Muchas gracias for the reviews!

As to the identity of Fluffy, I'm afraid that will have to remain a secret until a later date. ;) In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this next entry! It's my favorite so far.

Entry #12: Manhattan [or, "In Hot Water"]

Clint woke up to the sound of running water. What on earth…? Oh. Nat was probably in the shower. Why did his personal living quarters have to be right next to the bathroom? Although he usually lived alone, so it was not typically a problem.

Yes, that was definitely Nat: he could hear her belting out the lyrics to some Russian song he didn't really recognize.

With a resigned sigh, Clint rolled out of bed and stumbled over to the closet. At a loss for something to wear, he simply grabbed his SHIELD uniform and began to dress himself. That would work in a pinch. It wasn't as if he was leaving the house, anyway. He had a demigod to babysit.

Still only half-awake, Clint ran a hand through his short hair and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. He had made a pact with himself not to fall asleep, fearing what mayhem Loki might cause in the middle of the night, but he had unintentionally broken his vow. Fortunately, everything appeared to be intact.

With a sigh, the semi-conscious agent meandered down the hall toward the kitchen, hungry and grumpy and in dire need of a shower which he would not be getting that morning.

Wearily taking a bowl from the cupboard and pouring himself some cereal, Clint grabbed a spoon and trekked from the kitchen to the dining room.

Someone else was already there.

Loki sat in the chair nearest to the window, an identical bowl resting before him on the table. He looked up as Clint walked in, and gave him a frighteningly cheerful smile. "Good morning."

Clint stopped, stared, and blinked sleepily at the demigod. Loki had changed out of the black 'prison clothes' SHIELD had given him and was now wearing Clint's favorite T-shirt (the one with the words "Instant Human: Just Add Coffee" on it) and a pair of Clint's very-expensive-professionally-distressed blue jeans.

Loki waved with his spoon, and then shoveled in another mouthful of Raisin Bran. Clint fumed, clenched his hands, made a face, counted backwards from ten, and then very carefully set his bowl down on the table, taking a seat directly opposite from the god of mischief. "How," he growled, glaring across the table, "did you break into my closet? You're not supposed to have any super-villain-powers anymore!"

Still smiling pleasantly, Loki poured more milk into his bowl. "They weren't in your closet. They were in the tiny little room at the back of the house."

Clint mentally facepalmed. The laundry room! Of course! The one door they had neglected to put a lock on. After all, they had decided, what mischief could Loki conjure with two mundane stationary appliances and a box of laundry detergent? He had not taken time to consider the possibility of Loki stealing his clothes.

The demigod's long black hair was damp and plastered to the sides of his face. Obviously Natasha had not been the only one to take a shower that morning.

As if Loki knew exactly what Clint was thinking, he said smoothly, "You should know that I used up the last of the shampoo, and also quite inadvertently depleted a bottle of that lovely raspberry-scented 'skin moisturizer' that was sitting on the counter. I assumed you wouldn't mind, since we will be sharing this house for some time."

Clint actually performed a literal facepalm this time, groaning. "You better pay for more shampoo. That was a new bottle! How much did you use?" Then he interrupted himself to add, "And the raspberry body lotion's definitely not mine… I think you just robbed Natasha Romanoff."

Loki shrugged, taking another bite of cereal.

At that moment, a muffled, angry, female voice found its way into the kitchen: "WHEN I FIND OUT WHO USED UP ALL THE HOT WATER SOMEONE IS GOING TO PAY AND IT WON'T BE PRETTY!"

Clint flinched, and Loki stared blankly across the table at him with wider-than-normal green eyes. Clint was not quite sure if this expression simply conveyed some slight surprise at the volume of Natasha's usually subdued voice, or hinted at a completely reasonable fear of what the redheaded SHIELD agent was capable of at 7:30 AM after a freezing-cold shower (and no raspberry skin moisturizer to boot).

Although Natasha's tone of voice somehow managed to strike terror into Clint's heart as well, he realized that he was in the clear and grinned widely at Loki, who had reverted to his usual stoic expression.

"If I were you," Clint advised, "I'd start working on an apology right now. A very long one. With lots of groveling and begging."

Loki did not look at all amused.

An angry Russian assassin and a demigod that smells of raspberries... Welcome to the new and chaotic life of Agent Clint Barton!

~Alassiel