Thank you, everybody, for your patience! I am finally out of school for the summer, and this afternoon I finished signing up for next year's classes. Hooray!

So sorry for the lateness of these next entries - but you do get two for the price of one. ;)

I hope they make you smile!

Entry #36: Camping Trip

Clint was the first one to regain full consciousness, naturally. He could hear the birds chirping outside the tent, and – reaching up – pulled back the little flap that revealed their "skylight." It was still somewhat dark out, but Clint could already tell it was a wonderful, crisp, clear morning that promised to be absolutely gorgeous.

The assassin glanced over at his two snoring companions and cautiously poked Dr. Banner in the shoulder. The scientist groaned and rolled over, snuggling into his pillow and mumbling something about atomic diffusion.

"Hey! I thought you were going fishing!" Clint hissed.

There was no response from Bruce, so Clint quickly got dressed in something warmer, grabbed his bow and quiver (which he took with him absolutely everywhere) and headed toward the tent flap. Once outside, he smiled, taking a deep breath of that clean, mountain air. Aaaaahhhhh… Relaxation. That's what life was all about, right? He had been tragically deprived of some much-needed R&R last weekend, but now he could make up for lost time.

After starting a fire – it was a little chilly out in the early morning hours – Clint glanced over his shoulder to see if anybody else looked like they were awake. All of the tents were still dark.

…and then he noticed that Steve and Tony's tent was nowhere to be seen.

He blinked.

Was that possible? It had been there just last night.

Immediately suspicious of foul play, as any good assassin would be, Clint reached over his shoulder for an arrow and began slinking around the campsite, determined to find their tent.

Finally, he spotted a wilting little mound at the very far edge of the clearing. Was that it? Yes, that was definitely a tent. But it was… sideways. And sort of lumpy. And looked like it had a large tear in one corner.

Sprinting over, Clint tried to find the tent flap, but it was trapped underneath the sleeping bags and all of Stark's camping paraphernalia that he knew must still be inside. "TONY! STEVE!" He shouted. "GUYS, ARE YOU IN THERE?!"

There was a muffled grunt from inside the tent, and then the sound of someone snoring. Loudly.

Relieved, Clint walked around the tent until he found the little "skylight." The flap was hanging down, and he peered through the clear plastic window, trying to see what was inside. Nothing was visible in the gloom, so he took a small flashlight from his pocket and flicked it on.

A jumble of sleeping bags, pillows, possibly dead bodies, and unlit lanterns graced the scene. Then one of the bodies moved. A closer look determined that the suspect was wearing star-spangled pajamas. Well, Steve was alive. And Tony must be, too. Yes, there he was. Now that he had rolled over, Clint could see the billionaire's arc reactor glowing in the dark. He pointed the flashlight directly at Steve. "What happened last night?"

"Mrrmph…" Steve yawned, stretched, and then rubbed his eyes. "Huh?"

Tony's mouth was hanging open, and he was snoring like a freight train.

"I said, 'What happened last night'?" Clint repeated.

Steve blinked a few times, squinting up at the flashlight. His blonde 1940s hairstyle was completely flattened on one side, and he had an enormous cowlick on the top of his head. "Huh?" he said again, sounding only slightly more alert.

Clint sighed. "Can you roll the tent back over and get up?"

"…Sure," mumbled Steve. He attempted to shake Tony awake, but soon gave up, as there was no visible response forthcoming.

"I'll help," offered Clint.

The two of them finally managed to get the tent upright again, with much tugging and pushing and grunting. Steve was the first to get dressed and stumble outside, still looking rather bemused, but he did give Clint a sleepy grin.

Then they waited for Tony to emerge.

He didn't.

"Tony?" Clint poked his head inside the tent. The snoring had stopped, but Tony appeared to have tunneled into his sleeping bag like a disgruntled rabbit. The only things sticking out were his legs.

Clint reached in and slowly unzipped the sleeping bag, revealing Tony's befuddled glare. "Go 'way…" he mumbled, rolling over again.

"Fine. Stay if you want to," Steve invited, heading toward the campfire. "I just hope there aren't any more spiders in there…"

That did the trick. Tony exited the tent like it was on fire, wearing nothing but his hot-rod red pajama bottoms. He had just enough time to snatch his tennis shoes on the way out and was putting them on as he went, hopping toward the campfire on one foot.

Clint was impressed. "I've never seen him look more alive."

Steve sighed, delving back into the tent to grab Tony some actual clothes. "We had a bit of a long night. Let's just say that as soon as Natasha gets up, I'm going to be down on my face begging for a transfer."

Back at the campfire, Tony had successfully tied his shoes, and Loki had just arrived on the scene, wearing his usual smirk.

"Mornin'."

Loki zipped up his black sweater and sat down on one of the folding chairs surrounding the fire pit, obviously amused at the sight of Tony's unimpressive attire.

"Coffee?" Tony asked of no one in particular. Then he stumbled back toward his tent. He was sure he had packed some instant coffee packets in his suitcase…

That, in case you were wondering, was indeed the peace before the storm.

Read on!

~Alassiel