THINKING OUT LOUD || Avengers

-)Four: The Cat From HYDRA(-

"What in the hell is this?"

"I dunno, some English thing."

"That's a dustpan and brush. Have either of you ever cleaned anything in your lives?"

Clint Barton watched his colleagues move around the apartment despairingly. Sam was going through the collection of DVDs balanced on a shelf, grumbling something under his breath about all the wrong Disney movies. Steve had focused himself on checking inconspicuous hiding places- or places that were inconspicuous in the 40s, before movie plots became recyclable- such as the space between the mattress and the bedframe, or behind the fridge. So far, all he'd discovered was an abandoned rubber band ball and a lone Pringle.

Natasha Romanoff, meanwhile, was hunting through cupboards in the open-plan kitchen area, hence why she was now holding up a seemingly completely unused dustpan and brush, Tony chipping in over the com.

"This is fun." Sharon commented, from where she had positioned herself next to Clint.

He shot the woman a look. He'd never met her before, but already the not-at-all-subtle looks that Steve kept shooting her made Clint want to put a wall or something between them, for her own convenience.

"Didn't you say you knew where all the stuff was hidden in here?" Clint asked her.

Sharon smiled, "I did. But you guys just marched off as soon as we got through the door. I thought maybe you needed a run about. Like stray dogs."

"Nice." Clint nodded as sarcastically as possible, "Classy."

"So where is all the stuff?" Steve asked, standing to frown at Sharon.

In response, the woman said nothing, only stalked past him to beige coloured wall. She pressed something, and part of the paper cracked open, like a closet door, "And welcome to Narnia."

"If Narnia was creepy and weird and comprised of ninety percent string." Nat added, swinging the door open.

One the other side was what looked like a police murder board, except with more... everything. There were more photographs, more newspaper clippings, an unnecessary amount of drawing pins and, Nat was right, truly an avalanche of spun wool, drowning out the board in reds and blues. It was difficult to see the cork at all.

"Well," Steve said, "I could definitely get 'obsessed' from this."

Clint took a step closer, frowning at the pieces of paper. The nearest newspaper read 'DAREDEVIL COLLARS FISK' with a line drawn from that to a much smaller copy that quite clearly came from later in the paper, 'SMALL FIRM NELSON AND MURDOCK SINK GANG LORD'. There were far more, 'THE DEVIL IN HELL'S KITCHEN', 'PUNISHER PUNISHED' and then one more, higher up than the rest and laminated 'WHAT IS IT, TO BE A HERO?'

Sam whistled between his teeth, "She's put in the effort, you have to give her that."

"Sometimes I think this is her whole life." Sharon was half smiling as she drew her eyes over the mess that was Dani Atteberry's work.

Clint snorted, "Has someone told her parents that?"

"She doesn't have any parents." Sharon answered shortly, like it was obvious, which it kind of was from the state of her room.

There was a scuffling sound from the bedroom. Steve tensed, exchanging a look with Clint, who immediately went for a gun. They slunk over to the door, Clint opting for the side as he nodded to Steve.

Bang!

Captain America kicked the door off its hinges, barging forwards in a wave of righteous badassery. Hawkeye followed a moment later and stopped dead.