Half the team was sprawled around the sectional—some pretending to watch a movie, most not.

Tony had his feet up on the coffee table, a tablet balanced on his chest. Steve sat at the far end with a sketchbook, actually drawing. Sam and Rhodey were losing badly at a card game neither would admit mattered.

On the floor, cross-legged and surrounded by a kingdom of snacks, sat Piper Parker—hair a mess, sleeves past her knuckles, narrating the movie out loud to anyone within earshot.

So when it opened, nobody noticed right away.

And then James Buchanan Barnes walked in with his jaw set like he was marching into a war zone.

Tony's tablet hit the floor with a clatter.

Her name was Yelena Belova. She had earbuds in, one boot up on the window ledge, and a bag of chips balanced on her knee. She was licking salt off her thumb and looked, by all accounts, extremely comfortable.

The room went quiet behind him. Not all at once. Like someone had turned down a dial, one notch at a time.

And then, into the ringing silence, Piper Parker audibly aspirated a chip the wrong way.