A/N: I own nothing, obviously. For those reading my other stories they're haven't been abandoned I Just had this on my computer and thought i might as well post it.

This takes place in the same verse as my Batman/Avengers crossover althought no Batmna in this one. Clint is younger than portrayed in the film (about 20) and is a mix of comics Clint, movie Clint and my head cannons. Constructive cristicism is welcome.

Moving In

Tony was a man on a mission. He strode through the helicarrier with his best 'I am allowed to be here' face on. He peered down halls and into rooms until he found what he was looking for. Ok so maybe he hadn't just found it by himself, maybe he had had to ask a couple of people where the agent's barracks were. But, whatever he had found them now. The long hall which had been behind a door marked 'junior agents, male' with a key card accessed lock system which he was able to override was lined with doors all bearing a name plaque. Or rather a slot with a card inserted with the occupants name on. He wasn't sure what exactly he had expected, a frat house type of vibe maybe or at least the sounds of goofing off and video games in the air. But not this, it was sterile while still managing to look somewhat dingy in the fluorescent light given off overhead. Nothing like the parts of the carrier open to the team, officially that is. He scanned the doors for the name he was looking for and found it. It seemed strange to the billionaire that the door didn't give the occupants full name just the last and a number. He knocked hoping that the nameless agent whom he had asked where he could find Barton had been right and the kid was hiding out in his room. The door opened within seconds.

Hearing the footsteps outside his door he hadn't thought it would be anyone coming to see him so the knock at his door surprised him somewhat. He was quick to answer thinking it might be another spot check from psych to check he hadn't slit his wrists or something since they let him out of medical. He was feeling guilty and like complete shit but, seriously there were better ways to go. If he got that low he'd get himself killed in the field. When the opened door revealed not one of the docs but Tony Stark, Clint was struck dumb for a second. What the hell did Stark want? Was he lost and just saw a name he recognised on the door? "Uh, can I help you Mr. Stark?"

"Mr. stark? Please Clint call me Tony." He pushed his way past the sniper and into his room looking over everything with a critical eye. The room was about the size of a cell and completely devoid of any personality. Tony noticed the bunk beds, "they make you share this hovel?" Clint nodded silently, tracking the man's movements about the small room.

"Yeah but my roommate moved out. Said it was nothing personal but he didn't feel safe sharing with me in case Loki was still running loose up here." Clint said tapping the side of his head. "Well at least I get the top bunk now. And he snored anyway." The younger man shrugged forcing a smile he didn't feel onto his face. He really just wanted to be alone. Stark continued inspecting his quarters, he even looked under the bed and stuck his head in the small closet. The nosy bastard.

Tony shook his head at the state of the room before turning to a bewildered Barton who still stood by the door. "No. This just won't do at all. Although it does make what I've come to ask a little easier." Barton made a huh noise and wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. "Oh right yeah sorry. I came to ask well; uh... the tower is still under renovation after the battle, so I'm living in one of my other properties it was my mom's originally actually and."

Clint held up a hand to stop the man's rambling. "Just get to the point Stark."

"Yeah, right. So, Bruce moved in a few days ago and capsicle is moving his stuff into his room as we speak, I emailed Nat since she's off being a spy and a truck with female paraphernalia and guns pulled up outside the house this morning so... it gonna take you long to pack?"

"What?" Clint sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, he was pretty sure Stark was giving him a migraine.

"Wasn't I clear? I said do you want to move in with me?"

"I'm sorry Stark, but I'm not that kind of girl. It takes at least three dates and two bottles of vodka to take me home." Clint said laughing as he leaned against the open doorway.

"You know what I meant smartass. Move in with me and the team. You're obviously not happy here and I'm pretty sure this" he waved his hand to encompass the small room "violates several human rights laws anyway. The house has got plenty of room, so no sharing. And I can offer you a free bar and TV facilities. Also no Fury." He spread his arms wide as if that should be case closed. Clint thought about the offer for less than a minute. Sure, Stark was annoying but the other guys were ok from what he'd seen and if it meant he wouldn't have to sit alone in the cafeteria like some high school reject - not that he'd know what they looked like apart from what he had seen on TV – while everyone shpt him dirty looks and whispered about him. Also he bet that Stark's kitchen would be pretty well stocked. No more meatloaf roulette.

Clint sighed as if heavily put upon. "Fine, but only coz we need to bond and shit. You better have cable, I ain't missing Dog Cops."