Disclaimer: I have nor own anything to do with Marvel except to occasionally borrow their marvelous characters
"Something's wrong with Clint." He stated out of the blue as he plopped down beside me on the couch. I did not put my book down, nor acknowledge his presence in any way, so he continued on like I knew he would. "I mean seriously, did he get laid last night or something? I've been telling him it would improve his attitude for months, but lord if it makes him this happy I want who he's got."
"Clint being happy is wrong?" I finally responded, still without looking up.
"Well, yeah. I mean, wrong as in weird. Never seen the guy whistle in the year since I've known him! Now he's making breakfast! Unless he's on like the best fucking drugs known to man."
Sighing in defeat, as he clearly wasn't going away until he got a proper response, I set my book aside and looked up at him with a blank face.
"So let me get this straight. You came to bug me, in my room, to tell me that Clint is cooking breakfast, because you think it's weird."
Stark fidgeted for a moment before drawing himself up and stating, "Yes, yes I did. This is Clint fucking 'Hawkeye' Barton we're talking about. You sure he didn't get laid?"
"What's with this obsession of his sex life? You wanting some?" I snarked, not failing to hide a smile at the look of disgust that crossed his face.
"Uh, no. Not in any lifetime, planet, or world, for that matter. Besides, he's not my type."
"You have a male type? Does Pepper know?" I egged him on, now feeling quite vengeful as he still hadn't taken the hint and left yet.
Stark clearly realized I'd taken the conversation out of his grasp, and steered it back quickly, "The only type I have is my lovely lady, and you never answered my question."
"You that desperate to know if he got laid?" I demanded.
"No! The other question." He snapped, now getting to his feet and clearly losing his patience, what little of it there was.
"You never asked another question." I pointed out, picking my book back up and quickly finding my place again.
I could hear his teeth gnashing and contemplated for a moment on cementing his jaw together for a nice effect, before he burst out, "Why is Clint so happy today?"
"You ever thought about, oh I don't know, asking him?" I demanded.
He did not respond, so praying it would finally get him to leave I answered, "Clint has been cooking breakfast for the team for six months now, he's always done it because he enjoys cooking. It relaxes him. This is just the one time you got up early enough to witness it. Are you done now?"
He must have finally noticed the hint of violence creeping into my voice, because there was no response as he finally exited my room, and I again found my comfortable spot and continued on my reading.
I plan on having each and every one of them interact with each other individually, so if my math's right that would be fifteen chapters, but my math sucks so I might be missing something. This is not counting Pepper chapters. If you guys would like me to include Pepper chapters, let me know.