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]

"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.

[redintheledger]

Redheaded woman in a black catsuit, shimming down ropes and shooting people with crossbows.

Natasha is not even going to say the first thing that comes to mind. She's barely even going to think it.

She is, instead, just going to give Clint a fond look and roll her eyes.



And then she is going to just start to giggle over the confusion the protagonist has between doing his job and chasing the evil catsuit woman. Because, really.

[hasthehighground]

He pokes her knee with his foot because, really. Mocking the poor, annoying protagonist?



"Oh, yes, you are masters of conflict resolution," he says to the GI Joes, who are failing to clarify anything about who they are.

[redintheledger]

"Could you imagine the boss and General Hawk having a conversation?" she says.

[hasthehighground]

Clint goes silent for a moment, imagining this, and laughs. "He'd make Hawk cry."

[redintheledger]

She huffs a laugh of agreement, and continues eating her brunch as the ludicrous conversation continues.




"Egypt? He's letting them take him and his payload to Egypt?"

[hasthehighground]

"I forgot this part." Clint stares at the screen.

Sure it's been like three years, but still.

"Can Ripcord shut up? I mean, is it physically possible?"

[redintheledger]

"Scarlett," Natasha informs the screen, "kick. his. ass."

Not even a sword in the face gets Ripcord to shut up for long, which makes her mouth press into a line.


"Technically, GI JOE doesn't exist. But if it did, it'd be comprised of the top men and women from the best military units all over the world. The alpha dogs..."

"Who can't play nice!" she nearly shouts at the screen. "Do you people know nothing of organizational psychology?"

[hasthehighground]

"I get the feeling they'd fail your average kindergarten," he says, wincing slightly at the screen.

Clint's fully aware that neither he or Nat are team players, but at least they can hold conversations without actively insulting and/or threatening the people they're working with.