"Why did it have to be you? I mean, out of everyone, why did it have to be you? Steve would have been a delight. Bucky would have been wonderful. Sam would have been hilarious. But nooooooooo. I had to get stuck with you." (Y/n) groaned, as she pulled the old, moth eaten blankets around herself. Trying her best to warm up, using the small fire that Clint had been able to rustle up.

"Look. You're not the only one that's not happy about this situation. I would rather be stuck with an irate Hulk than you. But we both lucked out now, didn't we?" Clint groaned in return. The archer dropping down onto the floor, on the opposite side of the fire. Doing his best to ignore her.

"Well, if it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have got stuck here in the first place. Mister I never miss. Mister I am such a good archer. Mister I'm so god damn perfect, and everyone loves me, Barton. (Y/n) hissed in reply, as she remembered that if there was one thing that she hated, it was being cold. And being cold with Clint Barton, just made it all ten times worse.

The mission was supposed to be simple. Take out a high ranking Hydra doctor. Steve insisting that (Y/n) and Clint were the best ones for the job. And that spending some time together, might just thaw out their frosty relationship.

To begin with, it had gone well. The trip to the Canadian Rockies had proceeded without a hitch. Yet, when it had come down to it, Clint had missed the target. (Y/n) only admitting to herself that it wasn't altogether his fault. And that circumstances beyond either of their control, had meant that the archer hadn't been able to live up to his own hype. The pair finding that they had had to change their plans quickly and make a run for it through a pass that the team had not reconnoitred. Unfortunately having to take refuge in a wooden cabin high up in the mountains. A cabin that was now snowed in, with all lines of communication between the waring duo and the others, seeming to have been cut off.

"Don't you ever stop complaining? I mean, seriously. And you nag too. Sometimes I would swear that we were married............"

"Oh please. I wouldn't marry you even if you were the last man on the planet. And I do not complain or nag. Plus, being married to me would be like a dream.........."

"Oh, yeah, it would be a dream alright. I believe that those dreams are called nightmares." Clint scoffed. Interrupting the interruption. The archer smiling smugly, as (Y/n) growled under her breath.

"Has anyone ever told you, that you are a pompous, arrogant ass. Who has a face that closely resembles a baboon's butt? And that you have the manners of a New York street rat!" (Y/n) exclaimed, as she got to her feet. Deciding that she had already spent more than enough time looking at Clint's face. The former assassin looking through the cupboards of the run down cabin, in hopes of finding something that could be more edible than the ration pack that she had in her bag.

"What are you looking for?" Clint sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as (Y/n) banged cupboard door after cupboard door.

"Something.........anything.........."I don't know." (Y/n) replied. Doing her best to ignore the archer's continued grumbles.

"There isn't going to be anything. This place probably hasn't been used in ten years. We're just lucky that it's still standing. I.........."

"BRANDY!" (Y/n) suddenly declared, as her freezing fingers brushed away the dirt from the label. The full bottle of spirits, promising warmth, and an escape from Clint's constant whining about how bad she was.

"And given the vintage, I would say that this place hasn't been used in twenty years. Stark would pay a fortune for a bottle like this." (Y/n) chuckled, as she made her way back to the fire. Dropping unceremoniously to the floor, and slowly, ever so slowly, separating the bottle from the stopper. (Y/n) taking in the heady aroma and sighing happily.

"Hey! I hope you're gonna share that. I'm as cold as you are, you know." Clint said. Sniffing and pulling the old, tattered blankets tighter around his shoulders.

"Share? Why? You said that there wouldn't be anything. If I had listened to you, I wouldn't have found this. Anyway, you would probably only complain about having to drink out of the same bottle as me. I might have girl cooties. But don't worry. If you turn into a popsicle like Cap, I'm sure that they will be able to thaw you out. Though why they would bother, I don't know." (Y/n) retorted. Finding herself gasping slightly as she took her first gulp of the brown liqueur. The liquid burning her throat slightly as it went down.

"Mmmmmm, smooth." She croaked. Trying to recover her voice as the brandy hit her stomach and sent a pleasant warmth through her body.

"Come on, (Y/n). Hand it over. If you are going to get drunk and more obnoxious than normal, don't you think that its fair that I be allowed to get drunk too, so I don't have to remember putting up with you. Let's call it a temporary truce. We can go back to the usual sarcastic remarks and snide comments after the others pick us up." Clint reasoned, as he got to his feet and made his way over to (Y/n)'s side of the fire, dropping down next to her.

"You mean, you'll actually stop bitching for five minutes if I allow you to have some of my brandy?"

"Yes"

"Oh, now that is something that I have to witness. The great Clint Barton being able to keep his unwanted, and uncalled for opinions to himself for once. Here you go then. Wrap your laughing gear around this." (Y/n) replied, as she handed Clint the bottle.

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

"No! He didn't. Really?" (Y/n) laughed, as Clint regaled her with yet another story that painted Tony in the worst possible light.

"Oh, he did. And she punched him too. I swear that he had that black eye for a month." Clint chuckled, as he happily grabbed the offered bottle, and took another swig.

"I am going to have to remember that, so I can use it against the old tin can. That is if they ever come and rescue us." (Y/n) slurred slightly. Closing one eye as she tried to stop the room from spinning.

"And the one with the donkey. That was a doozy." (Y/n) snorted, as she nearly fell over backwards. Not really caring whether the story was true or not, just caring that it sounded like something Tony would do.

"You know. I didn't mean it earlier." (Y/n) said, as she looked up at Clint.

"Mean what?"

"That your face looks like a baboon's butt. It actually looks more like a horse's ass.......... No. Really. You're actually kinda cute in a certain light. Admittedly, that light would have to be off. But you are cute. And it wasn't completely your fault that you missed that guy. It could have happened to anyone. And sometimes, when you aren't being completely obnoxious, I even quite like you. And I'm still cold." (Y/n) told him. Clint moving slightly closer, as he placed his finger under her chin and looked into her slightly bloodshot eyes.

"Ok, so maybe you don't nag. Or complain. And in a certain light, you aren't too bad either. And sometimes, well sometimes I have actually wondered what it would be like to kiss you. I mean, if you could shut your yap for a few seconds that is."

"You.......you want to kiss me?" (Y/n) asked, as she moved even closer. The only thing between the pair the old blankets that were trying to keep in the warmth of the dying fire.

"Yeah. Like this." Clint replied. His lips crashing into (Y/n)'s as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his body. The blankets being thrown off as room suddenly became a lot steamier.

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

"Have you got them, F.R.I.D.A.Y?" Tony asked, as his piloted the Quinjet over the snow. He and the others trying to pick up on the tracking devises that Clint and (Y/n) had forgotten they had with them.

"Yes sir. It is only a faint signal, but Miss (Y/n)'s tracker is situated just over the next ridge."  F.R.I.D.A.Y informed the billionaire. Steve coming into the cockpit and looking over the vast expanses of white.

"You don't think that they've killed one another, do you? I was only trying to help. I thought that if we could get the two of them to work together, they might actually be able to get along." Steve sighed. Knowing that he had only had the best intentions for his two friends. The old soldier hoping that nothing had gone wrong.

"No. I think (Y/n) loves riling Clint up to much, to kill him. And Clint would get bored if he didn't have (Y/n) to complain at. They are probably just holed up somewhere, completely ignoring one another." Tony replied, a smile coming to his face as he saw the ramshackle cabin.

"A place just like that." Tony continued, as he brought the Quinjet down to rest on the snow.

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

"Well, my, my, my. Will ya look at that?"Sam chuckled, as he looked over Steve's shoulder. All eyes looking down at the naked pair under the blankets. Clint and (Y/n) happily asleep in one another's arms.

"Looks like your plan to help them get along worked, Cap." Tony added, as he bent down and picked up the empty bottle of brandy.

"Do......do you think that we should wake them?" Steve asked. The Captain not sure what else to say as (Y/n) moaned slightly and snuggled further into Clint's side.

"Nah. Lets go and get some pancakes. I missed breakfast for this. And I don't think that they will mind being stuck here together, for a little longer." Tony chuckled as he headed back to the door. The others following behind and leaving the stuck pair to sleep. All knowing that this was going to make for a very interesting journey home.