Sloan absolutely loathed them. The three men that took up residence in her head. The three men that spent weeks after Sloan shut down, caring for her and feeding her and making sure she slept every night. They had Tony expand their already sizeable apartment to include two extra rooms, both for her! A bedroom and an empty room, both granted all access to Sloan. The rooms had keypads and alarm systems and everything. If Sloan wanted to lock the men out of her room she very well could and a couple times she had. Not that it mattered. The three fucking assholes never knocked on her door when it was locked. They never stood outside and demanded she come out. They never overrode the code (although admittedly 123 wasn't a very hard code to override) or ripped the bolts off the doors. They respected her boundaries and left her alone. And goddamit if that didn't make her want to leave her room and find them, more than she already sort of did.
She didn't want to admit it to herself, or anyone else for that matter, that she had been growing a soft spot for the men the moment she saw them at that stupid conference table. Sure the soft spot had hardened a little when she decided to ice out the men at all costs but it was softening by the minute and growing larger by the second. The once 'soft spot' was now very well a 'soft hole' in the center of her chest that ached when she was locking herself away in seclusion.
Sloan blamed her need to interact with other humans for the sake of her powers. She needed human contact every once and awhile so she wouldn't lose them, and it was a perfect excuse to keep her from admitting the reality of the situation to herself. The days where she did hole herself away in her room, however, were days spent mastering her powers or surfing the internet for various items. Stark was funding her stay here so she might as well use some of the cash she's been given. She never bought anything sexual (despite a pressing need in her lower half to do something about the fact she hasn't gotten laid in well over a couple months) in case one of the boys decided to open up her packages. The effort was fruitless however because the boys were annoyingly respectful of her privacy. Even if she only came out of her room to get packages, barely sparing them a glance.
They never forced food down her throat, but there was always food on the stove or counter (or in the fridge if she was feeling particularly isolationist) during meal times. They never came into her room to tell her to go to bed, but if she fell asleep on the couch they would take her to their room and tuck her in before having a sleepover in the living room. They never openly declared their feelings for her, but she didn't miss the warm affection in their eyes when she would come out of her room, or the smile on their face if she laughed. They were all assholes. Giant, caring, handsome, kind, respectful-of-Sloan's-boundaries, supersoldier (or archer in Clint's case) assholes. And Sloan was slowly feeling less and less inclined to continue icing them out. Not that she'd tell them that.
During the near-month she had spent, mostly isolating but occasionally socializing with the men; Sloan had more or less become reacquainted with her powers, bought a new wardrobe (although the clothes the men gave her were incredibly comfortable), completely redecorated her room, gained nearly 20 pounds (putting her at 117 lbs instead of her previous 97), and had become annoyingly fond of the men in apartment 4A. So, when the month came to a close. Sloan left her room and didn't lock the door behind her.
It was mid-morning, near afternoon when a barefoot Sloan crept into the living room. She had fallen asleep around 2 am, her thoughts of the men keeping her awake, and was still wearing Bucky's shirt and the shorts she had slept in. According to her StarkPhone (another gift from Tony), it was a Saturday, so the chances of the men being around were higher than usual. She usually emerged from her room once a week, during the week, so the men didn't get to see her a lot. Thus the reason for their surprised faces when she plopped down on the couch right next to Clint in the middle of an otherwise uneventful morning.
"House Hunters? Really?" Sloan teased, glancing at the TV.
Steve, the only man who hadn't been aware of her presence, jumped slightly from his chair adjacent to the couch. He frowned, looking down at a stray mark he made on his sketch, before looking back up at Sloan in surprise. Bucky who had been happily enjoying his lazy near-afternoon with his boys looked at Sloan with a slightly calculating (but mostly ridiculously happy that she was sitting with them) gaze. Clint just chuckled softly and gently pulled Sloan close to him, breathing a sigh of relief when she willingly went and tucked her face into his neck.
"Glad to have you back kid,"