"Gah! Tony! what is this?" Steve spit the coffee back into his mug as he almost fell off of his barstool. Natasha was staring at him, eyes wide, one hand on her hip as if she had reached for a gun - which, thankfully, she did not have, still being in her pjs.
"Uh, coffee, Steve, or haven't we talked about modern day beverages?" the snarky billionaire raised one eyebrow above his reading glasses as he looked up from his tablet.
"This is in no way coffee. it tastes like, like, a pumpkin pie." Natasha visibly blanched as she slid off of the barstool and made her way to the coffee machine.
"Steve, " Natasha said as she turned to glare Tony, "Needs his own, low tech, coffee maker so he will not drink my Pumpkin spice frappuccino any more. This is the third time, Steve, that you have drunk my god damn coffee."
Tony sat up straight, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Yes Ma'am. right away. ordering a new, simplistic, coffee machine for poor, poor Steve." Steve turned a little red, and seemed to be having trouble figuring out what to say.
"I'm so sorry, Nat, I-"
Natasha pulled herself swiftly onto the island counter. "Don't you DARE 'Nat' me, Steven Rogers. don't you dare." she was quite intimidating, even crouching on the kitchen counter in her black silk camisole and matching shorts.
"Yes Ma'am." Steve quickly snapped into military attention, in an attempt to subdue the angry widow. She stood on the counter, then flipped down and landed in front of him.
"If you end up wasting all of my very limited supply of Pumpkin spice frappuccino K cups, I will use you for target practice. No matter where we are. you will have to watch your back at all times, Cap, because I will not let you sleep ever again if you make any more of MY coffee because you can not remember how to use the damned coffee machine. do you understand me, Steve? do you understand that I can and will kill you if you touch my coffee again?" she was circling him, the tiny spider circling the american giant, and she was scary as it gets.
"Yes ma'am." Steve was still as stone, but his eyes were wide. "Directives understood."
"Good, Spangles, She said, Venom leaking into her voice, now go wake up Clint." With a quick salute, Steve turned crisply on his heel and walked, brisk but paced, towards the Hawk's bedroom.
"Come, on, Clint, wake up. Now!"
Clint was awake instantly, training kicking in at the sound of the despair in the good captain's' voice.
"Jeez louise, Cap, What's wrong?" He sat up and tossed off the covers, looking at the flustered capitan.
"Miss romanoff is, well, Mad. at me. And she told me to wake you up. so I did." Clint stood up and headed towards the bathroom.
"Yeah? well,It can t be too bad. She wouldn t kill a team member, but you are probably stuck doing whatever she says to do for a while. What did you do?"
"Are there any exceptions to her rule of not killing a team member?" Steve stood at the door of the bathroom as the sharpshooter prepared his toothbrush.
"Yeah, but only if you drink her coffee - but she has shit taste in coffee, So there is no way anyone would ever do that." "Right?" Clint added as an afterthought, then looked at Steve, just in time to see him sink not-so-gently to the floor.
"well, shit," Clint said, setting his toothbrush down and stepping nimbly over the Capitans' prone form.
"Hope her coffee didn't kill him."