Small Acts (series) by Bob5, Workerbee73, Inkvoices, and SugarFey (Explicit)
Fandom: THE AVENGERS (MOVIEVERSE)
Pairing: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Length: 17,336
Author on LJ: bob5fic, workerbee73, inkvoices, sugarfey
Author Website: Bob5 (AO3), Workerbee73 (AO3), Inkvoices (AO3), and SugarFey (AO3)
Why this must be read:
We get very little in the way of backstory for the movieverse versions of Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov in canon. Their backgrounds are blank slates with shadows leftover from the comics canon to be used as rough sign posts, and many authors have written stories trying to fill that in, and subsequently, "how they met" stories are incredibly prolific in the Clint/Natasha category.
Here, Bob5 and Workerbee73 begin there, and (with guest authors Inkvoices and SugarFey) craft a sweeping but intimate and darkly beautiful history between the two master assassins that is sparse, raw, and poetic by turns. It's not for the faint of heart - assassins after all are rarely nice or stable people. These are slightly darker versions of the characters than we see in the film; they're both rife with jagged edges and raw, easily opened wounds. Their relationship is equally dark and almost fragile, and based on subtle power exchange and at times an almost (if not outright) religious devotion.
One of the best parts of this particular series is how much meta and analysis is recorded alongside it - most of the series has a lot of commentary and conversation to be had in the comments. For that reason, if meta is a thing that interests you, I highly recommend reading the LiveJournal version of the story and check out the additional links in the master post.
And as always, if you like it, please take a moment to let the authors know. You'll absolutely make their day.
Excerpt from "Someone Else's Song"
“Such the gentleman,” she says dryly. “He shoots me, then puts me back together.”
He can tell the drugs are starting to take effect; her eyes are starting to glaze, but she remains in remarkable control. The dose he’s given her should have knocked out a man three times her size but she just leans back, pliant and watchful, those green eyes studying him.
“Is this penance?” she asks, watching him sew her up with the casual air of a third-party observer.
Clint shrugs. “Just seemed like a waste, that’s all.”
Her head lolls to the side and her smile is almost flirtatious. “Oh but that’s not all, is it? Not by a long shot. This wasn’t impulse. Something tells me you don’t do impulse.”
He suppresses a grin. “You mind telling that to the guys I work for? They seem to be under a different impression.”
She ignores him, continues the dissection. “No, definitely not impulse. You’ve been watching me too long for that.”
He looks up.
“What? You think I wouldn’t notice Kiev? Minsk? I started to think you'd never introduce yourself.”
He looks away again, busies himself with making a tourniquet for her arm.
“So what is it then?” she continues. “A trophy? A fuck? No,” she shakes her head, “I don’t think so. You wouldn’t go to this much trouble. Is it redemption?” She sees something in his face that gives her pause and sits up a bit.
“That’s it isn’t it?”
He doesn’t answer, doesn’t change his breathing or even make eye contact but somehow she knows she’s hit a nerve.
“Ahhhh, so it is.” Her smile is cold and offers no sympathy. “The knight and his quest.”
“I’m no knight,” he says simply.
“A cowboy perhaps?” she laughs, girlish and delighted. “No matter. Two sides, same coin. Both foolish, both lost.”
He tells himself it’s just the morphine talking and makes a point of ignoring her as he finishes dressing the last of her wounds.
“You think you know me?” she says after a lengthy silence, and the playfulness has faded into something else. “You think you’ve figured it out?” Her eyes are hard even as her voice drops to a purr. “Did you want to be the handsome man who saves me from the monsters?”
He stills and looks at her. She reaches out with her good arm and pulls him close, moving much too fast for a girl who should be barely conscious.
“Just don’t forget,” she says, fingers searching for a hold on his vest, pulling him towards her with unnatural strength, “cowboy, knight-errant, whatever you are-” She leans forward until their lips are nearly touching, until his vision is filled with only her, until the smell of blood floods his senses like a perfume.
“Don’t ever forget,” she whispers in that too-perfect English, caressing his cheek with blood-stained fingers, “…that I am one of them.”
A hairsbreadth away from a kiss, she passes out in his arms, blood red hair falling across her face, red still trickling from her mouth and a faint red smile on her lips.
He lays her down, watches her for a long time. Reminds himself that she’s a spy and a liar and a kid who grew up too hard and too fast. Reminds himself that words are weapons like anything else, just another piece of armor. He pays them no mind.
But as he watches the sun come up, he realizes she’s right about one thing-he is lost.
"Small Acts" AO3 or the Master Post on LJ
Author's Summary: "Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" The story of Clint and Natasha from first meeting to post movie, as told by David Cronenberg. A love story, deconstructed.
Pairing: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Length: 17,336
Author on LJ: bob5fic, workerbee73, inkvoices, sugarfey
Author Website: Bob5 (AO3), Workerbee73 (AO3), Inkvoices (AO3), and SugarFey (AO3)
Why this must be read:
We get very little in the way of backstory for the movieverse versions of Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov in canon. Their backgrounds are blank slates with shadows leftover from the comics canon to be used as rough sign posts, and many authors have written stories trying to fill that in, and subsequently, "how they met" stories are incredibly prolific in the Clint/Natasha category.
Here, Bob5 and Workerbee73 begin there, and (with guest authors Inkvoices and SugarFey) craft a sweeping but intimate and darkly beautiful history between the two master assassins that is sparse, raw, and poetic by turns. It's not for the faint of heart - assassins after all are rarely nice or stable people. These are slightly darker versions of the characters than we see in the film; they're both rife with jagged edges and raw, easily opened wounds. Their relationship is equally dark and almost fragile, and based on subtle power exchange and at times an almost (if not outright) religious devotion.
One of the best parts of this particular series is how much meta and analysis is recorded alongside it - most of the series has a lot of commentary and conversation to be had in the comments. For that reason, if meta is a thing that interests you, I highly recommend reading the LiveJournal version of the story and check out the additional links in the master post.
And as always, if you like it, please take a moment to let the authors know. You'll absolutely make their day.
Excerpt from "Someone Else's Song"
“Such the gentleman,” she says dryly. “He shoots me, then puts me back together.”
He can tell the drugs are starting to take effect; her eyes are starting to glaze, but she remains in remarkable control. The dose he’s given her should have knocked out a man three times her size but she just leans back, pliant and watchful, those green eyes studying him.
“Is this penance?” she asks, watching him sew her up with the casual air of a third-party observer.
Clint shrugs. “Just seemed like a waste, that’s all.”
Her head lolls to the side and her smile is almost flirtatious. “Oh but that’s not all, is it? Not by a long shot. This wasn’t impulse. Something tells me you don’t do impulse.”
He suppresses a grin. “You mind telling that to the guys I work for? They seem to be under a different impression.”
She ignores him, continues the dissection. “No, definitely not impulse. You’ve been watching me too long for that.”
He looks up.
“What? You think I wouldn’t notice Kiev? Minsk? I started to think you'd never introduce yourself.”
He looks away again, busies himself with making a tourniquet for her arm.
“So what is it then?” she continues. “A trophy? A fuck? No,” she shakes her head, “I don’t think so. You wouldn’t go to this much trouble. Is it redemption?” She sees something in his face that gives her pause and sits up a bit.
“That’s it isn’t it?”
He doesn’t answer, doesn’t change his breathing or even make eye contact but somehow she knows she’s hit a nerve.
“Ahhhh, so it is.” Her smile is cold and offers no sympathy. “The knight and his quest.”
“I’m no knight,” he says simply.
“A cowboy perhaps?” she laughs, girlish and delighted. “No matter. Two sides, same coin. Both foolish, both lost.”
He tells himself it’s just the morphine talking and makes a point of ignoring her as he finishes dressing the last of her wounds.
“You think you know me?” she says after a lengthy silence, and the playfulness has faded into something else. “You think you’ve figured it out?” Her eyes are hard even as her voice drops to a purr. “Did you want to be the handsome man who saves me from the monsters?”
He stills and looks at her. She reaches out with her good arm and pulls him close, moving much too fast for a girl who should be barely conscious.
“Just don’t forget,” she says, fingers searching for a hold on his vest, pulling him towards her with unnatural strength, “cowboy, knight-errant, whatever you are-” She leans forward until their lips are nearly touching, until his vision is filled with only her, until the smell of blood floods his senses like a perfume.
“Don’t ever forget,” she whispers in that too-perfect English, caressing his cheek with blood-stained fingers, “…that I am one of them.”
A hairsbreadth away from a kiss, she passes out in his arms, blood red hair falling across her face, red still trickling from her mouth and a faint red smile on her lips.
He lays her down, watches her for a long time. Reminds himself that she’s a spy and a liar and a kid who grew up too hard and too fast. Reminds himself that words are weapons like anything else, just another piece of armor. He pays them no mind.
But as he watches the sun come up, he realizes she’s right about one thing-he is lost.
"Small Acts" AO3 or the Master Post on LJ
Author's Summary: "Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" The story of Clint and Natasha from first meeting to post movie, as told by David Cronenberg. A love story, deconstructed.