Control | S. Rogers [2]

NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

     "BUT IT'S A TRICK!" CLINT exclaimed, twirling a drumstick swiftly in his fingers.

"I agree!" Reyna perked up, leaning forward and pointing to the hammer. "I've seen a lot of shit, and that just seems like a myth!"

The party had died down by now, the only remaining guest being the people closest to the Avengers, and to Laurel disgust, that included her.
She sat next to Steve, staying pretty much silent the whole time and simply playing with the power dampener around her wrist as the others spoke fondly about missions or other stories they had experienced.

The conversation had somehow got to Mjolnir, Thor's weapon of choice and how only the worthy could lift it. The dirty blonde was confused by the story and had found herself zoning out half the time.

"No, no, it's much more then that," Thor claimed to a somewhat intoxicated Clint Barton. "And it is not a myth."

The archer rolled his eyes, extending his arms to motion to the Asgardian weapon. "'Ah, whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the the power!' Whatever, man! It's a trick!"

Thor laughed at his claim, pointing to his trusty hammer with a daring smile. "Please, be my guest."

Melissa looked across the small group at Clint and Reyna, raising a mocking eyebrow at her friend.

"Come on," Tony urged the archer.

Clint looked back at Thor, his eyes forming a sense of disbelief. "Really?"

Thor nodded, Clint climbing to his feet and placing his two drumsticks in one hands.

"Oh this is going to be beautiful," Rhodey sarcastic voice appeared.

"Clint, you've had a rough week, we won't hold it against you if you can't get it up," Tony added jokingly, reaching over and grabbing a hand full of chips. The group laughed.

By now, Laurel's interest had appeared, the ex Hydra operative sitting up straighter on her corner of the couch and watching Clint make his way to the hammer.

"You know I've seen this before, right?" Clint wrapped one hand around the hammer's handle, tugging on it with as much strength as he could give. A grunt escape his lips before he laughed, letting go and examming it again. "I still don't know how you do it!"

Laurel even cracked a small smile at the struggle he was in, finding it a bit amusing.

"Smell the silent judgement?"

"Please, Stark, by all means," Clint edged on, pointing to the Iron Man and then back at the hammer.

With his ego too big to deflate, Tony stood, taking Clint's place behind the hammer as the archer sat down.