he said, walking though the living room to the kitchen.

Thor got up from the couch and went over to Phil, hugging him tightly. “I’m glad to see you are well, son of Coul.”

Phil winced, “Still recovering, Thor. But it’s good to see you, all of you.” They all smiled back at him. “Is Steve in the kitchen?” Tony nodded, then went back trying to knock the remote out of Bruce’s hand. Phil walked into the kitchen, looking around at the mess. “Do you need my help, Steve?” Steve looked around at the disaster zone that was previously known as a kitchen. “I could help clean up?”

Steve grinned at Phil. “Thanks.”

Fury wedged himself between Tony and Thor on the couch. “Is there a reason we aren’t watching the game?”

Tony nodded toward Bruce. “The other guy would eat the remote if we did.” Everyone looked over at Bruce, who glanced around at all of them.

“Listen, it was a family tradition to watch the Parade every Thanksgiving. That’s what Thanksgiving is all about, right? Tradition?”

Thor shrugged, Natasha and Clint nodded, and Tony said, “The Stark home didn’t exactly celebrate Thanksgiving.”

“I think Coulson brought Miracle on 34th Street.” Fury said.

“Never seen it.” grunted Tony, readjusting his position on the crowded couch. “Steve!” he yelled.

Steve poked his head around the wall. “Yeah?”

“Smells good! Is it almost ready?”

“Yeah.” He went back into the kitchen to check on the turkey. “Hey, Phil. Do you think this is ready?” Steve asked, pulling the bird out of the oven.

“Looks good.” Phil said, “You’re doing good, Steve.”

“I just…” Steve hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. He placed the bird on the now clean counter. “This is my first Thanksgiving without my family, you know? It was always perfect. And…since I consider you all my family now, I want it to be perfect.”

Phil patted him on the shoulder. “I brought something that will remind you of your life before us.” Phil went over to the bag that the pies were in, pulling out Miracle on 34th Street, handing it to Steve.

“What’s this?”

“This movie was made a couple years after the war, and it was a Thanksgiving tradition in my family growing up. I figured you would like it.”

Steve read the back of the DVD. “Maureen O’Hara? She’s a good actress.” He grinned at Phil. “Thanks, this means a lot.”

“We should get the food set out.”

Steve looked at the table and frowned. “I don’t think it’s big enough for all of us.”

“That’s fine,” Tony said, the other Avengers filing into the kitchen behind him. “We’ll eat in there.” He pointed back to the living room.

“We can watch this!” Steve exclaimed, holding up the DVD.
Tony shook his head and Bruce snatched it out of Steve’s hand. “I’ll get it set up.”

“Thanks, Bruce.”

“No problem!” He said as he went back into the living room.

Thor grabbed a plate and began to dish up, the others followed suit. Soon everyone was situating themselves on the couches and armchairs. Bruce started the movie, and everyone began eating, except for Steve. He looked around at everyone. They really were his family now–dysfunctional, sure, but family nonetheless. He took a bite of his turkey and started paying attention to the movie.

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