This is the last chapter, and I'm actually quite sad right now. I love y'all for sticking around and reading my little mess of stuff. Read it, review it, show it to your friends. I'm going to miss writing and updating and seeing your loving reviews in my email. it made me very happy to know that you all read my story.
So there is a poll on my profile to see if you all want a sequel, so y'know...you could vote. Or not.
I still can't believe that my little baby that was once a one little idea that probably would never have become a forty chapter child. I can't say thank you enough. So I'll shut up.
"Tasha, if you don't wake up Steve's going to lecture you on the importance of wearing clothing when you sleep." Clint was trying to drag my blanket away from me, and I was actively trying to keep it. I was cold.
"I don't want to wake up!" I moaned, and rolled to the farthest edge of the nest.
"Fine!" I almost knew for sure that Clint had thrown his hands up in the air and stormed off. Wrapping myself in the blanket, I stole a pillow from the sides of the nest and tried to sleep. When I couldn't get comfortable, I sat up and surveyed the mess we had made. There wasn't much, just a pile of sheets that we slept in.
After changing into some fresh clothing I went to the kitchen for my cup of coffee. Everyone else was already well awake, because now Clint had the newspaper, instead of Bruce. Of course, my husband wouldn't be reading the important news like the economy, or politics. He's be reading the comics.
"I got a call from Fury saying that we need to go out tonight. He said he'd like us to do something useful, like have a campfire, but I think we should go to a strip club. Votes?" Tony said, like he owned the place. I guess he did, but it didn't mean he needed to make himself higher above everyone else. Besides, I could kick his but. Steve's face lit up.
"I haven't had a campfire in forever! I remember when Bucky and I...We used to sing..." He started to tear up.
"Plus we can roast hot dogs! They're way better over a fire than in boiled water or the microwave." Clint added in, taking a sip of his coffee.
"What is a strip club?" Thor asked, flipping his hair over his shoulders dramatically.
A good idea turned into a great idea and soon all six Avengers ended up trying to light a fire. Tony wanted to just blast it with something, probably Thor's lightning, but Steve insisted that they learn how to light a real fire. Clint and I were put on chair duty again, and setting up the table that we were going to put the hotdogs on.
"You need three things to light a fire; Fuel, oxygen, and a spark. Don't be afraid of the fire, Tony. It isn't going to hurt you." Steve cooed, trying to get the brave, fearless, Iron Man to light a fire. Thor was watching from a distance, and you could just tell he wanted to throw his hammer.
Soon enough it was dark outside, and the only illumination we had was from the fire that Steve had started. Tony was telling Thor about the time he had made a fireball. Steve sat at the fire and looked deeply into it, probably remembering all the fabulous times he had spent with Bucky. I sat on Clint's lap, playing with his short hair. Bruce was looking up at the stars.
"Who's ready to cook wieners?" Clint shouted after he got me off his lap. So that's why he was excited about this campfire. He wanted to make bad hotdog puns. Soon everyone was cooking their supper over the fire, groaning at all the bad jokes Tony and Clint were coming up with.
"Tony, can you touch my wiener?"
"It's still cold and squishy. You need to keep cooking it until it's hot and hard." Their banter carried on for a long time, until Bruce spoke up with the best one yet.
''This is my first time doing this and I already managed to burn my wiener." Even though Tony and Clint clapped, the rest of us groaned. Almost immediately after the marshmellows were out and we were roasting those as well. Thor was quite new to this concept and threw in the entire bag though, so we only had the ones we could pick out of the fire without dying. I was convinced we would all get cancer because of the plastic, but no one else shared my worry. Not much longer after I was sitting on Clint's lap, trying to warm up, though Tony was convinced that wasn't why.
"You two realize that we can see you, right? It's not very polite to get it on in front of us without asking." I stuck my tongue out at Tony, then laid my head on Clint's shoulder.
"I thought you said that in this society they're allowed to kiss in public." Thor pointed out. Tony had said that when Thor had asked him why some people were kissing in the streets.
"You and Pepper are just as bad."
"What did you guys do in that horrible looking nest last night?"
"Nothing. We colored for a bit, then fell asleep." Clint said, as I put my head on his shoulder. I was feeling sleepy again. Tony didn't seem to believe us, but went along with our story.
"Can we sing camp songs now?" Steve asked, spinning the stick we used to move the logs around in his fingers, trying to keep the conversation as normal as it can be.
"You're going to have to teach us."
That night I learned songs that told stories of boys and girls sipping soda, an encounter with a bear, something about penguins and bubblegum, and someone's dog named Jelly. Thor thought we were also supposed to sing one of his songs that depicted a great battle, but those didn't seem to be easily taught. So twenty minutes later he had finished his tale of someone doing something heroic.
"Anyone want a beer?" Tony asked, standing by the cooler that was in the back of Bruce's van. He took one out for himself, and another for Clint.
"Natasha, do you want one? I know it's not what you prefer..."
"Are you sure?" I looked Tony squarely in the eye and said no. I put my head back on Clint's shoulder, and closed my eyes.
"Honey, you like to drink, remember?" Clint said softly, grabbing one of my hands in his.
"You guys make me out to be some alcoholic."
"There's nothing wrong with a beer or two every once in a while."
"I don't really want any sort of alcoholic substance right now." Tony and Clint gasped.
"Bruce, what's wrong with her?" Bruce ducked the stone that Tony had thrown to wake him up.
"You're the doctor here! We're doomed!" Tony began to panic. I sighed, acknowledging my defeat. They would have to find out someday. Bruce smiled at me, as if he knew what I was going to say. Well, I guess he did know what I was going to say.
"Babies don't like alcohol." Clint's eyes widened.
"Does that mean your pregnant?" I nodded.
After the kiss that lasted probably too long to make Steve comfortable, Clint whispered three words in my ear.
"I love you."