Fake!PFSB for Natasha

[hasthehighground]

Following on from this post.

In the rafter over her head, there's a guy in civvies reading a book (something old, battered, and by Louis L'amour) and drinking coffee out of a thermos.

Not that she doesn't know that-- one thing he likes about Natasha is that she can be trusted to look up. It's been a long couple days; it's nice to just relax. Clint figures they'll actually talk when he gets a refill, or if she gets bored.

Comments

[hasthehighground]

"Sounds like a pretty good plan to me," Clint says, after a quiet moment.

"Want to hit up some place that isn't Tony's for a room?"

Get order-in, watch stupid movies. The usual.

[redintheledger]

She brightens.

"We wouldn't even have to walk far," she says, given their location. She doesn't trust New York right now, not given...alien invasion plus civilians and their annoying camera-phones.

"In a GI Joe kinda mood? Or...?"

[hasthehighground]

Clint grins back. "I'm always in a GI Joe kinda mood."

Something that's ludicrous even in their world? He's in!

[redintheledger]

And that, Clint Barton, is an actual grin.

"Excellent taste you have," she says.

[hasthehighground]

A quick stop at the bar for "Delicious breakfast-brunch things (the lady likes lemon)" in a set of styrofoam containers, a room-key, and DVD.

Natasha gets half the styrofoam containers, and is handed the DVD very solemnly, for safe-keeping.

The room's nice, though not like Ritz-Carlton fancy. Better than Budapest. It's got a table, a soft-looking bed, sofa and wall-TV.

Clint shucks off his shoes by the door, and sets the styrofoam containers down on the coffee table before going to poke his head into the closet. (There's no window.)

[redintheledger]

Natasha's sneakers join Clint's shoes, and then she's off to claim the couch. For a woman who is not all that big, all things considered, she takes up a lot of room when she wants to.

Like a cat.





She'll probably share, but if the secret is skritches or not, she's certainly not dignifying it by admitting it.

A little dreamily, "You hear that?"

[hasthehighground]

"The resounding lack of Black Sabbath and computerized butlers? Yeah."

'Spretty nice. Not that he values his silence as much as Natasha, but still.

Clint takes in the sofa situation, and ends up perched on the arm of the sofa, snagging one of the styrofoam containers.

"Oh, hey," he says, glancing up. "I got crepes. You want some?"

Blackberry, if he's judging right. It's like Christmas.

[redintheledger]

Natasha can appreciate Black Sabbath, but JARVIS weirds her out. There is also a distinct lack of Thor's hearty boom.

Silence.

At least until they start to play the movie, of course.

"...swap you a muffin?" she offers, generously.

[hasthehighground]

"You drive a hard bargain," he says, passing her the container after he cuts the top off to use as his plate, and serves himself some.

[redintheledger]

This? All sugar and flour and milk and fruit and piping hot? This is why people fight to defend Earth.

(of course, the question of if she fought for Earth, or fought to defend Clint, is one she's Not Thinking About.)

"Mmhmm," she says happily, biting into a crepe with blueberries, allowing herself to wallow in the taste (and ignore the opening credits).

[hasthehighground]

Clint laughs at her, almost silent, glancing up to watch.

The screen says: Whenever a new breed of evil emerges, a new breed of soldier must fight it. in epic-looking text.

"Smells like foreshadowing," he says, glancing sideways.

[redintheledger]

"The foreshadowing can't be subtle. It'd ruin the effect of the film," she says, pseudo-snobbish before she bites into an apple and cinnamon muffin.

On the screen, there is someone being Scottish and defiant.

There is more foreshadowing. Or possibly, more like 'forelighting-by-large-torch-of-a-plot-anvil'.

[hasthehighground]

"Right," he says, huffing a laugh, "we might forget that there's a plot."

Medieval Scottish defiance, medieval Scottish defiance, modern day Scottish defiance!

"God, do you think he and Stark are related?"

[redintheledger]

"The idea has a frightening level of merit," she says, sounding blank.



"We're never showing this movie to Stark."

[hasthehighground]

On-screen, nano-mites eat the metal off a tank.

"Yeah," he says. "Deal."

[redintheledger]

"At least we could shoot aliens," she says after a moment or two of silence, mostly because if she actually thought about the scene on the screen - with a young Special Forces soldier getting demoted due to newborn baby - she'd roll her eyes enough to sprain them.

[hasthehighground]

"Or stab them and steal their rides," he says, nudging her lightly with his foot, amused.

And starts snickering at the next scene. General Hawk's political acumen is pretty well-honed.

(Not.)

[redintheledger]

"Letting down the raptor team, there," she says, giving Clint a sideways and amused glance.

As the characters - now the supposedly elite forces - start discussing how they are going to protect the convey, as they start to point out flaws, Natasha leans over to Clint and stage-whispers, "It's a trap!"

[hasthehighground]

Clint hadn't really recovered from his snicker-fit before her pointing out the trap.

He laughs, shoulders coming up as he tries to keep his crepes steady.

"Wouldn't you've loved to be there for their training? How to Notice Plot-Relevant Problems, and Ignore Everything Else."

[redintheledger]

"And don't worry, Private, you can leave your common sense at the door," she says, pitching her voice deep and rough.

"And this conversation about flying isn't going to be at all relevant," she adds, looking with bemusement at the screen.

[hasthehighground]

"No, Nat," Clint says, "this is really what Army guys spend their time talking about on missions. Cross my heart."

[redintheledger]

"Wanting to be in the Air Force."

She purses her (shiny with melted sugar) lips and raises her eyebrows.

"Really."

[hasthehighground]

"Some Army guys are stupid," he allows.

His glance flicks to her lips, and back to the screen.

[redintheledger]

The screen which now has explosions.

They are stupid explosions.

But they are explosions, and thus partly the point of this whole activity.

And then, this being G.I. Joe, a woman in a black catsuit turns up.



Natasha feels she shouldn't point this out, given she fought off an alien invasion wearing something similar (although, in her opinion, far more practical. As far as catsuits go.)

[hasthehighground]

Clint is totally watching the movie for the explosions.

(And the hilarious expressions that Nat is trying not to make at the screen.)

His express flattens for a moment when the catsuit woman kicks the protagonist in the head, but it doesn't last more than a moment.

Because a bad-guy gets hit with a crossbow bolt that electrocutes him. "Yes!" Clint says, automatic and smug.