A/N: Many thanks to ladygris and Lady Pandora for the Beta work. Enjoy!

Namaste,

Sunny

Avengers

Hammer Time

Chapter 3

Avenger HQ

Stark Tower

Manhattan

The After Party

Most of the party guests were gone. Only the Avengers, official and otherwise, had stayed behind to talk, get drunk, and poke fun at those who left early and sober. Sitting on the floor next to Hill, Clint twirled a pair of drumsticks he started carrying around to practice whenever he had a few minutes; he'd recently started teaching Cooper to play the drums. He was the first to say he shouldn't be drinking so soon after being shot, but dammit, he wanted a beer. Several, in fact. And he deserved it. However, he'd overdone it and now he had the most delightful buzz going on. Literally. The inside of this head sounded like a swarm of bees had gotten trapped.

Somehow, they got on the subject of Thor's hammer and the myth of worthiness. Thor and Clint had kept the fact that Clint had been able to lift Mjölnir, a secret for years, particularly as it had been twice. Well, the best defense and all that crap…

Clint laughed, lowering his voice to a deep register. "'Whosoever be he worthy shall have the power.' Whatever, man. It's a trick."

The Asgardian flashed him a significant glance. "It is more than that, my friend."

"It's a trick!" Clint mentally rolled his eyes at his tone, thinking maybe he was protesting too much, but no one, not even Nat, seemed to notice.

Thor waved a hand at the hammer with exaggerate confidence. "Please, be my guest."

"Really?" From the look Thor gave him, they were both thinking about the invasion and the rooftop.

"Yeah."

Stark, never one to let the opportunity to make a smartass remark pass, said, "You've had a rough day, so we won't hold it against you if you can't get it up, Barton."

The rest of the team engaged in catcalls and friendly insults-including Nat-as Clint came around the table, all the while wondering two things. One: Could he still lift Mjölnir? And two: How would he fake not picking it up if he was still able to do so? He could say he changed his mind, but that would bring on a new round of insults at the expense of his dignity.

Tossing the drumsticks on the table, Clint walked over to the hammer and wrapped his left hand around the handle, feeling it move. Not much, but enough. You have an audience, Barton. Make it good.

Flexing the muscles of his left arm, Clint grunted as if straining to lift the hammer. After a few of those, he gave up, returning to the sofa near Hill, joining in the on the fun for the next person.

When Stark left to get the arm of his suit, Clint caught Thor's eye and winked. His secret was safe, and always would be. One day soon, he may even trust the Asgardian with his biggest and most well-kept secret. Maybe. Some day.

The End