FIC: Good Morning, New York! Pairing:
Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, JARVIS. Maria Hill and Pepper Potts (background)Rating:
Assassins. Day time TV. A recipe for ... what, exactly?
Written for the be_compromised promptathon, for prompts from scribble_myname, hufflepuffsneak and happilydancing -- also fills in a square for my trope bingo. (I believe in multi-tasking ...)
Anyone looking for something profound will be sorely disappointed.
“Five minutes to cameras rolling. You look fabulous, you two. Just gorgeous.”
The hostess’ words are probably meant to be reassuring, but Clint is clearly not buying.
“Yeah? Then why’d you try and put eyeliner on me? That face make-up was bad enough. I’m gonna have to scrape that shit off with a spatula.”
The woman bats her lashes at him in a way that makes Natasha want to reach for her bracelets.
“But you have such gorgeous eyes, Mr. Barton. Such a gorgeous colour. It’s a shame not to emphasize your best asset.”
The inarticulate noise Clint makes in response falls somewhere between What Did I Just Step In? and Hulk meets Loki. Natasha, for her part, wonders just how the woman managed to miss Clint’s arms. No matter. She puts her hand on her partner’s shoulder.
“I am relaxed. You should see me when I’m tense.”
Of course Natasha has -- rather often actually -- but arguing the point would be counter-productive. Clint has spared no one (including the hapless guy tasked with trying to keep his hair from sticking up) his opinion about being strong-armed into playing nice in front of a camera.
“The Mandarin incident and the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. have given both the Avengers Initiative and Stark Industries a bad name. The brand needs to be repositioned in a more positive light,” Pepper’s e-mail had said. “We need you to help us out a little. And no, Clint, PR is not short for prostitution.”
Hill’s message had been just as direct.
“This is a prophylactic effort,” it had said, “to help people overlook the damage you lot will doubtless cause the next time there’s trouble. Consider this a service to humanity. Hard as it might be for be for anyone to see you in that light, Barton.”
Clint, who prefers short, Fury-type explanations (“he needs killing”) had stopped reading halfway through.
“Yeah, and you know where Hill can stick that prophylactic of hers?”
But, free rent is free rent, the (former) boss is still kind of the boss, and so here they are, an hour later, Clint still sputtering.Read more on AO3