Birds of a Feather

About two weeks after the dust settled from Utah, the team had started to let their guards down, now that Loki was dead and no more insane, irate supervillains had popped up yet.

And then we learned that being a worldwide superhero response team means we really shouldn't do that.

Insane villain?

Nope. Try frantic girlfriend.

A~A~A

"Captain Rogers, there's a lady requesting you presence in the lobby. I must say, she is quite insistent."

I look up from my tablet and towards the ceiling where the speakers had just gone silent.

"Jarvis, what's her name?" Steve says from an armchair to my left.

"…a Miss Morse?"

I furrow my brow as I rack my brain for any mention of a 'Morse'.

I don't come across anything, but Steve's face lights up.

"Oh! Tell her not to worry, I'll be right down." He sets his sketchbook and pencils aside as he lifts himself out of the armchair, straightens his t-shirt, and heads towards the elevator.

I send a confused gaze after him.

Why was a lady here to see Steve, of all people? And who was she? Was she dangerous? I wonder what she's doing here.

I shrug and power down my laptop, working my way to the other elevator.

Once on the lobby floor, I work my way into the vents – a habit I picked up from my boyfriend three years before he was my boyfriend – and turn a few corners until I have a prime view of the lobby.

There's a brunette I don't recognize tapping her ridiculously long, ruby-red nails on the reception desk. She was giving everything in sight a snobby, scrutinizing look.

I was really thankful I wasn't in sight.

Right as the receptionist – Alice, nice lady – was about to pick up the phone to alert security, the elevator dings and a super soldier walks out.

The brunette's sour look instantly melts into a too-big, blinding white smile before Steve can see her face.

"Oh, Steve, I was so worried! You left without saying good bye, and then I see on the news Monday that you risked your pretty little face again!" The smile is now a doe-eyed pout.

Steve just sighs and wraps his arms around the woman. "I'm really sorry, Bobbi, but I had to stay safe and then save the world…again. You know me, Captain America and all."

The brunette – Bobbi – smiles slightly and pats Steve's cheek. "Yes, honey, I know. But you couldn't make one phone call to me, your little ol' sweetheart of a girlfriend?"

Wait, what? Since when does Steve have a girlfriend?

Steve frowns slightly and opens his mouth to respond, but he's cut off by the bell above the door tinkling. I smile to see my boyfriend, Clint, walking in with a folder under one arm, his hands full with coffee and his phone, and his gaze locked on said phone.

He usually notices me in the vents, so I get ready to jump out as he looks up.

Then I freeze and scurry back.

He looks like he's seen a ghost. His eyes go wide and his face goes white.

"B-Bobbi?!"

I raise an eyebrow. He doesn't get to say anything to explain much of anything else, because he's smothered by a brunette that isn't me, and his lips are covered by a pair that aren't mine.

Excuuussseee me?!

In my surprise, I fall against the side of the vent with a quiet thump that would have normally alerted everyone in the room to my presence.

Only Steve looks up, because Clint's too busy prying Bobbi off of him, she's too busy smooching my boyfriend, and Alice doesn't care all that much.

I shift away from the side of the vent, giving Steve an uh, what the heck? look as I wiggle my fingers towards the lip lockers.

Steve shrugs as I drop silently from the vents, landing without a sound by Steve's shoulder.

We share a glance full of confusion, slight anger, and irritancy before Steve clears his throat.

Bobby springs off Clint, aided by a heavy palm to her shoulder and another to her sternum and glances back at Steve – still not noticing me – and her face spits into a half-grin.

"Oh! Steve, honey, this is an ex-boyfriend of mine-"

Say what?!

"-Clint! I haven't seen him in years…"

I almost lose my lunch as she strokes Clint's arm with more doe-eyes.

"We worked in the circus together! Back in….oh, what was it, hawky, '04?"

Clint frowns at 'hawky' as he struggles against her nails digging into his bicep.

"'04 then! He's an archer, best aim in the world, and his eyes-"

"Yes, Bobbi, I'm aware." Steve's voice has a rare irritable tint to it. "My question is what in the world that was."

Bobbi displays the biggest puppy eyes I have ever seen – and I work with Steve – as she clutches Clint like a teddy bear. "Oh I'm sorry, I just hadn't seen him in forever…."

"Well obviously, because if you had, you would have known he had a girlfriend!" Steve and Clint exclaim at the same time as Clint finally wrenches his arm out of Bobbi's grasp and rubs at the raw scratches left there.

Bobbi frowns as she glances between Steve and Clint, obviously disbelieving, and opens her mouth.

Before anything can exit said mouth, I smoothly slide out from where I had somewhat disappeared behind Steve.

One of her eyebrows soot into her hairline as I trot forward, straighten my black biker's jacket and white t-shirt, paste on my best pearly 'press smile', and offer a hand.

"Hi there, Bobbi! My name is Taylor, it's so nice to meet you!" I say in an overly cheery voice.

She huffs and gives my hand the evil eye as she looks me up and down.

"Well, you like them young now, don't you, hawky-poo?"

Clint clenches his teeth. "Don't call me that, and she's eighteen!"

"Like I said! Your standards have dropped, hawky, I'm so disappointed."

I swear she used the most condescending voice ever.

Clint snorts. "Really? I'd say they've skyrocketed."

Bobbi looks offended – it's hilarious – as she whirls back towards Steve, who is now leaning up against the reception desk watching this all go down.

"Stevie, honey, help me! Tell him he could do better!"

"Sorry, but Captain America really shouldn't lie."

How much time does Steve spend around my dad?

Bobbi whines and stomps her heeled foot against the marble flooring, finally facing me where I've stepped between her and Clint.

Something in her big green eyes lined with entirely too much mascara snaps as she curls her manicured hands into fists lifts one, and aims it for my face.

I see the punch coming, duck out of the way, and grab her wrist with my prosthetic hand – probably using more force than necessary.

I twist her wrist behind her and press into her back, sweeping her feet out from under her and forcing her to the ground, grabbing her hair and pushing my knee into some important vertebrae.

"Ms. Morse? Bobbi, may I call you Bobbi? Good. My name is Taylor Stark, Iron Beta, daughter of Tony Stark, Iron Man. I'm an Avenger, maybe you've heard of me. Do you know what one of my biggest pet peeves are, Bobbi? People taking things that do not belong to them. Like, say, boyfriends, for instance. I hope you know your life was destroyed – and possibly ended – the moment you touched Clint, let alone kissed him. Got it?"

I pull Bobbi's hair so her head moves in a nodding fashion against the tile.

"Good! Now, about Steve – no, he couldn't call. Not even you, Ms. Pouty Face. If you truly knew Steve Rogers, not the 'pretty little face'-"

"How did you hear that, you little-"

"Check the vents. As I was saying, Steve Rogers – behind the face – would have called as soon as we were all done recovering and he would have made sure you were safe. You could have known that if you weren't too focused on his biceps and butt."

"Are you dating him, too, you snake? It sounds like it."

I tighten my grip on her hair as Steve crouches down by her head. "No, she's not, Bobbi, because not everyone has the same goals as you. Now, Taylor, let her up, I'll help you show her out."

I stand and yank Bobbi up, squeezing her arm in a manner not unlike what Clint received and waiting for Steve to grab her other arm before we drag her to the door and dump her in an unceremonious pile at the doorman's feet.

I hear Steve curtly say something about wanting his possessions back by the end of the week and her having to find temporary residence as I head back inside to be greeted by a nervous boyfriend.

"Taylor! I-I-I…don't…that…" Clint's voice is frantic and his gaze alternates between his shoes and my face.

"Clint, calm down, explain your side."

"Okay." he sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. "That was Bobbi Morse, aka Mockingbird. She was an acrobat, we were in the circus together, and dated for about two months before the circus crashed and burned and S.H.I.E.L.D. found me. I swear she means nothing to me, I honestly thought she was dead, really-"

"Clint, I'm not mad at you."

"Huh?"

I laugh at my boyfriend's adorable confused expression as I walk towards him and rest my hands on his arms.

"I'm not mad at you. Bobbi is at fault here, and she's evil, and had zero right to do what she did. I get people forget about other people, and I trust you one hundred and twenty percent."

Clint sighs and quickly kisses me.

Just as we pull back, my dad appears at the door, winded and oil-stained.

"Jarvis told me there was a confrontation going on down here, is everyone okay?"

"Yeah dad, just…as undesirable. She won't happen again."