"Mixing beer and vodka is a bad idea," Sam said solemnly.
"Bad," Clint said, voice hollow. "Very bad."
"Hey, guys!" Natasha jogged into the kitchen, warm-up gear clad, ponytail bouncing, and a trace of dewy sweat on her forehead. "Steve! How's your man?"
Steve smiled, his expression soft. "He's good."
"Otlichno!"* Nat went to the refrigerator and pulled out a jug of orange juice. Pouring a glass she drank it down, eyes on Clint and Sam, who were hiding in their coffee cups.
Putting her glass into the sink, Nat beamed at them. "Never try to outdrink a Russian, boys!
((((((((((
*Excellent!
