"It's pizza, Stark," Clint muttered. "I think I'll be forgiven if I miss it one night."

It was easy to tell that Tony wasn't about to give in. If there was one thing that was obvious about Tony Stark from that start, it was that he was damn stubborn when he set his mind to something. Unfortunately for everyone, he seemed pretty damn set on this whole team pizza thing.

No one actually knew how it had started or what the point was supposed to be - other than the so-called "bonding" that didn't actually seem to be happening - but Steve had been the one to point out that they were essentially living in the man's house free of charge, so it might be good to humor him with it.

Clint had managed to keep himself civil each time so far. That was mostly accomplished by avoiding everyone else as much as possible, and he didn't feel too bad since everyone except Tony seemed to be trying the same thing. Tonight, though, was one of his bad nights. They didn't happen nearly as often as they used to, but they usually meant that any social interaction wasn't a very good idea. Of course, Tony couldn't read him like Natasha could, and the man was stubborn to a fault.

"C'mon, Legolas, it's not like you do anything with us anyway. Just come down and get free food." His arms folded and he leaned against the door frame. "Boosts team morale if everyone's there."

"We're not a team," Clint muttered. "Barely even talk, really."

"Bruce and I talk plenty." He looked almost offended for a moment and then brown eyes rolled. "Just because you and your girlfriend prefer dark corners -"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Yeah, sure, so you keep saying." Stark waved one hand impatiently and plowed on. "Just because you two are all super-secret-spy and the good captain is still...adjusting, that doesn't mean you're not allowed to be in the same room as a few other people for a change." The stubborn stares met, and after a moment the older man let out a short sigh. "If you don't come down for at least...ten minutes I'm raising your rent."

"Raise my - you don't charge us rent."

"Precisely."

Another bout of stubborn staring lasted longer than the first, but Clint finally let out an impatient breath and rolled his eyes.

"Ten minutes. If you try to keep me longer, I will shoot you, 'team' or not."

It shouldn't have surprised him that ten minutes somehow got extended into twenty. Really, it surprised him that he was surprised, in a way. As usual, the entire affair was rather subdued. Natasha had somehow gotten out of it, probably with threats. Thor had yet to come back - though he wouldn't actually mention it, Clint wasn't really holding his breath - so it was just the motley group of four that barely managed to hold conversations for more than five minutes at a time. Tony and Bruce, granted, could get on their little science rants, but after long enough that was the only real sound in the room.

Clint wasn't actually sure if Tony had trapped him on purpose. While it was entirely possible to walk past the man from where he was chattering away at Bruce about something, there was an extremely good chance that he would attempt to pull the younger man into the conversation - possibly literally. It didn't look intentional, but there was only one door in the room and being planted right in front of it probably wasn't an accident.

It wasn't like it was terrible at first. He'd been stuck in parties with marks for hours, but there was a purpose with that. This was just...frustrating. After the first fifteen minutes the edginess began to set in. There was a reason he always preferred the roof - being in any room with only one door for any extended period of time was never ideal, and tonight it seemed worse than usual. After twenty minutes, he was tempted to plant a knife in the wall just to send a message.

He hadn't had a bad night like this in a while. The unease might come up sometimes, but it usually subsided after an hour or so. Today it hadn't, and now he was stuck in a room, and there was a prickling in the back of his mind that he was trying to ignore with little success. Hell, he just wanted to get out and maybe get to the roof, maybe do some target practice, something to get his head on straight again.

For now he just had to get out; he had to at least get somewhere with more than one exit. The archer managed to almost cross the entire room before Tony noticed, and for once the silent order to keep his mouth shut seemed to work. It was a surprise, but a satisfying one. Of course he hadn't accounted for Bruce...

"You alright, Clint?"

Dammit... Bruce, ironically, seemed to have been the first one to get legitimately comfortable with everyone else. Tony acted like it, but he still kept his masks up. Steve was polite, but he didn't try to be open. Bruce actually appeared to genuinely like everyone in the room; he had been the first one to use first names on a regular basis. Made it difficult to dislike the man, even if you were aware of the Hulk constantly lurking under that smile.

"I'm fine." Just be polite, get out. His hands itched for his bow, a knife, something to throw or shoot or something...

"You look pale."

Hell, how could he tell that? Clint glanced down at his hands as if he'd be able to spot it before he shook his head. "Just...a little tired; I'm fine."

He didn't even notice the doctor approaching until they were face to face and he cursed the inattention. Bruce, of course, looked legitimately concerned, peering up at him critically. Finally he spoke again, voice raised a little.

"Think he's telling me the truth, Steve?"

A quick glance back at Steve showed that he certainly hadn't been expecting the question; he blinked quickly before shrugging one shoulder.

"I wouldn't guess so. Not around us."

Clint shot him a sharp glare. "What's that supposed to mean, Rogers?"

Another shrug. "You don't trust us. It's easy enough to see, and fairly understandable."

"Understandable, but not always smart," Bruce cut in before Clint could retort. "You're here and there's something up. You sick?"

Was he? Clint had to hesitate to consider it. He had definitely been sick right after Manhattan. Natasha had guessed that his body had been physically trying to fight of Loki's influence, and when it was suddenly gone, he had crashed. It made sense, but it hadn't been pleasant. This wasn't the same. This was...an itch, almost, in his head like where a scab hadn't fully healed over. Not an open wound, but enough to notice.

"I'm sick of being in this room," he said finally, fighting to keep his fingers still. "It's too closed in. Can I go now?"

Bruce didn't look convinced. "You don't lie as well like this. If you're sick I can help."

"C'mon, Legolas." Of course Tony cut in. Clint squeezed his eyes closed a few moments trying to get what little remained of his patience back. "You're spy face is broken; just spit it out."

"Are you sure you want to be antagonizing a man who can break your neck before you can blink, Stark?" The words were out before he registered them and Clint clamped his mouth shut again. He kept the glare, though, and was rather pleased when the other three looked taken aback.

"I think it's against the rules to murder your roommates," Tony said after a moment. His tone was still light, but there was a little less confidence behind it this time. "After all, we're -"

"I've already murdered my teammates, my students, and a couple supervisors." Clint took a step closer to the billionaire, and the grin he pulled on was somewhat challenging. "I barely know you."

To his credit, Tony didn't reply. It was silent long enough that Clint was beginning to think he'd made his point and they'd let him go, and he was just turning toward the door when, of course, Steve spoke up again.

"That wasn't you, Barton. That was Loki, and everyone knows that."

"Oh yeah?" He whirled on the older man, nails digging into his palms. Damn he wanted his bow... "Because I seem to remember my arrows and myexplosives and my hand shooting. You people think so too, even if you won't admit it." Blue eyes glanced over to each of them quickly and he snorted. "You don't think I see you, but I'm trained for that, aren't I? I can see your looks, and you're still worried I'm gonna snap."

He was definitely getting some looks now. All three of them were staring - Tony just looked a little confused while Steve and Bruce both looked actively concerned. Hell... Clint swore under his breath, turning and running a hand through his hair impatiently.

"Maybe I will, who the hell knows? Maybe I'll just snap and take out the entire damn building - end up regretting all those times I was too exhausted to pull the trigger. Make Fury regret not taking me out when he had the chance."

The silence after that statement was strained. He could see Tony visibly stiffen and Bruce's gaze darken a little. Great. This had turned out to be a cheerful night. With another curse Clint turned back toward the door, trying to ignore the stares at his back.

"Next time I decline a dinner offer," he shot over his shoulder, "keep in mind that it might be in everyone else's best interest."

"You got me covered, Nat?"

"Yeah, I've got it. You have an opening - move."

The lighting was bad. Probably set up that way, meant to throw people off, make shots go awry...but hell it was annoying. Clint kept his finger hovering over the trigger, mentally swearing at whoever had decided he couldn't use a bow for this. Not that he was bad with a gun. It just wasn't preferable.

He could feel Natasha moving behind him, her gun raised as well as she scanned the area they had just left. They'd used this strategy countless times, and it had only gone terribly wrong twice that he could remember.

"Movement at your three." The words were barely audible and Clint reacted immediately, dropping and rolling behind the closest low wall. He propped himself up enough to aim over it and took a shot, smirking a little as a loud curse confirmed the hit.

"One to go."

"Last one might be harder," she reminded him. "More training - he actually knows how to use a gun."

"Noted." Clint stood, gesturing with his gun vaguely. "Ladies first."

The guy was definitely better than his partner, that was for sure. They kept hearing him moving, but getting a visual was a lot harder than it should have been. Military training was effective, apparently. But even so, one man against two trained SHIELD assassins didn't stand very much of a chance.

It took some maneuvering to get him cornered. Silent gestures, expressions, and just general knowledge of how the other operated, and they managed to step around the walls at the exact same time, guns trained carefully at the man's chest. Clint could see the moment he realized he was caught. Hands went up in surrender and he let out a resigned sigh.

"Alright, well played. You gonna -"

Steve cut off suddenly when Natasha fired. His eyes cut down to his chest and then dulled a little before his arms dropped.

"You realize I surrendered, right?"

Clint smirked, propping his gun on his shoulder as the lights came back on. Steve didn't look nearly as amused.

"You were the mark," Natasha said simply. "We took out the mark."

"I had surrendered," Steve pointed out grimly. "What, take no hostages?"

"Not unless the orders are to take hostages, no."

"They're scary, I keep telling you," Tony called. They glanced around as he strode toward them. "Legolas there got me practically without looking."

"Well you were right out in the open, Stark," Clint reminded him. "And these damn vests give a pretty clear target." He tapped absently at his chest where the glowing lights converged onto the center. "They've got ten-year-olds in here who are better shots than you."

"Well usually I've got a state-of-the-art aiming mechanism, so I don't worry about that too much..."

"Which is exactly the problem," Steve cut in. "It was three against two and they still wiped us out in a few minutes because you ignored the plan and went charging out into the line of fire."

Clint found himself rolling his eyes, leaning against the nearest wall. Steve had been the one to propose the whole 'training exercise'. Apparently using actual guns was frowned upon in the middle of New York, so they had improvised and Tony had managed to rent out the nearest laser tag arena for the day. The more rounds they went, the more dismayed Steve seemed to get. It was hard to tell whether it was because he was just a lot worse at laser tag than he'd expected or because the 'training' didn't seem to be accomplishing anything.

"Really, it was two against two," Natasha pointed out. "Banner gave himself up at the door."

"I'm not exactly sure what you were expecting, Cap." Clint, spun the gun idly, examining the opposite wall. "You were military, Stark wasn't. Not like he's well known for following orders."

"They weren't orders, they..." Steve let out a breath, shaking his head. "They were tactics - we've seen you work before, and we should've been able to at least last longer than that."

"You've seen two of our moves." Natasha turned toward the exit, unstrapping her vest as she went. "Maybe. That doesn't mean you could take us."

The three men exchanged glances before following. Tony started swearing under his breath about cheap tech, lousy rules, and wastes of time. Steve looked both tired and frustrated and sighed heavily, falling in step beside Clint.

"Well that was...ineffective," he muttered. "Don't suppose it'd pay to ask how you two manage it?"

The archer shrugged. "We've been working together for years. It's second-nature. Do things well or you get one of you killed."

"Knew guys in the army who'd get set with a new team and be completing missions the next day. After...everything, I assumed it'd at least be better than..." One hand gestured at the room in general, "…well, all that."

"We had a lucky break in Manhattan." Clint met the rather startled glance with a raised brow. "It's true, and you know it. Fury knew it when he threw us all together; he knew it was a shot in the dark. Living in the same building for a little while doesn't mean we're gonna be some elite fighting force."

"There was something during that battle." He sounded so damn convinced, it was almost hard to argue. "Wasn't brilliant or flawless, but it got the job done, and that's more than a lot of people can say." The younger man hesitated a little, looking over at Natasha for a moment before he sighed.

"What Nat and I do isn't flawless, but it's worked so far. After nearly getting killed a few thousand times there isn't much of an option but to trust each other. This group...we're not exactly at that point."

"Even so, it's not impossible -"

"You're assuming the rest actually know how to work with others." Clint shook his head, glancing toward Tony who was struggling with the velcro on his gear. "Stark's been working alone for years. Banner still isn't used to people in general, and Natasha and I have been paired up for so long..." He shrugged. "We're not a team, Rogers."

The other man let out a slow breath, nodding quickly at Bruce who seemed to be attempting a slightly apologetic look when he caught up.

"We're not," he said after a moment, "but we could be."

Clint watched as he strode away and shot a look at the others briefly before snorting lightly, pulling at the vest and tossing the gun onto its hook.

"Yeah. Good luck with that, buddy."

Living in the same building made it very easy to learn the weirdest quirks about everyone else. Overall, they were all fairly private people - though Thor was apparently more used to having others around than the rest, and Tony was private with everyone except the press - but it was hard to stay completely private when you ran into someone in the kitchen at two in the morning or ended up in the same gym before the sun rose.

They learned that Steve didn't sleep much. He claimed that he'd slept for 70 years and his body had decided to store it up, so it wasn't really that necessary. This tended to lead to unexpected run-ins in the middle of the night when someone would get up for a drink - or in Clint's case, just the occasional inability to sleep through an entire night - and find the ex-soldier reading by a window or messing with the tablet Tony had given him.

They learned that Tony talked to his various robots almost constantly, despite the fact that only one of them talked back. He would threaten them with soaked circuits, general dismantlement, and a few things that Clint wasn't entirely sure were legal. Despite all that, though, it was an unmentioned fact that the engineer had kept the first bot since he'd built the thing at 17, and the other two were based on the same design.

They learned that Bruce was a surprisingly adept singer. Tony was the first to discover this, as it seemed to be most prevalent in the lab, but it eventually leaked into other tasks like washing dishes - which he insisted on doing, despite Tony's insistence that the machines worked just fine - and the various hours spent just sitting in one spot. He claimed it was calming, so no one complained.

Natasha was good at only showing what she wanted others to see. Clint had already been around her long enough to pick up some habits, but she was still fairly closed off to everyone else. The only thing that had been made very obvious was her dislike for card games. The woman was excellent at them - she could read the most minute facial expressions and could completely shut off any of hers. Steve, ironically, had the best poker face of the lot, but even he hadn't been able to fool her. But she hated them. Vehemently, apparently. Of course, her being Natasha, no one chose to question it too extensively.

The most surprising one, however, was Thor. He hadn't shown up for quite a while after Manhattan, but there had been the whole episode in Greenwich and then he'd come to New York a few days later announcing that he'd be staying on Earth for the foreseeable future. Tony, of course, had had a floor set up since they had fixed the Tower, and the former prince - was he still a prince? Hell if they knew how Asgardian court handled things - had moved in immediately. He seemed to settle in easily and was more than happy to be pulled into all of the standing routines.

No one had anticipated the bi-weekly horror movie showing to be his favorite one.

"The fools! Can't they see the danger lies in the basement? Why would they venture down without reinforcements?"

"Because," Tony tried to explain from where he sat at Pepper's feet, "they're stupid white people in a horror movie. They're not allowed to think things through."

Thor appeared to accept that for a while, staring intently at the screen, seemingly unaware of Clint and Bruce trying to stifle their laughter beside him. It didn't take long for him to become agitated again and only a few moments longer to express it.

"If they have possession of a flashlight, why would they use matches as a light source?"

Tony threw back his head into Pepper's lap with a groan and a carrying whisper of "Help me..." The woman didn't seem sympathetic in the slightest and simply patted his head twice before returning her attention to the movie.

Maybe it was just that everyone had seen their fair share of horrors to be affected by simple movies, but they had all come to a consensus that they were ridiculous and therefore it was necessary to see as many of them as possible. Usually there was a general state of apathy during the whole thing, and it was more of a chance to let mental functioning shut off for two hours than anything else. But then Thor had come, and they had become more of a chance to watch him get steadily more agitated at the characters for their stupidity. It was a little odd sometimes, since he hadn't been around to see the tension in the beginning. Probably easier for him, though, and no one bothered to mention it.

"Is it a customary battle technique to scream and fall over? Are they trying to fool the beasts?"

"I can't tell if he's learned sarcasm or not," Clint muttered to Natasha under his breath. She snorted lightly, pulling her legs up onto the couch and shrugging.

"Seems serious. But he always seems serious, so who knows?" The man grunted, reaching across her to snag a handful of the chips from the bowl perched on the arm of the couch. It was a little spooky to him that Tony had managed to figure out everyone's preference in food, but as long as he kept the fridges stocked, there wasn't much reason to complain.

Thor apparently liked this particular film a lot. He was much more vocal about it than previous ones. Clint wasn't even sure what the plot was - it seemed to have something to do with a haunted basement and a lot of clapping - but the comments were more entertaining than the movie itself.

"Why not simply leave and burn the dwelling to the ground? Surely that would rid it of the demons, if there is nowhere for them to live?"

"He's got a point," Steve cut in, glancing over his shoulder at Tony with a grin. "Why don't they just move out?"

"It doesn't -" Tony sighed melodramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose as if the whole thing were causing him great distress "It doesn't justwork like that; they can't make these things simple, or we wouldn't have a movie."

"But they claim to be based on true events!" Thor reminded them loudly. "Surely real investigators would have better ideas than to wander into the dark after the beasts alone."

"You'd think, right?"

It was strange, really, how comfortable they had gotten on nights like this. Natasha was leaning up against Clint's side, half of her attention on a file in her hand and half on the conversations. Steve and Bruce kept exchanging slightly weary glances and rolled eyes behind Thor's back. Tony kept up a steady stream of sarcastic comments, but he actually seemed relaxed, like he wasn't trying so hard to keep up appearances. Pepper had the air of having adopted a pack of stray puppies that were simultaneously irritating and entertaining as long as they didn't make too big of a mess.

"Who picked this one, anyway?" Clint called, glancing around quickly. "Really, this is the loudest he's ever been, I'm impressed."

"That would be me." Tony waved one hand idly. "The recognition is noted and appreciated."

"Ah, well if it's Tony...might have to redact it; you get enough recognition as it is."

"I resent that, I don't -" The older man blinked and then looked over with a raised eyebrow. "You never call me Tony."

It went relatively quiet. Natasha glanced up a little curiously and Steve was smirking a little, his eyes still on the TV. Clint could feel it getting on the verge of awkward until Thor interrupted loudly.

"Oh, now they are trying to anger the spirits - now they are actually trying to anger them! Who is the one planning these strategies?"

Bruce gave a sudden and surprising burst of laughter. There was a short moment before Steve cracked as well and doubled over, arms on his knees as he tried to stifle it again. Natasha gave a rather weary shake of her head, though her smile was a genuine one as she turned back to the file.

Clint glanced back over at Tony quickly and answered the incredulous look with a slightly resigned shrug. It seemed enough, at least, and everyone had their attention diverted again, which was preferable.

Getting too comfortable with these guys, Barton. That's gonna be dangerous. Hell, though, they hadn't actually tried to kill him yet...and the Tower was a consistent place to sleep with consistent food. As far as he knew, Fury was still determined to keep this little "team" handy. Hell knew what he was planning for, but Manhattan had been a wake-up call. Still, they were hardly a team. Living together didn't just automatically make people whatever immovable force SHIELD wanted. They had come out on top with the Chitauri by a lot of dumb luck, and Clint wasn't sure they could repeat it if something else came up.

Still, it wasn't necessary to just cut and run. He knew Natasha was sticking around if he was, and she hadn't actually murdered any of the others yet. That had to be some kind of act of faith.

No point in leaving yet, he determined. No immediate threat...and hell, they might not be a team, but they were entertaining, at the very least.

He could stick it out a little while longer.