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ROUND TWENTY-TWO
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Clint loves to make presents... a shirt he buys on a mission, a shell necklace from the beach, flowers, just little knick-knacks he sees and reminds him of the people he loves, just to make them smile...
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"What the hell is this, Barton?" Tony asks, holding up a vacuum sealed package. It takes a second to get an answer, because Clint is only still about halfway inside his t-shirt. Tony waits until his head pops through the collar and he peers over before holding the heavy plastic up and giving Clint a quizzical look.
"I don't know," Clint shrugs. "Food, I think. I hope. We ate enough of it on stakeout that it had better be food ( ... )
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"Look," Clint says the next time he comes back from some secret agent jaunt, and drops himself into Tony's lap. "Got you something."
"I didn't realize you were on vacation," Tony says, as Clint slides his weight off, to sit sideways with his knees bent and bridging Tony's legs. He sets a small pyramidal paperweight on one knee, in front of Tony' face, balancing it before carefully releasing.
"Ta dah."
"I'm going to take a wild guess about where you went."
"You'd be wrong," Clint says, "It was a whole one level above your clearance, so don't ask questions, Barton deal. I could only bring you misleading things."
"How about a penguin?" Tony suggests.
"I said misleading," Clint jokes, and leans his head against Tony's shoulder, "Now you don't have to go paperless. As a company, I mean."
"Yes. Lack of a paperweight is exactly what that was about. Thank god you've freed us to go back to chopping down the rainforests ( ... )
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It's a pointless rush, because Clint's still out cold, pale and bandaged and with monitors beeping steadily at his bedside. Tony swallows, then swallows again, then sits down to wait again. At some point, Steve or Bruce or someone brings him coffee, but after taking a sip or two to calm appease them, it sits untouched and cooling on the side table next to a depressing plastic water cup.
Clint's okay. He's supposed to be fine, and coming out of it soon, and before Tony can panic about how long it's taking, Clint's face scrunches in discomfort and he makes a low complaining noise.
"Hi Clint," Tony whispers, more so Clint will wake to a familiar voice than anything, "Hello. Welcome back."
Clint makes a damp mmgh sound, and shifts uncomfortably ( ... )
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Oh my god! This is sooo cute!! Love it!! Thanks!! ;)
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Thanks for reading.
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So do I! :)
Boy, you've got their snappy patter down just right. :)
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:D This pairing is all about the banter for me. :D :D
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Of course you can, but please you the (slightly) cleaned up version here:
http://archiveofourown.org/works/1227193
where I've fixed some garbled sentences and such.
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