The whole heart stopping thing had kind of freaked him out, not that he was going to admit it. Sure, he was used to broken bones and bruises and cuts from falling off buildings, but his heart stopping was not something that was in his normal repertoire of injuries, and nor should it be.

The team seemed to take it seriously, which he understood, considering they were the ones who'd had to perform CPR on him when he was technically dead.

His chest ached in remembrance, and he rubbed at it absentmindedly.

The team also seemed to think that because of the whole heart stopping thing, that he was now a sixty year old man who'd underground a triple bypass and two heart attacks, and needed to carefully watch every bite of food that went into his mouth, which was just ridiculous.

He tolerated it for the first few days, since he did have junk food stocks in a number of strategic places, both around the Tower and at SHIELD, so he wasn't going to starve. And the team seemed to let up after the first week, after he went for a checkup, and the cardiologist proclaimed him healthy.

Clint thought that would be the end of it.

Weeks later, Clint went to help himself to breakfast cereal, only to find his chocolate frosted sugar bombs replaced by bran flakes.

"Guys!" he bellowed, and the rest of the team appeared from wherever they'd been hiding, waiting for him to discover their deception.

He glared at them. "Seriously? I am going to kill you all. Slowly. Painfully. Give me back my cereal."

"Clint, we're concerned about your heart health," Steve said seriously.

"Guys, this was an isolated incident. I didn't have a heart attack. Come on," he pleaded. "If you're going to be on anyone about their eating habits it should be Tony. I mean, really, he's got an arc reactor in his chest and everything. My heart cannot be worse than that, even if it did stop for a bit."

Steve appeared to consider it for a moment, then turned, slowly, to face Tony.

Tony paled.

"Steven Rogers, if you even think about touching my food, Jarvis will make your life miserable," he hissed. "Jarvis, initiate a demo of code Spangly Pants."

With that, Tony turned and beat a hasty retreat, probably to lock himself in his workshop.

"Tony-" Steve began to call, but was cut off when the speakers in the room began playing 'Star Spangled Man'.

The first verse played, and faded out.

Natasha was definitely smirking, even though Clint knew it looked like her normal face to everyone else.

"Okay, fine, Jarvis, tell Tony..."

He trailed off as the music began playing. It played a verse and a half before fading out.

"I am sorry Captain Rogers," Jarvis said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "The demo will last for another 55 minutes. I recommend not speaking for that period, as it is triggered by your voice."

"Highly effective," Clint said, beaming.

He scurried off before anyone else could take up Steve's argument. After all, he still had a box of his cereal in the vents. Somewhere.