Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any of the characters affiliated with them. If I did, there would totally be a Hawkeye/Black Widow movie in the works.

Author's Note: While I embrace constructive criticism, remember this old saying if you choose to leave a review "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all"

Copyright Notice: Please do not copy or repost my work without my expressed permission. I have recently discovered an issue with plagiarism, in that another person had copy/pasted my work and was claiming it as their own on another site. I've dealt with the situation, but I plead with readers to keep an eye out on other sites. If you see something of mine on another site other than the following, it is NOT me. Please inform me immediately! I am published on AO3 under the name Aggie2011 and tumblr under the name aggie2011whoop. Thanks for looking out y'all!

We are back! If you're in the States HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY! My husband is in the Navy, so today is especially special (say that 5 times real fast :P) to me. I also have created a tumblr account that is completely dedicated to the Vantage Point Universe. It has character profiles, an intricate timeline, and fan art! I'm working to get all the stories posted there too, it's just taking some time. Go check it out and follow it! my username there is aggie2011whoop (aggie2011 was taken by someone who doesn't even have any content posted :[ )

This is just a fun little one-shot that's meant to make you laugh. I'm hoping - emphasis on the 'hoping' - to be able to publish something new every month, even if its just a fun little one shot like this one :D I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Special thanks to Kylen my number one beta. I asked her one day, hey, if I were to crank out a one-shot just for fun, what would you want to see? And she was like "something with Thor" and then added "something where Clint has to teach him something, or explain something"...and I was like - Clint teaches Thor to cook...done. And here we are :D

Also thanks to JRBarton who is my third set of eyes on every fic :D This author couldn't ask for a better team in her corner.

Now, have a laugh on me...

Love – real love – can't be defined. It just is.
Elizabeth Scott

February 13, 2013
4:34 p.m.

Clint shifted, lowering his body out slowly out of the handstand he'd been holding. He bent his elbows slightly, lowering his chin towards the floor even as he bent his knees, lightly bracing them along the back of his upper arm. He blew out a slow, even breath and kept his eyes closed. Beyond the physical challenge, this was supposed to be calming. That's what Natasha had insisted the first time she'd talked him into doing the complicated yoga routine with her. Clint hadn't yet found whatever 'calm place' he was supposed to go to while they moved through the poses.

They'd been doing yoga together for well over three years.

But lack of 'happy place' aside, it was a hell of a workout. And Clint stood by that, no matter what Tony said.

Next to him, Natasha rested in an identical pose, hair pulled back in a messy pony tail, and her face the picture of serene calm.

Neither of them moved when heavy footfalls approached. It was Thor, Clint could tell by the gait. Heavy steps, but confident and determined as well. Not like Bruce, who walked like he was surrounded by eggshells. And Tony, who walked like he was a puppy in a room full of new toys. Steve walked with determined intensity most of the time, but with cautious shyness when the scrawny little good ol' boy from New York was peeking through. And Natasha, well, even if you were looking right at her, you wouldn't hear her footfalls, silent but oh so deadly.

Thor paused in front of Clint, standing silently for a long moment. Clint could feel the Asgardian studying him.

"Your ability to hold yourself with such balance inspires me with awe, noble archer…as does your ability to do the same, Lady Natasha."

Neither of them responded, but instead moved in practiced synchronization into their next pose.

"Your movements are as if you were of one mind," Thor praised with awe in his tone. "Tell me, how did you come to be in such tune with one another?"

Instead of answering, because that was a question with a hell of a lot of answers, Clint got to the point, opening his eyes to look up at the alien god.

"You need something, Thunder Dome? Or did you just stop by to pay us compliments?"

Thor chuckled deeply, crouching to be closer to eye level with Clint.

"The humor with which you speak amuses me greatly, noble archer."

Clint shook his head slightly as he and Natasha moved in tandem to a new position. Thor was a beast of a man, as fierce as they came, and ruthless when it was needed…but he was always so damn kind and polite. Clint had never met anybody like him. And people called Clint a walking contradiction. You didn't get more contrary than a hammer-wielding, warrior god who went out of his way to compliment his friends at every turn. He didn't bother responding the Asgardian, waited instead for him to explain what he needed.

"I do, in fact, have but one request to make of you."

Clint tilted his head so he could meet Thor's gaze, and arched an eyebrow in question.

"As you know, I leave to visit my Jane this very evening, with the purpose of being with her to celebrate the day of your saint Valentine on the morrow."

"He's not my saint," Clint put in under his breath. Thor either didn't hear him, or ignored him. But Natasha shot him a quelling glare.

"I utilized the world wide web to find what would be considered the most romantic way to celebrate with my Jane."

"It's just called the internet," Clint corrected with a huffed chuckle.

"Yes, well, I come to inquire as to one of the romantic suggestions I happened upon."

Natasha coughed a poorly concealed laugh, eyes closed again as they shifted to the next pose.

"And what makes you think Clint knows anything about romance?"

Clint glared at her, and though her eyes remained closed, she smiled…as if she could feel it and was amused by it.

"You complaining?"

"Just pointing out that he could be talking to a better source." The teasing grin on her face took any insult out of the words.

"Guess I'll take back that new holster I got you, then."

"Holster?" Thor questioned in confusion.

"It's for her favorite Makarov," Clint explained with a glance at the blonde god. Thor nodded slowly as Clint looked back to Natasha.

"That's how you spell romance? With gun powder and bullets?"

"Hell, just speaking your language, Tash."

The smile she shot him now was genuine and lacked any sort of teasing.

"If I may…" Thor interjected, drawing Clint's attention back to him.

"Right, fire away, Big Guy. What's on your mind?"

"In my searching, I came upon a list that seemed to be quite thorough."

"What was the site?" Natasha asked cautiously.

Clint waited for the answer, too. Who the hell knew what Thor might have stumbled on?

"I believe it was titled 'Cosmo'."

Clint snorted, grinning at the mental image of Thor leafing through a Cosmo magazine.

"And what did Cosmo have to say?" he asked, shifting position once again.

"In the '10 ways to seduce a woman' it suggested utilizing a skill for which you, my friend, possess quite the talent."

Clint blinked, glancing at Natasha. She arched an eyebrow and couldn't hold back a smirk. He looked back at Thor. This could be going in a direction he did not want to travel.

"Tell me you're not talking about –"

"Cooking?" Thor finished with an enthusiastic nod. "Yes, that is exactly what I am speaking of. How did you know?"

Clint exchanged another glance with Natasha and barely held back a laugh.

"Oh, just a lucky guess, I suppose."

"The Cosmo states preparing a meal for she which one loves is a 'recipe for romance.'"

Clint barely held back a laugh at the earnest look on Thor's face. Instead he grinned triumphantly.

"Ha! I cook for you all the time." He shot at Natasha. "How's that for romance? Cosmo says so."

She fixed with him with a dry look.

"You cook for the rest of the team all the time too…so nice try, but no. Doesn't count."

Clint narrowed his gaze.

"I think it's a little different with you…remember that time in St. Petersburg? Pretty sure naked cooking has never come into play here in the tower."

"Again," Thor interrupted politely, "if I may…"

But for the moment, they both ignored him.

"We'd just had to swim through a river in the middle of winter….it was either strip or die from hypothermia," Natasha shot back. "Hardly what I'd call a 'recipe for romance.'"

"That's not the tune you were singing after I made you that chicken parm you love so much. If memory serves, you were actually quite vocal…"

"If I may!" Thor tried again, his voice booming a little as he tried to gain their attention once more.

They both fell silent and looked at him, waiting.

"My apologies," Thor began. "I did not mean to raise my voice."

"No worries, Thunder Cat." Clint rolled out of his current pose and shifted to sit Indian style in front of Thor. "Now what were you asking?"

"Would you help me?" Thor asked, eyes lighting hopefully.

"Would I help you what?" Clint asked blankly.

"Cook. Would you educate me as to how one would go about preparing a meal? I would very much like to learn so I may prepare one such meal for my Jane tomorrow in celebration of the day of your Saint V-"

"Valentine, right…got it." Clint waved a hand to show Thor his understood and he could stop explaining.

"I assure you, I will be the most diligent learner. Never before would you have had more willing a student."

"Well I've never really had any student besides Natasha so the bar isn't really that high…uh, ow." He gingerly rubbed at the back of his head where her foot had impacted as she shifted into a new pose.

"Sorry, my bad." She smirked and played at returning her complete focus to the yoga she'd continued even after Clint had stopped.

"So," Thor cleared his throat, eyes twinkling a little at Clint's expense he was sure, "will you?"

"Teach you?" Clint rubbed absently at a scar hidden on the underside of his jaw, put there almost a year and a half ago now courtesy of Natasha's former boy toy Alexi.

"Yes." Thor nodded earnestly.

"To cook?"

"Yes."

Clint pursed his lips, as if he were contemplating his answer deeply. He really had no problem teaching Thor a few things. But the longer he hesitated, the more Thor's expression resembled a begging puppy and he couldn't help but be amused.

A bare foot jabbed at his ribs.

He slid a sideways glare at Natasha, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were closed, a look of utter concentration on her face. Clint narrowed his eyes and briefly entertained the thought of nudging her so she'd topple out of the insanely intricate and balanced pose she was in.

He heard Thor draw in a breath, no doubt to either tell him to forget it or try to regain his attention one more time.

"Sure, Shakespeare, meet me in the kitchen in a half hour."

"You have my deepest and truest gratitude, my friend." Thor reached to clap Clint on the shoulder, nearly knocking him over. "I will see you in one half of an hour."

Then Thor was walking away, the same determined purpose in his steps that Clint had come to expect.

"Do you realize what you just got yourself into?" Natasha grinned as she eased out of her current pose and relaxed into a cross-legged position. "Thor? With kitchen appliances?"

"It won't be that bad," Clint wasn't able to hold back a grin of his own. "I'll be there to keep him from burning the tower down."

"But you won't be there to keep him from burning Jane's house down."

Clint arched an eyebrow.

"Should we warn her?"

30 minutes later…

Clint entered the kitchen to find Thor already waiting, arms crossed over his chest.

"Ready?" Clint asked as he nodded in greeting.

"I am most prepared. Where shall we begin?"

"Well, the first step to any good meal is deciding what the hell you want to make…so…what do you want to make?"

Thor's response was immediate and precise.

"Chicken that has been fried, potatoes of mash and chocolate cake."

Clint blinked, arching an eyebrow at the quick reply.

"That is Jane's favorite meal," Thor explained with a sheepish shrug.

Clint nodded.

"Okay then, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and chocolate cake it is." He clapped his hands together and grinned. "Ready?"

Thor nodded enthusiastically.

"All righty, you're gonna need potatoes, butter, chicken, flour…" Clint continued to list ingredients as he helped Thor gather them. Once they had everything they needed, Clint handed Thor the potato peeler and set aside a knife himself.

"First thing we're gonna do is peel and cut the potatoes. They have to be cooked before we can mash them and that can take a while. So, take the peeler and have at it."

Thor weighed the peeler in his hand and then looked at the potato he'd picked up. Very slowly he brought the two together and dragged the peeler along the skin of the potato.

All he peeled off was a layer of brown dust.

"Press a little harder than that, and watch out for your fingers. It's harder to slice yourself with a peeler, but it's not impossible..."

Thor pressed the peeler down harder as he tried again. He managed to cut away chunk of the skin –but also to dislodge his own grip on the potato, sending it sliding right out of his hand. It hit the handle of the knife Clint had set out for himself, sending it careening off the edge of the granite. Clint caught the knife as it fell, fingers finding the flat of the blade with the ease of a lifetime of handling similar weapons. Meanwhile, the potato went bouncing across the counter, knocking over a pepper shaker and then rolling into the sink with a clatter.

For a moment he and Thor both stood there frozen. The Asgardian's expression could only be described as sheepishly embarrassed. And Clint, well, he was doing his level best not to bust out with a laugh at the alien-god's expense.

Clint was the first to move, flipping the knife so he held the handle instead of the blade and reaching for the potato in the sink.

"Maybe not quite that hard." He handed the potato back. "Try to find a balance between giving it a gentle massage and gouging out a chunk of its flesh."

The sideways glance Thor shot him – filled with humor and amusement at his own expense – made Clint grin.

He watched Thor try once more, this time with success. "There you go. Now peel away all the brown, rinse it and set it aside. We'll cut them when they're all peeled."

Thor nodded, brow furrowed in concentration as he continued to peel. Clint picked up a potato for himself and expertly used his knife to peel it. Once finished, he rinsed it and set it on the counter. He reached for another potato and started again.

He paused when he realized Thor was absolutely still. Very slowly, he glanced up to find the Asgardian watching him closely.

"You are quite skilled with a blade, noble archer."

Clint shrugged, motioned for Thor to keep peeling, and returned to his task.

"I've been playing with knives since I was a kid," he offered by way of explanation.

"I was trained with knives," Thor replied absently as he continued to peel his potato with meticulous precision. "But I always favored blunt force."

Clint smirked. That sounded about right.

"So it's always been you and the hammer?"

Unexpectedly, Thor shook his head, replying even as he proudly showed Clint his peel-less potato.

"I was not given the hammer until I became a man, I believe by earth age I would have been…ten years and five. Until that time, I used a club crafted from the wood of the strongest tree in Asgard." He carefully rinsed his potato and set it down near the one Clint had already finished. He picked up another and began again. "Though in that time, my father had not spoken his spell over my Mjolnir…had he, I am certain I would not have been able to wield it, for even then my heart was ruled by pride and thirst for battle." He shook his head and blew out a sigh. "Would I could speak to my younger self and set him on a better path."

"Yeah, but you do that…maybe you never get sent to Earth by daddy dearest." Clint shrugged and rinsed his peeled potato, adding it to the collection on the counter. He reached for the last one, mentally challenging himself to finish peeling it before Thor finished the one he was working on. "Maybe you never meet Jane…never become an Avenger. The past – even the shitty parts – is what gets us to the present, what points us toward a future."

Clint didn't often think about changing the past, but when he did, his thoughts always went to one moment…Phil. If he could change anything, it would be to save Phil. He'd take every part of his own crappy, painful history if it meant Phil got a future.

Thor's mouth quirked into a grin at the mention of Jane, unaware of Clint's mournful thoughts.

"Your words are wise, my friend. You should use them more often than you do."

Clint paused, knife midway through its path down the length of the potato. Not sure what to say in the face of the compliment, he just did what he did best – said nothing, and continued to peel.

He heard Thor release a sound that seemed to be halfway between a chuckle and a sigh, but mercifully didn't pursue the compliment further.

They finished their potatoes at the same time.

"What comes next?" Thor asked.

"Slice and dice." Clint retrieved two large knives from the fancy knife bock, and held one out hilt first to Thor.

"This," Thor grinned and took the knife, "I will enjoy."

Clint figured, as he watched Thor carefully dump the freshly cut potatoes into the pot and then move to add water, that it should be counted as a win that nobody lost a finger. The first potato Thor had gone after with the knife, had rolled away because he was too gentle. The second attempt embedded the knife in the cutting board.

Clint had bit his lip to keep from laughing and let Thor work it out for himself.

They'd made it through with no further incident and now it was time for cake.

"It was my understanding that cake was what one called a 'dessert,' which traditionally comes after the meal." Thor hefted the pot of potatoes over to the stove and carefully turned it on, looking to Clint for confirmation that he'd done it correctly.

Clint gave him a nod.

"It is a dessert, but you don't have to cook in the order that you eat. We're gonna do the cake now so that it can be in the oven while we make the meal. Then it can cool while we eat and be ready for icing by the time dessert rolls around."

Thor nodded, not arguing with the logic.

"Okay…so, first, flour…" Clint pointed at the fresh bag of flour on the counter. Before he realized what was happening, Thor grabbed it and tore it open.

The white explosion was actually quite impressive in its size. Clint, thanking his lucky stars that he was far enough away to only get a dusting, masked a laugh behind a cough as he looked Thor up and down.

The warrior-god's entire face and torso was painted a chalky white. He reached to carefully wipe his eyes even as he coughed.

"Yeah, you're gonna want to open that carefully," Clint added uselessly and with a grin he wasn't able to keep at bay.

"Yes." Thor coughed again. "It would seem."

The measuring went much smoother, as did the adding of the rest of the dry ingredients.

When it came time for the eggs, Clint realized belatedly that he should have seen what came next coming a mile away.

"So you're just gonna crack the egg into the bowl."

Thor delicately picked up an egg and looked to the bowl. He then proceeded to crush it in his hand and drop the shell-infested mess into the bowl.

Clint could only stare and blink blankly.

"Yeah…I set myself up for that one." He reached to fish out a large piece of shell. "Egg shell, not so great to bite into…"

Thor looked stricken, realizing now that he'd done it wrong.

"Don't sweat it. That was my bad. And the first time I baked something, I forgot to add the sugar and it came out tasting like dirt…so this? No big deal."

It took several minutes to retrieve all the pieces of shell. Several frustrating minutes. But eventually they were able to move on.

"Try it like this," Clint cracked an egg on the side of the bowl and split the shell with his fingers, letting the egg white and yolk fall into the bowl. "I should have showed you that from the beginning." He held out an egg to Thor. "Give it a shot."

Thor duplicated Clint's example almost exactly, though he was so careful not to smash the egg too hard, that it took several knocks against the bowl to yield a result.

"Just use your thumbs…." Clint coached, "good, now toss the shell and we can move on."

"I do believe I am learning the way of this." Thor smiled proudly.

"Well you're not sucking at it," Clint agreed.

A few minutes later he'd guided Thor through the last of the ingredients and helped him use the stand mixer. The cake got put into the oven without further incident.

"See? Easy as pie." Cling tossed Thor a smirk, and waited for the inevitable confusion. He wasn't disappointed.

"Pie? I thought we had prepared cake?"

Clint nodded in approval at the fully broken down chicken on Thor's cutting board.

"I'm impressed."

"Yes, well, in my youth we hunted a feathered creature called a Winsnope. Its preparation was much like this."

Clint nodded and motioned at the bowls of flour and eggs they'd already prepared.

"We're gonna season the meat then it's into the eggs then into the flour, okay?"

Thor nodded dutifully.

Clint seasoned the chicken himself, needing to be certain it was going to be edible, and then let Thor loose with the eggs and flour, but not without suggesting he keep one hand for the flour and one for the egg. Even with that advice, a few minutes later Thor was examining his hands with a look of revulsion and attempting to scrape off the eggy-flour paste that had coated them.

"This practice is quite disgusting," he commented with a scowl.

"I don't know anybody that's a fan of that part," Clint admitted. "But it'll be worth it."

"And now I place it in this pot of oil you prepared?"

"Yes, and carefully. Slow and steady keeps you from getting an arm full of hot oil and trust me when I say that's no picnic."

Thor nodded seriously and with almost comical care placed each piece of coated chicken in the pot, marveling as the oil bubbled in response.

"Now that is quite fascinating."

"It's a marvel," Clint deadpanned as he busied himself checking the potatoes. Finding them not quite ready, he moved the fridge. "Want a drink?" He retrieved a blue Gatorade for himself and then tossed Thor a questioning look.

"I quite like the crisp taste of the water you on earth contain in a bottle."

"Water bottle it is," Clint muttered mostly to himself as he retrieved one from the shelf and tossed it to the Asgardian. Thor caught it with little effort and leaned sideways against the counter.

"Now we wait?" he asked curiously.

"Now we wait," Clint confirmed. He slid onto one of the bar stools and braced his elbows on the island counter. He picked at the label on his Gatorade and idly wondered if Tony had picked another movie to show tonight. Ever since their unfortunate experience in South Africa, the genius billionaire had taken it upon himself to educate Clint in every genre of cinema.

So far he'd learned that "Rom-Coms" – as Tony called them – were great for napping. Comedy of ten or more years ago was funnier than anything modern. Action movies, while entertaining, were largely implausible. The characters in horror/thrillers were often idiotic. And children's cartoons were oddly soothing – so far Robin Hood was his favorite of those. Though as far as Tony needed to be concerned, Clint only tolerated the other man's Disney fetish.

He'd seen some movies coming into this – despite Tony's belief that he hadn't even known what a 'moving picture' was until he met Tony. Phil had shown him Terminator once and all of the Lord of the Rings. There had been others here and there, usually when he'd been laid up in the infirmary and Phil hadn't wanted to sit in silence while Clint read whatever book he was in the middle of.

The thought of Phil had him frowning, and had his thoughts straying to darker places. It was that distraction that kept him from processing Thor's words for several moments, even then, he didn't really comprehend their meaning.

"What's that?" he asked with a blink, and a vaguely apologetic quirk to his lips.

Thor, not seeming bothered at all, spoke again.

"I asked if you think it will work?"

"Do I think what will work?" But even as he said it, he realized. "The cooking?"

Thor nodded, gulping down nearly half of his water bottle in one go.

"Do you think it will provide sufficient romance as woman such as Jane would expect on the day of the saint Valentine?"

Clint shrugged one shoulder, sipping his Gatorade.

"You heard Tasha. What the hell do I know about romance? It's not really my thing."

Thor's brow furrowed.

"I must disagree."

Clint felt an eyebrow arch and couldn't help but scoff a laugh.

"Come again? You ever seen me carting around flowers or waxing poetic?"

Thor frowned thoughtfully.

"Well, no. However, I do not believe 'carting flowers' and 'waxing poetic' is how Lady Natasha defines romance." Clint was unconvinced and Thor gave him a patient smile before continuing, "Your love for her is written in every action you take. It is in the small things that seem as if they matter not." Thor gave him a knowing look. "That mixed snack she always carries with her? Do you not make that out of love? Is that not romance?"

Clint narrowed his gaze.

"Love is for children."

Thor smiled, all of the tower's occupants no doubt familiar with the phrase.

"Then I am a child," he replied easily. "For I love my Jane."

Clint couldn't help but shake his head in slight awe. Thor would shout that from the rooftops without hesitation if given half an opportunity. And Clint couldn't help but be a little jealous of that abandon. He and Natasha lived in shadow, their entire lives – their survival – hinged on secrecy and subtly. Shouting from the rooftops had never been an option, still wasn't. There were too many enemies watching, waiting for a weakness to be revealed. And even if that weren't the case, what would he even shout? 'Love' just didn't seem to cover what he felt for Natasha, didn't even feel like it came close.

Thor's smile was warm now, and full of understanding.

"We all love in different ways. If we are truly blessed in this life, we find someone who understands how we love and finds a way to return that love in a way that we understand. One has but to watch you and Lady Natasha together to know that you understand each other on a level that no one else could ever comprehend. I only hope to one day achieve such depth and devotion with my Jane."

Clint chewed the inside of his lip and focused his attention on the partially peeled wrapper on his Gatorade. Damn, did the god have a way with words.

"I have spoken out of turn and caused you discomfort." Thor sighed. "I oft forget the world of shadow to which you are so accustomed. The world of secrecy in which you oft must still reside." Clint raised his eyes to Thor's in shock. He'd practically echoed Clint's own thoughts from only moments ago. The warrior-god was so goddamned perceptive sometimes it was scary.

"You should check the chicken. It's probably done."

It was one of his go-to moves – deflection. He handed Thor the skimmer and then watched him chase the chicken around the pot in an attempt to fish it out. Once he had all the pieces out and cooling, he turned to Clint with an arched eyebrow.

"Check the potatoes by stabbing them with a fork, if they break up easily, they're done."

Thor picked up the fork Clint had used for the same purpose earlier and jabbed at the floating pieces of potato.

"I believe they are fully cooked."

"Great, pick up the pot…" Thor reached for the handles with his bare hands. "WITH the towel on the handles." Clint added quickly before the Asgardian could make contact. Thor shot him an 'Ah, right' look and obediently used a towel on each handle and shifted the pot off the burner.

And in doing so dragged the edge of the towel across the open flame. The towel ignited, bright orange flames suddenly dancing along the bottom edge, and quickly licking their way up.

At first, Clint just stared, mouth slightly gaping.

"OH!" Thor exclaimed in surprise. He stepped in multiple directions, indecisive about what to do since he still had the pot full of boiling water and potatoes to deal with. "Ahhh…fire, the towel is on fire…Archer? What…what should I.."

Clint couldn't hold back his laugher anymore and just pointed at the sink.

Thor took two large steps and deposited the pot on one side of the sink, dropping the towel down on the opposite side of the divide. Clint, who'd followed him, flipped on the water and doused the flames.

"Well," he clapped a frazzled-looking Thor on the shoulder, "I guess we can consider that your trial by fire."

Natasha wasn't sure what she expected when she followed Tony and Pepper into the kitchen, with Bruce trailing behind. Maybe she was expecting singed walls or burnt food. She was pleasantly surprised when instead of smoke, her nose picked up on the familiar scents.

"Oh…my…God." Tony stated slowly as he abruptly erupted in a fit of raucous laughter. Beside him, Pepper started giggling. Curious now, Natasha nudged her way past them and took in the scene.

The bark of laughter escaped without her consent, but really, she didn't think she could be blamed.

Clint had his elbows braced on the counter a look of something like a mixture of chagrin and humor painted across his expression. Thor was standing stock still, a hand mixer in his hand and hovering just above a large bowl.

Both of them were covered in a layer of what looked like deliciously creamy mashed potatoes.

Thor looked like he had a dusting of…flour? Beneath that.

A sudden sound of a shutter had her glancing at Tony. He was grinning madly and adjusting the screen on his phone. The dry glare Clint leveled at him was forever immortalized in the next picture.

Thor, seeming to recover from his shock, grinned widely at them.

"My friends! Dinner is freshly prepared! Please, take your seats at the table and allow us to serve you."

"Are you serving it or wearing it?" Tony teased, though he headed to the table without further prompting.

"You'll be wearing it if you don't sit down and shut up," Clint shot back.

"No food fights," Pepper scolded.

"Is something burning?" Bruce asked as he edged towards the sink, only to be nudged away by a sheepish looking Thor.

Natasha narrowed her eyes and moved to Clint's side, grinning as she watched him scrape away some of the potatoes on his face.

"Interesting afternoon?" she asked lightly.

"Oh, you could say that." Clint chuckled. "There will be a few less potatoes than we were hoping for, but otherwise it should all be edible."

"And everyone is unscathed?" she tossed a glance at the charred towel in the sink.

"More or less." Clint shrugged.

"You go sit as well, Archer, I will bring the food." Thor commanded with a stern look. "This was my undertaking and I intend to see it through."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Clint moved with Natasha to the table and sat.

A moment later Thor grandly placed the plate of chicken and bowl of potatoes on the table.

"I present chicken of the fryer and potatoes of mash. Enjoy, my friends."

Tony picked up a piece of chicken, eyeing it critically.

"You did this all on your own, Shakespeare?"

Thor shot a look at Clint, who gave him a single, encouraging nod.

"Under the guidance of our noble archer, yes, I have prepared this meal and tomorrow will prepare it for Jane to celebrate the day of your sai-"

"Saint Valentine." Bruce, Tony, and Pepper all chorused at once, making Natasha wonder how many conversations Thor had instigated concerning Valentine's Day before ending up asking Clint for help.

"Well…" Tony cleared his throat and eyed the chicken warily, "you only live once I suppose…"

And he took a bite.

"Good." He took another, larger bite, speaking around the mouthful of food, "very good."

It seemed to be the cue everyone was waiting on because they all started digging in.

Thor tied back his drying hair as he made his way into the kitchen, freshly showered and finally clean of all remnants of food. He paused in the doorway, hearing voices. A smile came to his face as he recognized them.

"You don't have to help with this," Clint insisted quietly.

"You don't have to do it in the first place," Natasha replied in the same soft tone.

There was the sound of running water and the clink of dishes tapping against each other. Carefully, Thor eased around the doorway, confirming what he'd heard.

Clint and Natasha stood side by side at the sink, dishwasher open next to Natasha. Clint rinsed a plate and handed it to her, and she placed it in the washer. And the process started again.

"Well, Thor needed a shower so he can head out. Pepper has an early meeting, Bruce managed to vanish right around clean-up time and have you ever seen Tony even touch the dishwasher?"

Natasha laughed lightly.

"You could use a shower too, you know."

Without warning, she reached and splashed her hand through the stream running from the faucet, sending water sloshing over Clint's shirt.

She bit her lip to contain her laughter while Clint just slowly shook his head. Then he was suddenly in motion, grabbing the sprayer and pointing it at her. A second later she was shrieking as she was drenched.

Thor barely held back his own chuckle as he watched them battle over the sprayer, dishes forgotten. How Natasha ended up with it, he wasn't quite certain. She wiped her fingers gently over Clint's face, clearing the water from his eyes.

"There…all clean." She seemed to be trying to get control of her laughter now.

"Thanks," Clint replied dryly.

"Just trying to help." She grinned in a manner that Thor understood all too well. Jane often grinned at him the same way.

"Help, huh?" Clint advanced slowly, backing her against the counter.

She nodded, sprayer sitting forgotten on the edge of the sink.

"Guess I should thank you then?"

With a move so fast, Thor nearly missed it, Clint's hand shot out and grabbed the sprayer, releasing a stream of water up the back of Natasha's shirt.

She shouted in surprised laughter, but was silenced by Clint covering her mouth with his, sprayer hanging down to the floor abandoned.

Thor backed away, leaving them in privacy.

He headed back to his room, gathered his bag and retrieved his hammer. He was even more eager now, to get to Jane. To proclaim his love in whatever way he could. He hoped, one day, that he could find such joy doing menial tasks as the dishes with his Jane.

He hoped one day what they felt for each other would also go beyond such simple language as 'love.' That it would reach the point where it – like that which existed between the archer and the widow – would not be so easily defined.

End of Not So Easily Defined - Thor

So? Did you like it? It was fun to write. I always enjoy writing Thor and I imagine the Asgardian prince hasn't often prepared his own meals...

Drop me a line to let me know what you thought!

Later, dudes! (I just let my inner ninja turtle geek show...)