Chapter Text
"Hand me the screwdriver, Clint. The other one."
"They're the same!"
"Not the same, and stop arguing."
Steve frowned as he heard the voices, and he turned the corner to find Natasha sitting on Clint's shoulders. Clint had a toolbox in hand and Natasha had nails between her teeth, and her hands on the wall above Steve and Darcy's apartment door, attaching some strange contraption there.
Steve cleared his throat, and the two assassins turned to stare at him, both of them looking like deer in headlights. "What are you two doing?"
"I'm stopping Natasha from doing stuff without your permission," said Clint.
Steve raised his eyebrows, staring at the redhead seated on his shoulders. "And what a fine job you're doing."
Clint shrugged and Natasha kicked him. "Stop moving," she muttered, before taking the nails out of her mouth and screwing them into the hole in the wall. She had a cordless drill tucked into her belt, and there was some sort of silver device being screwed into the wall above the door.
"What is that?" asked Steve, stepping closer to stare at it.
"Security device," she replied bluntly.
"Dare I ask what it does?"
Natasha glanced at him. "Probably not."
"Am I allowed inside my apartment?"
"Oh yeah, you're fine," she said, as though it were obvious. "It'll help keep you and Darcy and the kids safe. You trust me, right?" She gave him her trademark sly smile and Steve sighed.
"Yeah, sure," he said, opening the door and going inside. "Clean up whatever mess you make."
He found out what it actually did when one of Stark's new employees came to find Steve, and was shot with a tranquiliser. Steve made her take it down, and Natasha had pouted. She'd been really pleased to find out it was working so well.