A comment fic meme fill at
igrockspock's journal
here.
Title: Big Damn(Terrified)Heroes
Author:
fringedwellerRating: G
Beta: None
Disclaimer: I have no idea who these characters belong to now, but they're not mine!
Length: <500 words
Author's Note: Just a silly little crack fic. No ships, except possibly Black Widow/awesomeness.
Summary: Prompt was Clint, Natasha, big damn heroes. I have possibly reinterpreted this in a way that the prompter did not intend.
“Slay the unholy beast!” yelled Thor, who scrambled backwards so quickly he took out three of the ultra-modern dining room chairs around their communal dining table in his haste.
The familiar hum of Mjolnir flying through the air of Avengers tower was all the warning the rest of the team had; Steve pushed Tony out of the way, but took a glancing blow to his back that sent him cannoning into Bruce and pushed them both into the nearest wall.
“What the hell…” Tony began, but his eyes widened comically when he saw what had spooked Thor. “Kill it, kill it, kill it!”
The sight of arguably the richest man in North America crab-walking across a tiled floor to hide behind a kitchen island was not one that Clint would forget any time soon. Thanks to the handy auto-video capture feature on his prototype Stark Tech phone though, he’d never have to.
“This is seriously damaging my calm,” Bruce noted, from somewhere underneath Steve.
They began to awkwardly untangle their limbs, which was when Bruce got his first look at the mighty foe in the corner of the kitchen area.
“It has to die,” he said with a rising tone of panic in his voice. “Steve, kill it…before…before…”
“Oh dear,” Steve groaned, with admirable restraint, as Bruce roared and then hulked out.
Both Steve and Thor jumped on the Hulk to try and contain him. Hulk flailed back and forth and tried to climb onto the kitchen cabinets. Predictably, the cabinets gave way underneath the combined weight of the three superheroes and took the wall down on top of them.
“All this fuss,” sighed Natasha, who had been leafing through a magazine at the dining table before, and during, the chaos. Frowning, she brushed plaster dust out of her hair.
“Do you want to take this, or shall I?” Clint asked her, taking advantage of the total carnage in the room to snaffle Thor’s closely-guarded stash of Pop Tarts.
“They do call me the Black Widow,” she deadpanned. “I think this falls under my remit.”
Stepping delicately over Tony, and skirting the groaning mound of rubble that was the rest of the team, Natasha made her way to the over sized house spider that had innocently climbed onto one of the counters and prompted what was promising to be a major renovation of their kitchen.
“Come on, sweetie,” she cooed. “I’ll find you a safer place to spin.”
She left, holding the spider carefully in her hands. Tony hid behind the island. Thor wrapped one of the Hulk’s arms protectively around himself. Even Steve eyed Natasha warily.
“Big damn heroes,” Clint snorted, and helped himself to another Pop Tart.