you gotta love, you gotta love
talking about good times you've had
rating: pg
characters: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark
pairing: light Clint/Natasha
genre: humor
summary: Someone thought it would be a good idea to interview two master assassins for Avengers PR. Yeah, nice one.
"So is there anything you can tell us about each other?" The director asked, no longer trying to hide his desperation.
"He can clear a room when he hasn't showered in five days."
"She can't sew to save her life."
"Says the man I have to keep stitching up."
"Yeah, I know. My scars are pretty terrifying."
"I'll remember that the next time you get another gaping wound, Barton."
The camera crew that had been gaping at them finally managed to close their mouths.
"How do you two manage to work together?" One of them finally asked, camera sitting almost forgotten on his shoulder.
"Familiarity breeds contempt?" Natasha offered, looking at Clint.
"If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with?" He tossed out, shrugging.
"I forgot you loved terrible music."
"Hey, they're classics. And you like to curse in Russian when you're horny."
She said something that sounded suspiciously like Russian.
"That would be animal cruelty, Natasha. And I don't think camels can bend that way."
"O-kay. Uh, thanks for your time, but, we'll, uh, just leave you two to it." The speed with which the film crew hustled out of the weapons room was impressive.
Tony, who had been lounging in the doorway waiting for the fireworks, looked with raised eyebrows at the two spies.
"That was surprisingly tame. You didn't even point a gun at them, Romanoff."
She shot him an amused grin, wiping down the Glock she had been cleaning during the disastrous interview.
"Fury told us we'd be on mess duty if we scared them."
"And given that the last time you did that you managed to give half the crew food poisoning, he had to have been pretty serious about it. Didn't mean we had to give them anything useful, though." Clint slid the last polished arrow into his quiver.
"Uh huh." Stark eyed them. "So tell me, what exactly was Barton supposed to do with a camel?"
This time, the look Natasha gave him was exactly the one she hadn't given the civilians. He put up his hands in mock surrender and wheeled out of the room, grinning to himself as the doors slid closed behind him.
"Ah, you might want to wait half an hour before going in there," he told the junior agent heading past him. As she hesitated, blinking in confusion, he sauntered down the hallway, whistling cheerfully.
Don't be angry, don't be sad...