Follow Up
Title: Follow Up
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine! Characters you recognize belong to Marvel, though this is my version of crackfic and not compliant with ANYTHING. This is the sequel to Winter Storm Bucky (On AO3), using prompts from zandperl. Because. :)
Summary: No emergencies, and Winter Storm Bucky was supposed to be epic. So why not stick around and see what it looked like?
Predictions for Winter Storm Bucky held that northeast Wisconsin, particularly the Green Bay area, should have between six and nine inches of snow. Surrounding counties had shut down the schools and canceled any nonessential functions in preparation for the storm, and some businesses didn't even bother to open for the day, or planned to close early. With New York and its environs fairly quiet, and no international incidents on the horizon, Steve requested to stay in the area to see what the storm was supposed to look like. "I missed the one in 1940, but I heard about it afterward," he offered.
"Sounds fine with me," Clint replied, shrugging. "What?" he asked defensively when Natasha looked at him incredulously. "I could fly through a snowstorm, sure, but why? The airport is going to be packed, the tarmac's likely going to be iced over, we'll have to wait for the wings to be de-iced, and it's going to be a mess in the visual field. No emergencies, and Winter Storm Bucky was supposed to be epic. So why not stick around and see what it looks like?"
Winter Storm Bucky turned out to be far less devastating than predicted, at least in Green Bay.
Most of the hotels and motels were already booked up in anticipation of the storm, so the group of friends was in one room in Ashwaubenon, the township right outside of Green Bay. They had dinner in DePere, and were distinctly not in awe of the snow that turned to sleet and rain partway through the storm. The roads were slush and slippery to drive in, but it didn't seem to be too impossible to navigate. They did see a fair number of accidents, cars careening off the road into ditches or into other cars; the SUV drivers seemed to be particularly susceptible to that.
"I wouldn't want to be a first responder in this mess," Sam had commented, shaking his head.
The four had simply paired off in the double beds of the room they shared, Natasha and Clint in one while Steve and Sam shared the other. In the morning, Steve actually looked disappointed when he looked out of the window. "Nothing. The rain washed away a lot of the snow."
Natasha turned on Fox 11 to get the local weather, and the scrolling ticker at the bottom of the screen listed delays of two hours for Green Bay and some of the surrounding communities. "It looks like some places did close today," she commented.
"We should have stayed there!" Steve remarked.
Clint snickered and started up a pot of coffee in the mini coffee maker. He was rumpled, his hair sticking up in odd angles, and didn't seem to care that he was in only his undershirt and underwear in front of the others. "You're that disappointed not to be stuck under two feet of snow? There was actually a storm in New York a few years back, you know. I think before they defrosted you. The city was paralyzed. Nowhere to dump the snow."
"Is it terrible that I would love to see that?" Steve grumped, sitting down. "It would be nice to be snowed in, don't you think?"
"No," Natasha replied promptly, shaking her head. "It looks nice, but it's not fun. Especially when the supplies start running low and you wonder where your next meal comes from."
"I'm not talking about tragic level snow-ins," Steve protested.
"You think maybe they overestimated the storm because it was named after a guy?" Sam asked, defusing the potential conversation before it even started. "Kind of like there's talk of how tropical storms with female names are more devastating because they're underestimated. Think it's the same with winter storms?"
"In that case, I hope the actual Bucky is just as underwhelming as this storm," Clint commented, lifting the freshly brewed pot off the machine. Without even bothering with the provided cups, he started drinking straight from the pot. At Sam's dismayed noise, he mock glared. "Get your own, man. This sweet nectar is all mine."
"You are such a dork," Natasha said with a smile, reaching for her phone on the nightstand.
Clint only laughed in reply, then pointed at himself. "Pot." He pointed at her. "Kettle."
"It's snowing!" Steve cried happily, looking out of the window.
"And you are such a kid," Natasha said, looking at Steve pointedly. "Let's see..." She typed in something on her phone and then smirked at him. "There's a children's museum... Ooh, look, a train museum... The amusement park and miniature golf course looks like it might be closed for the winter, but maybe the New Zoo is an option."
"Romanoff," Steve began, pointing at her again.
Natasha snickered and typed in something else on her phone. "Or what about outside of Green Bay, then? In case other places got more snow? Hm... There's a beach in Two Rivers, a nature preserve and dunes. Oh! A maritime museum in Manitowoc that has a submarine that had been used in World War II. The USS Cobia." She looked up with a smirk. "That'll help you feel right at home," she added.
"That was low," Steve remarked, calmly walking over and plucking her phone out of her hands before swatting her shoulder.
"They give out tours," Natasha sing-songed. "And if you say you visited the area, Coulson will definitely swoon."
"Why?" Sam asked.
"He's from there," Natasha reported proudly.
Clint smirked at Steve and Sam, who looked stunned. "See? She knows everything."
"Or at least how to look like I do," she corrected with a serene expression, standing. She took her phone back and headed to the bathroom. "I call dibs on the shower."
"I'm next!" Clint called out immediately. "She uses a lot of hot water," he informed Steve and Sam with a grin. "So do I. So odds are good both of you are getting cold showers."
Sam shook his head ruefully. "Never a dull moment with you guys."
***
I-43 had been cleared of snow overnight, and the snow that was currently coming down was large and fluffy. It looked like someone had taken a goose down pillow and shook the contents down over the entire area. Local weather reports predicted another one to two inches of snow, and Steve had comically looked disappointed by it. He had been surprised to find that there were people walking around in Ashwaubenon in denim shorts and windbreakers, and Sam noticed a man wearing nylon gym shorts, hiking boots and a winter coat to walk his dog.
"These people are weird," Sam commented. Natasha just laughed and kept on driving.
The four had only snagged a few muffins and bagels from the continental breakfast, so Natasha drove down to the more commercial end of Manitowoc. Clint rode shotgun. The main roads were fairly clear, though some of the fluffy snow was sticking to the ground in a thin layer of white. "Perkins is open," Natasha declared, "so we can have breakfast there. After that we can see Coulson's alma mater and visit the Maritime Museum."
"Yes, Mom," Steve joked.
"Perkins?" Sam asked.
"Midwest thing," Clint supplied, turning around in the front passenger seat. "I like Cracker Barrel better, though."
"Because they have games on the table and the entire front space is for shopping," Natasha said.
"Well, yeah. I've gotten genius level on that triangle game thingy," Clint said with a smile.
"Triangle game thingy," Sam repeated dubiously.
"You know, with pegs that you jump over other pegs, and you try to have only one left. I've gotten to only one left." He gave them a smug grin before turning back to the front of the car.
"Because you've played too often," Natasha snickered.
"Too many jobs and stakeouts in the Midwest. It was even worse in New Mexico. I couldn't find any place I wanted to eat in Puente Antiguo."
"Looks like this is the main drag," Sam commented as Natasha turned off of I-43 and maneuvered into the right hand lane.
"What's frozen custard?" Steve asked, looking down the street to where a prominent Culver's sign was in view. The snow was thinning out enough that the others could easily see the blue sign as well.
"It's good," Clint told them. "They have a flavor of the day, too."
"How do you know all this?" Steve asked him.
"Born, raised, and traveled all over the Midwest," he said with a shrug. "I tell people I'm from Iowa a lot, though."
"Why?"
"It's the Hawkeye state."
They groaned at the joke as Natasha pulled into the parking lot. "I hope you're hungry," she announced. "Portions tend to be generous."
"At least we get a road trip out of this. And for a fun kind of reason," Sam told Steve.
It was odd not to be recognized as an Avenger, even if they were all dressed in wrinkled sweaters and jeans. The crowd was thin, looking to be mostly retired people meeting up for breakfast or brunch. There were a few comments about the Super Bowl the following week, how heavy the snow had been to shovel, and the disappointment that most of the bars and restaurants on Calumet had closed early the night before.
The Maritime Museum was closed. They stood on the sidewalk and leaned against the railing, looking at the USS Cobia in the Manitowoc River, then across the river at the empty lot across from the library that held a skating rink. The entire downtown area seemed fairly quaint, though some of the storefronts were empty and had for sale signs up. Steve was actually disappointed; as much as he had scoffed at the idea of touring the submarine, he had also been looking forward to seeing it. He hadn't been in one during the war, and this one had been painstakingly saved and maintained. Sometimes he felt like too much of history was lost, and here was a piece of it moored in a river.
"Winter Storm Jonah had more snow than this," Steve sighed, shaking his head. They had been away from New York during that record snowfall, over thirty inches in some areas around the city, and the mayor hadn't even shut down anything. With the reaction of Wisconsin counties, he had been hoping for something spectacular.
"So now what? Off to Mitchell airport and back to New York?" Sam asked.
The snow started to get a bit thicker, but it certainly wasn't whiteout conditions. Steve looked out toward the lighthouse, and then over the expanse of Lake Michigan. The sky was white, snow coming down, the temperature just at the freezing point and not so terribly cold despite the occasional wind blowing past.
"We didn't see Phil's high school, did we?" Steve asked. "Think it's in walking distance?"
"I'm not walking," Clint piped up, shaking his head.
"Roads will get icy as the temperature drops," Natasha added. "But I can drive there. Classes are in session, so we probably shouldn't walk around the grounds. A safety officer might think we're dangerous."
That earned her a few snorts of amusement, and they piled back into the car. The snow was fluffy and heavy, coming down thickly as Natasha drove through the small city. Some of the streets were slick from the snow, though plows had come through and salt spreaders and already brined the roads. It was a peaceful drive as Natasha drove up Maritime and then doubled back into the city.
As Natasha pulled up near the high school, Steve's phone trilled. "Message from Jarvis," he announced after pulling it out of his pocket. "Looks like a Doombot arrived in New Jersey."
"Isn't that an improvement?" Clint quipped.
"Not if a hundred more arrive," Steve pointed out.
"Back to New York, then," Sam said.
An Avenger's work was never done.
The End
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine! Characters you recognize belong to Marvel, though this is my version of crackfic and not compliant with ANYTHING. This is the sequel to Winter Storm Bucky (On AO3), using prompts from zandperl. Because. :)
Summary: No emergencies, and Winter Storm Bucky was supposed to be epic. So why not stick around and see what it looked like?
Predictions for Winter Storm Bucky held that northeast Wisconsin, particularly the Green Bay area, should have between six and nine inches of snow. Surrounding counties had shut down the schools and canceled any nonessential functions in preparation for the storm, and some businesses didn't even bother to open for the day, or planned to close early. With New York and its environs fairly quiet, and no international incidents on the horizon, Steve requested to stay in the area to see what the storm was supposed to look like. "I missed the one in 1940, but I heard about it afterward," he offered.
"Sounds fine with me," Clint replied, shrugging. "What?" he asked defensively when Natasha looked at him incredulously. "I could fly through a snowstorm, sure, but why? The airport is going to be packed, the tarmac's likely going to be iced over, we'll have to wait for the wings to be de-iced, and it's going to be a mess in the visual field. No emergencies, and Winter Storm Bucky was supposed to be epic. So why not stick around and see what it looks like?"
Winter Storm Bucky turned out to be far less devastating than predicted, at least in Green Bay.
Most of the hotels and motels were already booked up in anticipation of the storm, so the group of friends was in one room in Ashwaubenon, the township right outside of Green Bay. They had dinner in DePere, and were distinctly not in awe of the snow that turned to sleet and rain partway through the storm. The roads were slush and slippery to drive in, but it didn't seem to be too impossible to navigate. They did see a fair number of accidents, cars careening off the road into ditches or into other cars; the SUV drivers seemed to be particularly susceptible to that.
"I wouldn't want to be a first responder in this mess," Sam had commented, shaking his head.
The four had simply paired off in the double beds of the room they shared, Natasha and Clint in one while Steve and Sam shared the other. In the morning, Steve actually looked disappointed when he looked out of the window. "Nothing. The rain washed away a lot of the snow."
Natasha turned on Fox 11 to get the local weather, and the scrolling ticker at the bottom of the screen listed delays of two hours for Green Bay and some of the surrounding communities. "It looks like some places did close today," she commented.
"We should have stayed there!" Steve remarked.
Clint snickered and started up a pot of coffee in the mini coffee maker. He was rumpled, his hair sticking up in odd angles, and didn't seem to care that he was in only his undershirt and underwear in front of the others. "You're that disappointed not to be stuck under two feet of snow? There was actually a storm in New York a few years back, you know. I think before they defrosted you. The city was paralyzed. Nowhere to dump the snow."
"Is it terrible that I would love to see that?" Steve grumped, sitting down. "It would be nice to be snowed in, don't you think?"
"No," Natasha replied promptly, shaking her head. "It looks nice, but it's not fun. Especially when the supplies start running low and you wonder where your next meal comes from."
"I'm not talking about tragic level snow-ins," Steve protested.
"You think maybe they overestimated the storm because it was named after a guy?" Sam asked, defusing the potential conversation before it even started. "Kind of like there's talk of how tropical storms with female names are more devastating because they're underestimated. Think it's the same with winter storms?"
"In that case, I hope the actual Bucky is just as underwhelming as this storm," Clint commented, lifting the freshly brewed pot off the machine. Without even bothering with the provided cups, he started drinking straight from the pot. At Sam's dismayed noise, he mock glared. "Get your own, man. This sweet nectar is all mine."
"You are such a dork," Natasha said with a smile, reaching for her phone on the nightstand.
Clint only laughed in reply, then pointed at himself. "Pot." He pointed at her. "Kettle."
"It's snowing!" Steve cried happily, looking out of the window.
"And you are such a kid," Natasha said, looking at Steve pointedly. "Let's see..." She typed in something on her phone and then smirked at him. "There's a children's museum... Ooh, look, a train museum... The amusement park and miniature golf course looks like it might be closed for the winter, but maybe the New Zoo is an option."
"Romanoff," Steve began, pointing at her again.
Natasha snickered and typed in something else on her phone. "Or what about outside of Green Bay, then? In case other places got more snow? Hm... There's a beach in Two Rivers, a nature preserve and dunes. Oh! A maritime museum in Manitowoc that has a submarine that had been used in World War II. The USS Cobia." She looked up with a smirk. "That'll help you feel right at home," she added.
"That was low," Steve remarked, calmly walking over and plucking her phone out of her hands before swatting her shoulder.
"They give out tours," Natasha sing-songed. "And if you say you visited the area, Coulson will definitely swoon."
"Why?" Sam asked.
"He's from there," Natasha reported proudly.
Clint smirked at Steve and Sam, who looked stunned. "See? She knows everything."
"Or at least how to look like I do," she corrected with a serene expression, standing. She took her phone back and headed to the bathroom. "I call dibs on the shower."
"I'm next!" Clint called out immediately. "She uses a lot of hot water," he informed Steve and Sam with a grin. "So do I. So odds are good both of you are getting cold showers."
Sam shook his head ruefully. "Never a dull moment with you guys."
***
I-43 had been cleared of snow overnight, and the snow that was currently coming down was large and fluffy. It looked like someone had taken a goose down pillow and shook the contents down over the entire area. Local weather reports predicted another one to two inches of snow, and Steve had comically looked disappointed by it. He had been surprised to find that there were people walking around in Ashwaubenon in denim shorts and windbreakers, and Sam noticed a man wearing nylon gym shorts, hiking boots and a winter coat to walk his dog.
"These people are weird," Sam commented. Natasha just laughed and kept on driving.
The four had only snagged a few muffins and bagels from the continental breakfast, so Natasha drove down to the more commercial end of Manitowoc. Clint rode shotgun. The main roads were fairly clear, though some of the fluffy snow was sticking to the ground in a thin layer of white. "Perkins is open," Natasha declared, "so we can have breakfast there. After that we can see Coulson's alma mater and visit the Maritime Museum."
"Yes, Mom," Steve joked.
"Perkins?" Sam asked.
"Midwest thing," Clint supplied, turning around in the front passenger seat. "I like Cracker Barrel better, though."
"Because they have games on the table and the entire front space is for shopping," Natasha said.
"Well, yeah. I've gotten genius level on that triangle game thingy," Clint said with a smile.
"Triangle game thingy," Sam repeated dubiously.
"You know, with pegs that you jump over other pegs, and you try to have only one left. I've gotten to only one left." He gave them a smug grin before turning back to the front of the car.
"Because you've played too often," Natasha snickered.
"Too many jobs and stakeouts in the Midwest. It was even worse in New Mexico. I couldn't find any place I wanted to eat in Puente Antiguo."
"Looks like this is the main drag," Sam commented as Natasha turned off of I-43 and maneuvered into the right hand lane.
"What's frozen custard?" Steve asked, looking down the street to where a prominent Culver's sign was in view. The snow was thinning out enough that the others could easily see the blue sign as well.
"It's good," Clint told them. "They have a flavor of the day, too."
"How do you know all this?" Steve asked him.
"Born, raised, and traveled all over the Midwest," he said with a shrug. "I tell people I'm from Iowa a lot, though."
"Why?"
"It's the Hawkeye state."
They groaned at the joke as Natasha pulled into the parking lot. "I hope you're hungry," she announced. "Portions tend to be generous."
"At least we get a road trip out of this. And for a fun kind of reason," Sam told Steve.
It was odd not to be recognized as an Avenger, even if they were all dressed in wrinkled sweaters and jeans. The crowd was thin, looking to be mostly retired people meeting up for breakfast or brunch. There were a few comments about the Super Bowl the following week, how heavy the snow had been to shovel, and the disappointment that most of the bars and restaurants on Calumet had closed early the night before.
The Maritime Museum was closed. They stood on the sidewalk and leaned against the railing, looking at the USS Cobia in the Manitowoc River, then across the river at the empty lot across from the library that held a skating rink. The entire downtown area seemed fairly quaint, though some of the storefronts were empty and had for sale signs up. Steve was actually disappointed; as much as he had scoffed at the idea of touring the submarine, he had also been looking forward to seeing it. He hadn't been in one during the war, and this one had been painstakingly saved and maintained. Sometimes he felt like too much of history was lost, and here was a piece of it moored in a river.
"Winter Storm Jonah had more snow than this," Steve sighed, shaking his head. They had been away from New York during that record snowfall, over thirty inches in some areas around the city, and the mayor hadn't even shut down anything. With the reaction of Wisconsin counties, he had been hoping for something spectacular.
"So now what? Off to Mitchell airport and back to New York?" Sam asked.
The snow started to get a bit thicker, but it certainly wasn't whiteout conditions. Steve looked out toward the lighthouse, and then over the expanse of Lake Michigan. The sky was white, snow coming down, the temperature just at the freezing point and not so terribly cold despite the occasional wind blowing past.
"We didn't see Phil's high school, did we?" Steve asked. "Think it's in walking distance?"
"I'm not walking," Clint piped up, shaking his head.
"Roads will get icy as the temperature drops," Natasha added. "But I can drive there. Classes are in session, so we probably shouldn't walk around the grounds. A safety officer might think we're dangerous."
That earned her a few snorts of amusement, and they piled back into the car. The snow was fluffy and heavy, coming down thickly as Natasha drove through the small city. Some of the streets were slick from the snow, though plows had come through and salt spreaders and already brined the roads. It was a peaceful drive as Natasha drove up Maritime and then doubled back into the city.
As Natasha pulled up near the high school, Steve's phone trilled. "Message from Jarvis," he announced after pulling it out of his pocket. "Looks like a Doombot arrived in New Jersey."
"Isn't that an improvement?" Clint quipped.
"Not if a hundred more arrive," Steve pointed out.
"Back to New York, then," Sam said.
An Avenger's work was never done.
The End