- Post your character, name, and series in the subject. Include any preferences as well. - Go to RNG and enter 1-7 for a scene type, and 1-20 for a scene to play out. - Have fun!
Gen!Rescue and Action!Sneaking In. I make my own rules.genuinepleasureJune 12 2012, 11:09:06 UTC
"Fuck." There was a distinct panic in Agent Barton's voice. It wasn't that he was being threatened, but it was mostly the feeling of a fucking rat crawling right up his pant leg. Why? Why did he get stick in this? This wasn't fair. She was down in some ballroom getting in touch with her inner Travolta and he was in the fucking vents? She was the dancing queen and he was apparently the man they sent to do the dirty work. Not fair. He was putting in an official request when he returned to get the seducing parts of the missions. Coulson was going to get an earful. Never a memo though. Clint had tried writing memos, but they were too simple and Coulson could throw them away. Talking to him was a much better approach. It got him better results
( ... )
The rest since LJ cut me the fuck off.genuinepleasureJune 12 2012, 11:09:30 UTC
The door he wanted was to the left and so very very locked. He reached out to rest a hand against the wall. "It's your turn, nerds." He was obviously talking to their tech support. He watched the keyboard and waited quietly for them to work their magic. There was a soft buzzing and then a clicking. He smiled and reached forward to throw the door open. He was supposed to find an empty room, but there were six very violent looking men playing poker. "Well, fuck--" He had no choice, but to engage. He couldn't exactly outrun them in here. He had nowhere to go
( ... )
Rules? What rules?redinmyledgerJune 12 2012, 11:43:43 UTC
The comm chatter really was just part of the deal. They'd worked together long enough that for the most part Natasha could keep a straight face while Barton described every little thing happening on his side. Or he started calling her names, or telling her all about 'the boys'. She knew enough to fill a small novel when it came to the boys and she hadn't even seen them. She just had visuals of rats nibbling on them, or that time when he had tried to convince her they were literally great balls of fire during a desert op. Personally she thought he could have just kept them in his pants and not let them rest on the baking hot sand, but he was Clint and he just did his own thing
( ... )
And then it happened. She could hear Clint cursing, could feel her stomach tighten as she sucked in a breath and held it. She thought she could hear the bullet him but couldn't be sure. All she needed though was the safe word. That safe word got uttered and 'Audrey' was gone. The Widow pushed to the surface and she pulled the hair accessory from her red curls to reveal the blade that had been hidden by her hair. A slit was cut up the side of her dress to free her legs and she kicked out of the stilettos before taking down the Hungarian by his knees and slashing his cheek to get him talking fast. She needed details. She needed to know exactly how many guards between her and Clint
( ... )
Clint had always been fairly capable. He could take care of himself in most situations. Natasha was the same way. They worked well not because they were bad enough to need each other, but they were good enough that they could do these missions alone. They chose to do them together because the odds of things going right were greatly increased in each other's company. They had different styles and approaches, but it worked. Clint could be very laid back. He hated radio silence. He made stupid jokes and he tried to get Coulson to read him stories over the comm from the van. He never agreed, but Clint still tried. Clint preferred a simple mission to one that was filled with bloodshed. He had seen enough of that in the war. He was here doing this stuff because no one else could. Killing was also the only thing Clint had ever been good at. He never missed. What kind of work could he get with that skill? Natasha was the one who preferred the mission going a little sideways. Getting her hands dirty kept her calm and stable. Clint got even
( ... )
Natasha was getting impatient. As systematically as she was taking these guys out she just couldn't get a clear break to Barton's location. She'd tortured one of the guards for exact information, getting out of him that there was a disused bomb shelter underneath the compound. Though it wouldn't be disused much longer if any of the weapons magnates got their way. The dress was soaking at this stage, Natasha looking more and more like an understudy for Carrie.
The fury in her eyes hadn't dampened and even if the men still aimed at her, she could see the fear. Could almost smell it. She was the product that Russia had made her, but she was more conscious of her actions. More aware of the damage that she inflicted. And the fact that she knew she excelled at it, knew that this was her gift no longer scared her as it should. She just hoped that somewhere the Powers That Be understood that this was for the greater good. That she took these men down in the name of the man she owed a debt to. That his one life was worth all the ones she was
( ... )
He would really appreciate the mission not going anymore sideways than it already was. He didn't want them to just get bored and cut his balls off in a last ditch effort. Killing him wasn't that scary. Clint had been under fire multiple times both for Shield and the Green Berets. He was not scared of death. The idea of missing a part and having to carry on just terrified Clint. He could handle a lot of stuff, but if you tried to cut something off of him then things got a little hairy. He liked all of his pieces intact. He would look a little off balance if a part was missing. His face didn't function properly if he was missing a part of his ear or a god forbid a finger
( ... )
Natasha had gotten the giant to the ground but he was still trying to break her in two. She finally ended it by stabbing him in the eye with her knife and for a moment she just lay there trying to catch her breath. For a moment she closed her eyes and felt peace wash over her. The mountain was conquered. She rolled off him with a grunt and ran through a list in her head of all the things she would do when this mission was over. The little rewards she indulged in to remind herself that she was alive.
A bath was the first thing. Bubbles. Classical music. Nothing but an orchestra to keep her company. Though at this stage that would be coming well after she knew Barton was alright. They had to be dragging it out. Had to be trying to find out who he was working for. They couldn't know they were SHIELD. Just that they worked for someone. It was ironic in a way that the heroes were in fact the enemies when seen from the other side
( ... )
If Clint had been focusing on the sounds outside the bunker better than he might have been tipped off to the cavalry coming to his rescue. Natasha was kind of turning into his white knight. She was going to ride in there and save his ass, but until then he was this guy's new friend. It wasn't so much this guy as it was his whip device. There were times when Clint's interrogators amused him. Sometimes they tried so hard to get information out of him. They wanted him to give up names and places. They worked hard, but this guy was anything, but amusing. That whip was starting to turn him into someone that he hated. It took a lot for Clint to hate someone. He was a fairly open minded guy, but if you crossed a line with him then consider yourself royally fucked. This guy was more than royally fucked. If Natasha didn't kill him then Clint was going to
( ... )
Natasha kept her touch only to that which was necessary. She couldn't blame him for flinching. The rage that had been let loose was only starting to ebb in minuscule amounts. She couldn't even imagine the pain he had to be feeling. She was glad she'd put a bullet through the skull of the man who had done it to him, but she was nowhere near finished with the Hungarian. She would make sure the man was systematically destroyed once she got Barton to safety
( ... )
Clint was really hoping she didn't get right to the life ruining while he was in the infirmary. He really wanted to be in on that. He didn't relish the thought of letting Natasha get to have all the fun. Plus he was going to have to go through some pretty heavy recovery. He could at least destroy the guy from his hospital bed. Maybe if he asked nicely Natasha would bring him into HQ in one piece. He would get a chance to pop that guy in that smug face a few times. He had called Clint "boy" one too many times when he was posing as her driver. The thought of getting a chance to destroy that guy was going to keep Clint awake and alert. He would need to be if Natasha was going to get him out of here. Nothing slowed an agent down like dead weight. He didn't particularly want to be that for her
( ... )
He was rarely dead weight for her. Even like this she still knew he'd maintain just enough strength to allow them to escape. She also didn't like retreating but getting Barton help was the first priority. At least now that she'd killed all but the big guy and that she would save for when Clint was better. The Hungarian would never know what hit him. Not with two of them out for revenge. If he didn't have a clue already what kind of trouble he was in, he was a lot denser than she'd given him credit for
( ... )
"It's hard to tell sometimes with you. Just keep the girls warm yeah?" A lazy smile spread out and he tried to fight the overwhelming desire to shut his eyes and keep them shut. He was exhausted and every single part of him ached. The only time he had ever experienced this kind of pain was when his legs were broken. There was a sort of helplessness that came with that injury as well. Barney walked out and that left Clint to take care of himself in a way. Trick Shot hardly counted as a parental figure. The man was a sadistic psychopath who only ever was pleased when Clint was in pain. When Clint was learning how to shoot his way of making sure Clint didn't mess up was through threatening with violence. Sometimes it wasn't even threats. It was actual world shattering pain that he supplied Clint with in order to get him to shoot straight. You learned how to be the best real quick
( ... )
Natasha had at least gotten herself cleaned up. In the time that Clint was out and she knew that there was nothing she could do for him until he was in recovery she showered and changed and did her best not to fret. If anything happened to him there would be hell to pay on both sides.
Now with her hair still damp and her feet tucked up under herself as she dozed in the chair, she cracked her eyes open as soon as she heard Clint's voice. She offered up a sleepy smile before stretching and then leaning forward to rest her hand over his.
"I'd sleep next to you but I don't want to risk any further damage to the boys. Besides, I was keeping the girls warm just like you asked me to." She shifted the chair closer as she looked over his face.
"You look like shit," she told him with another sleepy smile. "And if I'm Sleeping Beauty, shouldn't you be waking me up with a kiss?" Instead she lifted out of her chair and planted a kiss on his forehead. "I think you're Sleeping Beauty in this scenario."
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The fury in her eyes hadn't dampened and even if the men still aimed at her, she could see the fear. Could almost smell it. She was the product that Russia had made her, but she was more conscious of her actions. More aware of the damage that she inflicted. And the fact that she knew she excelled at it, knew that this was her gift no longer scared her as it should. She just hoped that somewhere the Powers That Be understood that this was for the greater good. That she took these men down in the name of the man she owed a debt to. That his one life was worth all the ones she was ( ... )
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A bath was the first thing. Bubbles. Classical music. Nothing but an orchestra to keep her company. Though at this stage that would be coming well after she knew Barton was alright. They had to be dragging it out. Had to be trying to find out who he was working for. They couldn't know they were SHIELD. Just that they worked for someone. It was ironic in a way that the heroes were in fact the enemies when seen from the other side ( ... )
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Now with her hair still damp and her feet tucked up under herself as she dozed in the chair, she cracked her eyes open as soon as she heard Clint's voice. She offered up a sleepy smile before stretching and then leaning forward to rest her hand over his.
"I'd sleep next to you but I don't want to risk any further damage to the boys. Besides, I was keeping the girls warm just like you asked me to." She shifted the chair closer as she looked over his face.
"You look like shit," she told him with another sleepy smile. "And if I'm Sleeping Beauty, shouldn't you be waking me up with a kiss?" Instead she lifted out of her chair and planted a kiss on his forehead. "I think you're Sleeping Beauty in this scenario."
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