Greetings, fine people. This is a bit of a collection of fics, and expect updates every so often. I think there are six or seven little ideas I wrote down, so probably an update eatch day for however many chapters there will be.

Fury sent me out on a solo mission, promising that it was an easy job. It was, but I still managed to cut myself, and narrowly miss getting a bullet lodged in my arm. On the way back to the tower, the medics cleaned me up, and bandaged up my cut. On the bright side, I got a few of the seasoned agents, so they knew what to do so I didn't have to give orders. It was nice to not have to wake up Bruce, or disrupt him, so that he could fix me up.

Once they dropped me off at the tower, I unlocked the front door and walked into the lobby. All the lights were off or dim, and I could barely make out the sign on the elevator. Assuming that it meant that it was closed, I took the stairs. Needing to run off my adrenaline, I sprinted up the many levels of stairs. The kitchen seemed to be empty, so I went and got myself a granola bar, just to supply some calories before I slept. Sleeping on the couch had never sounded like such a great idea before.

Bruce and Tony were awake, because I could hear then down the hall in the lab. They were squabbling over what kind of music they would listen to, Tony obviously wanting to listen to his rock, while Bruce wanted classical. As long as I didn't have to break up a fight between them, physical or verbal, I'd be okay with it. I just wanted to watch some stupid tv show and sleep.

I stretched out on the couch, feeling the side tables for the remote. Someone had accidentally left the tv on, and some children's show with animated ponies started playing. The pink one with the outrageous hair was blabbering on in her really high pitched voice. Giving up on finding the remote, I got up and turned off the tv. Once I laid down though, and stretched my legs across the plush couch, the tv turned back on.

"Really?" I got back up, turned off the tv, and went back to trying to sleep. I repeated this, before I thought of what could be going on. I switched on the lamp, and sure enough Clint was sitting on top of his bookshelf, beer in one hand, remote in the other. He was wearing a very serious look.

"Please stop turning off the tv. I haven't seen this episode of My Little Pony yet, and as much as I love you, I need to watch this show. It is amazing!" I groaned, rolling my eyes. He jumped off the bookshelf and came to sit with me on the couch. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep with my head on his lap, listening to his girly, little kid show.