Mister Rogers ⍟ || Steve Rogers

18

"And can you fly?" I challenged, smirking at his silence. "Didn't think so."

"Please," scoffed Barton. "I've seen you hover. Wouldn't exactly call you a rocket."

"Are you really going to make me jump off the roof again?"

We both chuckled. I returned my attention to the box of chow mein in front of me.

"I'm telling you," Barton said, chewing loudly while pointing a chopstick at me, "off the battlefield? You're fourth."

I rolled my eyes as he delved back into one of the many boxes of Chinese takeout scattered across the table.

I briefly surveyed the group around me. The crowd had mostly thinned out, and the last couple of duos invited were grabbing their coats. The rest of the team lounged on the couches.

Natasha and Bruce took up one part of one couch, talking together; Maria and Helen Cho giggled beside each other; Tony and James Rhodes, or Rhodey as he introduced himself to me, animatedly discussed the tech of the Iron Man suits; Thor and Steve were on the couch across from us, their conversation unknown to me, as I was too caught up in my own with Barton.

Our ranking of the team's abilities outside of work had gone in circles for the past fifteen minutes. Still, I couldn't convince Barton of the full appeal of my powers.

I groaned at his stubbornness, "And who here beats glow-in-the-dark Avenger?"

"Uh, for starters, Super Soldier over there. Stark, only because he's a billionaire. Oh and Hulk-"

"Really? Hulk?"

"Oh yeah. Chicks dig the scary green monster thing. Just look at Nat and Banner," he sneered. 

As expected, they sat closely, faces near each other. Natasha wore the biggest smirk I had ever seen and Bruce's cheeks were painted a bright red.

I rolled my eyes, "That's not because he's green."

"You don't know that," said Barton, "Some people are into...rage. Anyways, my point is, angry giant beats sunshine angel."

I narrowed my eyes teasingly. "Well, I'm sorry, but I don't really get the appeal of the bow and arrow, old man."

"Old man? You wanna talk about old men?" Barton sat up straighter, gesturing lazily across the table, "You're dating one, kid."

As I softly chuckled, my gaze drifted over to the hammer on the table. Barton's eyes followed.

"Is God of Thunder on your list?" I sighed, resting my head on my arms on the table as I stared at the weapon, "I so wish I had a hammer."

"It's a trick," muttered Barton. I glanced at him.

He raised his voice a bit and repeated it, staring directly at Thor this time. I turned my head to Thor, who chuckled carelessly, "No, no. It's much more than that."

"'Ah, whoever be he worthy shall haveth the power.' whatever, man. It's a trick!" he mocked. Barton's awful impression caught the attention of everyone else. Their conversations ceased.

Raising his eyebrows, Thor gestured to the table, "Please, be my guest," he offered.

Tempted, Barton looked to Thor once more before stepping up.