A long-awaited day at the beach for rest and relaxation quickly turned into a cutthroat game of volleyball, with each team out for the kill. No matter what the team did as a group, it always became a competition with a fight to the proverbial death. It was also customary for Steve and Tony to be team captains, clearly compensating for some sort of pent up aggression towards each other. So far, Steve's team was falling behind, and your boyfriend's resolve to win was getting to be a bit too much for you to handle.

Covering the net was usually no problem, but with Steve hounding every move his team made it threw you off your game. When Tony set the ball for Bruce, it smacked you in the head, passing right through your hands when you tried to block it.

"Ow! Thanks, Banner!"

"Hulk...smash?"

The joke was such a deadpan that you couldn't help but laugh for the poor doctor, who bent down under the net to be sure he hadn't hurt you. Even when it was just in the spirit of a game, Bruce was always the gentleman and always concerned that he might have caused something.

"Good one, Bruce. But I'm fine, thanks."

When you rotated positions on the court, Tony was now in front of you directly across the net. You couldn't help but taunt him, hoping to throw him off so you could make your move. "You're going down, tin man."

"I look forward to it, sweetheart."

Natasha served the ball just above your head, aimed to fall right into Tony's hands. He jumped up to spike it at you but you were ready for him; the block reflected back and bounced off his head with a loud smack.

"Nice one, kid." Tony rubbed the impact spot on his head, then reached under the net and tapped your behind when you turned to accept Steve's congratulations.

Still facing Steve, your eyes widened at the realization of what Tony had just done, and the realization that your boyfriend would have none of it. "Yeah, thanks," you murmured. "Okay! Nat, serve it up again!" You could only hope that Steve hadn't noticed, so you tried to keep the game moving forward. After a few moments of volleying, the ball finally met with Steve's hands. He leapt up and spiked it down hard, hitting Tony in the chest and knocking him down into the sand. Tony jumped up quickly, and his stance looked like he was ready to fight.

"Okay, guys, I see what's going on here, but you need to chill." You pushed yourself between them but you weren't able to stop Steve from charging forward. "Nat? A little help?" Your friend rushed forward to join you, standing back to back with you so you faced each man directly. "Come on, Cap. I vote we just call it a game and split up for a bit. Tony?"

Clint moved in, taking Tony's arm and directing him away from the court, "Let's go, Stark. I'll buy you a beer."

As Clint and Tony walked away, you crossed your arms over your chest and gave Steve a stern look, slapping his arm in frustration. "What the hell was that, Rogers? Have you just started picking fights now? Are they fun for you?"

"He should watch where he puts his hands." He lifted you off the ground and threw you casually over his shoulder despite your resistance and laughter at his sudden possessiveness. "That's mine."

~~~

With the competition done, you were finally able to get some time alone with your music and a book. The sun had begun to set and a cool breeze was coming in and it was absolutely perfect. Steve was on the blanket next to you, reading the files for the mission that the team would begin tomorrow.

"You know that today is about relaxing, right? That mission you're reading about? It's going to pull us away for at least a month, so this is our last chance for this." You set your book down and reached over to collect the papers that he had spread out before him, moving the shells and rocks that he was using as paperweights. "This. Can. Wait."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, giving you a slight nod of agreement. "You're right. Of course you're right." Steve leaned over to give you a quick kiss before he stood, shaking the beach sand from his legs. "I'm gonna grab a beer, do you want one?"

"Mmm," you hummed in agreement, already immersed in your book. He was barely gone before you heard a voice saying something to you, but with the music playing you couldn't quite make it out. You looked up from your book to see a young, far too young man crouched in front of you, trying to get your attention. Removing your earbuds, you decided to entertain the man who was brave enough to approach you.

"Can I help you?"

"So now that he's gone, I was wondering if I could buy you a drink?"

You smiled ever so slightly, and slowly closed your book to set it beside you. "He's getting me one, thanks though."

"What do you see in that guy, anyway?"

"I beg your pardon?" The kid was getting brave and you might need to shut him down. "You do realize who that is, don't you?"

The man appeared to be looking into his mind, trying to find the answer for you, as if that would impress you in some way and give him even the slightest chance with you. "Hmm, no. Not really. But not to sound too confident, I think you could do better."

Your laugh was clear and free to be heard now, feeling sorry for the man who was trying to make an impression on you when he clearly had no clue what he was talking about. "So, tell me. What could you possibly have to offer me that Captain America doesn't?"

His face grew pale as the realization hit him. Or perhaps, it was the arrival of Steve right behind you that took the color from him. Either way, the point had been made.

"Beat it, junior."

Steve laughed and handed you your drink as he watched the young man disappear further down the beach. "You sure seem to be getting a lot of attention today, doll. I think we might need to get you some conservative swimwear for next time." He sat on the blanket next to you, still laughing.

"Listen here, gramps. This ain't the 40's." Sitting up to drink your beer, you hopped over onto his lap to watch the waves rolling in as the sun got lower on the horizon. "And I know you like this one."

"Yeah, but so does everyone else. I guess I'll just need to make it clear."

"Make what clear?"

His large, muscular arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you tightly against his chest, a quiet growl whispered into your ear.

"Mine."