A/N: Dedicated to Mish of the Order, whose favorite Avenger is Hawkeye. Enjoy!

The War Begins

Sergeant Barnes let instinct overtake his actions as he peered down the sight. Collective decades of Winter Soldier "training" sealed his face into an expressionless mask over the stock of his gun, darkening his eyes on all but the target as his gloved fingers slid into place by muscle memory. His shoulders rolled forward in anticipation of the recoil, his entire posture taking on a mechanical precision for the shot.

"Wow, you're good," noted Clint Barton from behind him. "I haven't even seen you fire a shot yet, and I know you're good."

Sergeant Barnes turned, letting the Nerf assault rifle drop onto his elbow—and once again, he was Bucky Barnes, face heating and turning pink at an unexpected compliment from a teammate.

"Th-thank you," Bucky somehow stammered out. He'd been working on expressing gratitude when he felt it—which was often, far more often, around Steve's friends. Thank yous were important, after all. And they made Steve grin like it was his birthday, which was fun to see.

Clint gave a firm nod, adding, "You're welcome." He kindly called no more attention to Bucky's reaction, opting instead to climb into position beside him on the edge of their pillow "nest" in the rafters.

"These are foam bullets, though," Clint remarked, sighting his own gun. "They're always gonna go a bit wide. Even mine do, and I keep these things in mint condition." As if to demonstrate, he fired through a doorway at a light switch in the common room and only clipped the edge of the casing.

Bucky nodded slowly, processing the skill of Clint's shot and the intention of his statement. There was no sign in Barton's expression of intensity or authority that would demand Bucky to obey. Actually, Clint looked like he'd forgotten he'd said anything at all. So it was advice.

Advice. Steve had explained this. Advice was like a command that you could decide not to follow, as long as you were gentle in saying no. Bucky wasn't quite sure what "gentle" looked like, but it seemed to mean "saying things like Steve"—which he wasn't good at yet, but no one got mad at him for it.

"I...like to sight it close," muttered Bucky. Clint turned to him with a look of mild surprise.

Bucky pulled his back up straighter. "I—it goes wide, but I still want to hit my target. So I'll be more careful. Sight it close."

Clint pursed his lips and nodded in consent, turning away. "Yeah, that makes sense," he agreed, and said no more on the subject.

Something like wind under a kite rushed up in Bucky's chest. I said no, he marveled, and he's not mad. He didn't yell at me or hit me. I said no, and he listened.

Bucky stared with saucer eyes at the Nerf gun in his lap and wondered if this was what pride felt like.

"Psst," hissed Clint. "Bogey at two o'clock."

Snapping back to reality, Bucky flattened himself on the cushions, glancing over the top of the pillow barrier as over the top of a trench. He wasn't quite sure why Clint was sneaking glances at him and grinning like he'd burst out laughing.

Dr. Banner appeared around the hall corner, his nose in some paperback book. Clint groaned audibly, but when Bucky turned to ask why he'd blown their cover, Clint had already laid down his weapons.

Dr. Bruce Banner paused in the hallway, then turned and squinted up through the gleam on his glasses. "What are you doing, Clint?" he asked, not without a chuckle in his voice.

Clint poked his head over the pillows. "Snipers' night in!" he grinned. "I made a nest."

With that, Bucky got to his knees and revealed his presence to the doctor.

Banner's eyes went wide, and he blinked mildly for a moment before asking in a careful tone, "Does Steve know...?"

"Nope," supplied Clint. "Barnes joined me all of his own volition."

Bucky felt a smirk tug at the corners of his lips. Yeah. I did.

"I d-don't have ta tell Stevie everything," retorted Bucky, slipping into a headstrong Brooklyn accent.

That earned a grin and a nod from the doctor. "Fair enough," he replied. "Well," he shrugged, turning to go, "I guess I'll leave you to it, then. Don't cause trouble, Bar—"

A foam bullet struck Bruce on the back of the head.

Clint hissed a curse word and took cover under the pillows. Bucky's eyes went wide, checking to see if he'd accidentally fired.

He'd heard about the big green rage monster. Oh, Steve would kill him for sure if he unleashed that thing in the Tower...

Bruce, who'd been standing motionless, reached up to rub the back of his head. He stiffly turned around and seemed to catch sight of Bucky's terror-struck expression.

Any rigidity melted from the doctor's posture. He stooped down to pick up the bullet from the floor and held it up to Bucky. "Accident?" he asked.

Bucky just stared.

"Hey, I'm fine," smiled Bruce, spreading his hands in a peacemaking gesture. "I'm fine. It's just foam."

Bucky nodded stiffly.

Bruce pocketed the bullet and picked up his book. "I'll be going now," he said, adding a slight nod of goodwill. "Keep Barton on a short leash."

As his footsteps receded down the hallway, Clint let a long breath out into the pillows. "Safe," he whispered.

"Barton, I'm warning you now," Bruce announced with a tone that made Clint jump, "if you shot me in the head hoping to shift it onto James, you might not have to deal with the Other Guy—but you will have to face Steve."

Clint paled and then gave a boisterous laugh, as if to cover it up.

Bucky felt himself roll his eyes.

Clint's bout of laughter wore off lamely, and he wouldn't look Bucky in the eye. "That Bruce, y'know," he said, scratching awkwardly behind his ear. "He's—he's a jokester."

Bucky gave him the Winter Soldier Death Glare #3. He might still have been learning about communicating with others again, but he wasn't blind.

"Okay, yeah, I know," muttered Clint. "Sorry."

With that, Bucky couldn't be quite so mad at Clint. Steve might not have called it a sincere apology, but any apology was still a new experience for Bucky. It felt like respect. It felt good.

"Did you do it?" asked Bucky.

Clint shot him a wary look from where he lounged on his back against the pillows. "Do what?" he echoed.

Bucky tipped his head toward the hallway below. "Shoot him," he clarified.

Clint opened his mouth and stared at an undefined spot on the ceiling, starting to knock the sides of his feet together. "Ahh, maybe..."

Bucky narrowed his eyes. In lieu of a comeback, he swung the rifle around in a flash and shot Barton square in the chest.

"Ow!" cried Barton, but he was already laughing. He whipped out a bulky orange handgun and shot Bucky in the flesh arm.

A momentary sting zapped through Bucky's skin, and just as quickly, it was gone. He shot Barton again.

"Ah! Shh, shh!" hissed Clint, crouching on the pillows. "Stop it!"

For a moment, Bucky thought that Clint might be bluffing, until he heard footsteps and an unguarded voice in the adjacent hall.

"Yeah, Pep, I did get out of the lab," drawled Tony Stark. "I'm out of the lab right now. Was when you called. Well, within a margin of a few minutes, give or take—no, I swear, I have."

As Tony appeared around the bend, completely unawares, both Clint and Bucky flattened themselves on the "nest". Bucky couldn't be sure whether he was sensing the tense energy and glee off of Clint, or feeling it himself.

"Hokkaido, huh?" echoed Tony to something Pepper said. "Sounds a bit by-the-numbers, haven't been—nah, you want to go, I'll get reservations. I can reserve the whole restaurant if—what? Aw, fine."

Bucky could hardly believe it when Tony paused in clear shot from the "nest", staring back down the hall from which he came.

"Now?" Bucky mouthed to Clint.

Clint shook his head, grinning like a child.

"Whatever you want, Pep. Carry-out it is, then. All right. I'll see you in two. Yeah. Love you too. Yeah. Bye."

Tony pulled the StarkPhone down from his ear and pressed "end call."

"Now!" Clint mouthed.

Both snipers leaped up from their positions, assaulting Tony Stark with the crack of guns and a rain of foam bullets. Tony gave a loud yell less of pain than surprise, hissed a curse as a missile struck his cheek, and shouted, "Damn it, Clint!"

Clint gave an uproarious laugh as Tony dove for the couches in the common room. Bucky continued to land single shots into Tony's back as he fled.

Tony ripped a pillow off of a nearby couch and hurled it blindly at the nest. Clint just barely dodged it.

"Your aim sucks, Stark!" roared Clint, then turned and got a face-full of throw pillow.

"Ya wanna say that again?!" gloated Tony, scooping that same pillow off the floor.

Bucky, who'd taken cover, sprang up and landed a shot in Tony's arm.

"Ow!" hissed Tony. Then his eyes widened. "Oh god help us, you've got the Soldier?"

Now it was Clint's turn to spring up, guns leveled. "Surrender, Stark, and you may live! Maybe," grinned Clint.

Tony dropped the pillow, raising his hands. "Truce! Mercy! Uncle! Whatever," he rattled off.

Bucky's tense posture slowly became more of a playful show than instinct. "Terms of surrender," he muttered to Clint, his gun still trained on Stark.

"Free tickets to The Force Awakens," smirked Clint. "And two thousand bucks."

"Sure, you—what?!" protested Tony. He slung a throw pillow into Clint.

"What is this?" cried Tony as Clint laughed. "This is highway robbery! In my tower! And why didn't my wonderful AI alert me that I was about to get ambushed in my own home?"

"I'm afraid, Sir, that they had me sworn to secrecy," piped up JARVIS, sounding anything but regretful.

Tony's hand flew to his chest as he gasped. "Betrayed by my own AI!" he said with a dramatic choke. "That's it. This is war!"

He stomped off the way he came, apparently going back to the lab.

Meanwhile, Clint fell over laughing, choking on his own breath as he held his sides.

Bucky peered out where Tony had left. "D-does he have...Nerf...guns too?" The brand name sounded clumsy on his tongue.

"Hell yeah he does," grinned Clint. "That was glorious," he muttered, still laughing. "And this'll be better. I want to get Cap."

Suddenly, the opportunity to pelt Steve Rogers with harmless little foam bullets seemed like the best thing that happened to Bucky all week.

A/N: Stay tuned for Part 2! Reviews are pillows in my pillow nest.