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Fly Me To The Moon (Of Cheese)

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“Okay, I get that we need to get the ‘Almighty Chalice of Wumbology’ or whatever, but what about-” Clint yelped when multiple pairs of arms tugged him back down, everyone - loudly - shushing him.

Right outside the conveniently large bush that disguised the entire team, one of the Masters of Evil’s henchmen stopped, grunting as he turned his head suspiciously, before continuing right on. The entire team waited till he was out of hearing range before letting out a collective sigh of relief.

“You almost got us caught! Again!” Bucky hissed at him. Clint chuckled nervously, shrugging.

“You know, it’s kind of funny that the bad guys never check behind the bushes,” Jan pointed out as she peeked through the foliage, watching the guards walk around.

“Whatever; Sam, do you have the coins?” Tony said, whipping his to the man, eyes gleaming almost maniacally; ever since they had gotten word of a ‘secret treasure’ Baron Zemo was searching for in ancient temples in the Amazon, Tony’s been extra energetic, especially once he got a hold of the map that lead to the supposed treasure.

He barely noticed when Steve spared a moment from watching the guards’ patterns - they really were just awful - to give a fond glance over at him; he knew how much Steve was a sap, so he just leaned a bit closer into his husband’s space while still mostly paying attention to Sam.

“Yeah yeah, got them right here,” Sam said, holding up the clear bag that held the eight, unnecessarily large golden coins they spent a long, painful time in the jungle looking for; something about the temple needing the coins to reach the end of the ‘stairway to heaven’ or whatever.

“Great! Now all we gotta do is get to the temple…” Tony said, turning back to the temple itself; there weren’t that many guards and the team could easily take them out - they knew that the Masters of Evil weren’t even there yet, as they had gotten word they just sent the henchmen ahead of time - but more time spent fighting was less time getting the Chalice!

Taking a moment to weigh the pros and cons, he mentally shrugged, grabbed the bag right from Sam’s hand - ignoring his indignant “Hey!” - and flew right over to the temple when all the guards’ had weren’t looking.

Knowing that he would be in trouble with Cap later didn’t change anything as he hummed, flying up the steep steps to stop in front of the sealed door of the temple at the very top. It had eight notches, and reminded him of a poker table… maybe they could play later… no, focus!

Despite the yelling and fighting noises going on behind him - they would be fine, he was sure - he hummed along to AC/DC as he popped each coin into one of the slots.

And then… nothing happened.

Frowning, Tony put his hands on his hips, tilting his head and having J run an analysis on the door. No, the coins were all pretty snug in there, so why wasn’t it opening?

“Steeeve! The door isn’t opening!” Tony whined into the mics.

“Well, Iron Man, it might have if you hadn’t run off onto your own,” Steve grunted into the mic as he no doubt kicked butt like the hero he was. And if he sounded more than a bit irritated at Tony, well, he had little doubt once they got the Amulet itself he would see it was totally worth it.

Just as he was about to retort something snarky, or tell Hank to come over and break the door down, a rumbling in the ground caused him to turn. The door slowly slid open, revealing… a hole. Straight into the ground.

Walking over to said hole, Tony cautiously leaned over and peeked down. There was orange light coming from somewhere down there - fire, maybe? Who lights the torches in a sealed abandoned temple, anyways? - and he saw it wasn’t that deep.

Humming in thought, he barely noticed the others gathering around and chatting about the hole until a firm arm wrapped around his waist. Looking over, he saw Steve also staring down into the hole.

“Well, down the rabbit hole we go,” Steve said after a second, shooting a smirk in Tony’s direction.

Tony blinked in surprise, but smirked right back, not that Steve could see through the helmet; even so he seemed to understand, anyways, judging by the warm glow in his eyes and the gentle squeeze of his arm. Retracting his helmet just for a second, Tony leaned over and gave his husband a quick peck on the lips.

“Last one there has to tell Hulk and Thor there aren’t any pizza joints or pop-tarts in the Amazon.” And with that, Tony stove straight down, hackling the whole way. Steve sighed and simply stepped into the hole, following his ridiculous husband.

“Oh hell, no-” Sam said, jumping right after with his wings folded up to fit, Redwing following close behind. The rest all looked at each other.

“Remember what mobile games taught you; ramps give you extra points and a speed boost.” With that and a wink, Clint jumped down, followed by a giggling Jan, an amused Nat, and a resigned Hank and Bucky.

What followed was a blur of fire lit - seriously, who lit the torches down there? - passageways built like a maze (“...Aren’t we going around in-” “Shut up, Sam”), booby traps galore including spike pits that some of them swung across with a rope Hank conveniently had on hand (“What? You never know when you need a rope”), and many, many failed attempts to grab random treasures that were just the pen-ultimate tropes of movies (“Clint, I swear, if you grab that red monkey I’m gonna-”).

Finally, they made it to the final room, dusty but in - surprisingly - one piece.

Sitting on a pedestal, with the light filtering through the cracks in the walls to perfectly light it up and everything - weren’t they underground, though? - was the Chalice. Above it, Tony zoomed in on the faded ancient writing; Jarvis automatically translated it to ‘Temple of Zumba’, which, weird, considering what the Chalice was for, but whatever.

“Now, we have to be careful, it’s probably-” Steve didn’t get a chance to finish, as, at that moment, a loud explosion rocked the temple. When everyone looked up as the dust settled, a familiar, annoying laugh filled the air.

“Baron Zemo,” Steve all but growled - which Tony silently swooned at; his Captain America Voice(™) was one of the hottest things - and glared, hands clenched as the villain all but postured right next to the pedestal.

“Captain America, Avengers, we meet again,” he said haughtily, hands on his hips and staring down at them with that stupid purple mask of his. “I’d say it was nice seeing you, but… it really is not,” he said, reaching over to grab the Chalice.

“Uh, you know that’s booby-” Tony didn’t get to finish.

As soon as Zemo picked up the Chalice, a massive rock came out of nowhere and fell right on top of him; there wasn’t even a rumble or anything.

“...You were saying, Stark?” Nat said, looking incredibly amused and almost vindicated as they all stared where the Master of Evil was now laying flat on the ground, groaning.

“You know, considering what our so called ‘arch-enemies’ are like, I’m not that surprised,” Tony mused, putting a hand to his chin and tilting his head.

“...Right. Clint, call Wanda to have Vision pilot the Quinjet come pick us up - and no, you can’t pilot the Quinjet, you’re still banned from almost crashing it into a tree because you forgot the fuel canisters, stop whining - and Bucky, Nat, and Hank, help me get Zemo out of there and in cuffs; Tony, you grab the Chalice, I can see you dying to get it, and Jan, try and find a way out of here that doesn’t require going back through the entire temple.”

Everyone set about doing their jobs, maybe more than with a bit of pleasure in some cases.

Tony all but squealed like a prepubescent teenager when he picked the all so important Chalice. Finally, he got it!

And of course, by the time Zemo was locked in cuffs and out cold over Bucky’s shoulder, Jan - using her powers to sneak in the small cracks and crevices - had found a secret, ancient passageway - yet again with lit torches; Tony was almost 99% positive it was magic somehow by this point - that led straight out of the temple to a nearby cliffside that had the absolutely gorgeous view of the sunset over the jungle.

As they all finally relaxed in the Quinjet from running around in the Amazon and secret temples all day, with half the team watching the still unconscious - and probably concussed, but who cares - Baron, Clint looked over as Tony, who was snuggled up against an amused Steve’s side, gleefully turning the Chalice over, having Jarvis analyze and document every inch of it.

“What’s the thing for, anyways?” Probably should have asked earlier, but whatever.

Tony grinned, that manic look returning; Steve started to look a bit more concerned, as he should be.

“I generally don’t like magic, but this? This is a whole different creature,” Tony said happily, smirking at all the surprised looks everyone gave him; it was well known how much he hated magic.

“...like what?”

Tony’s grin gained teeth.

“Well…”

0o0o0o0o0

Tony hummed happily, tapping the side of the Chalice.

Instantly, the Chalice filled with a light brown and delightfully hot liquid. Tony poured it into a mug next to it - it was rude to drink from the milk carton, after all - and picked it up.

Taking a sip, Tony sighed; the coffee was just the right boldness, and with the perfect amount of lactose-free cream and sugar. Which, of course, meant it would give a normal, weak human a heart attack; at least in Tony’s opinion.

“I can’t believe you went all that way for a Chalice that makes coffee.” The bland yet impressed tone Bruce used made Tony smile, even though Bruce had turned him down for his bitter tea.

“It’s not my fault that they translated the text wrong; this is the Chalice of ‘Hot Drink Of Poverty’; they thought it was the Chalice of ‘Blood of Fiery Death’!” Tony said gleefully, kissing Steve’s cheek when he walked into the kitchen and standing up to grab another mug for him.

“How did they get that mixed up?” Bruce asked, frowning; those were two very different things.

Making another cup of coffee, perfect as far as Steve’s - weird; who drinks their coffee straight black? But Tony loved him anyways - taste went, he handed him the hot mug, picking up his own with a shrug. “Some things just get lost in translation, Brucey Bear.” Leaning against his husband, he took another sip, relishing in the sweetness of the perfect cup of coffee.

He hummed, snuggling closer against Steve’s side when his husband pressed a gentle kiss into his hair. This was the life.

“-NO POP-TARTS IN THE JUNGLE? THE AUDACITY-” Thor roared, followed by Clint’s manly screams, loud laughter, and the sound of the living room - yet again - getting trashed.

Yup, just another day in the life of the Avengers.