Entry tags:
"Intelligence" Gathering
Natasha literally cannot believe this worked.
They sure don't make henchmen assassins the way they used to.
The door is simple, nondescript. Standard hinge placement says it's American. The other side is equally ordinary, while being just bare enough to scream 'safe house' to any seasoned agent. It's a perfectly acceptable but sparsely decorated sitting room. Throw rug placed just randomly enough to likely be covering a cache of sorts, or a hidden room.
"Want anything to drink?"
They sure don't make henchmen assassins the way they used to.
The door is simple, nondescript. Standard hinge placement says it's American. The other side is equally ordinary, while being just bare enough to scream 'safe house' to any seasoned agent. It's a perfectly acceptable but sparsely decorated sitting room. Throw rug placed just randomly enough to likely be covering a cache of sorts, or a hidden room.
"Want anything to drink?"
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Hearing other-him is a good dad gets a smile, at least. "Yeah? Well, that's good. Who's the lady crazy enough to put up with me? Is it Bobbi?"
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Out of there, she retrieves a small envelope and hands it to Clint. It's just one photo, wrapped in a hand written letter.
For your inevitable old-lady scrapbook:
From last year's 4th of July barbecue. The kids wouldn't stop talking about the fun they had with you watching 'em. Thanks from the Bartons, 'Auntie' Natasha.
It's a photo of Clint in a ridiculous grill apron, with a dark haired woman at his side, and two kids waving eagerly into the camera. All happy, smiling faces.
"...I know it's a liability for me to keep that. I try to be careful with it."
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Okay that's enough feels. Natasha puts is away and smirks.
"I mean, don't give yourself too much credit either, Barton. Your kids still get stuck with half your DNA."
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Nat can be more like herself around Clint. More than she can with anyone else. Especially since...yeah, not dealing with that right now.
"I'll be around a lot more often. I'm on assignment there. Fury wants me to collect some information."
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Clint can see a shadow of something in her expression--so like the Nat he knows--but he knows well enough to leave it alone (and that with Nat, there's always a shadow; she's Russian).
"Yeah, I'll bet he does. What's he got you lookin' for? Cosmic cube, Galactus' loofah?
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As much as an Avenger who isn't dead or crippled can retire. Unless you're the Hulk, in which case you fuck off whenever it pleases you and--damn, not. Dealing. With this. Right now. Twitch.
"Anyway, I heard some intel there's a Cap on your side too. That's...convenient. Yours or a whole 'nother one?"
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"Heh. Fury just wants a roll call--don't let 'em through the door, there's no hi-threat anybody. Uh, mostly--there was that demon thing a while back."
Retired? That doesn't sound like any Avenger he knows. Back-benching it on the reserve list, sure, but once an Avenger, always an Avenger.
"Uh, not exactly a Cap. There's a Steve Rogers, though, decent guy--like that's a shock."
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There's never really retirement, but Natasha knows that Clint and Tony especially need some time away. They've more than earned it.
"Demons." It's a question even when it doesn't sound like it. All the more reason she should be here, then. "Where do they fall on the scale from HYDRA thug to Ch'tari invasion?"
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"'Yet another?' Ch'tari? How many portals you got openin' up?"
He's curious, but he doubts he'll get the whole story. Not telling Cap also doesn't sit well with him, but he knows better than to lecture the super-spy.
"Uh, I don't know Ch'tari, so I'll say... worse than the Kree, but not as bad as Thanos. Pretty close, though. If you get any, call Doc Strange first, don't let Tony pull that 'all magic can be explained' crap."
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They can agree on that term right? it's probably the same thing.
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"Huh. Haven't run into the Kree yet. Okay, they're human-lookin', except they're blue, but they can make themselves pink if they try. They're sorta space-fascists, and they're ruled by a big, giant head. Their capital's a world called Hala, and they're at war with the Skrulls from Andromeda. They're mostly jerks, but there's some good ones, too."
He nods. "Alien invasion. Like I said, jerks."
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A nice way of relating that story, to say the very least.
"Also maybe stay away from Loki."
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"A shiny cube you're not supposed to touch--the Cosmic Cube? Yeah, not touchin' that, no way."
"Loki is... complicated. And a really long story that I don't know all of."
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I don't want to lose you again.
Nat's not certain she could handle losing anyone else right now. When did she go so soft?
"Just trust me on that one."
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"Okay. I'll stay away from Lokis, I promise." That's going to be an interesting promise to keep, given that there's a kid Loki running around in the Nexus, and that he's friends with Verity, but what is life if not interesting?
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"I'll give you the code to this door. In case I ever need backup. In case you ever need me."
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"Thanks. For all of it." Clint's smile grows into a grin because yeah, his reckless ass totally jumps into danger. "I'll keep it quiet."
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You talk too well for always having been deaf. DId something happen I should be careful of?
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Clint signs back, doubt it. You said I left my place in Bed-Stuy, that's where this happened. Some tracksuit mafia, a real East European grab-bag, were fighting with me over my building. Their hit-clown stabbed me in the ears and shot Barney. Dick. They're dealt with.
The sign for "hit-clown" is probably an interesting one.
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Natasha smirks at Clint's signing for 'hit clown' because he's already doing it. She also makes a mental note to find Clint's door and add a few people to her list. No one hurts her friends and gets away with it.
"I've already got one for you. DO you prefer to be--"
Coffee Zombie? Or Poor Life Choices?
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Clint gives her a look of reproach.
What do you call your me?
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"My Clint was sent to kill me. He made a different call. Then again, he also makes calls to jump off of buildings and taunt villains daily. He's affectionately both of those names, too. That's why I asked."
It's difficult to keep in mind that they are strangers, no matter how much he resembles her friend. She shouldn't even trust him.
"I take it you and I are not so close as to tease, in your world."
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"Well, I try, but you like to do that 'stoic Russian' thing. We've... got some kinda history, though. When I was starting out, she played me like a fiddle more'n once. Yay Cold War, huh?" Doesn't he seem a little young for that? "If it's a choice, I think I'd rather be Coffee Zombie. Heh, the zombie sign's fun."
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"It can change as often as you'd like. I only picked this up for silent communication. That was before cell phones though."
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"Fair enough. Heh, coffee zombie--I think I've got next Halloween nailed down."