mrtonystark (mrtonystark) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-03-03 16:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, clint barton (hawkeye), tony stark (iron man) |
Who: Tony Stark and Clint Barton
When: Recently
Where: Tony’s Lab
What: Checking in
Rating/Warnings: Low/None
Status: Complete
Tony sent a text message to Clint, offering him a cup of coffee. He hadn’t checked in with his friend in a while, and wanted to make sure that everything was going all right with Clint. He wanted to ask about how the hearing aids were that he’d made. He had another design, a better one, and needed the data from the first to make sure he hadn’t corrupted anything in the transfer. So he asked Clint to come to the lab and check in with him.
He was busy soldering something when the door to his laboratory opened.
“...that’s not dangerous, is it?” Clint asked, warily, from the doorway. “Because I’ve got a dog with me, and it’s been awhile since I’ve had a flashback, but I’m pretty sure exploding things would trigger some kind of panic attack.”
Tony lifted the specs he had over his eyes and turned to look at his friend in the doorway. “You brought Lucky. Good.” Tony turned off the soldering iron and set it down carefully in its holster. “Not dangerous. Just computer parts.” He’d have to remember where he left off for next time.
Clint nodded and gestured at his head. “Figured the coffee was a thinly veiled excuse for you to get me here so you can play with this thing.” He knew Tony. “Also, the old man gets lonely if he’s left by himself. So uh...where do you want me?”
“What?” Tony looked honestly--okay, playfully--offended. “Thinly veiled excuse? Who, me? My honor.” He held a hand palm against his sternum. “You wound me, Sir.” Then he climbed up from his stool and motioned to another one for Clint to sit. “Here.”
He had a couple of pieces of equipment ready to download the data from the old ear piece and offer up a newer, smaller, more streamlined and comfortable (he hoped) one.
Tony’s mock-protests earned a smirk from Clint as he unclipped Lucky’s leash and sat down on the stool. He tipped his head to the side, and fished out his hearing aid before depositing it on Tony’s counter.
He wondered how long Tony would continue talking before he noticed.
If the question was how long Tony could go on talking, the answer was ‘indefinitely.’ Of course, Tony started to ramble about the new hearing aid, not looking at Clint directly. He went on about specs and new software, and all sorts of amazing things that only Tony Stark (and others as techno-nerdy as he was) could find interesting. Finally he turned back over to Clint, holding the new device in the palm of his hand.
...but Clint wasn’t listening, was he? Tony paused, mid-sentence, and raised an eyebrow.
Clint’s expression was comically blank and then he bent his right hand at a 45 degree angle, turned his left hand palm up, then tapped the open palm, eyebrow raised.
Repeat?
Tony understood the gesture. It was one of the ones that he’d learned in his ASL class. (Okay, private tutor. Mostly online. Youtube videos and the like. But seriously, he’d paid someone to teach him.) He’d learned it as again, but the message came through. He shook his head a little, waving a hand as if dismissing that thought.
“Here. New.” He said, holding out the new device to Clint. “Should be better.”
Clint rolled his eyes again and then plucked the new device from Tony’s fingers. “Which version is this? Have you reached double digits?”
“No.” Tony smirked softly. “Not yet, anyway.” They were up to eight-point-oh. But he wasn’t going to let Clint win. He gave a playful, encouraging, circular gesture with his hand. Hurry it up, already. Tony wanted to see if the new design was going to do all the things he wanted it to. Then he picked up the old device and moved to plug it into his computer.
Obediently, Clint switched on the new device and slipped it in. There was a moment of disorientation, and Lucky, perhaps sensing it, put his head on Clint’s thigh. Clint scratched his head, affectionately, and then spoke. “So, what’s so special about this one?”
“The sensitivity.” Tony explained. Well, he answered. It would take a long time and a lot of expertise to explain exactly how the nuances of the new machine worked. “Should be much better at blocking out background noise and letting you focus on what you want to focus on. How’s it sound?”
“Like I have one headphone in,” Clint quipped. But it wasn’t a bad thing--it meant he could hear. He tilted his head to one side. “Stereo cost too much?”
“Like price is any object,” Tony snorted. “You need the other one, I assume?” He finished connecting the old device to the computer and started up the data retrieval program, then dug around on his workbench for the second earpiece. He brought it over and held it out to Clint.
Clint snagged the other one and put it in the other ear, smiling a little, and tilting his head from one side to the other. “Not sure if I’ll like it,” he admitted, “but I was curious. Say something.”
“What do you want me to say?” Tony asked, getting a good look at Clint’s ear. The thing was practically invisible. He needed to mass manufacture these. It could help a lot of people. “I could sing.” He offered, breaking into a smirk.
“Is your voice any better here?” Clint deadpanned.
“The devices are good, but they’re not that good.” Beat. “Maybe I should include an autotune function.”
Clint laughed, loud and genuine, and then pulled the old one out, placed it on the counter and smiled. “Yeah it’s...weird. I think I like the mono better,” he admitted, thoughtfully. “I think I’m finally getting used to it.”
It was nice to hear his friend laugh.
“Hey, I can make whatever you want me to make. Just list your specifications.” Tony moved over to the computer and started frantically typing on the keyboard. He was transferring the data into more manageable chunks--tidbits of info that he could compress and analyze.
“I know,” Clint replied. Because he did. Tony was capable of making the impossible happen--even if he’d cuss you out for asking for the impossible. That was just Tony’s way. “You should really be mass producing this shit, though.”
Tony snorted again. “It’s like you read my mind.” He said, and gave his friend a smirk. “You want a drink?” He wanted to pick Clint’s brain about this legacy business. Again. Since he’d been thinking about it off and on since their first conversation on the topic.
“...I’m driving home,” Clint said, and shook his head. “I’ll pass. What’s on your mind?” Because Tony used alcohol as both an offensive weapon and a defensive maneuver, and he wasn’t sure which it was yet.
Damnit. Clint knew him too well. This conversation could happen sober, sure. Tony crossed his arms and leaned back against the desk, crossing his legs at the ankle, too. “This legacy business.” Tony said, cautiously. “Yours wasn’t picked for you in the Dreams, and just showed up here?”
It’d been over a month since he and Tony had had that talk--it surprised Clint that Tony was still thinking about it. “I was dead. In the Dreams. She basically picked herself--a bunch of them did. They called themselves the Young Avengers. There was one of you, too, if I remember right. Iron Kid, or something.” He gave Tony a long look. “You’re not dying or anything, are you?”
That actually made Tony’s eyes go a little wide. “...do I die in your Dreams?” he asked, sounding a bit more nervous about it than he’d have liked.
“Not so far,” Clint replied, honestly. “There was this thing--awhile ago you were basically brain dead, but Cap and Pepper brought you back.” He shrugged. “No big.”
Relief. And curiosity. Tony cleared his throat a little, making a mental note to press Clint for more details on that one later. “So.” Back on subject. “Your legacy. Girl legacy.” He added, raising an eyebrow. “She’s here? Why did she choose… to be you?”
“She’s here--but as far as I know, she hasn’t. Here, I mean. I don’t think she’s dreamed, yet.” He scrubbed his chin lightly, and then the back of his neck. “But she was an archer there. She found my bow at Avengers Mansion--which, I have to admit, I kind of miss--and I was dead, so.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t like I was going to fight her for it--though I did make her give my bow back,” he added, pointedly.
“Huh.” Tony paused. “So you didn’t ask her, or enlist her.” He assumed. “She just took up your bow and started fighting crime in your name?” That wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.
“Yeah well...that’s kind of Cap’s fault, I think,” Clint admitted. “Proteges kind of went out of vogue when his died--or we thought he did, anyway.” But that was another story. “That group--the Young Avengers--they decided they were going to be heroes, and fuck anyone who told them different--including you,” he added, and then shrugged.
Tony couldn’t help smirking a little at that. He knew the whole superhero thing was dangerous, but that sort of attitude he could appreciate. “...your… girl. Girl Hawkeye, or whatever. She’s here… you don’t think that this Iron Kid might show up? Because I’d hate to start training someone else up and then be stuck with two.”
“She’s Hawkeye too,” Clint corrected. “I mean, Hawkeye, also. And from what I understand, the guy calling himself Iron Kid was actually Kang the Conqueror from the future, who sent himself back in time to try to prevent himself from becoming Kang the Conqueror--and his fancy armor had nothing to do with you, so I don’t think you really have anything to worry about.”
Tony raised both eyebrows. “Time Travel?” He leaned in a little, obviously curious. “How exactly did he--wait.” He cleared his throat. “Back burnered.” He’d ask about that another time. Now he wanted to know about Hawkeye Also. “I guess what I’m trying to ask is…” He paused for a long moment, then realized he’d picked up all the answers he needed. “...actually, I’m not really trying to ask anything. I’ve got a kid in mind to train to use Jarvis, to set up in one of the suits.” Now all he had to do was talk to Stiles about it.
It took a moment for Clint to follow that--hearing aid notwithstanding--but then it clicked. “You want a legacy. Or a partner, maybe. A team?” He shifted his weight on the stool, and hummed a little. “You know...I wanted to become a hero because of you,” he admitted. He wasn’t sure if it was the same in Tony’s verse, but it didn’t really matter. “I wanted to be a hero because you were. You inspired me. And being on a team with you? That was everything. You vouched for me, to the other Avengers. Cap. Thor.” He waved a hand. “I may have decided to be a hero, but you made me one.”
Did Tony want to be a part of a team? Like The Avengers? He was about to interject and insist that he wanted a sidekick rather than a partner, but he wasn’t sure that was true. Tony paused for a long moment, considering Clint’s words carefully. “I’m honored you think so highly of me,” he said uncharacteristically somberly.
Clint shrugged, knowing how Tony dealt with emotional confessions like that--which was to say, not very well at all, but he met Tony’s serious expression, and smiled. “I guess what I’m saying is--if you wanted to start up again. I’d be in. Natasha asked me to work for the Agency, but…” he made another gesture. “I know nothing about them, or what they do. I know you. I’d follow you.”
Damnit. Now Tony felt… stuff. Stuff he really wasn’t planning on feeling. He cleared his throat, standing up a little straighter, feeling guilty that he’d been thinking about recruiting Stiles when Clint was practically volunteering. “I’m not… looking to recruit a team,” he said, awkwardly. “Not exactly leadership material, but… if I was, you would be at the top of my list.” That part was absolutely true.
“Okay,” Clint replied, simply. And that was that. No pressure. “But I think you’d be a good leader. You take over S.H.I.E.L.D. for a little while.” Not that that turned out well, exactly, but still.
Tony clapped Clint on his shoulder. “That, my friend, is a story for a time when we both have a bit more alcohol.” He said, grinning his Cheshire Cat grin. “For now, I should get to these computations. You use those ear pieces whenever you feel like it, and report back to me at your leisure?”
Clint knew a dismissal by Tony when he saw one, and snorted lightly. “Sure. And let me know how the whole legacy thing turns out. This kid...he must be pretty special.”
Tony nodded, moving over to the computer. Truth was, he had feels. He had to process those feels, and he wanted to do that on his own. Not that he didn’t want Clint around, but… “I’ll keep you posted. He’s one of a kind.” Tony couldn’t hide how fond he was of Stiles.
Clint hummed, noncommittally, and rubbed his hand over Lucky’s face. “Must be.” Tony was, for the most part, a good judge of character--even if he still questioned the man’s faith in himself. “So, you want to order dinner?” he asked, changing the subject entirely. It was almost like he knew Tony, and when Tony needed to talk about anything other than the current subject. “I was invited for coffee, and so far, I have no coffee,” he added, slightly petulant.
“So, you want dinner instead of coffee?” Tony asked, glad for the subject change. He moved over to the computer and started to tap buttons. “Yeah, let my secretary know what you and Lucky want, we’ll have it delivered. Just give me minute here.”