A/N: I don't own Marvel characters, or EA Games. Everything these days is owned by one of like 5 giant parent companies, and I am not one of them.

When it came right down to it, Clint thought, the god of thunder was pretty needy. He couldn't blame the guy, he supposed. Here he was, in a new realm where he didn't know anybody except for Jane and his teammates, and none of them really had time in their busy lives to hang out. Jane was always out of town. Apparently discovering an alien god was enough of a break through in the astrophysics world that it kept her in too much work to actually go on dates with said alien god.

Banner and Stark were always in Tony's lab, pretending to be boring. Clint knew from the grins and the stories and the singed off eyebrows that it was all explosions and mad scientist mythbusters shit and home distilled alcohol, but the last time he dropped by for a visit they smiled at him and showed him slides of cell growth patterns in response to varying levels of gamma radiation with control groups accounting for something or other, and it was all as dry as any high school science class, except with two post-child-prodigies for teachers. And he had the sense they were grinning at each other behind their best Ben Stein impressions as they lectured on mitochondrial DNA. As soon as he'd left he'd heard them giggling. Whatever project they were working on, it was clear they didn't want company, his or Thor's.

Natasha was solitary by nature, and she knew how to discourage company. She would show up to hang out if someone brought booze, but otherwise her door was closed, her room was locked, and with all of Stark Tower at her disposal she moved rooms every three days. Old assassin instincts about sleeping in the same place for too long, Clint supposed.

Steve and Thor did hang out, and bonded over what Tony called "being from out of town". However, these meetings, while initially comforting to both had recently become just sad, after the millionth exchange of "Yeah, I don't get that either!" With no one with any actual data on 21st century Earth, their support group was not helpful at best, and a reminder of their isolation at worst.

The end result was that Thor spent a lot of time with Clint. A lot of time that Clint wanted to be alone, having Clint time.

"What's that?" Thor asked, pointing at Clint's computer. He'd let himself in to Clint's room, sat down in the only other chair, and started regaling him with more stories of Asgardian drinking buddies Clint would probably never meet and couldn't keep straight anyway.

"That?" Clint looked at the game he'd been loading when Thor had interrupted his quiet time, "That's the Sims 2. It's a game."

"Is it a game of skill at war and physical prowess?" Thor asked.

"No, it's just… It's to play god a bit. It's fun," Clint downplayed it.

"A game for gods, you say?" Thor bellowed. "I must try this Game of Gods!"

It was perfect. What better hobby to give Thor? It was quiet, nondisruptive, and the most engrossing, colossal waste of time there was. There was no end to the Sims, nothing to be accomplished, just the endless mundane lives of little pixel people. Clint could finally get some peace and time to himself.

"Okay, buddy, no problem. We'll just install it on your computer. Tony gave you a computer, right? Don't worry, I have all the expansions."

And hour and a half later (Stark tech was fast, but there were seriously like 20 expansion packs), Thor and Clint were sitting in the living room, everything was all installed, and Clint helped him load the game. It was a big time investment, but it would all be worth it when Thor was spending 12 hours a day playing the Sims, and Clint had time to himself. It would be educational, too, he told his conscience; Thor would learn about all sorts of Midgardian customs and items he'd been struggling with. Lawn gnomes, ceiling fans, kicky bag. Yes, he was definitely helpingThor out.

"Okay, big guy, it's all ready. I got everything installed, and even downloaded some special extras for you, ARC, and stuff like that."

"What are these extra specials? Is it the pleasing dipping sauce from the land of the golden arches?"

"No, that's just 'special sauce'. ARC is a fan developed program that lets your sims have more initiative in forming relationships and having casual sex," Clint explained.

"That sounds pleasing! As a benevolent god, I shall let my tiny subjects choose their own mates!"

"Um, yeah, it's kind of fun for that. I also took off the eight sims per household limit. I figure Stark's stuff is nice enough that your game won't lag. Pick a neighborhood and I'll show you how to make sims," Clint showed Thor the three base neighborhoods.

"None of these neighborhoods are as majestic as Asgard! I choose the middle one! The town of Strange! It looks much like the desert where I first laid eye on the Lady Jane," Thor boomed.

"Great. Anyone you make will fit in fine there," Clint loaded the Create-a-Family screen.

Thor began to play with the facial sliders, hair color buttons, wardrobe styles, and personality point spreads for his first sim.

"I control all, from the shap of their cheeks to the nature of their souls!" Thor bellowed excitedly. "What do these pictograms do?"

"Those? So all Sims have one of six different aspirations: family, popularity, fortune, romance, knowledge, or pleasure. They're meant to represent different types of people."

Thor stared blankly.

"For example, Bruce would be a classic knowledge sim. He spends all his time in the lab, he really likes discovering new things…"

"Would Tony Stark also be a knowledge sim, then? Or a fortune sim, because he has much wealth?"

"Um… he might be a knowledge sim, but I'd definitely say he has a pleasure secondary aspiration. Maybe pleasure aspiration with knowledge secondary."

"I think I begin to understand. So Steve Rogers would be a 'romance' sim, because he enjoys traditional midgardian romantic ballads, and the colorless tiny people in the box that Tony Stark calls 'chick flicks'."

"You'd think, but that's not exactly what a romance sim is… you know what? Sure. Steve's a romance sim. It's your game. Why not? I'll see you at dinner, Thor. Have fun," Clint hurried back to his room.