12 | i don't like exercise

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i don't like exercise


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"Okay, what happened after I left?" Tony's voice woke Cara up, and she sat up from the couch that she'd slept on for the rest of the night.

She realized that she and Steve hadn't actually gone to sleep in their own respective bedrooms, they'd just curled up on opposite couches and waited for sleep to take them away. But what she did remember was staring at Steve until she felt her eyes close by themselves with fatigue. Seeing the raw emotion that had taken over him replayed in her mind. And all she wanted to know was more.

But right now she had to deal with the way Tony was looking at her, with a suggestive glint in his eyes.

"What, are you jealous, Tin Man?" She smirked, trying to keep her embarrassment at bay.

"I'm going to ignore that nickname and just say, Nat isn't feeling good, so Clint sent me here to get you."

"For what?" Steve, the evidently-exhausted old man, was still sound asleep on his own couch.

"He needs a training partner for the day. And he wanted to see what you're made of." Tony crossed his arms and waited for a response.

But the teenager just knit her eyebrows. "Why don't you go? I mean, you are an Avenger."

"You're right, I am, thanks for the reminder," Tony grinned, and tossed an imaginary lock of hair behind his shoulder. "But thankfully, I was able to create a suit that requires no exercise from me whatsoever. It's great, you should try it sometime."

"I'll take a hard pass on that one, Buzz," Cara replied, and pushed herself up off the couch. "Flying isn't anything I've got on my bucket list, that's for sure."

He shrugged, and if he was offended, he didn't show it. Just started to walk away. "Don't think I've forgotten about seeing you two stretched out in here. I expect a story to tell everyone else by noon."

Cara rolled her eyes, knowing that he was just kidding. By this time, she'd surprisingly gotten a feel for the people she had been hanging around the most, which were Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Nat.

Steve was going to be her protector, she could tell by his body language and interaction with her. He wouldn't let her get hurt, no matter what. It made her feel a bit better about her current living situation, considering they were all close to strangers.

Tony was most definitely going to be her best friend, what with his sarcasm and sassy ways. Sure, his arrogance could be a downright pain in the ass, but it was what made Tony, Tony. And Cara's new persona was the perfect match for his.

Bruce, if he wanted to be her friend, wouldn't be open about it, she was sure about that. His random act of kindness was just that, kind, but she couldn't read him, and hadn't exactly talked to him as much as she'd have liked to since getting here. She was still trying to figure him out.

And then there was Nat, who obviously had a thing for Bruce. And it was an extreme contrast to the usual mean, sour mood that she seemed to have going on whenever Cara was around. Yeah, I'm never going to be buddy-buddy with her, that's for sure.

She heard leather cushions shifting behind her, and turned to see Steve sitting up, wiping his eyes. "What time is it?"

"I hate that joke, I'm not even gonna do it," she said, and looked at the clock hanging on the wall. "Six o'clock, I guess. And Katniss summoned me for training, it seems."

Steve nodded. "Have fun."

"That wasn't...sarcasm, I heard in your voice, was it, Uncle Sam?"

He shook his head wearily. "No, it's exhaustion from your constant energy. And besides: choose which family member I am--Grandpa or Uncle?"

Cara made an expression that looked like she was thinking it through, and then grinned. "Definitely Gramps."

He spread his hands out. "Wonderful," he replied, and then stood up to leave.

"Wait, can you show me to the gym? I'm Legolas' punching bag, remember?"

-

"You're late."

"Well, I wasn't exactly told I was second in line to be your morning torture device." Cara slouched into the gym, still wearing long pants and a t shirt--nothing close to the athletic shorts and tank top Clint had on.

"Torture device?" Clint looked up from his bicep curls, panting for breath.

"Yeah, let's put this simply: I don't like exercise." Cara pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

"Too bad, princess, you're exercising," Clint replied with a smirk.

"Why can't you do it by yourself?" She whined, coming to stand in front of him, keeping her eyes off of his bulging biceps as he continued his curls.

"Because--it's better to have--someone to--talk to," he grunted, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.

"Oh, then that's great," Cara said in relief wiping imaginary sweat off her forehead. "I can just make random conversation with you."

The dumbbells clanged on their rack as Clint put them back, catching his breath. "Fine," he agreed, "I mean, if you really want to."

"Oh, I'd much rather do that than lift some heavy things."

He rolled his eyes at her, and Cara grinned. She decided that she liked how cool Clint was. He didn't have an overwhelming personality, like most of the others. He was just...cool. And she was okay with that.

"Let's play twenty questions! That'll be fun! Except I get to ask you the questions." Cara really did enjoy this game, especially with the men of the Avengers. It was a classic get-to-know-you game that she loved, and so she played it with almost all of her friends.

Clint made a noise of disgust. "Where's the fun in that?" He grunted, now on the bench press.

"You get to spill all your secrets to me, and I'll have the privilege of telling them to everyone. How's that sound?" Cara answered with sarcasm.

"Fucking fantastic," Clint breathed, his irritation starting to show through.

"No there's a trooper!" Cara clapped her hands, enjoying this already. "Alright, game on."

"Favorite place to eat?"

"Shawarma's," with a grunt.

"I went there last night with Buzz, it was great."

"Who?"

"Tony, for your uneducated ears," Cara sighed. "Favorite place in New York?"

"Avengers Tower."

"That's sweet. Favorite place to get it on?"

"Wha--" Cara let out a burst of laughter as she watched him practically drop the barbell on his chest, his eyes wide with surprise. When he managed to put it back on the rack behind him, he sat up and glared at her. "What the fuck kind of question was that?"

"Just making small talk, Katnip," she winked playfully, and walked out of the gym.

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