Metal Birds?

4: Lack of Burrtios Makes Clint Sad

"Steven," Clint called, wheeling into the kitchen. "Where are the burritos?"

"What are you talking about?" Steve questioned. "Nobody made burritos."

"WHAT? HE LIED TO ME!"

"Who?"

"SAMUEL WILSON, WHERE ARE YOU?" Clint roared, rolling out of the kitchen. Steve looked at him as he left and shrugged, going back to making himself a sandwhich. Sam popped out from behind the fridge, laughing.

"Oh man, that was so funny," he said, hopping up to sit on the counter.

"What did you do?" Sam shrugged.

"I sort of told him that you were making burritos for lunch. You aren't. He's pissed."

"Well, why did you tell him I was? If you want burritos, I can make some," Steve offered, being the nice guy that he was. Sam waved him off.

"No, I'm fine. It was Clint who wanted the burritos anyway. I guess I'll make him something to make up for it..." Sam stopped, realizing he didn't really know how to make anything but toast and omlettes, plus a good steak. "Uh, Steve, how do I make food?" Steve sighed and grabbed a cook book.

"Well Sam, let's get cooking."

~~~

"BURRIOTS, BITCH!" Sam yelled, setting the large platter of delicious looking Mexican food on the table. Clint wheeled around the corner and nearly slammed into the table, he was going that fast.

"PIETRO SLOW DOWN!" he screamed. Oh, that was why. He jumped out of the wheelchair and took a seat at the big wooden table, grabbing a paper plate and a burrito and instantly chowing down. "I still have to beat you up," he reminded Sam through a mouthful of food.

"But I made you burritos!" Steve crossed his arms and glared at Sam. "I helped Steve make you burritos!"

"After you LIED TO ME."

"It seems that the lack of burritos made Clint sad," Pietro commented, taking a burrito for himself.

"Lack of burritos does make Clint sad," Clint answered in third person. "Clint also gets mad at Sam when Sam LIES ABOUT BURRITOS!"

"I WAS ONE TIME!"

"That's all I need," said Clint suspiciously, taking another bit of his burrito.

"For what?" Sam asked cautiously, genuinely confused.

"To know that I can't trust you ever, especially when it comes to food."

"Okay, rude."

"You kind of deserve it," Steve added, grabbing a burrito.

"What? My own man, turning against me? What is this?"

"You did lie to him," Pietro reasoned. "These burritos are good."

"Thanks," Steve said with a grin, taking a bite of his own. "They are good!"

"I helped!" Sam exclaimed, snatching a burrito and taking a bit. "Shit, man, they are good!"

"I know," Steve mumbled through a mouthful of food. Clint and Pietro sat and ate their burritos while Steve and Sam stood on the other side of the table, eating their own burritos. Natasha entered the room and walked to the table, grabbing a burrito and a plate before retreating to her room.

Clint finished up his burrito just as his phone began ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and held it up to his ear, yawning. "Hello? Laura! Hi, how are you?" He groaned. "Ugh, really? Do I have to?" he whined. "Fine, fine, I'll come. I'm bringing a friend, though, and Nat. Yep. Uh-huh. Yeah, sure. Okay. I'll be there. Bye. Yup. See you later. Bye."