I decided to try Avengers fanfiction. Yay for another reason to not work on my other stories. This story will also have some more chapters, each on dealing with a quirk or two of Clint Barton.

WARNING: We'll have some slash, of course. Pairing will be IronHawk (Tony/Clint) although you can't really see it yet. Rating might get up later.

Disclaimer: I do not own. Marvel does.

The Many Quirks of Clint Barton

It took Tony seven days to figure out that sheltering the Avengers was a remotely bad choice. He would have found out sooner, he was a genius after all, hadn't he been considerably drunk most of the time, mostly due to bad choice of sheltering the Avengers. He went to bed on that memorable day after half a bottle of Single Malt Whisky and laid awake, staring at the ceiling philosophically when it suddenly hit him: those people were fucking maniacs. Without exception. However Tony had to admit that some of them were less insane than the others.

The least crazy one was definitely Bruce. The expert on gamma radiation was wonderful to have around. He rarely talked, leaving more room for Tony to pursue that business which was exactly how the owner of Stark Industries loved it. Banner was also the only one Tony could talk to about scientific and personal things, because he was probably the most understanding and non-judgemental person in existence. The only slightly bothersome thing about Bruce was that he could turn into a giant green rage monster. And as Tony, despite, we mentioned it earlier, being a genius, had awful problems remembering when to stop and every day had to cross the line to recall the fact that there indeed was one, the Hulk made frequent appearances in Stark manor during the past days causing destruction and mayhem wherever the merry green guy went. But Bruce was getting better at tolerating him, although Tony had to swear that he would never let the other scientist drink more than five cups of coffee ever again which was necessary when you worked two days straight to tinker Tony's fancy inventions to perfection.

Then there was Thor. Ohh, he was sweet. Especially when he tried to figure out yet another one of Tony's awesome devices. Or the coffee maker. Or a telephone. Or the Tamagotchi Pepper got him. Yeah, the big guy was quite hilarious. Unfortunately, however, he also tended to break lots of things on his path of understanding how Midgard worked which clearly got on Tony's nerves. And not to forget his voice. That awfully loud, obnoxious voice the blonde used 24/7 to announce the most ridiculous things and that sounded even louder and more obnoxious when the Iron Man was hung-over once again. Really, Thor would have been a wonderful Christian. He could have visited non-Christian countries and proclaim his believes to gather new followers as a missionary. He would have been great, not because he was good at convincing people, but because he would have been the loudest and human beings tend to listen to those who are loudest, no matter whether they are reasonable or not. Being already a demigod, however, would make being a Christian very hard, especially when you're not even mentioned in the bible. Tony still liked the idea.

Next one in the inventor's rating was the Femme fatale currently living on the floor under him. Agent Natasha Romanov alias the Black Widow was, to cut a long story short, a raving lunatic. No matter in what mood she was, she always looked at Tony as if she wanted to kill him. Which she probably did. Tony never so far dared to spar with her, being afraid he would miss a limb or two afterwards. However, her looks made up for a good part of her psychotic slips. If Death looked just a little bit like her, people shouldn't be afraid of passing away. Natasha also knew everything. The Iron Man so far couldn't tell whether this was good or bad, because she knew when he pulled a prank on someone, ate her Russian candy or, even worse, drank her vodka and every time she made him suffer. She locked him up in a closet (which are still remotely spacious and have a TV in Stark Tower, but it's the thought that counts), let Jarvis turn the water cold every time he showered (Tony still had no idea how she managed to convince the AI to do that) and once even kidnapped his favourite car of the day! The woman was plain dangerous in Tony's eyes.

Yet still worse that the Black Widow was Captain America. Steve Rogers was the guardian of public morals and therefore also foe of Tony Stark. Too often they would discuss about who was in charge of the Avengers, who was to leads their future missions or who would get to decide what to watch on TV, as Steve loved watching old-fashioned chick flicks while Tony himself preferred scarcely clad women in action movies. Furthermore Rogers constantly nagged about how all of them, and especially Stark, should improve the their teamwork and the inventor immediately swore to himself to drop the Captain should they ever do this stupid test of trust where one has to stand on a table and let himself fall backwards, hoping desperately for the others to catch him. And to top the great hero of, he wore a ridiculous suit. This blue and red abnormality of spandex was just so laughable, and yet the Captain still had fangirls en masse (well, and Coulson). Tony would dress up in expensive suits that were made by godly italian hands, smile and all woman would lie down to his feet. Then Rogers skips along, pulls off that gentleman stuff from 100 years ago, and off are Stark's women, he had to work for so hard (Really. Being pretty is just that hard.)

That left only one person to receive the first place on Tony's "Top six most insane people living under his roof": the menace for the common welfare himself, Agent Clinton 'Hawkeye' Francis Barton. He was the main reason for the Iron Man's increasing alcohol consumption and Tony couldn't even tell exactly why. Whenever the spy was in the room the inventor started feeling jumpy, something that he never had before and therefore wanted to avoid at all costs. It was probably, because that man had just so many spleens that he should be locked away for good.

First quirk would be that Clint stands up at 5 am in the morning to go on a daily suicide run through the whole fucking city with the Capsicle and Killer Barbie. That itself didn't bother Tony that much, seeing that he was either sleeping of his last bottle of Captain Morgan (the only sort of captain he could still stand) or safely locked up in his lab. No, the bad part was that Barton, even though he was a trained agent and stuff, didn't properly function until 10 am and was thus completely useless and utterly irritating.

On their first day together Tony threw a bowl for his cereals at a so far completely mute Clint, who was currently adding some coffee to his second cup of sugar, thinking that, with his inhuman reflexes the agent had proven to have during the battle with Loki, he would catch it with ease. The clock showed 9:34am, so instead, the bowl hit Clint's shoulder and dropped to the floor with a loud crash, sending its shards all over the kitchen floor. The archer himself merely looked at Tony through glazed steely eyes, blinking (the only kind of emotion seen up to 10 o'clock) and making the billionaire feel even more fidgety with that foggy stare, before Clint gruffly tiptoed around the pieces of porcelain into the living room where he plopped onto the couch to await, so Tony assumed, the blissful diabetic coma.

Natasha later explained to Tony, after forcing him to clean up the mess himself (he had two cuts on his very expensive fingers after that, thank you very much) that Clint, when not on a mission, could sleep like a death and wouldn't leave his bed for days if the Russian wouldn't drill him to their morning run and keeping him up afterwards. Tony asked her why she just couldn't let him sleep so that perhaps Clint might actually be bearable, or at least would not stare at Tony with that weird look, when he is awake, but she just smirked cruelly at him, before patting him on the head twice and elegantly prancing away.

The minute hand in the meantime passed the twelve on Tony's Rolex and Clint sauntered back into the kitchen, empty cup in his left, Bruce's PDA in his right, and cheerfully asked Thor who was happily munching Poptarts, if he wanted to spare.

Like? Dislike? Have some quirks for Clint? Write me!

Cheerio.