Natalia (the_black_widow) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-05-08 22:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, clint barton (hawkeye), natasha romanoff (black widow) |
"I trade cars like shoes, Clint."
Who: Natasha and Clint
What: Discussion over crepes and relationship advice!
When: Today
Where: Black Widow set and then a crepe shop. Because that's how Hawkeye rolls.
Status: Complete!
Rating: PG-13 for Natasha in a catsuit
The shooting had gone pretty well. Clint had managed to handle the explosions without going completely mental. He'd just taken out the hearing aids for the majority of that, and it had worked. Now, they were calling a halt to the shot and he was free to whisk Tasha away somewhere. "Hey, Comrade." he greeted her, grinning. "Long time, no see."
She was still wearing a skintight black catsuit. She would need to be peeled out of it, even with the zipper practically down to her belly button. How people breathed in this things she'll never know, "You did wonderfully. Barely even singed." She through him a mock soviet salute.
"Why thank you. I did my best." Clint laughed. "You weren't so bad yourself, 'Tash. Liked the moves."
Tasha bumped her hip against his, "Of course you liked the moves."
"How could I not?" Clint grinned in an over the top flirty way. "You're good is all. I appreciate that."
"I'm flattered, Barton." She patted his arm, "Now feed me while we talk about whatever it is you wanted to talk to me about."
"Your wish is my command." Clint lead her off to his car so they could hit up a nearby crepe place. Seemed interesting to check out but you couldn't go there as a guy alone so...
"I should change, wardrobe would kill me!" Tasha might be protesting but she was following along anyway. Wardrobe could kiss her form-fitted ass.
"Let them." Clint grinned at her. "They can afford it." Really, they could, and he knew that. Wardrobe could kiss his ass too, if it was a big problem.
She grinned, "An attractive red-head wandering around in a catsuit." Like that would ever happen regularly in real life. Hah!
"I know, right?" Clint laughed. "People might assume things about us." Which was a weird thought. What they had was beyond that kind of thing.
She'd first met him at another shoot - something told her she could trust him, and that was a feeling she rarely ignored. It was nice to have a friend who was only marginally in showbiz. He was also really handsome - the tabloids were going to be interesting tomorrow.
She climbed into his car and reclined back, pulling on a large pair of sunglasses.
Clint slipped in next to her and got the car started as he pulled away, and hoped the cameras didn't follow them too badly today. "So. How's things in your life?" he asked her.
"Had a wardrobe malfunction earlier this week, the pictures were on the internet within an hour," She replied, rolling her eyes. "I might just do a topless scene and get it over with."
"Geez." Clint shook his head. "I know those things are a good asset but I'd hate that if I were you. Make me feel dirty and all." he added as he pulled in. "Anyone's ass needs kicking you can let me know."
"Da, thank you." She laughed, and looked out the window as they drove, "I've managed to keep my top on so far, I don't really plan on changing that." There was a headline once, the 'Cleanest Dirty Girl in Hollywood.' She had framed it.
"That's a good thing then. Less of that." Clint parked and went around to grab her door, since that was what you did, and all. Not that this was a date date but, still. The niceities.
She let him do it, having long ago given up protesting such things, and slid out of the car. She tried to zip her catsuit up a bit more, and then walked into the bakery, "So what do we have in here?"
"Crepes." Clint laughed. "Sorry, I can't think of anybody else who'd...There's someone in my life now, but..." he shook his head. "It's a little too romantic too soon to drag her into, you know? Trying to take it slow."
"Creeps? Oh, Crepes." She raised her eyebrow, fighting a mild surge of that-couldn't-possibly-be-jealousy. "Tell me about her?"
"Well, we met on the valarnet thing." Cllint explained. "It's still, well, friends at this point. She doesn't say but...I'm pretty sure someone's hurt her before..." And it was maybe a little awkward to talk about this with Natasha, but, well, he also knew she'd get it. "And I don't always know how much is too much and when. Confusing."
"Has she said anything to you? Express interest?" It was important to know if this was a one-sided thing, or not.
"well, we seem to have a good time together." Clint admitted. "And we sometimes talk about...well, there have been those moments. YOU know." he shook his head a tiny bit. "Hints but nothing BIG."
"I see." She pointed at something she wanted, "I think..that you need to decide if it is worth pursuing as more than friends. There are no rewards without risks."
"I think it's leaning that way." Clint admitted. "and it's funny. We both...the whole THING is based on us taking risks, but not the rest...It's weird. I guess this has to do with...well, I told you about last time." Last time back when he'd still been in the army and it had ended kind of...badly.
"You have less responsibility now," She pointed out, picking a seat and sitting down. "It is not like you go around in the dark beating up gangsters."
"Could you imagine me doing that, really?" Clint shook his head and laughed as he joined her with their drinks while he waited for the order number to come up.
"Preposterous." She laughed, then winked at him flirtily, "Though you'd look good in a catsuit."
"Catsuits...." Clint snickered a little. "I'll keep it in mind for someday. Maybe some kind of costume."
"If you're serious I'm taking away your bow."
Gasp. "Never!" Clint exclaimed, shaking his head. "I'll protect it with my life and limb first."
"Its just a bow, you can always get another! I'll buy you one!"
"Not the same." Clint shook his head. "We've BONDED, Tash. It's special to me and things. You know, like a car."
She leveled a gaze at him, "I trade cars like shoes, Clint."
"And here I thought women and shoes were in some long term love affair." He stuck out his tongue.
"I literally cannot wear the same pair twice, or I'll be ripped to shreds by people who have nothing better to do with their time than judge other peoples' wardrobes!"
"Aww that IS a pain." Clint clicked his tongue. "Sorry. I forget you're not, you know, normal sometimes." Little grin.
"Yes, I'm terribly put out to have so many shoes." She winked at him, and picked up her crepe after it arrived. Please god don't let anything drip.
Clint actually used his hands for his crepe. No seriously. It was kind of unattractive and a little gross how the filling oozed out, but it was also adorable in a way.
Yeah. Tasha decided to go for a fork. To avoid oozing on either costume OR breasts.
Good idea, really. Clint was licking his fingers off now, and looked kind of like a little kid as he did it. Aww.
Tasha rested her cheek on her hand, "You're five. Its cute. Whats her name?"
"Can't I be more like eight? Her name's Eowyn and it's...one of the few times I feel like somebody gets me since I've been back from Hell." Clint's face didn't take on a faraway look exactly, but his eyes got sad there for a minute. "I mean there's been you and...pretty much just you before."
She reached over, resting a hand over his, "If you want, I have a little place up in the Bay area you can borrow."
"If it comes to that..." Clint leaned forward, a smile on his face. "I think we'd really like that." They looked strangely intimate, didn't they? Sadly, Clint didn't even notice the cameras going off.
Tasha nodded her head, smiling, "I hope she works out. You deserve a little happiness."
"And how are you in that department these days?" Clint smiled back. "I did see another scumbag tried to make you look bad in the tabloids. Asshole."
She shrugged, "He deserved the spaghetti in his lap, for assuming it was more than dinner."
"Assuming. Making asses out of you and me." Clint shook his head. "Well, I'm pretty sure that everyone that matters knows the truth. And if not, they're not worth it."
"Thank you. I appreciate that."
"Just hope it's not causing you too much trouble." Clint shook his head. "That's the last that you deserve. What you need's somebody who'll see how amazing you are, and not because of the chest."
She nodded her head, "If you hadn't met Eowyn?"
"Maybe." Clint considered. "But I don't know for sure. I'm thinking you'd deserve, well, better."
"Don't sell yourself short, Barton." She waggled a finger at him, "You're a good man. That's all anyone could ask for."
"I don't know about good. I try." Clint shrugged. "But other people, well." he wasn't going to talk more about that now though, just. "I've done some things, you know?"
"It doesn't change who you are." She poked him in the chest, "There. As corny as that sounds."
Clint smiled. "Somehow you always know the right thing to say."
"I do. Now eat your crepe and try not to get jelly everywhere, da?"
"I will do my best." Clint snickered. Not that he'd succeed but...
"Good." She winked at him, and then crepes were devoured, without any spillage!