The music was pulsing as Natasha Romanoff pushed through the sweating bodys. Typically, the only reason she would set foot in this type of establishment would be for a mission, ad she still was, only this one didn't require seduction or murdering of any sort. It was a much more domestic mission, as she was after a girl named Nicholette.

Nicholette Barton. Sister to the famous Clint Barton.

The redhead soon came upon her target, who was waving her arms wildly as she yelled at a man. The situation seemed quite comedic. After all Nicholette was only 5'4, weighing in at about 105, and the man she was currently yelling at towered over her at what Natasha guesses was 6'4, and approximately 250 pounds. It seemed like a match-up from a rigged boxing tournament.

Pushing through the last of the bodies, Natasha put her hand on the young girl's shoulder, and gained her attention.

"Natasha! Ma'be you can help me out!" Nicholette yelled over the booming speakers, the spy just nodded. "This turd-blossom was grinding up on some ot'er hoe, although s'e may be a really nice 'erson, right now she 'ust a 'oe!" the girl slurred. Natasha took in the girls current state, and imagined how Clint was going to react. Her eyes were so dilated that you could barely see her sea-blue iris, and a thin layer of sweat could be seen on her pale skin, which she was showing alot of. Her leather shorts could have passed in Victoria's Secret as panties, and her shirt had so many cut outs in it, that Banner may have worn it when he got angry.

"Darling, lets get you out of here." Natasha was easily able to steer the girl away from the impending fight, as she struggled the keep the Barton upright. After making her way back through the sea of sex-dancing, Natasha finally got Nicholette out of the door.

"What the hell Nicki?" Clint angrily stepped out of the driver's seat of a car. The blonde man took in his sisters state, much like Natasha. Wide eyes, sweaty pale skin, skimpy clothes, tangled hair, smudged makeup, and clutching on Natasha for dear life. "Your drunk, of course."

"As ma skunk. M'hat 're you doin' 'ere?"she slurred her words as Clint opened the back door for Natasha to help the girl into the car.

"You called me."

"'hy would I do 'at?" After shutting the car door, the archer turned to the spy.

"Are we really going to take her to the base now?"

"It's not like we have any where else to take her. At least she called you." The archer only sighed.

When Clint walked into the new Avenger's base, the team was lounging in the living area. That is, some of the team. Tony and Bruce were stowed away in the lab, hopefully not working on another Ultron, and Thor was most likely on Asgard at the moment. So the only once who were in the living area was Steve, Pietro, and Wanda. They were all currently trying to change the television off of the movie screen. Rogers could have probably gotten it, if only Tony hadn't insisted on having the most complicated tech in the world.

"Hey Clint. Think you can figure this out?" Steve turned and greeted the archer. Picking up the remote, he pressed a few buttons, turning the news on.

"So anyhow, I have a huge favor to ask of you guys." Clint clapped his hands together, and stared at his co-workers.

"What do you need old man? Pietro's thick accent questioned. He stretched his legs out onto the coffee table, Wanda curling up next to him. Steve stood to receive Clint's request.

"So my sister is outside, but she's kinda white-girl-wasted. She's very grabby and loose so I'm gonna bring her in through here, and get her to bed."

"And where is this 'favor'?" Wanda glanced up from her book.

"Be on your best behavior, please? I promise you won't have to talk to her drunk ass for more than a minute." Receiving nods from the group, Cint yelled for Natasha. The redhead came in, carrying the blonde girl upright. Pietro looked over the couch, and caught the slight of the wild curls that tumbled down her back and over her shoulders.

"'m telling you 'at, he was 'uch 'n ass." Natasha just nodded her head, attempting to carry the girl across the room, but her drunkenness plus her sky high heels were making Nicholette very dependent on Natasha. Dilated eyes moved around the room as they came across Steve, who frankly looked concerned for the stumbling girl. "but he's a 'ot p'ce o' ass."

"Nicki, lets just get you to bed." Clint moved to take his sister from Nat, but she looked at him and said,

"'ow 'bout the 'ath'oom cause 'm gonn' be sick." Nicki looked at Clint, who seemed lost at what to do. Meanwhile, Clint sent a begging look at Pietro. The speedster sighed, and was gone by the time everyone had blinked, as was Nicholette. Clint winked at everyone and with the wave of his hand he left the room, in search of Pietro and Nicki.

Upon arriving in the the bathroom, he saw Nicki bent over the toilet, kneeling on the tile floor. Pietro was hovering over top of her, his hand tangled in her hair, holding it back. Clint walked into the spacious room, and helped Nicki stand once she was finished vomiting. Walking out of the bathroom, he dumped the girl onto the bed that was located on the edge of the room, tossing the blanket over the girl. Leaving the room and shutting the door, Clint turned to the Slovakian.

"Thanks for that."

"So thats your sister?"

"Shutup man."

Hey Nerds. So this is just an idea that popped itself into my head, and I thought someone may enjoy this. I adore Pietro and he is under no circumstance dead. So please let me know what you think!

-Out