(no subject)
dramatic flair
rating: pg-13 for language
characters: Clint Barton, Melinda May
warnings: none
summary: It's no surprise that the mission didn't go to plan when the agents involved were a showboating archer with something to prove and a silent one-woman army. That doesn't mean they can't find common ground to stand on, though.
author's note: For alphaflyer, who prompted, "Clint & Melinda May!" Thanks to findthesea for the AoS-related assistance. :)
Day 1 of this year's 12 Days of Winter hard drive clean-out.
“Aw, c’mon, it wasn’t that bad.” Clint rubbed the back of his neck and ignored the fact that the motion was brushing flakes of dried blood onto his collar. Right now it was more important to use the gesture to avoid looking in Melinda’s direction.
Silence.
“Okay, maybe it was kind of a shitshow, but you’ve seen worse.”
“I’ve seen you.” There was ice on the sharp edge of her voice.
He flinched. “Yeah, okay, I deserved that one. Look, May, I fucked up, I got that. I just - you know, never mind.”
“Barton.” The single word stopped him in his tracks, a command that bypassed his conscious brain and went straight to his nervous system. Clint paused. When nothing else was forthcoming, he turned slowly to meet her gaze.
Against all expectations, there was nothing akin to reproach in her grime-streaked expression.
“Next time you go in to save the civilians, don’t go in alone. That’s where you get into trouble. Your messes are easier to clean up if someone can do some damage control beside you, not behind you.”
Clint read between the lines, read between the words, and was silent for a long moment. Then he grinned crookedly, rocking back on his heels as his empty quiver swung on shoulders falling to their familiar slumped positions.
“Aw, and miss the chance to say, “Here comes the Calvary?” I’m a carnie, May, showman to the bone, you can’t expect me to pass up priceless lines like that.”
“I expect you to follow orders, too, and look where that gets me.” She stared expectantly at him, her lips thinned, for all the world unamused.
“You and the bogies, but you know what they say about the Spanish Inquisition.”
“Go get your head checked,” May told him flatly. He gave her a salute with two ash-covered fingers and headed for the hangar exit, whistling softly under his breath.
If she recognized the tune to Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, she didn’t say.
rating: pg-13 for language
characters: Clint Barton, Melinda May
warnings: none
summary: It's no surprise that the mission didn't go to plan when the agents involved were a showboating archer with something to prove and a silent one-woman army. That doesn't mean they can't find common ground to stand on, though.
author's note: For alphaflyer, who prompted, "Clint & Melinda May!" Thanks to findthesea for the AoS-related assistance. :)
Day 1 of this year's 12 Days of Winter hard drive clean-out.
“Aw, c’mon, it wasn’t that bad.” Clint rubbed the back of his neck and ignored the fact that the motion was brushing flakes of dried blood onto his collar. Right now it was more important to use the gesture to avoid looking in Melinda’s direction.
Silence.
“Okay, maybe it was kind of a shitshow, but you’ve seen worse.”
“I’ve seen you.” There was ice on the sharp edge of her voice.
He flinched. “Yeah, okay, I deserved that one. Look, May, I fucked up, I got that. I just - you know, never mind.”
“Barton.” The single word stopped him in his tracks, a command that bypassed his conscious brain and went straight to his nervous system. Clint paused. When nothing else was forthcoming, he turned slowly to meet her gaze.
Against all expectations, there was nothing akin to reproach in her grime-streaked expression.
“Next time you go in to save the civilians, don’t go in alone. That’s where you get into trouble. Your messes are easier to clean up if someone can do some damage control beside you, not behind you.”
Clint read between the lines, read between the words, and was silent for a long moment. Then he grinned crookedly, rocking back on his heels as his empty quiver swung on shoulders falling to their familiar slumped positions.
“Aw, and miss the chance to say, “Here comes the Calvary?” I’m a carnie, May, showman to the bone, you can’t expect me to pass up priceless lines like that.”
“I expect you to follow orders, too, and look where that gets me.” She stared expectantly at him, her lips thinned, for all the world unamused.
“You and the bogies, but you know what they say about the Spanish Inquisition.”
“Go get your head checked,” May told him flatly. He gave her a salute with two ash-covered fingers and headed for the hangar exit, whistling softly under his breath.
If she recognized the tune to Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, she didn’t say.