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"Gin," Clint said, placing his hand down and grinning across the table at Tony. "Ha! Drink up!" He exclaimed, pouring a shot and sliding it across the table to him. With a shrug the billionaire downed it, setting it carefully back on the table. "I still don't see why you think that's a punishment," he said seriously, enjoying the taste it left in his mouth. If Clint hadn't been there he probably would've been doing the same thing, minus the card game. Pushing his cards forward, he allowed the agent to begin shuffling again. "Maybe we ought to play something more suited to your level. How about Go Fish?" He asked, smirking haughtily at Tony, who just raised an eyebrow. Who said he was losing by accident? Maybe he just wanted a drink. He was about to retaliate when Natasha entered the room, picking something up that wasn't visible to them off the coffee table. Both men exchanged a glance, thinking the same thing. Could they get the Black Widow drunk? "Hey Tasha," Clint said, drawing her attention as he held up the deck. "Feel like playing a game?"
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"Please, stop," Clint begged, hiccuping and putting a hand to his mouth. In a matter of two hours she had managed to outplay both of them in several games. Tony was slumped forward on the table, sleeping drunkenly with the empty bottle clutched in one hand. Agent Barton was green in the face, one arm clutching his stomach like he might be sick. The corner of Natasha's mouth turned up into a brief smirk, though it then relaxed into a smile. Reaching forward, she downed the shot in front of her (which was the one that had been poured when she had sat down two hours ago) and stood up, tossing her cards on the table. It was a winning hand, too. "Try not to make a mess," she said, patting him on the cheek before strolling out. Clint hiccuped again then jumped up, knocking the chair over as he ran for the trash can.