JARVIS is a total shipper and tries to get Clint and Natasha together.

ooooooooooohhhhhh ........

*grabby hands*

PS: You, woman, are a FOUNTAIN of prompts. Of life. Of all things wonderful.

Literally laughing out loud on my back on my bed with tablet. I'm glad to be participating this year and already sense serious impending ficcing, like might have a tendonitis flare up level of inspiration.

FIC: Good Morning, New York! (http://archiveofourown.org/works/2233416)

Prompts: scribble_myname's “JARVIS is a total shipper and tries to get Clint and Natasha together” plus happilydancing's “Clint and Nat being interviewed by Oprah or someone on TV”, as modified by hufflepuffsneak with “I don't know if I want to write them being interviewed by someone awesome (like Ellen), or someone not awesome, who they stare down and mess with.” >

“Five minutes to cameras rolling. You look fabulous, you two. Just gorgeous.”

The hostess’ words are probably meant to be reassuring, but Clint is clearly not buying.

“Yeah? Then why’d you try and put eyeliner on me? That face make-up was bad enough. I’m gonna have to scrape that shit off with a spatula.”

The woman bats her lashes at him in a way that makes Natasha want to reach for her bracelets.

“But you have such gorgeous eyes, Mr. Barton. Such a gorgeous colour. It’s a shame not to emphasize your best asset.”

The inarticulate noise Clint makes in response falls somewhere between What Did I Just Step In? and Hulk meets Loki. Natasha, for her part, wonders just how the woman managed to miss Clint’s arms. No matter. She puts her hand on her partner’s shoulder.

“Clint. Relax.”

“I am relaxed. You should see me when I’m tense.”

Of course Natasha has -- rather often actually -- but arguing the point would be counter-productive. Clint has spared no one (including the hapless guy tasked with trying to keep his hair from sticking up) his opinion about being strong-armed into playing nice in front of a camera.

“The Mandarin incident and the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. have given both the Avengers Initiative and Stark Industries a bad name. The brand needs to be repositioned in a more positive light,” Pepper’s e-mail had said. “We need you to help us out a little. And no, Clint, PR is not short for prostitution.”

Hill’s message had been just as direct.

“This is a prophylactic effort,” it had said, “to help people overlook the damage you lot will doubtless cause the next time there’s trouble. Consider this a service to humanity. Hard as it might be for be for anyone to see you in that light, Barton.”

Clint, who prefers short, Fury-type explanations (“he needs killing”) had stopped reading halfway through.

“Yeah, and you know where Hill can stick that prophylactic of hers?”

But, free rent is free rent, the (former) boss is still kind of the boss, and so here they are, an hour later, Clint still sputtering.

Read more on AO3 (http://archiveofourown.org/works/2233416)



Edited 2014-08-31 11:20 pm (UTC)

Jarvis’s dry voice came over the intercom in the kitchen as Natasha flicked through her copy of Vogue.

“Ms. Romanoff, Mr. Barton has requested your presence on the balcony to your rooms.”

“Thanks, Jarvis,” Natasha said.

It was odd of Clint to use the A.I. as a messenger, instead of coming himself, but she had learned long ago to never underestimate his laziness.

She padded to the balcony, still dressed in yoga pants and a singlet from her morning workout. Clint was waiting for her, shirtless in purple pajama pants. He was sitting at the cast iron table, half-asleep with a coffee mug in his hands.

“What was so important?” he asked, yawning.

The door clicked as it locked behind her.

“Jarvis said you wanted to see me,” Natasha replied.

She looked up suspiciously at the balcony camera. Either someone had hacked into the A.I., or it was malfunctioning.

“I apologize for the deception, but I believe you need to talk. I will not open the door until you do so,” Jarvis told them.

Natasha grit her teeth. Come to Avengers Tower, Stark had said. You will be safe there, he said. I even have a robot butler, he said. She knew she should have gotten her own apartment.

“You know we can both scale the building,” Clint told the A.I.

He didn’t appear at all irritated, but that might have been because he hadn’t woken up yet.

“I wouldn’t advise it. We have security measures in place,” Jarvis replied pleasantly.

Natasha was getting flashbacks to watching 2001: A Space Odyssey.

“Look, is this about the peanut butter? We fight about stuff like that all the time. It doesn’t mean anything,” Clint said, voice still thick from sleep.

“No, Mr. Barton, this isn’t about the peanut butter. Although Ms. Romanoff was right, you should have offered to dry clean her blouse.”

Clint shrugged and went back to drinking his coffee.

“Don’t try to get on my good side, Jarvis. I have tickets to a matinee of Book of Mormon. Do you know how hard it is to get tickets to Book of Mormon?” Natasha yelled.

Jarvis didn’t respond.

“Who are you going with?” Clint asked.

Natasha looked at him in surprise. Surely he wasn’t going along with the A.I.’s schemes?

She considered it for a moment. Better just to play along. If they got this over with soon, she could still shower and change before she needed to leave for the musical.

“I’m going with Steve. I’m trying to introduce him to twenty-first century culture that isn’t eighties rock bands and cowboy movies.”

Why did Clint care? It wasn’t like he had agreed to go with her the second time she had invited him to the ballet, or the first time she had invited him to go to the opera. It was no wonder she’d stopped asking.

“Eighties rock bands and cowboy movies are more relevant than theatre,” Clint said, obviously stung. “You’re not teaching him twenty-first century culture, you’re teaching him how to be a twenty-first century snob.”

Natasha crossed her arms, and looked into the balcony camera.

“Great. We’ve talked. Can I go now?” she asked the no-doubt watching A.I.

She received no response, and the door stayed locked.

“Look, Tash, I’m sorry. I need another mug of coffee before I’m human,” Clint said.

He inspected his mug, looking for any dregs that might remain.

“It’s fine Clint, I already knew you don’t like theatre. Or the ballet, or the opera.”

He held the mug upside down, and not a drop of coffee fell out. Clint set the mug down and got up from the table to stand close to her. His body blocked the camera from her view.

“Tash,” Clint started. “Going to the ballet with you is intimidating. You know all the names of the dances, and you make comments under your breath about form imperfections that I don’t even understand, let alone see. Sorry if I prefer spending my downtime relaxing in front of a television screen.”

“See? That’s why I didn’t invite you to Book of Mormon,” Natasha said.

“It still would have been nice if you’d asked,” Clint said.

“Fine. Next time I will.”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“We could see a different play, if you don’t critique the actors while we watch,” Clint offered.

“What do you want to see?” Natasha asked.

“There’s a Shakespeare play somewhere in this city, right? That’s old. We should see that.”

Natasha laughed, but stopped when Clint flinched, hurt.

“I’d love to see a play with you. You know Shakespeare was the television of his time? If you listen close enough, there are a lot of dick jokes.”

“Is that your way of saying that you’ll think I’ll like it?” Clint asked, mock offense covering suspicion.

“You don’t have to like Shakespeare. We can like different things,” Natasha said, looking down at her hands.

Maybe she had been a bit of a snob, but she wanted to go out and see the world, not stay at home and watch television. Sometimes she was afraid if she spent too much time with Clint she’d never do anything but work and hang out.

“Does Wednesday work for you?” he asked, hesitantly.

“It’s a date,” she replied.

She was rewarded with a grin. Clint took her hands, and ran his finger over her palm. She swallowed, trying to control the sudden surge of heat that the simple movement sent through her body.

She had almost forgotten about Jarvis when the door to the Tower clicked unlocked behind them.

“Again, I apologize,” Jarvis said. “Ms. Romanoff, I’ve taken the liberty of informed Mr. Rogers that you gifted your ticket to Mr. Wilson. They have already left for the show. You are booked for the off-off Broadway showing of Much Ado About Nothing tonight.”

Natasha moved so she could glare at the camera again.

“I’m not going to forget you meddling, Jarvis,” she said.

“Of course not, Ms. Romanoff,” Jarvis replied.

His voice was as pleasant as ever, but she detected a hint of smugness nonetheless.

Edited 2014-09-01 01:16 am (UTC)

LOL I love this meddling JARVIS and her critiquing the shows and Clint like seriously, not if you're going to critique and her like seriously, there's more to life than work and TV. Just love, love, love all of this. :)

Thanks! I'd actually forgotten I'd written it until alphaflyer posted her thing, so I'm glad she did :) Shipper!Jarvis was too amusing not to write about.

Glad to be of service! ;-) Quite a different take you took -- loved every line of it. :-)

Thanks! I loved yours as well :)

Bwahahahahaha, JARVIS you sneak.

Now that he's got Tony and Pepper, and Clint and Natasha, he needs to turn his efforts towards Steve and Sam :)

So much fun to read, also Shakespeare ;)

Thanks :D And yes, I figured I'd put in the Shakespeare reference.

GLORY HALLELUJAH this is wonderful. :D

Thank you :D

I am so totally in love with 'shipper Jarvis now, I can't even say. You and alphaflyer have clearly started a new trope. Yay, you!! :D (And thank you!)

Thanks. I suspect the trope will be thoroughly Jossed in Avengers 2, but I hope it happens anyway! :D

You know, I've thought a lot about that, and no matter what, I can't picture anyone in this bar throwing in the towel even when/if our 'ship does get Jossed. Because it is a beautiful towel. Embroidered with a red hourglass and a purple arrowhead.

Okay, I may or may not have had to take some pain medication that may or may not be kicking in right about now.

Still, love this and you are, of course, awesome! :-)

I mean Jarvis as a shipper. I suspect Clintasha shippers will be getting some good and some bad in Avengers 2. The ratio is what will be interesting (and I refuse to worry or meta about Avengers 2 until it comes out. Fandom can be unhealthily obsessive IMHO).

Jarvis can be so pleasantly, deviously, sneaky! I mean, he's totally right, but still sneaky. :)

I have this thought that eventually Clint and Natasha hit upon something hobby-wise that they both totally fall for and it drives the others nuts.

Thanks for commenting :) And yes, I can totally see the shared hobby thing happening.