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There's a moment where they all suddenly get comfortable with each other, when they become a team and not just six people who are kind of edgy around each other but who have to fight together because Nick Fury says so.
That moment is when Clint shows up with the Star Wars original trilogy (the theatrical releases, of course; he's a purist) and herds them all into a lounge at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ. He's even roped Natasha into the team-building movie-watching exercise, and she shows up with a couple of cases of beer and some microwave popcorn.
("Since when are you the team-building guy?" she had asked when he let her in on the plan, one eyebrow cocked at him like she was wondering if he'd been secretly replaced by a pod person.
"I'm not," he had replied. "I'm just sick of Stark and Rogers bitching at each other all the time. Getting on my nerves."
"And watching Star Wars is going to fix that?"
"Watching Star Wars fixes everything."
There was a little bit of wistfulness in that statement, and Natasha had filed that away for further examination.)
Thor is still getting the hang of television, because despite Asgard's crazy advanced technology, they apparently don't have movies there.
"So this is a true story?" he says after Clint has explained it to him for the fifth time.
Clint sighs and gives up. "Yes, it's actually a documentary. That's a true story movie," he says, trying not to laugh at the look Natasha is giving him.
"And it takes place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away?" Thor muses, and then his face brightens. "Ah! Perhaps it is a cultural memory your people possess of one of the nine realms! Asgard does not have... what are they called? The tall, hairy creatures?"
"Wookiees," Natasha supplies; she's obviously given up on deflecting Clint's bullshit.
"Yes, we do not have Wookiees in Asgard. Nor do we fight with lightsabers, though that is a mighty weapon indeed."
By this point, Tony is crying with suppressed laughter, Bruce is taking deep and even breaths in an effort to keep his heart rate down, and Steve looks like he's torn between amusement and guilt for being a party to pulling Thor's leg.
Natasha gives Clint a look that is equal parts fond and exasperated, and then there's an evil glint in her eye that makes him finish off his beer in a gulp just in case he gets punched. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.
"Thor, he's bullshitting you," Natasha says, her lips quirked just the tiniest bit.
Thor's brows knit together, and Clint is sure he's about to have the shit kicked out of him. "Bullshitting?" Thor says, and Clint can't quite tell if he's genuinely confused or if he's just repeating the word to draw out the tension before he wipes the floor with Clint.
"You know," Natasha explains. "Making stuff up. He's lying to you because it's funny."
Clint glares at Natasha, and she smiles blithely back at him. She just loves making him squirm, and he's not sure why he actually likes her.
(He likes her because she gives great shoulder rubs, makes surprisingly tasty cookies, and understands him like no one else on the planet.)
Everyone else looks very uncomfortable. Bruce might even be plotting a quick escape.
Thor quite suddenly lets out a booming laugh and slaps Clint on the back hard enough to knock the breath out of him. "I see! You are jesting!" he exclaims, actually slapping his own knee. "I love a good jest. Now pass me another ale and we shall continue this... what is it called again?"
"Movie marathon," Tony says with a grin.
Natasha reloads everyone with new beers and settles onto the couch beside Clint, leaning against his shoulder comfortably. Steve is gaping at the special effects, and Tony is trying to explain the nuances of computer generated imagery to him, and they're not bickering or trading sarcastic remarks (or in Steve's case, the kind of "sarcastic" barb you'd expect your grandpa to lob at you during an argument). Bruce actually looks relaxed, and he's obviously a Star Wars fan because he's moving his mouth along with all of the lines.
"Not bad, team-building guy," Natasha whispers, her nose brushing against his ear.
Clint grins into his beer bottle.