Sam and Clint looked at one another. Neither knowing quite what to think as they had listened to (Y/n) talk about her old story. Part of them thought that she must be joking. That it was very coincidental, that she had been telling Tony about exactly what the two had seen in their rooms the night before. Yet, the other part of them knew that there was no way that (Y/n) could know anything about the plan to try and scare her. That she couldn't know about the spectres that had disturbed the pairs sleep. So, at least to the two bird brains, there appeared to be only one explanation. And that was, that what they had experienced was real, and (Y/n) might know even more about it than what she had said.

"What the hell have you got us into, Sam? I swear that this is all because you thought it would be a good idea to try and scare a woman, that reads ghost stories in bed. Why can't you just be normal and ask the woman out? But noooooooo! Captain tweety bird has to go about things the hard way." Clint huffed. Not liking the idea that he had seen the evil spirit of Jeremiah and may have been picked as his next victim.

"Look, you elf wannabe. How the hell has this got anything to do with me wanting to scare (Y/n)? I'm not an evil god, or a homicidal colonist. The best thing to do is go and find (Y/n) and see if she knows anything more about all this. If we find out more about what we saw last night, we could still us it.........."

"Whoa! What's this we? You are on your own. I'm not having any more to do with this hair brained scheme of yours. We all know that you're in love with........"

"Chicken!" Sam exclaimed, interrupting the archer's interruption.

"A ghost stands in the corner of your room and points a bit, and you turn into a bigger chicken than Foghorn Leghorn. Next thing I know, you'll be sprouting feathers." Sam added. Clucking mockingly as he got to his feet.

"Who would have thought that the great Clint Barton would be so easily scared." The ex-pararescue airman added, before turning and making his way out of the room. Determined to find the teams resident spook specialist, and ask her to explain a little more about the old tale.

"Hey! I ain't no chicken. You know something, Barnes is right about you." Clint called out, before reluctantly getting to his feet and following after Sam. The archer having a terrible feeling that he had bitten off more than he could chew, this time.

                                                               >>------------------------------<<

(Y/n) sat in the library, a book resting on her lap as she waited for the two conspirators. She knew that sooner or later, one, if not both of the boys would be coming to find her. Even though she was saying so herself, she had set the whole thing up perfectly. She had started that little niggle in the back of their brains, twitching. Got them to question their own eyes. Their own minds. Now she just had to add to it before she got Tony's help again, and gave the whole thing a twist.

"You're up to something, (Y/n)." A familiar voice suddenly said. (Y/n) looking up to see an impish little grin on the face of Bucky.

"Up to something? Me? What would make you think that I am up to something? All I am doing is sitting here, and.............."

"Oh please. I've seen that twinkle in your eyes before, (Y/n). It always means trouble for someone. And as long as it's not me, I want in." Bucky interjected, as he took as seat next to her.

"Fine. But one word to Clint or Sam and..........."

"Sam?! You're getting Sam? Oh, I definitely want in now. I won't breathe a word, I promise. The idea of watching you make the flying turkey squirm, is better than anything I could hope for." Bucky interrupted again. (Y/n) chuckling as she saw the look of glee in the old soldier's eyes.

"Ok. I'll fill you in properly later. But for now, hide." (Y/n) replied quietly, as she heard the sounds of the Clint insisting to a still clucking Sam, that he wasn't a chicken, coming down the hall. Bucky's grin growing broader, as he moved into the shadows.

"You two are making enough noise to wake the dead. What is it with you guys today?" (Y/n) huffed slightly, dropping her book on the table next to her as Sam, quickly followed by Clint, made his way into the library.

"Er, (Y/n). We.........we overheard what you were talking about with old tin draws earlier." Sam began. (Y/n) furrowing her brows as she pretended not to have the slightest idea of what the Falcon was going on about.

"You know. The ghost story that you were telling his smugness about." Clint interjected. The archer knowing that if he didn't continue to help Sam with his little scheme, then he would never hear the last of it.

"Oh that. Old Jeremiah and Miriam. Quite an interesting tale really. But not too dissimilar to things that I've read or heard many times before." (Y/n) sniffed. Brushing off the subject as if it had been nothing.

"Do you believe it? I mean.......do you think that the spirits of the two can come haunting?" Sam added, as he took a seat next to (Y/n). (Y/n) trying her best not to smile as she saw the looks in his and Clint's eyes.

"Welllllllll. I think that there is an element of truth in it, certainly. I know that the colonists did drive the native people from this land. And that this area in particular, was sacred to the twin Tuscarora gods. I think that I even remember that I read an old newspaper article about the deaths of the Stone family. That it had been a very gory scene. And there's something else............"

"What? What else?" Clint interrupted. Shoving Sam over as he moved to sit on the same seat as the Falcon.

"And.........I seem to recall that I read another book that said that the Stone incident wasn't the only horrific occurrence around here. If I remembered rightly, at the beginning of the last century, there was a series of grisly murders. In the end, the authorities placed the blame for the crimes on the shoulders of some guy, that was considered to be the local crazy. During his trial, and then as he was led to his execution, the man repeatedly went on and on about evil spirits. A dark shadowy figure that haunted his dreams and seeing a native American man following him everywhere. Though everyone just put it down to fact that he was trying to claim that the crimes weren't anything to do with him. That it was the dark entity that had killed those people. The strange thing is that the Stone crimes, and these murders, all happened at the same time of the year. The later crimes, begun on the anniversary of the deaths of the Stone family. And even stranger, was that at each of the crime scenes, the police found a blood covered rag doll thing. A rag doll that was similar to ones that girls had before the turn of the century. But it's probably all just coincidental. I doubt if anything like that could happen again. Though, the anniversary of the deaths, is this weekend." (Y/n) shrugged. Hoping that every word she said, was sticking in the brains of the two men.

"This weekend!?" Both men exclaimed together. (Y/n) nodding matter of factly.

"Oh yeah. If old Jeremiah, Miriam and the Left Handed twin are going to be out and about, now is the time that they'll do it. But its just a story. Though as I told Tony, I never take these First Nation myths and legends, lightly. You upset a god, and you should be ready to reap what you sow. I think that the only way it could be worse, is if old Howard had chosen to build this place on a burial ground. Then we could have had our very own version of Poltergeist." (Y/n) chuckled.

"And talking about this weekend and Poltergeist, if either of you two big babies wants to join me for my weekly scare-a-thon, I decided to watch the Conjuring movies. They are always good for a demon, and a ghost or two." (Y/n) added, with a smile. Doing her best not to laugh out loud as she saw a twinkle in Sam's eye. Knowing that she had reeled him in. Hook, line and sinker.

"Yeah (Y/n), that sounds like fun. But, er........I.....need to talk to Katniss here. Come on Clint." Sam replied. Grabbing the archer by the hand and pulling him out of the library. Leaving (Y/n), seemingly alone.

"You know, you have an evil streak that Loki himself would be proud of. Now, tell me what that was all about, and how I can help." Bucky smiled as he took the seat that Sam and Clint had just vacated. The old soldier's grin growing ever broader as (Y/n) explained what she had in mind.