"YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT YOU KIDNAPPED ME TO FIGHT WITH CAPTAIN AMERICA AGAINST IRON MAN? NO WAY."
In which Alison Marnell deals with the casual life of a superhero while also trying to balance homework, tests, and the regular plights of high school...
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"There's a lot of explaining to do."
Barton Farm, Thanksgiving Day 2016-
"Uncle?" Christa screeched, her eyes darting between Alison and Clint. Her sight eventually landed on the arrow still grasped in Alison's hand, the flustered girl watching her potential cousin carefully set the weapon down.
"Don't blame me." Alison shrugged, her look of nonchalance making Christa even more flustered. "I just found out myself. Maybe three hours ago?" She offered, shrugging again.
"B-b-But How?" The adopted Barton chokes out, unable to find the words to say anything else. "H-how are you his niece when Clint's explicitly told us that-"
"Christa." Clint looked at his adopted daughter, sending her a warning with his stare. His bow had been carelessly thrown on the sofa, left there with his quiver after the man had realized that Alison wasn't a threat. "Why don't you get ready for dinner? Laura's family is coming over, and the kids need help with not looking like a circus when they do."
Christa nodded, silently gulping as she stood up from her seat at the table, waving goodbye to Alison, mouthing a "good luck" to the girl. She trudged past her adopted father, who patted her back as she began to walk up the stairs. The girl was out of sight within seconds, already yelling at the rest of the Barton siblings to get ready.
Making sure that his daughter was upstairs, Clint shook his head, shuffling over to the kitchen. He swiped his purple coffee mug off the dry rack, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the coffee pot that was still warm on the stove. "So," The man took a sip of his coffee, looking straight at Alison. "You have some explaining to do."
Alison stared straight back at Clint, keeping her nerves calm and her stare one of steel. "I think you have a lot more to explain than I do, Uncle." The girl retorted, her words laced with a hint of venom. She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.
The Avenger's face fell with her last words, trying to mask his expression by wiping his face to get rid of the coffee mustache on his face. "And I thought one teenager was enough for me." He muttered, shaking his head as he looked at Alison once again. "Take a seat on the sofa." Clint gestured over to the sofa where his bow still laid. "Seat's open."
Alison looked at Clint with a strange expression, trying to process what he was going to do before her eyes landed on the sofa, seeing the bow still there. "You sure you're not going to shoot me again?"
Clint answered her question with another stare, taking a gradual sip of his coffee as his stare told Alison exactly what she needed to know. "Sit down." He said, holding his cup of coffee with a light touch. "You're not getting out of this."
Giving one last look of annoyance at Clint, Alison stood up from her seat at the dining room table, walking carefully over to the sofa. Alison sat down on the left side of the sofa, tucking her dress underneath her as she sat, her eyes watching Clint to see when he would walk over.
