Fic: Right On The Edge (Part 1)
I'm trying to finish up the Table Of Doom for writerverse so I'm going to see how much of this story I can get out with the remaining prompts. I finally read Hawkeye My Life As A Weapon and I have so many Kate Feels!
I've also decided that I don't much like the few icons I've seen of Kate from the comics. Well, I like them but I'm not in love with them. You know? I've decided that I'm not much of an "comic as icon" person and need to have a real person in the picture. This means that I need to find a PB that I like as the character. Hmmm...
Also, I should state right here that I have no idea where everything else in Clint's backstory fits in with this particular comic universe. My comic knowledge is spotty, at best, but I'm taking the bits I like best (like Bobbi Morse) and running with it.
Title: Right On The Edge (Part 1)
Prompt: Place: The River's Edge and Tense: Present
Word Count: 1052
Rating: PG
Fandom: Hawkeye Comic!verse
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/Underage): none
Summary: Bobbi asks Kate out for tea but this does nothing to sooth over any frayed nerves.
It all starts because Bobbi invites her out for tea at a place called The River’s Edge. Not coffee. Tea. It’s as if she’s letting Kate know that this won’t be anything like what she’s known with Clint. This is going to be the antithesis of the world she’s been sharing as Hawkeye.
It’s too much like going back in time but Kate doesn’t let on that she’s bothered. There are white tablecloths on every flat surface and pretension oozing from every person. If she didn’t think it would offend Bobbie, she would walk back out the door.
A hand is waving in the air and Kate can hear her name. Taking a deep breath, she puts a smile on her face and swears to herself that she’s going to have a real drink when this is over. It doesn’t matter that she’s still not legal and Clint will make a stink about it. Adult isn’t always about the age on a birth certificate. Right now, she’s never been more adult.
“Bobbi.” She brightens her smile, falling into a routine she knows all too well. “How nice of you to invite me for an afternoon out.”
Bobbi presents her cheek and the two exchange air kisses, as civilized as anyone else out for a friendly drink. Only, none of the rest of the people here have a kill sheet as long as Bobbi’s. Does anything feel truly friendly when the person could just as easily reach across and kill her? Kate reminds herself that Bobbi could be thinking the same thing about her, even if her kill sheet isn’t anything of merit just yet.
They chat of mundane things: the weather, the insane length of time between the old season of 24 and the new, the definite lack of good movie so far this summer, the new chef in the Mess Hall at SHIELD headquarters. Kate’s energetic about the first, half-hearted about the second and third but doing her duty as the youngest member present to act like she cared about these things that were expected of her, and completely ignorant of the last. It doesn’t bode well that this is all they have in common.
That’s not exactly true. They have Clint in common but that seems to be a subject they’re skirting around, at least for the moment. Kate sips at the liquid in the cup in front of her. It could use some sugar but she’s not going to ask for anything other than what she was offered. Until she has a handle on where this conversation was going, she isn’t going to give away anything (even something as small as her desire for sweet tea) for free.
As if she can read minds, Bobbi says, “I suppose you’re wondering why I invited you today.”
Kate inclines her head as if asked about her thoughts on the new spring collection from Milan. “It crossed my mind.”
“Clint’s never been much for having a partner. Don’t get me wrong. He loves working in a team but a partner is something else entirely. It takes work.”
If this had come from anyone else, Kate would have smiled and ignored seventy-five percent of the conversation but this is Bobbi and now she’s just angry. So far, she’d been more than patient, hoping this was going somewhere other than where it was, inevitably, headed. It was no one’s business but Clint’s who he decided to work with. He had his reasons.
“It takes work on both sides, I’d say.”
The sling is launched well but it didn’t seem to land. If anything, Bobbi’s smile got bigger. Instead of being angry, she’s strangely happy. That doesn’t sit well with Kate, at all. A childish petulance rises up but she fights it enough that she pushes back from the table instead of saying something she shouldn’t. Her vision is grayed around the edges and she’s breathing fast but her anger is still controllable. Just barely controlled, but controlled.
You are better than this, her mother informs her from deep in her memories. You are a Bishop and would never think about causing a scene in public.
True, she’s a Bishop but she’s not the Bishop her parents would have probably wanted for their daughter to be. She’s more of an Avenger than a Bishop, these days, and not much of either. Still, the initial thought does clear her vision and straightens out her breathing. She’s able to let her lips stretch into a smile instead of a grimace as she finishes the tepid tea with one long swallow.
“Thank you. This was nice.” It was a near thing that kept her from wiping her lips with the back of her hand, an insult to the room at large. Instead, she picks up her napkin and dabs at the invisible mess. “I’d say that we should do it again but I don’t think either of us is that eager to see what levels of pain we can cause the others.”
“I’m not your enemy, Kate.”
She has to bite her tongue to keep from responding right away. Instead, she considers the implications of her words before she says, “But you aren’t my champion, either. Look, I really appreciate whatever this is. Maybe you just want to assess my capabilities with a teacup or you’re trying to figure out the exact shade of my hair up close. I don’t know. All I know is that I... I...”
It’s impossible to continue the diatribe when Bobbi is smiling at her like this is the most enjoyable thing she’s ever seen. While it should be insulting, it’s not a condescending smile. It’s the kind that Kate would respond to in any other situation, with any other person. It’s the smile of a person looking at a friend.
“We aren’t friends,” Kate finally snaps. Before she can get a firm grasp on the words, they roll out on their own. “The only reason you’ve even noticed me is because Clint did. I’m not taking advantage of his friendship so I certainly won’t let it take advantage of me. Next time you want to have a little let’s rile the new girl drink, let’s at least do it somewhere that doesn’t have tablecloths.”
This entry was cross posted at dreamwidth - where the cool kids hang out.
I've also decided that I don't much like the few icons I've seen of Kate from the comics. Well, I like them but I'm not in love with them. You know? I've decided that I'm not much of an "comic as icon" person and need to have a real person in the picture. This means that I need to find a PB that I like as the character. Hmmm...
Also, I should state right here that I have no idea where everything else in Clint's backstory fits in with this particular comic universe. My comic knowledge is spotty, at best, but I'm taking the bits I like best (like Bobbi Morse) and running with it.
Title: Right On The Edge (Part 1)
Prompt: Place: The River's Edge and Tense: Present
Word Count: 1052
Rating: PG
Fandom: Hawkeye Comic!verse
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/Underage): none
Summary: Bobbi asks Kate out for tea but this does nothing to sooth over any frayed nerves.
It all starts because Bobbi invites her out for tea at a place called The River’s Edge. Not coffee. Tea. It’s as if she’s letting Kate know that this won’t be anything like what she’s known with Clint. This is going to be the antithesis of the world she’s been sharing as Hawkeye.
It’s too much like going back in time but Kate doesn’t let on that she’s bothered. There are white tablecloths on every flat surface and pretension oozing from every person. If she didn’t think it would offend Bobbie, she would walk back out the door.
A hand is waving in the air and Kate can hear her name. Taking a deep breath, she puts a smile on her face and swears to herself that she’s going to have a real drink when this is over. It doesn’t matter that she’s still not legal and Clint will make a stink about it. Adult isn’t always about the age on a birth certificate. Right now, she’s never been more adult.
“Bobbi.” She brightens her smile, falling into a routine she knows all too well. “How nice of you to invite me for an afternoon out.”
Bobbi presents her cheek and the two exchange air kisses, as civilized as anyone else out for a friendly drink. Only, none of the rest of the people here have a kill sheet as long as Bobbi’s. Does anything feel truly friendly when the person could just as easily reach across and kill her? Kate reminds herself that Bobbi could be thinking the same thing about her, even if her kill sheet isn’t anything of merit just yet.
They chat of mundane things: the weather, the insane length of time between the old season of 24 and the new, the definite lack of good movie so far this summer, the new chef in the Mess Hall at SHIELD headquarters. Kate’s energetic about the first, half-hearted about the second and third but doing her duty as the youngest member present to act like she cared about these things that were expected of her, and completely ignorant of the last. It doesn’t bode well that this is all they have in common.
That’s not exactly true. They have Clint in common but that seems to be a subject they’re skirting around, at least for the moment. Kate sips at the liquid in the cup in front of her. It could use some sugar but she’s not going to ask for anything other than what she was offered. Until she has a handle on where this conversation was going, she isn’t going to give away anything (even something as small as her desire for sweet tea) for free.
As if she can read minds, Bobbi says, “I suppose you’re wondering why I invited you today.”
Kate inclines her head as if asked about her thoughts on the new spring collection from Milan. “It crossed my mind.”
“Clint’s never been much for having a partner. Don’t get me wrong. He loves working in a team but a partner is something else entirely. It takes work.”
If this had come from anyone else, Kate would have smiled and ignored seventy-five percent of the conversation but this is Bobbi and now she’s just angry. So far, she’d been more than patient, hoping this was going somewhere other than where it was, inevitably, headed. It was no one’s business but Clint’s who he decided to work with. He had his reasons.
“It takes work on both sides, I’d say.”
The sling is launched well but it didn’t seem to land. If anything, Bobbi’s smile got bigger. Instead of being angry, she’s strangely happy. That doesn’t sit well with Kate, at all. A childish petulance rises up but she fights it enough that she pushes back from the table instead of saying something she shouldn’t. Her vision is grayed around the edges and she’s breathing fast but her anger is still controllable. Just barely controlled, but controlled.
You are better than this, her mother informs her from deep in her memories. You are a Bishop and would never think about causing a scene in public.
True, she’s a Bishop but she’s not the Bishop her parents would have probably wanted for their daughter to be. She’s more of an Avenger than a Bishop, these days, and not much of either. Still, the initial thought does clear her vision and straightens out her breathing. She’s able to let her lips stretch into a smile instead of a grimace as she finishes the tepid tea with one long swallow.
“Thank you. This was nice.” It was a near thing that kept her from wiping her lips with the back of her hand, an insult to the room at large. Instead, she picks up her napkin and dabs at the invisible mess. “I’d say that we should do it again but I don’t think either of us is that eager to see what levels of pain we can cause the others.”
“I’m not your enemy, Kate.”
She has to bite her tongue to keep from responding right away. Instead, she considers the implications of her words before she says, “But you aren’t my champion, either. Look, I really appreciate whatever this is. Maybe you just want to assess my capabilities with a teacup or you’re trying to figure out the exact shade of my hair up close. I don’t know. All I know is that I... I...”
It’s impossible to continue the diatribe when Bobbi is smiling at her like this is the most enjoyable thing she’s ever seen. While it should be insulting, it’s not a condescending smile. It’s the kind that Kate would respond to in any other situation, with any other person. It’s the smile of a person looking at a friend.
“We aren’t friends,” Kate finally snaps. Before she can get a firm grasp on the words, they roll out on their own. “The only reason you’ve even noticed me is because Clint did. I’m not taking advantage of his friendship so I certainly won’t let it take advantage of me. Next time you want to have a little let’s rile the new girl drink, let’s at least do it somewhere that doesn’t have tablecloths.”
This entry was cross posted at dreamwidth - where the cool kids hang out.