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THIS ROUND IS NOW CLOSED.
ROUND ONE
closing at 3000 comments
Please read the [rules] before commenting!
PROMPT FORMATTING:
Alphabetize pairings. They will be archived that way!
Put [RPF] before RPF prompts.
Put [Crossover] before crossover prompts.
Please use this format: Steve/Tony, Tony needs help adjusting his arc reactor ; Clint/Coulson, AU ( Read more... )
Fury showing up on his doorstep is never good news. Fury showing up on his doorstep with a folder, unannounced with Phil Coulson at his side is a subtle way of screaming 'TWENTY MINUTES TO THE END OF THE WORLD RUN TO ALL YOUR LOVE ONES AND SAY GOODBYE OR STAY AND HELP ME'.
Tony stands aside without a word, letting the two men in. It's been three years... There years since that damn fiasco in Germany, what the hell do they want with him now? Natasha is quietly teaching Jarvis Russian in the living room; looking up when his 'guests' follow him in. "Jay," he picks up his son, noting that Natasha has the foresight to gather his crayons, "Jay, daddy needs you to go get dressed. We're going for ice-cream, ok?"
"Ice-cream!" Bright blue eyes light up as the boy wiggles out of his arms, sprinting down the hallway to his room. He catches his point woman's eyes as she makes to follow Jarvis. Don't worry. I got this. It is through years and years of knowing each other that he catches the slight nod and the tightening of her lips as she turns.
The folder is a non-descriptive brown manila. Fury has taken the seat by the fireplace while Coulson has his eyes scanning the perimeter of the room before dropping his gaze on to Tony. "Get to the point Fury. What do you want?" There is a twitch at the corner of Fury's lips that could've been mistaken for anything but a smile. "You've got 5 minutes. And then I'm going to politely escort you out as we happen to be going for ice-cream."
"We need you to do a job-"
"No can do. I told you before, Fury. I don't do this anymore." Tony leans back against the door frame, hands in his pockets. "I thought I made it clear the day I had Jarvis that I don't want any part of this-"
"-and that you'll be damned before you got your kid growing up the same way your daddy had you growing up." Fury interjected, nodding as he speaks. Nick Fury had and will always unnerve Tony. Especially sitting there in the midst of his living room with one eye in a patch, casually assessing him like one of those dour headmasters of his youth. "Look in the file. You can decide after you see what's on the table."
Another wary glance at the two men, Tony leans forward and takes the file.
The words blur after he re-reads them for the thirtieth time, sentences mixing and melding together until only two words stood clear: STEVE ROGERS
Jarvis is playing by the swings. Natasha has her eye on the boy, so he's not too worried. "So are you going to take it?" She asks, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. Tony smiles. It's what he likes about her; unafraid to broach the subjects that others will take time to circle around. In a way, Natasha has been good for Pepper.
"What do you think I should do?" He cradles the warmth of hot coffee in his hands. It's a cool late September afternoon but the chill in Tony's bones is that of a sense of foreboding, of shadows and storms in the horizon.
Natasha is quiet as they watch Jarvis play. Pepper will be here soon, and they'll be off for an evening at the cinema. "I think," the Russian begins as they spot Jarvis running towards a slender woman with Pepper's impeccable style "I have some phone calls to make."
I'm planning to just add as I go along? :D We'll see.
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Their last job had gone bad 9 ways to Sunday, ending with two broken ribs and some new bruises and cuts for Thor's collection and a mild concussion for Clint. Given the shit they'd been through the last 3 months, in retrospect it wasn't so bad. Sure they could've done the job (a simple extraction of the location of a will that they were told to extract from the Mark; a lawyer with a love for the high life and very young boys) but Thor... Thor saw him again. Dark hair whipping in the winds of the dreamscape, long fingers stroking the rim of the champagne flute as their eyes met. Thor was never one to run.
Clint had grabbed his arm, breathing the words "We have no time" eventhough he knew it'd do nothing to deter his partner.
"Please Clint..." There was a streak of bright desperation in his voice that Clint is slowly getting used to. Blue eyes wide as he looks up, watching the Shade slide into the shadow of a hidden corner.
Clint digs his fingers deep (deep enough that Thor can feel the pinpricks of pain on his arm), pulling the taller man closer. "You've got 5 minutes. 5 minutes no more, no less or I'll shoot myself."
Loki is as he remembers; tall, slender this side of slightly underweight, skin glowing warm gold under the lantern lights. Sometimes Thor wonders if Loki still kisses the same. But he'll never kiss him here. Not like this. Thor runs a shaky hand through his hair, "If I told you that you're not supposed to be here, would you leave?"
His brother (no, never brother-loverbelovedfriendpartnersoulmateforever, not the lies) smiles slowly, lips curling and Thor can't quite figure out whether it is a nice smile or not. "Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?" Cool green eyes sparkled darkly and Thor will never admit that it's that gleam that makes his heart skip a beat. "Do you miss me?" He asks softly, body pressed shoulder to shoulder that the body heat seeps through their clothing. "Do you still remember me?"
Thor leans into the hand cupping his cheek. He allows himself a small kiss to Loki's wrist. "Always."
And that's when the shit metaphorically hit the jet turbines.
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"It must be important or you won't have called."
"Cutting to the chase, I'm impressed. I see your communication skills have improved." A slight pause and Thor can hear the soft rustles of cloth, "We need you for a job. Simple extraction with the catch that Uncle Sam is signing our paychecks this time. It's a 7 by my reckoning and if you can find that damn bastard forger Barton..."
Thor smiles, "He's here. But if you need us, you're going to have to wait a couple of days." He lets the inflection of his words sink in, huffing a breath as he shifts to get more comfortable in the ratty leather armchair. "So I guess Tony's back in, huh?"
"Yeah." For as long as Thor has known her, Natasha has always been a woman of few words, always choosing instead to express herself through small gestures that might not seem much to others, but speak volumes for those who truly see and know her. "Look, Thor... If you want to sit this one out, I can understand." And he can see her biting her lip as she casts a worried look to the distance. It's nice of her, but...
"I think I still owe Tony two shots of whiskey after our last get together."
Natasha snorts, her amusement clear over the line. "Rendezvous at the old pick up joint in two days. And tell that idiot... Tell him to ease up on the painkillers." And she promptly hangs up on him.
Ignoring the sudden shot of pain lancing up his side, he swigs the half empty bottle of Jack. Some days (nowadays) it's hard to remember that before they were Tony and Natasha, Clint and Thor, they were Tony and Steve, Natasha and Clint, Thor and Loki.
AN: So yeah... I'm going through the 'Assembling' parts first.
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The heat of the midday sun is suffocating. Bruce drinks his absinthe in one shot, wincing in the after burn. The shit tastes god awful and is more than definitely detrimental to his health in the long run but he couldn’t care less. Shifting in his seat, he pulls at his sweat soaked shirt, willing it to release its’ clammy hold on his heated skin.
There are a few people on the beach with him, most of them dozing in their sun chairs while others are gently testing the surf. It really is very hot.
“I think you should turn on your air-conditioning before you go under next time.” Bruce leans back to squint at the figure blocking his sun. The outline is familiar, so is the smug smile on the tanned man’s face.
“Hello Tony. I see you’re still alive then?”
The projections around him stop and begin to glare. One young lady scowls murderously, marring her otherwise pretty features. Tony leans down to sit down next to him, pulling a beer from a cooler at his feet, smiling genially at Bruce. “Try calling off your alarms system, Bruce. I’d rather not die before we have our little chat.”
“Why couldn’t you just call me? We could be doing this over coffee.” The projections all turn, going back to their activities. “Like normal people.”
Tony laughs a deep throaty sound. “Bruce, we are anything, everything and nothing under the fucking sun, but normal? Normal isn’t one of them. Besides,” He tilts his sunglasses, “you’ve got two heavies in the apartment down the hall. Natasha is dealing with them as we speak.”
The chemist hums non-committal, watching the surf break. “You’ve got 5 minutes, so talk.”
Watching the grin that curves Tony’s lips, makes Bruce thinks (not for the first time) that he’s spending too much time with Romanoff. “Fury’s got a job for us. Uncle Sam’s payroll, simple extraction of information. It’ll be like a reunion for all of us; the band getting back to play one last show. Tasha’s already gotten Thor and Clint on board. All that’s left is you.”
A fresh glass of absinthe prepared just the way he likes appears on the sand at his side. The chemist lets the other man stew before asking, “Can’t you ask Yusuf? I hear he’s got one hell of a new compound that he’s using in his den.” It’s true. The chemist in Mombasa and his dream den were notorious in their circuit for producing dreams with mind blowing definitions.
“He’s running with Cobb’s crew these days. Besides, you’ve heard the rumours right?”
“We all hear the same rumours, the same legends.” Bruce remarks drily. A pause, “Do you think it could be done though? Inception?” Is it him or is that little boy in the distance looking a little... evil?
“Eames says it’s not impossible, just really bloody difficult.” Tony shrugs, “And I really don’t care because what I really need is your answer. Are you in?” The shapely ladies have abandoned their tanning, walking briskly with what seemed like nail files in their hands.
Bruce gets up; loading the gun he keeps in the bottom of his beach bag. “I want first class tickets. And you’re paying.” He smiles when Tony lifts two fingers in mock salute, watching calmly as the bullet makes a smooth circular entry wound in Tony’s head. The projections suddenly stop, looking bewildered. He knows he’s probably got another good five minutes more of this dream to go. Shrugging as he lifts the unnaturally cold steel to his temple, beaches weren’t all that relaxing anyways.
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“If you’re going to spend the whole morning staring like a pervert at me, please do so without waking me. I can hear you think.” He doesn’t turn to face him, but Thor can hear the smile in his voice.
Thor chuckles, leaning over to press a kiss on sleep warmed shoulders. He remembers this. The ease of which they’d interacted; snarking and biting but never without love. Loki feels the same, soft skin always slightly cooler than normal temperatures allow, the soft curls of his hair catching on the tips of his fingers when he runs through them. Thor presses another kiss, this time between juts of shoulder blades and another on the base of Loki’s skull.
It’s like a slice of paradise whenever they’re like this. When it’s just their bodies pressed together close, sandwiched in between the sheets, safe from the world...
Loki snuffles quietly into his pillow when he sneaks his arm around him. The blonde closes his eyes only to frown when his hand touches on something cold and wet.
“Did you really think I loved you?” Loki’s voice says suddenly, the cold edge of cruelty dripping in every syllable. Thor opens his eyes, scrambling back in shock, a shout dead on his lips.
His lover is lying on his back, a jagged cut running from his throat to his navel. The snow white linens are soaked red with blood. Thor gasps. The face he loves is disfigured; a broken sham of everything he’s loved of Loki’s features. Milky green eyes look straight at him unseeing, skinless lips curling in the mockery of a smile.
“Do you still love me now?”
“Thor! Hey, buddy! Thor!” His eyes snap open before he squints in the sudden assault of the midday sun. Clint is looming over him, shaking him to fitful waking awareness. But his shadow is safe presence as he tries, and fails to quiet his heart. “Dude. We’re here.” He says, slapping his thigh but not before throwing him a worried look.
Thor feels the plane taxi to a stop and the passengers all get up to disembark. He clenches his hands into tight fists and grabs at his totem , feeling the edges catch against his skin. It is only when he is walking towards the gates that he realises that he had just had his first natural dream in 8 years.
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I'm enjoying the setup here. Also, Tony mentioning Eames? Is making me think of those two having wild parties with Steve and Arthur looking on disapprovingly, which is a pretty awesome mental image, so thanks for that, lol. Hope you had a good Christmas, and I look forward to more of this fic.
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Hahaha! That's an interesting image you have there... That'll be a fearsome foursome to consider, now would it? You should see my little notebook. I'm having trouble reading my chicken scratches about where to proceed from here. I'm trying to engineer a move from my house now to my new place three states over (not easy), so you'll have to be patient (sorry! >.<;) for the update. Again, Have a great New Year! Stay safe and have fun ♥
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"Can I just officially say that I really, really don't feel good about all this?" Clint growled.
There is a collective silence over their table in 'The Blue Armand'; a restaurant with floors that had not seen the underside of a mop for over 15 years. But those who walk through their doors weren't usually there for the selections of Sicilian cuisine. No. Because the moment you step through their doors, they will have had a snapshot of your face run through every database in the world, with every single gun in the hall trained surreptitiously at you. And if you've got the 'creds', you'd be shown to either the den in the basement, or a table of your own for 'business transactions'. At the 'Armand', silence and secrets were part of the business.
Natasha merely flicks a toothpick at him. "You said as much in the last 15 minutes, and you know we all feel the same." It was true. If they'd been anywhere else, there would've been people making phonecalls that more than likely would land three quarters of their team in jail. Or worse.
Tony was swirling the bourbon in his glass, staring meaningfully into the amber liquid as if it would reveal the secrets he seeks. Thor was watching the early morning crowd of bankers and traders bustle in and out of their tall gleaming symbols of wealth and illusion of power. It always puts him on an edge whenever they were in a city. Bruce had his head buried behind the morning paper. They were waiting for someone. But who?
"Good morning gentlemen. Lady." Phil Coulson seamlessly slides into the remaining chair at the table. Natasha fights the urge to smirk at Clint suddenly sitting up and taking his sunglasses off (they're douchey and nothing he says could make them cool) as Coulson passes their briefing packets around. No matter what their secondary point and sometimes extractor may say about not having any place in his heart for anything other than dreams, Natasha was sure even a blind man would know the neon signs that light up whenever the SHIELD agent was around.
The briefing was a short and smooth affair. They have chosen their team, knowing perfectly well what was at stake. This was personal. As they step out into the morning sun, each going on their own way at least for the day, they only wonder what will the end of this job bring.
SPOILERY FOR AVENGERS MOVIE LOOK AWAY: There wasn't enough Thor/Loki moments in it, I'm sorry Mr. Whedon.
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It's been open in one of my tabs for the past 4 months. I-it's not like I really like where this is going o-or anything!
Please continue, you wonderful tease oh you.
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I love you too, my dear. ♥ ♥ ♥
Watched the movie yet? *huuuuge puss in boots eyes*
But seriously though... I initially put this up in the completed fills post. Should I put it in the WIP post as well?
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