natasha romanoff one-shots (gxg)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐯𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐬 (𝟏/𝟑)

a/n: watched 'friends' and wanted to turn the episode into a chapter :) this isn't completely accurate to the ep tho

aou!nat bc she's underrated

"Guys?", Clint says, frowning as he's looking at his phone. "Guys."

You look up from the small tower you're building out of plastic cups — boredom took over hours ago — and wait for him to continue, excited for at least some kind of distraction.

Natasha, curled up in one of the armchairs, glances at Clint as well, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her eyes flicker over to look at you, then she turns her attention back to Clint again.

"So, uhm, someone might be in trouble." He clears his throat as he reads the message again. "Said someone is currently stuck in Vegas, because this dumbass got drunk and caused public disturbance."

"Who?", you promptly ask, almost begging for the details of this story. Nothing interesting has happened in days, and you've been way too close to losing your mind for an entire while now.

"Tony. Who else", Clint says, snorting. "He got arrested."

"So?" Natasha shrugs. "He can bail himself out."

"Of course he can. But he lost his wallet, and he's drunk as a skunk." He sighs and gets up, starting to rummage through his backpack. You raise your eyebrows as you watch him. "Who's in the mood for Vegas?"

Suddenly, everyone around you starts getting up — after all, who'd miss out on the chance of going to Las Vegas and getting to see Tony humiliate himself?

But when Wanda and Pietro decide to get up as well, clearly under the impression they might be allowed to join the trip too, Clint suddenly shuts them down.

"Nuh-uh. Not you two. You're a few years too young for that." They immediately begin a half-hearted, quiet protest, but they don't get far. Clint shakes his head firmly, standing his ground. "I said no. Vegas is full of alcohol and gambling, I don't need two pubescents running around with us there as well."

"He's right", Steve points out. "That is no place for teenagers. You guys are staying home."

"Alone?", Wanda asks, sighing.

"Not alone. Y/N, Nat, you're playing babysitter."

Natasha instantly sits up. "Wait, what?", she asks in disbelief. She wasn't too fond of traveling to Las Vegas, but staying home and babysitting the twins seems even worse. Your eyes meet when you look at each other, and you huff quietly at your choice being taken from you.

"No discussion", Clint mumbles, zipping his backpack shut. "Everyone else: go upstairs and get ready. Can't wait to see Stark behind bars."

"Great", Natasha mumbles, watching Pietro go back to watching tv and showing a mountain of chicken nuggets into his mouth. "Just lovely."

"Oh, relax", you murmur, continuing to build that stupid cup-tower. "So we're babysitting. Big deal."

She turns her head to playfully narrow her eyes at you, reaching over to flick one of the lower cups. The upper ones topple over and the tower collapses, cups rolling all over the table. "We're babysitting teenagers, Y/N. Which, by the way, I didn't think was an option."

You huff, gathering the cups again. "First of all: rude. Second of all: at least they won't throw up on us, so see that as a plus."

"I wouldn't be too sure", Natasha mumbles, glancing at Pietro. The chicken nuggets have vanished within minutes, and now he's downing a bottle of Pepsi.