a/n: there's a sentence in here that contains a spoiler for the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. mid-season finale; hopefully you've seen it already, and it's not a big deal... also, this chapter came out twice as long as i thought it would, but it's quite fun - hope you enjoy!

i'll swap you time, for a chance

five.

Thor strolls into the common area at five in the morning, and comes face-to-face with a Christmas tree that almost brushes the ceiling. He inspects it curiously, fingering the ornate wooden decorations and the gold and silver hanging baubles, tilts his head up to find the star made from artfully bent wires.

And one Hawkeye adding decorations to the top of the tree.

"Oh, hey Thor. How ya doin'?"

"I am well," Thor replies. "Although I am curious as to your current activity."

Clint shrugs from his newly created vent and hiding spot. "Decorating. Stark's tree was getting too classy for my taste. Never thought I'd ever say that."

Thor watches as Clint places a handful of purple arrows randomly around the top of the tree, humming under his breath. His curiosity piqued, he asks, "Do you often decorate? You have a fine artistic eye."

Clint snorts, "Hell no. It's a tradition, but only at Christmas. Used to be the trees at the Triskelion, or if I was on a mission, I'd break into a department store. That one's more fun, but Fury used to get pissed at the vents and move the tree to a different spot each year, so that one was also hilarious."

"A noble tradition indeed," Thor agrees.

Clint pulls out a couple of purple bows from his pocket and begins to add them next to the arrows, moving onto an off-key rendition of O Christmas Tree. After a minute, he's surprised to hear Thor attempting to harmonise.

"You sing?"

He nods enthusiastically. "This song is one of very few songs that I am familiar with. Jane has been trying to teach me more of your human repertoire."

"Okay, what else do you know? We've gotta move you beyond Christmas songs."

And after Clint climbs down from the ceiling (Thor still doesn't quite know how), they move into the kitchen and start on Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody while cooking breakfast (or rather, Thor cooking, with Clint using all available kitchen utensils to form his one-man band).

"What's going on?" Natasha asks warily, as she steps into the kitchen with Maria close behind.

"I'm teaching Thor decent music," Clint says, twirling a spatula through his fingers before pointing it at Maria. "Don't try to stop me; you know how long I can keep this up for."

Maria gives him a wry look. "Oh, I'm well aware."

"When was this?" Nat asks, confused. "Before I joined S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Yeah," Maria confirms, nodding her thanks at Thor for the plate of bacon and eggs appearing before her. "He sang for 72 hours straight to piss off Sitwell. Though, most of us didn't mind because Sitwell was gloating about his Madripoor operation."

"Aww, Nat, look – Hill's defending me!"

"I'm picking my battles," she says wearily. "We could do a lot worse than you singing. But, if you do feel like stopping, that would be much appreciated," she adds with a sardonic smile.

Nat takes a sip of her tea. "Is there video of this anywhere?"

"Cameras at S.H.I.E.L.D. picked it up and stored it in archives, so you may have dumped it on the internet, somewhere."

"Fantastic," Nat says, making a mental note to check.

Thor continues singing, starting the Sesame Street theme song, oblivious to the lack of interest from Nat and Maria.

Natasha looks slyly in Maria's direction, idly sipping her tea. "So, I hear Tony's got something planned this afternoon. Are you in?"

"We'll see. Christmas Eve doesn't stop HYDRA and other lunatic scientists," she says, angling her tablet screen away and reading an encrypted email from May. Something about Terrigenesis and Skye? Fuck. Another for the to-do list. "Also, if you see Rogers and Wilson, tell them to meet me in my office this morning."

"Barnes?" Natasha asks quietly. "Also, you didn't give a straight answer."

"Could be," she says, clipped. "And no, you're right, I didn't."

Nat shrugs delicately, "Could be fun."

Maria ignores her. "Just tell them I need to see them later," she repeats, sweeping her hand towards Thor. "Sunny and cloudless days be damned, shit still happens."

Nat eyes her with the tiniest hint of worry. "Hey Thor," she calls out. "Change the song; it's getting unrealistically happy in here."

Thor obliges, and later, Bruce walks in to Thor and Clint belting out Billy Joel's Piano Man, complete with improvised flutes made from empty glass bottles.

...

"Okay, we're starting a new tradition," Tony announces to the room, dumping a large container at his feet. Thor looks excited, Bruce looks apprehensive, and Clint stops humming long enough to audibly groan.

"Barton, you don't even know what it is yet. And anyway, I think you'll like this one."

"Yeah?" Clint challenges.

"Laser tag," he says proudly. "Three teams, tag everyone from the other two teams to win. I've temporarily converted the three gym floors into a maze, so no need to worry, you gym freaks."

Clint nods slowly, warming to the idea. "Why not paintball?"

Tony shuffles his feet. "Pepper won't let me. Twenty-two percent of this tower's hers."

"Twenty-two?" Bruce looks sceptical.

"Ehh, she got a raise."

"Wait, if it's only lasers, why can't we use the rest of the tower?"

"What, three floors not enough for you? I don't need you creating random vents and railings and holes through the rest of my building."

"Fine," Clint says. "But I call Nat and no one else."

"Yeah, I expected as much. We'll wait 'til everyone else gets back to sort teams, shouldn't be too long," Tony says, reaching into the container and fiddling with the guns.

"Is this a normal practice?" Thor asks, as he curiously inspects a vest.

"It is now. I'm trying out cool Christmas traditions," Tony replies, experimentally pressing the trigger. "Look, the lasers even do red, green, and gold."

As Thor moves on to inspecting the guns, Maria strides in accompanied by Steve and Sam, who catches sight of the guns and vests and immediately exclaims, "Aw, no way, man! Laser tag!"

"Yup," Tony agrees. "Where's Nat?"

"Here," she says, sneaking in and making Tony jump. Behind his back, she smirks at Maria and mock applauds, earning an impressive eye-roll in response.

"Geez, Romanoff, keep your ninja moves to yourself," he says, annoyed. "Okay, everyone's here, so I'm gonna explain this once, even though I shouldn't have to because you're all ex-military or whatever."

"Hey, I object to that," Barton interrupts.

Tony ignores him. "Three teams, tag everyone else that's not on your side – you only get one life, so if you're tagged, you're gone and JARVIS will deactivate your equipment – and last one standing wins for their team. Stick to the gym floors, each team can have one for their base to start off," he says, handing out guns and vests.

"I'm not going with anyone except Clint," Natasha demands.

"Oh my god, you guys. If you weren't freaky assassins, I'd call you cute," Tony says. "Fine. My team's red. Bruce, your team can have the green ones, which leaves Barton and Romanoff with gold."

"A bit obvious," Bruce mutters, glaring at Tony. "I call Steve, then."

Steve smiles, happy with the arrangement, and opens his mouth to choose only to be cut off by Tony.

"Nope, it's my turn, Cap," he says. Stark looks around carefully at the remaining group, before smirking gleefully, "Hill! Come and join the dark side!"

Maria stops playing with the gun in her hand. "Are you kidding me?"

"Absolutely not. I value your strategic mind and shooting skills."

Steve shrugs, "He has a point."

"Also, I need you to tell me how to beat the captain. We can't function as the Avengers if we don't know our strengths and weaknesses," he says in an attempt to placate the lieutenant.

"You really don't run out of words, do you?" She sighs, resigned.

"Never. So, Thor and Sam – do you have a preference?"

"I think we work well together, Dr. Banner. It would be an honour to fight with you," Thor says from the inside of his vest, confused with the orientation of the straps and struggling to pull it over his head.

"Okay then, Wilson, you're with us, and we're all set! Nat, you and Clint can take the top floor because there's only two of you; we'll take the middle; and Bruce, you lot can take the bottom gym. Get to know the layout of your floor, because each level's different. Oh yeah, and wear dark clothes, obviously," he rattles off. "JARVIS will announce go, and please, people – try not to kill each other, because I want a cool Christmas tradition that will stick."

(Unbeknownst to them, JARVIS manages to get a picture of all the Avengers lined up with ridiculous laser tag gear. Pepper considers it an early Christmas present.)

-o-o-o-

"Hill, what's our strategy?" Tony stage-whispers as they're in the elevator. "Who are we taking out first?"

She rolls her eyes and waits until they step out onto their floor before turning to Tony and Sam. "We've got the middle floor, which means that people are going to have to pass through eventually if they want to hit someone. And that's good, because Rogers is most likely going to go for Nat or Sam first."

"Why?" Tony asks curiously.

"He's worked with them recently, so he'll think it's fair. In terms of the gold team, Romanoff also has to head to this level to tag someone; most likely you, me, or Rogers. She'll try and draw us out, and Barton will definitely be behind her. So, most of the action for the moment is going to be here, and we can try to set it up so they end up shooting each other."

Tony raises his eyebrows, impressed. "I knew there was a reason I picked you. Although, much as I appreciate your cunning strategy, I feel for all those unwitting S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."

"I was the fucking deputy director, Stark," Maria snaps. "Stuff got done."

"Okay, okay, I said you were good," Tony says. "What's next?"

She exhales. "The connecting stairwell will also be a vantage point, so if we can get one of us up there, that will help."

Sam jumps in, "Yeah, but didn't you give Natasha and Clint the top floor? Won't they take control of the stairs?"

"Normally, yes, Clint would stay at the top of the stairs," she agrees. "But because it's multiple targets, and there're no windows for him to see through and down, he'll be on the ground as Nat's backup from a distance."

"Okay," Sam nods. "So, what are we going to do?"

"Tony, you're going to be the bait, and Sam will have your back. I'm going to find the best view of the entrance from this floor. Once Nat, Barton, and Rogers are in, I'll give you two knocks and you can start. Tony, try and draw Nat out so Rogers can tag her – he's a better shot than you, so there's more chance that he'll get her without you having to expose your position too much."

"Right. And where will you be for all this?"

"Outside, at the top of the stairwell. If anyone happens to use the stairs, I'll tag them. Thor and Bruce are probably the weakest at this game, so we can deal with them later. As much as I can tell you the strategy now, it'll change once the game starts – it's basically down to luck and decent shooting. If you guys make it out, meet me at the top of the stairs, and we can go after Thor and Bruce and whoever's left." She releases a breath, "Are we clear for now?"

Sam nods again, and Tony grins, "Yes, ma'am."

-o-o-o-

"I think I'll stay and defend the base," Thor declares. "I have much experience in doing so."

Steve shakes his head. "Not quite how this game works, Thor. I think it'd be best if you-"

Bruce cuts in, "Actually, Steve, I'm not as comfortable on the offense, so I can stay back with Thor. Everyone's probably going to think we're the easiest to take out-"

"-Really?" Thor looks indignant.

"-So we can stay here and take care of anyone who wants to come down," he shrugs apologetically. "Thor, you just said you wanted to defend."

"That is most true," Thor concedes. "I would feel privileged to defend with you, doctor."

"Okay, well, in that case, I'm going to head up and get the others out."

"Anyone in particular?" Bruce asks.

"I'll start with Nat. She's probably the biggest threat," he says. "If I make it back, I'll whistle to give you a signal."

Steve is suddenly enveloped into a giant bear hug, his arms pinned to his side and his head unable to move, with Thor's voice booming above him and echoing around the cavernous room.

"Good luck and safe travels, my friend."

(Steve has to take a moment to catch his breath. He pretends not to notice Bruce's silent laughter.)

-o-o-o-

"Okay, who are we gonna shoot first?" Clint turns to Nat as he attaches a scope to his gun.

"Tony, because he gloats. Or Maria, because she's less likely to be anyone's first target," she says.

"Wait, why?"

She quirks the corner of her mouth. "Well, it's either us, or Steve's team…"

"Huh?"

"Never mind," she says, shaking her head and pointing to the scope. "Did you nick that from Stark's lab?"

"Yup. He wanted to make me night-vision goggles, can you imagine?" He shudders, "Told him to make me a fancy scope instead."

"You don't use scopes."

"Yeah, but free fancy Stark tech? Gotta at least try it out," he says, indicating the gun and the vest. "I mean, look at this game – I wish it was paintball, but at least the laser tag equipment is pretty good. Beats the crappy stuff we had for S.H.I.E.L.D. training exercises."

"Fair enough," she says. "Are you going to stay on the stairs?"

"Nope," he says immediately. "I can't see all the gyms from there. It's better if I have your back on the ground."

A slow smile spreads across her face. "Okay partner, let's go win this."

-o-o-o-

Two knocks reverberate around the quiet gym, the walls of the maze distorting its intensity and direction.

At Sam's nod, Tony starts creeping forward, peering out from behind a foam block. He runs out, head flicking side-to-side, and darts behind another wall, straining to hear anyone's footsteps. He counts to five in his head, before moving again, checking that Sam is still behind him. Up ahead, he spots a flash of red hair, and grins triumphantly. Gotcha, he thinks. Then, I really need to do this more often.

Taking a deep breath, he fires a shot into the air and runs towards Nat, trying to gauge the captain's position in the process. He pauses again, fires another shot and runs, waiting for Sam, only to hear the sound of a gun and his yelp from behind him. Quickly, he flattens his back against a wall. Seriously? It's only been ten minutes. Angling his head around the wall, he comes face-to-face with Steve. He gestures in Nat's general direction, and the captain nods in agreement, calling a temporary alliance.

On the count of three, he dashes out, and with a sigh of relief, sees Nat finally out in the open. Not wasting another second, he ducks behind a pile of gym mats and hears Steve's shot ring out, missing the Black Widow as she smoothly rolls away. Holding his breath, Tony peeps through the tiny slit in the mats, hardly believing his luck at having Nat on the other side of the mats. In one fluid motion, he stands up with his back against the barrier, and aims, firing a single shot down at the ex-assassin.

Natasha lets loose a steady stream of curses in Russian and English; Stark swears he can hear his name mixed in there with 'beginner's luck' and a very long list of detailed bodily threats.

I win, he mouths at her, grinning cheerily. Have fun, Romanoff!

Natasha gives him the finger, the most ungraceful gesture he's ever seen from her, and he silently sniggers. He sneaks around her, swivelling his head in all directions and making for the exit, keen not to be stuck on the same floor with both Hawkeye and Captain America.

-o-o-o-

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'L'."

They're crouched behind two adjacent walls, whispers passing between them. Bruce fervently hopes that no one will walk in at this stage; somehow, he doesn't think that Thor and Bruce Banner playing an idle game of 'I Spy' in the middle of laser tag would reflect particularly well on the Avengers' supposedly feared reputation.

Bruce sighs, and tinkers with his gun. "Laser?"

"No."

"Laser gun?"

"Yes, you are correct," Thor beams through the darkness. "It's your turn, doctor."

He sighs again, wishing someone would just barrel through the entrance.

"Okay, I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'B'…"

-o-o-o-

She tenses at the figure approaching her, before relaxing when she listens to the steps and realises that it's Tony.

"Who's left?"

"Sam got hit, probably Barton. I tagged Romanoff," he whispers back, trying to contain his glee.

"You hit Nat?"

"Ouch, that hurts," he mutters. "Give me some credit, won't you?"

"Sure, whatever." She rolls her eyes, its effect lost in the dark. "Okay, I saw Barton head down, but I couldn't get a clear shot, so I didn't fire. Haven't seen Rogers, so as far as I know, no one knows we're still up here. We need to move soon, so we'll wait for Rogers to head down, then we'll follow."

They crouch in silence for a good five minutes, and Tony feels his muscles locking up, feels a need to start tapping or click his fingers or scratch, or just move. He barely manages to suppress a sneeze, and casting an almost apologetic glance sideways, receives a glare in return.

After another agonising minute, they spot Rogers making his way out of the middle floor.

"Finally. Took you long enough," Maria breathes. Turning to Stark, she says, "Okay, I've got your back, so start moving down."

"Oh no, you're going first," he says with a knowing glance. "Trust me, it's better that way."

At her apprehensive look, he hisses, "Look, just trust me on this one. This isn't one of your fucked-up S.H.I.E.L.D. missions, okay? I've got your back."

She glares at him again, but acquiesces, moving forward and down the stairs, pausing after each twist. They make it to the bottom floor and cautiously enter, stepping around a few tall blocks. Rounding a corner, they meet Steve head-on.

Before he has a chance to give them a polite nod, Maria smoothly aims and shoots him in the chest without hesitation.

Tony takes a moment to punch the air. "Yeah, that's more like it," he jubilantly whispers. "Told you it would work."

"You thought it would work based on the fact that I'm a faster draw?" She raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "Remind me to triple check whatever plans you make in the future."

"No," he says slowly, as if explaining to a four year old, "It worked because he would hesitate more and take longer to shoot you."

"So you used me as a shield," she says at the same time as Steve exclaims indignantly, "That's not true!"

"Rogers gets a shield all the time," he whispers dismissively. "I'm on a roll today!"

"Hey Tony," a voice behind him murmurs. Tony, temporarily distracted by his success, whirls around and is greeted by a blast of green.

"Don't get cocky," Bruce smirks from the shadows, before promptly disappearing, not wishing to test Maria's reflexes and aim.

She shakes her head. "See you later, gentlemen," she drawls, inching away behind a row of exercise equipment.

She weaves in and out of the maze, periodically checking over her shoulder for any sign of Clint. She fires a shot into the middle of the gym, waiting for a response and listening for the tell-tale shuffle of feet. Closing her eyes for a second, she fires another shot, before smiling as she figures out Bruce and Thor's positions.

She fires yet another shot, roughly halfway between the two of them, and silently congratulates herself as she hears the distinctive sound of someone being tagged.

"Thor," she hears Bruce mutter. "I'm on your team. You just tagged me."

"Apologies, my friend. I was confused when I saw the red laser."

Bruce wearily shrugs. "Yeah, I think that was the point. I'm not sure who's still in, but be careful of Maria and Natasha and Clint."

"Of course," Thor says solemnly. "And again, my deepest apologies."

Bruce nods. "Just win this thing, okay?"

-o-o-o-

Despite having lost Nat to Tony Stark's ridiculously good luck, Clint thinks that this game isn't too bad. Playing with guns in the dark while trying to beat the rest of his super-human friends is exactly what they should have been doing from the start.

So when he comes across Hill standing behind a line of punching bags, he pauses, deciding whether to tag her.

"Barton," she says, as if she'd been waiting for him.

"You've been listening to footsteps, haven't you?" He remarks, with a hint of pride. "And letting everyone shoot each other."

"You taught well," she shrugs. "And yes, it's more effective with you trigger-happy people to just let you attack each other."

He considers her for a moment. "Okay, for old times' sake, how 'bout we team up to get Thor?"

She eyes him suspiciously, and he continues, "I mean, we both know that either of us could shoot the other right now, but I like to play fair."

"Okay," she eventually agrees. "But you're going in front. You can trust me and my skills enough to have your back."

"Of course," he says, inclining his head forward. "Let's go beat a Norse god."

He moves forward without a sound, Maria easily keeping up behind him. They settle into a rhythm forgotten years ago, complete with signals designed specifically between the two of them.

She picks up on Thor's footsteps seconds before he does, and he grins, motioning them forward. He moves slightly to the right, allowing her a clear line of sight, giving her a go-ahead signal.

Maria takes a steadying breath, ready to fire two successive shots; one at Thor, then one at Barton, thankful that the sniper is currently in front of her. She exhales, silently releasing her breath with the first beam of red light hitting its target cleanly, then swings her gun around in a smooth arc, only to hear the buzz from her vest go off.

"Game over," JARVIS announces, the lights gradually turning on. "Gold team wins."

"You shot me backwards?" She asks with an air of incredulity.

"I moved right, and I'm left-handed. Easy shot," he says, smirking. "Either that, or you've been out of the field for too long, my young Padawan."

"Shut up, Barton," she retorts.

"Hmm, no, I don't think I will," he says, walking out to find the others.

(And this time, Maria genuinely wishes he would stop singing. We Are the Champions runs ragged circles in her head for the rest of the night.)

...

Natasha spies him from across the room, noticing his absent scribbling in the sketch book in front of him.

"You know, I don't think anyone in here looks like a dancing monkey," she says, peering over his shoulder. "Unless someone's given Stark all the tequila."

Steve shrugs, distracted. "She's good," he says, almost out of the blue.

Natasha stays quiet, letting him continue, "She figured all of us out. Knew what each of us would do."

"That's what she does," she says, after a pause. "Her operations at S.H.I.E.L.D. always had the highest success rates."

Steve nods, unsurprised. "But I can't figure her out."

Nat looks at him carefully, "Maybe you don't have to. She has her reasons for doing things, but she still trusts you."

It's Steve's turn to stay silent, pencil still scratching as he looks towards the woman in question chatting with Dr. Foster.

"She gave you her latest intel on Barnes today," she prods further. "You need your friend back, someone you can trust. She understands that."

"That's what she said as well," he says.

"See? She can be unpredictable, but think about this – you asked her to stay for Christmas, and we've seen more of her in the past week, than in the last month. What does that tell you?"

Steve mulls it over before cracking a grin. "Are you setting me up again, Natasha?"

"Only because you need it," she quips.

"Speaking of which, you do realise you set me up with Peggy's great-niece last time, right?"

Nat shrugs, unrepentant. "She's nice."

"Yeah, but it was kinda weird," he says, shaking his head slowly.

She lets them sit in a comfortable silence, watching Stark and Barton and Thor attempt to out-sing each other. She spots the easy smile that makes its way across the captain's face, and takes that as her cue to leave.

"Natasha," he says, stopping her. She turns around and quirks a brow at him.

"Thanks," he adds simply.

She nods, "Anytime, Rogers."