Shadows and Secrets (A MCU FanFic)

Chapter 7: Games

trigger warning: mild language that may be offensive or upsetting to some readers

Clint's POV

So THIS is Nat's real scheme, Clint thought.

Tony was flirting with Steve. Like, hardcore.

And Clint was shoved off to the side. He doubted Steve would notice if he crawled away into the vents. Which was what he was doing.

Clint was going to get coffee. He would need it.

Earlier, Nat had told him that she had made a plan to get Stony together (she was crazy about the ship, and Clint found her obsession over the top and unnecessary. He didn't understand why she shipped things so much, especially when she was aro bi, but whatever) that involved the day's training.

Nat's plans to get them together had never worked before, and Clint doubted this was any different. Like the failed laser tag scheme.

But he played along because he knew Nat must really care to give up her opportunity to crush everyone at laser tag (except Bucky and Marjorie, but Nat always picked them for her team anyway), and he wanted Steve and Tony to be happy.

Everyone on the Avengers had gone through so much so young, more than most people experience in their lifetime.

It wasn't fair.

They all deserve to be happy.

Nat had volun-told (volunteering but really ordered) him to play along with the game, but to not get in the way of Stony. Clint rolled his eyes. This is so stupid.

Steve would never believe Tony was flirting with him for real, not just because Nat had told him to.

And Tony still thought Steve was straight, the idiot. You would think being pan would make you more likely to notice if a cute guy was into you, but nooo. (Not that Clint thought Steve was cute, he was straight. But just because he was straight, it didn't mean he was stupid.) Tony was oblivious.

Nat was still going to win at training. She always won.

Twice a week Nat got to pick a training exercise that was "out of the box," because she was really the leader of the team.

(And because she was Fury's favorite, but that didn't bother him. If Clint was Fury, Nat would be his favorite too.)

It had been chaos until the team sat down together and made a schedule:

Sunday Weapons/Superpowers/Magic Day

Monday No-training/Do-what-you-want Day

Tueseday Sparring/Combat/Natasha-plans-a-thing Day

Wednesday (Alterrnates) Fury-comes-to-makes-sure-we're-really-doing-stuff Day (or) (another) Weapons/Superpowers/Magic Day

Thursday Pop-Culture/Movie Day

Friday Espeonoge/Decoding/Spy-stuff Day

Saturday No-training/Do-what-you-want Day

Marjorie had named everything. That girl was crazy. A good addition to the team, though.

Clint had finished crawling through the vents, and dropped down into the kitchen. Bucky was leaning against the counter, and Marjorie was sitting on the conter to his right. They were almost touching. Clint didn't understand it.

He usually stayed 6 feet away from Bucky at all times. Because, once, Clint had accidentally bumped into him, and the supersoilder pulled a knife on him. A KNIFE. Bucky really did not like physical contact.