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Unlikely Housemates

By: Syntyche

Day One: How to Host a Mystery Dinner

"I really must question your sanity for persisting in embarking upon this ill-advised endeavor, sir," JARVIS said politely, and Tony snorted disdainfully.

"You're always questioning my sanity, JARVIS; makes me think you don't trust me. I'm wounded." Tony put a hand over his arc reactor - not his heart - dramatically; as far as Tony was concerned, the arc reactor was way cooler than his actual heart, and as a bonus it was also on the inside and outside of his body. Neat.

Tony looked again at the box he had been studying. "HOW TO HOST A MURDER." Awesome. It would be a great exercise in teamwork for their very first post-Chitauri dinner; Tony didn't really count the shawarma as a Team Dinner since Steve had fallen asleep in his pita and Clint had finally collapsed from exhaustion and malnutrition and passed out.

"It's perfect," Tony elaborated, watching carefully as the servers laid out beautiful platters and fine china. "We don't even need to create aliases! We've already got a soldier, a scientist, an assassin, a whatever the hell Clint is, a friggin' demigod - you can't make this stuff up!" he said excitedly. "And of course the unfortunate yet devastatingly handsome playboy at the center of the drama … me!" Tony paused thoughtfully. "You know, our adventures would make an awesome movie." He shrugged this thought off and moved ahead with his planning, setting his specially-designed placecards down himself.

This was going to be so cool.

OoOoOoOoOo

Clint's face scrunched up as he noticed the small, decorative placecards on the immaculately laid-out table. "I guess this is your seat … Lady Romanoff," he said gallantly, pulling out the designated chair for her. Natasha gave him a black look but sat anyway. Steve picked up his card and read it with a frown.

"Colonel Capsicle?" he questioned. "That doesn't even make sense. You can't be a colonel and a captain at the same time."

Natasha waved at the chair next to hers. "I assume this seat is yours, Prince Barton."

"What, like from that stupid Costner movie?" Clint snarked, hmmphing into his assigned chair testily. Doctor Thor and Detective Hulk also took their places, and once they were all seated Tony swept into the room like he'd been waiting for a cue.

Which, of course, he had been.

"Thank you for joining me for dinner tonight," Tony announced grandly, ignoring Bruce's soft, "well, it was free," comment. "I'd like to again officially welcome you all to Avengers Tower. Please enjoy your dinner."

Just as Tony sat, the lights went out.

Swiftly, as planned, Tony screeched dramatically and adjusted the fake dagger hilt strapped against his back - his shirt was already dyed crimson. He chomped down on a small pill already between his teeth, letting the fake blood spill out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully laid his head down on his plate, grateful that he had planned to have the lights out before dinner was served so he wouldn't end up with a face full of roasted red potatoes.

Tony schooled his features with great effort and counted down the moments til JARVIS would turn the power back on.

When the lights flicked back on, the first thing the team noticed was that Bruce's water glass was mysteriously missing. And then they noticed Tony facedown in his plate, blood leaking from his mouth and the handle of a dagger protruding from his back.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Clint said testily, breaking the silence. "That's it, I'm moving into the refrigerator box."

"Are we still going to be able to live here if Stark's dead?" Natasha wanted to know.

"Oh, dear God!" Steve shouted, leaping from his chair, but was halted by JARVIS who announced in a surprisingly animated voice,

"Oh dear, it appears Master Stark has been murdered! Please stay back so you don't contaminate the crime scene while I notify the proper authorities." They could almost swear there was a longsuffering sigh in the AI's voice as JARVIS added with overblown suspicion: "But which one of you could have done this?"

"Well, that's not a fair question. Every one of us has a motive," Clint pointed out. Everyone turned to look at him in varying degrees of disbelief and Clint crossed his arms defensively. "What?" he asked. "The guy's an asshole. And it's okay for me to say that since I can be an asshole too."

Tony frowned into his plate. This wasn't turning out at all how he'd planned.

"Well, that's true, you can be," Natasha said, but since there wasn't any disdain in her voice it was practically a declaration of undying love from the cold assassin. Clint

gave her a warm smile and squeezed her hand under the table.

"I feel like we should be more concerned about this," Bruce said, rising from his chair to sort of wander in the prone billionaire's general direction.

JARVIS, really trying to be helpful, said again, a little louder: "But which one of you could have done this?"

"I dunno," Clint shrugged, as he reached for the lid on the platter closest to him. "I wonder what's for dinner," he muttered. Steve and Bruce stared at him, aghast. "What?" Clint demanded again. "Geez. This is the most defensive I've been at dinner since I dated Fury's daughter."

"What?" snapped Natasha, and Clint said hastily,

"But I WONDER which one of us could have done this horrific thing!"

"Who cares!" Natasha snapped, rising from the table in a huff and storming out as she called, "You're gonna be next!"

"You dated Director Fury's daughter?" Steve asked, eyes wide, apparently shocked into forgetting the dead billionaire at the table, and Clint shrugged.

"She only invited me over once." He grinned, his face contorting into the expression of someone trying very hard not to laugh. "Her dad and I didn't see eye to eyes."

It was very quiet at the table for a moment.

Then Tony giggled.

Steve looked on helplessly, clearly confused because he had an "Is this really how we do things in this day and age?" expression plastered across his face. "Tony? We should probably call an ambulance, right?"

"No need!" Thor boomed, forgotten until this moment. "I can shock him back to life with my lightning!"

"All right, this is pathetic," Tony snapped, sitting up quickly. "You guys are the worst group of friends ever! I hate you all!"

"Oh, my God," Clint exclaimed sounding somehow both theatrical and bored, "He's back from the dead!"

Steve's eyes were watering suspiciously. "You consider us friends?" he asked moistly.

"I'm gonna see if this place has HBO," Bruce said, wandering off with Thor in tow. Steve, still blinking wetly, excused himself to follow, leaving Tony and Clint staring at each other over the table. Tony looked so disappointed that Clint felt compelled to say kindly,

"You know Natasha and I knew the knife was fake as soon as we saw it. Otherwise we would have been totally worried you were dead."

Tony cheered a little at that. "I guess I should've known I couldn't fool you two." He looked at Clint curiously. "So … Fury's daughter, huh?" he mused. Clint grinned and Tony groaned. He grinned too, though. "Fury doesn't have a daughter, does he?"

Clint actually laughed. "Nope."

"So you made that up, clearly risking Romanoff cutting your balls off while you sleep, just as an excuse to use that horrible pun in the middle of my murder?"

Clint nodded. "Yup."

Tony grinned widely. "Fucking fantastic. Let the bromance commence! I, Anthony Edward Stark, take you, Clinton Hawkeye Barton, to be my lawfully bonded partner in crime and general tricks and chicanery, in slickness and in stealth, joined together heretofor in the mutual purpose of driving our towermates absolutely batshit crazy both now and forevermore."

Clint somehow managed to stop laughing long enough to add solemnly, "So let it be written, so let it be done."

And thus was the bane of the other inhabits of Avengers Tower formed.

OoOoOoOoOo

Next: Steve and Thor are tasked with the chore of cooking breakfast. It doesn't go well. It's a good thing Clint and Tony are so helpful.

NOW: REVIEW! Please? Even if you don't have any suggestions, it's still nice to know if you think it's funny. :D