Based off a Pinterest dialogue prompt from shareasimage .com :

"What's wrong with your hand?" "Oh, it's just starting to cramp up. It happens when I don't give myself a break in between stabs."

Clint has a very weird life. He knows this.

So when he comes downstairs to find Bucky Barnes on his couch with Kate, both of them eating McDonalds, he shrugs and swoops in to get in on some of that fry action.

Kate vigorously defends her potatoes, but Clint isn't very surprised to find that Bucky is much more willing to concede his food.

"Ew, why are you watching Kitten Criminals?"
He asks, crinkling his nose.

"Dog Cops wasn't on."

Kate sulks, and Barnes also looks distinctly unhappy. Clint perks up.

"Hey, Tony was here the other day, and he installed MarioKart!"

Clint sits up. He points to Bucky, narrowing his eyes at the assassin and his prodigy.

"Goin' down. Going down."

He points to each of them in succession, then hops off his purple couch and goes to turn on the Wii.

They're in the middle of Rainbow Road when someone knocks on his door.

Clint drops his remote, wide-eyed. Kate and Bucky rise to attention as well, and as Clint looks out the dingy little peephole, he sees a couple members of the Tracksuit Mafia lurking outside, being generally menacing and Russian.

"Tracksuits."

He mouths, and Kate takes a running leap to hide under the coffee table.

Clint steels himself, holding onto the faint hope that sometime there will be tracksuits at his door for something other than murder.

"Can I help you, bro?"

Clint leans out the door, wishing he'd remembered to put on something other than his purple knee-high socks and Hawkeye boxers.

The tracksuit in front of the door scoffs, pulling at a nasty-looking scar on his lip. Seriously, could he be more cliche?"

"Yeah, bro. Return the building or-"

The tracksuit cuts off, his buddy nudging his shoulder urgently.

"Is that the Winter Soldier?!"

He squeaks instead, and, sure enough, Barnes hadn't gotten off the couch when Kate did, and he was just sort of sedately sitting there, holding a knife.

"Hmm. Guess so."

Clint shrugged. He could see one of Katie's sneakers sticking out from behind the couch. Bucky was rubbing his flesh hand with his metal one, looking innocent as possible with a bun in his hair and a stupid ironic Captain America t-shirt. The knife is still in the flesh one, glinting dangerously in the sunlight.

"Bro."

One of the tracksuits stutters out, getting a look at the red star on Bucky's arm.

"Bro. What's wrong with your hand?!"

"Oh, nothing."

Bucky nods, calm as can be.

"Oh, it's just starting to cramp up. It happens when I don't give myself a break between stabs."

Clint nods sympathetically, leaning on the doorway the tracksuits are now leaning away from.

"I know that feel, bro."

Kate's sneaker twitches behind the couch, and the tracksuits notice this at the same time Clint does.

"Oh, hell no."

One tracksuit grinds out, and they begin a retreat as Simone across the hall glares at them.

"We don't really want the building, bro. Consider it a gift between us."

Then the tracksuits flee, and Clint closes the door just as Kate sits up, her hair a little frazzled and wearing a scowl.

"Awwh, I wanted to scare them by coming back to life."

She whines, and Bucky pats her shoulder, knife disappearing back to wherever it came from.

"Dude."

Clint says.

"Stay forever."

Bucky laughs, playing with the little van from his Happy Meal.

"Sure."

He shrugs.

"But who were those guys?"