Ok guys. I sincerely apologize for the lateness of my other fic, but I have hit the biggest writer's block wall in the universe. Part of the problem was that I kept trying to write this in, but it didn't fit anywhere, but the plot bunnies demanded that it be written. So a very cracky one shot for you. Don't judge me for this.
Clint and Tony stared at each other. They stood a few feet apart, not moving, not blinking, arms held loosely by their sides. A bead of sweat slipped down Tony's forehead. They yearned for the only things that could help them now, just a few inches away from each of their twitching fingers. Steve stood between and a little ways back from the ferocious battle that was about to ensue. One good shot was all it was going to take. One good shot to bring the enemy low.
Steve cleared his throat. "One."
"Two."
"Three." A vein pulsed in Clint's jaw.
"Four."
"Five."
"Six."
"Seven."
"Eight."
"Nine." Tony fluttered his fingers.
"Ten."
"Eleven." Two pair of eyes—one blue, and one brown—narrowed. They both took deep breaths.
Steve paused, looked between them both, then shouted "TWELVE!" and tossed the small plastic ball in the air above the table between them. The men both grabbed the rubber coated paddles in front of them and began to whack the small ball back and forth between them with an outrageous zeal that rivaled how they fought in real battles. This game they had dubbed 'Ultimate Ping-Pong,' had been going on for about an hour and a half. Apparently, normal Ping-Pong was too tame for the superheroes. Therefore, all further games must be duel-style, with the first one to score a point being the victor. Clint had apparently watched too many gunslinger movies when he was a kid, and decided that an Old Western, high-noon duel was the perfect solution.
Natasha thought it was ridiculous. From her vantage point on cables suspended from the high ceiling, she went through her dexterity exercises once more. The men, no, boys below her were too evenly matched to declare a true winner, but they insisted on seeing who could be the "Ultimate Ultimate-Ping-Pong Champion!" Tony's words. Not hers. She was just glad that Thor had taken Jane out to eat tonight, or it would be an all-night Round Robin tournament. The blond god would probably take Tony's and Clint's trash talk as personal insults, and declare an Ultimate Ping-Pong war. She shuddered at the thought. As it was, she could see a long night ahead.
After a while she descended and unclipped the carabineers from her belt. There was really only so many times that she could do that set of exercises in one night. Clint let out a cry of jubilation as Tony missed the small white projectile by millimeters, making Clint the winner of that round. "And Hawkeye defeats the Iron Man once again! Hey Tash," Clint called, "Why don't you join us? Give me some real competition." Tony glowered, and flopped down onto the couch nearby with a huff. Such a two-year old.
Natasha sighed and picked up Tony's abandoned paddle. Well, you know what they say. When in Avengers Tower, do as the idiots do. Or something like that.
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You Know You Wanna Be Kate