Wildchild *book one*

Don't you dare say scrabble

Nat's p.o.v
Everyone had gone upstairs to their rooms to change, including me. But after I changed, instead of going downstairs to join the others, I started talking to Jarvis.
"Hey, Jarvis, does Carson stay with Tony often?"
"Yes she does, Mr Stark is rather fond of her,"
"So if Carson was being mistreated in any way, would Tony want to know?"
"I believe he would, he can get a little bit overprotective of her sometimes,"
"And what about you?"
"I care very much for her wellbeing miss Romanoff, where, may I ask, are you going with this?"
"I was wondering, has Carson ever shown up here with injuries?"
"She fell over and twisted her ankle once on the stairs,"
I was about to ask another question, but then I realised. Carson had proven she could easily hack into Jarvis and it was clear that she didn't want us to know what was going on. She had higher authorization than me here, thanks to Stark, her commands matter more than mine. There's no way she hasn't prevented Jarvis from informing anyone of any injuries caused by her mother. I could try for loopholes, but Carson was smart. If I kept looking this way, it would be days, or even weeks, before I found a loophole and Carson was going back on Sunday. I had to find a new tactic. And I would. I may not know Carson well, but I can see how much she deserves better. I feel protective over her. I care about her. So I would protect her. She was safe here; so she would stay here.
"Thank you Jarvis, now I probably should get downstairs for that pajama party,"

Carson p.o.v
Everyone was here and we were currently arguing about what to play.
"Come on, 'who wants to be a millionaire' is a great game," Tony insisted.
"No its not," me and Steve replied in sync. I'm doing it with everybody today.
"I thought that was our thing," Clint said, pouting.
"I'll buy you an ice cream," I said.
"Deal," he said, satisfied.
"How about we let Carson make a list of games?" Bruce requested, most likely sick of our arguing. Everyone glanced at each other and nodded in agreement.
"OK then, how about: jenga, monopoly and...,"
"Don't you dare say scrabble," said Nat. Guess she hates scrabble.
"...guess who," I finished. "I hate scrabble, like hell I'm picking it,"
"Good," she said, nodding.
"Oh, I am so gonna kick your a...," Clint started.
"Language!" Cried Steve, indicating the seven year old, a.k.a, me.
"...butts, I was gonna say butts," he finished, uncertaintly.
"Sure you were," Tony said, sarcasm clearly dripping from his tone. Clint and Steve glared.
"How about we play instead of starting a civil war (ha ha get it!)," I said, grabbing the game from the cupboard in the corner. The team nodded.
"Oh and by the way, I'm totally gonna kick your butts,"
I was right of course, I have a strategy for this and Bruce seemed to figure one out rather quickly. Steve was out round one, Tony round two, Clint round three, Bruce round four and Nat lost spectacularly to me, round five. Bruce had been stupid enough to start a bet with me and was now handing me 10 bucks. Ha, sucker, I mean, bad luck guys. At least now I can buy Clint's ice cream.
Next was monopoly, which in hindsight, I probably should have thought through. The Avengers are very competitive, which explains the hatred of scrabble here. When Bruce won, Nat and Tony chased him around the room. Ok, so I may have joined in, but in my defence I get it from Tony, honest. I also yelled a bit, but so did Clint. I'm just following examples set by a team of superheroes.
Finally we played guess who, it was very close to be honest. Clint won this one, leaving Nat, Steve and Tony very disgruntled. Captain America is a very sore loser.
"IT, we're watching IT," Tony said, defiantly. Yes, he meant the horror movie, not gonna happen.
"Tony, Carson is seven, she's to young," Steve reminded him, but Tony is stubborn.
"Age is just a number," Tony insisted.
"Then why won't you let me tell people your actual age?" I asked, smirking. Tony grumbled a little and backed down.
"Can we watch jumanji(the old one), please?" I asked, I loved that film. Steve shrugged.
"As long as it's age appropriate, I refuse to send you home tomorrow and have you tell your mother all about an inappropriate film we let you watch," he said. "You'd never get to stay over again,"
"Don't worry, jumanji is fine, Jarvis," Tony called.
"Wait, we have no snacks, or popcorn, I'm not watching a movie without popcorn," Clint said.
"Me neither," I said, we couldn't watch a film without popcorn, it was practically illegal. We all rushed to the kitchen.
Since me and Clint were in the fort together and probably wouldn't want to get up for snacks, we filled our own personal bowls. One full of popcorn, another full of crisps and one more full of various chocolates we found.
And that's how Happy found us in the morning, when he walked in, Tony and Bruce, sleeping at opposite sides of a couch, Nat curled up on an armchair,  Steve sprawled on another couch and me and Clint, sleeping on the floor, identical mischievous grins on our faces. We may or may not have drawn moustaches, beards and unibrows on the team.
Yeah, let's just say, Happy had a pretty interesting morning.