"Agent Barton." It was two in the morning, yet Clint was instantly wide awake when Jarvis spoke quietly into his room. "You asked me to tell you if the woman left her room. As you predicted she would, she is trying to activate the elevator."
"Lucy," Clint corrected, springing out of his bed and going silently down the hallway.
Lucy was standing in front of the elevator, repeatedly slamming the button that would open the doors – if Clint hadn't told Jarvis to disable the elevator's use at his level, that was. He stepped up behind Lucy, slipping his hand over the button, and she jumped, realizing that she'd been caught.
"I wouldn't advise doing that," he said flatly.
"I…" Lucy scrambled to find something to say. "Wanted to get some fresh air."
"Roof's that way, up a flight of stairs," Clint said, nodding towards an inconspicuous door on the other side of the room. "Stark gave me the highest level, and it's a lot easier to access Mother Nature that way than by going down through the elevator. Problem with that is, the only way you get out of this tower via the roof is by jumping off and – in your current form – that would be suicide." Lucy didn't say anything. "I'm not stupid. Get back in bed and we can pretend this didn't happen."
"I think I'd prefer suicide," she muttered.
"Hey, I couldn't care less whether you live or die, but I don't want to have to tell Thor that I lost you and you're free to the world. You do realize, right, that you can't leave earth? You have no magic, no means, and I'm pretty sure the only things you own are in that bag from Pepper. If you took it with you when you ran, you might be able to sell what's in it for twenty dollars, if you're lucky. After that money ran out, the only thing that you'd have left to sell is your own body, and I'm pretty sure that's not what Odin had in mind when he sent you here like this, am I right, Angel?"
Lucy just glared at him for another long moment before ducking under his arm and going back to her room.
"Lock her in, Jarvis," Clint ordered, heading back to his own bedroom while steam started rolling off of him.
"Perhaps the objective here ought to be to lock you out, sir?" Jarvis asked. "For the sake of Lucy's safety?"
Clint decided it was okay to be childish at the moment and pulled the covers of his bed all the way over his head as he answered, "Shut up, you stupid robot."
"Let me out of this room, you idiotic, worthless AI!"
Although Clint didn't generally like being woken up, when it was to the dulcet sounds of Lucy screaming at Jarvis, he found he didn't mind so much.
"Go ahead, Jarvis. Better yet, tell her you'll let her out if she'll make breakfast for me," Clint muttered, crawling out from underneath his covers.
"I doubt she knows how to cook, Agent Barton."
"Not the point."
"As you wish."
"Thanks; just warn me if you think she's tried to poison my food."
By the time Clint was dressed and heading down the hallway, that wasn't an issue, since the smoke alarm was already going off.
"Morning, Angel," Clint said, trying not to crack a smile as he noticed how much smoke was rolling around his stove. Apparently Lucy in the kitchen could work better than coffee some mornings at the "putting Clint in a good mood" factor. "You know that's not really how cooking is supposed to work."
"It was the stupid eggs' fault!" Lucy growled.
Clint crept over to the stove and looked into the pan full of something that was unrecognizably crispy, asking, "Those were eggs?"
"Once upon a time."
"Why are they green?"
"They did that on their own, you have my word."
Clint almost choked he had to try so hard not to laugh. "Is that even possible?"
"Ask the eggs! I don't cook, Barton."
"Obviously," Clint said, transferring the pan into the sink and grabbing a chair so that he could reach the blaring smoke alarm on the ceiling. Reveling for a second in the sudden silence once the alarm was off, he then jumped from the chair to the floor and said, "I guess you can always try again tomorrow morning."
"You're kidding," she said darkly.
"We'll see," Clint shrugged. "For today, it looks like we're back to my old faithful."
He went to the cabinet and pulled out a box of cereal.
As Lucy poured herself a bowl, she informed him, "You are a horrible person; I am not your servant."
"Actually, you are, and if I have to put up with you being here, then I will be taking full advantage of that fact."
"I have to put up with you too!"
"You tried to kill me."
"You want to kill me."
"Yeah, you started it; now I get to finish it."
"That's childish."
"That's karma."
"I think karma hates me."
"Well, welcome to what I like to call 'real life,' where we hate our dinner companions, have bad hair days, make our own breakfast, and generally don't like our lives."
Lucy rolled her eyes.
"What are you going to do today?" Clint asked.
"Stay in my prison, I assumed."
"I've got to go into work, but Jarvis and Thor are always here with eyes open. The library is all yours if you want it. I have less than no purpose for that place, but Pepper told me I couldn't turn it into a target practice room."
"Prudent of her, I'm sure."
"I'd like to see you shoot an arrow and make a perfect bull's-eye at sniper's length away."
"That's not what I meant; stop being so touchy."
"I'm touchy?" Clint said. "I am not the hormonal woman in this room."
"Shut up, Barton."
And he did. Life with Lucy was fun for him when he could get under her skin, but it was so much easier in silence, and since it wasn't even seven in the morning, he could definitely choose to do "easier" at the moment.