Natasha woke to a loud crash, cursing her luck and she dragged herself out of bed. Well, dragged wasn't really the word to describe what she did. She tumbled out of bed quickly, grabbing a gun from under her pillow and landing easily in a crouch on her feet when she hit the ground. Dragged would be the word for how she felt, being woken up before she had gotten her full night's rest. Just because she could be on alert immediately and function with little sleep didn't mean that she was happy about it.

She briefly wondered if this was all somehow Loki's fault. It was his house that she was staying in, after all. It would really stand to reason. Well, his and Darcy's… So it really stood to reason…

It had been a long time since the god had caused any trouble however and he never bothered her when she had Clint with her. He was a much easier target, after all. Plus, she and Loki had come to an accord a long time ago. Tentatively, she might even call them friends. She certainly wouldn't stay at the house of one of her enemies.

She moved into the hallway with her weapon at the ready. She heard another crash and her mind wandered to Clint, wondering if he was okay before she heard the sound of him swearing. She moved faster to the next room. Clint was a well trained agent, but part of her could never shake the feeling that he was actually just a halpless thing that needed her protection. Not that she told him that.

She burst into the room with her weapon already aimed, looking around the room. What she saw was… not the terror she was expecting.

Darcy was crouched down behind a couch barely visible. Clint was beside her, leaning over the top of the couch with his bow aimed. Darcy was armed with a vase, which she heaved at the wall shortly after Natasha entered the room, then the girl darted down behind her impromptu cover.

Natasha looked around, just to be sure, but there was nothing there…

"Did I get it?" Darcy's voice questioned.

"No, I still hear it buzzing," Clint answered.

"Well, do something! Aren't you supposed to be the best archer ever or something?"

"Don't make me point this thing at you!"

"What are you two doing?" Natasha demanded. She didn't have enough sleep to deal with this.

"There's a bee in the house," Clint reported calmly. He shot an arrow off to the side quickly then swore. "Missed it. Stupid thing is too small…"

She wished it was Loki that had caused the disturbance. At least she could shoot Loki. It wouldn't hurt him or anything, but at least she'd feel better. As it stood, she wouldn't shoot Darcy. The woman was a civilian and Natasha didn't harm innocent people when it could be helped. And the last time she shot Clint he complained about it for a month. Even if he deserved it, she did not want to deal with his whining.

"What the hell are you two doing?" She repeated, her voice hardened with irritation as she stared them down. Well, she stared at Clint. Darcy was still hiding behind the couch.

"I'm allergic to bees!" Darcy yelled.

"Loki!" Natasha yelled. "I'm about to commit double homicide!"

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the faint buzzing of a bee, that followed her words.

"Why must you make such a racket in the mornings?" Loki asked as he appeared in the center of the room. "I thought you would be the tolerable one."

"How could you sleep through this?" She asked as Clint released another arrow that found it's home in the wall.

"I have noise concealing spells on the walls of our room," Loki answered her. He turned to Clint. "Why are you wrecking my home?"

"There's a bee…" Darcy said from her hiding place, raising her head enough to tentatively peak out at him.

"How did you not hear them tearing up the living room, but you hear me calling your name?" Natasha demanded.

"I'm a god, I can always hear when my name is spoken by a human. It's akin to prayer," He answered nonchalantly. Loki then stalked over to the couch, Clint moving away, and reached down and lifted Darcy like she was a child, hands under her armpits. "Is there a reason you decided to let the archer destroy our home rather than waking me?"

Darcy looked at him nervously. "I panicked, okay!"

Loki sighed. A green light flashed in the corner along with a small popping sound. "There. It's dead. Are you happy now?"

"Yeah," Darcy sighed with relief and little bit of visible embarrassment.

"No," Clint grumbled. "Ouch!" He cried out when Natasha hit him on the back of the head. "What? I almost had it!"

Loki lowered his wife to the ground and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Now I expect you and the archer to clean up this mess by the time I wake up properly," He told her and headed back to bed.

"What? No way!" Clint objected. Natasha smacked him against the back of his head one more time. "And I expect breakfast," She added.

Clint looked like he would protest, but wilted quickly under the weight of her gaze. "Yes, ma'am…"

"Good boy," She said as she pat his cheek. "Hey, Loki? Got space in that soundproof room of yours?"

"What?" Clint cried again.

"Certainly," Loki answered.

Clint aimed his bow at Loki, but Darcy jumped on his back, pushing his hands down. "Are you crazy? She's already pissed at you!"

"He's sleeping with my wife!"

"And you're pointing a weapon at my husband!"

Natasha chose very deliberately to ignore the commotion that was going on behind her. "Why did we marry such children?"

"I blame the alcohol," Loki answered.

Natasha nodded. "I should kick the vodka."

"No, it's too late to quit now," Loki argued. "You'd have to realize what you've done."

Natasha got a few more hours of blessed sleep before she was awoken again. First with the soft sound of the door opening as Darcy tried to tiptoe into the room, then the dip in the bed as the woman climbed under the covers to cuddle with her husband. Natasha could have stayed, she knew. Neither Loki nor Darcy seemed bothered by her presence, but she'd had enough sleep and she was worried about what Clint would get into if he was left alone too long.

Being much quieter than Darcy, Natasha crept out of the room, closing the door behind her. She walked into the living room, stopping when she saw Clint holding out an ice cream sunday for her, covered in nuts and topped with a cherry. He was looking away from her, his expression between a blush and a pout. "You know I'm shit at cooking," He told her.

She smiled and shook her head as she took the bowl from his hands. "You really are," She agreed. He followed her as she went back to the guest room they were sharing. She allowed him to cuddle against her as she ate her ice cream. He deserved a small reward, she supposed.