A Gift From: franztastisch
Type Of Gift: Fic
Title: zeus is bullshit
A Gift For: spyforaday
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: illness, injury
Summary/Prompt Used: Team fic, especially involving Tony
Author's Note: My lovely prompters prompts were just vague enough that I literally had no idea what to write. So I combined it with a prompt I received for last year's secret Santa; Natasha and Clint are complete without each other - but together, they are more than the sum of their parts. Or: Their lives are the richer for their love and it suddenly all worked out fine. :D Cut poem by glowflowr on tumblr.


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This is the first time Pepper meets Natasha

Pepper had of course met Natalie before, technically, but when Tony came back to the Tower from SHIELD HQ with Agent Natasha Romanov in tow two months after New York Pepper was struck by how very different the two women were.

Natalie Rushman had been a professional businesswoman: clever, efficient and organised. She dressed much like Pepper did, talked about much the same topics Pepper had, and was only really distinguishable from her co-workers thanks to being scarily efficient at organising Pepper’s horribly complicated and hectic life. She had been the best PA Pepper had ever had.

Even at first glance, Natasha Romanov was not really anything like Natalie Rushman.

Tony had gone to SHIELD for some meeting-slash-argument about using his designs for Avengers’ only kit – or Avengers and their associates, or something similar – which Pepper wasn’t entirely sure about because Tony’s ideas about intellectual property could be confusing and contradictory at best.

Pepper had let him go on the condition that he came back in under two hours. She very rarely had days off while in the same city as him. Tony had half moved to New York since the battle and, although they were in the process of moving her offices to New York as well as Stark Industries’ higher-up R&D departments, she wanted to take advantage of their few free days together.

Natasha Romanov had not been part of this plan. But, then again, nothing involving Tony Stark ever went according to plan and Pepper had learnt to roll with the punches.

“Nat-- asha, Pepper; Pepper, Natasha,” said Tony, clearly catching himself before using some nickname that Natasha didn’t approve of. He then turned to Pepper fully. “I tried to tell her that we had a thing but she insisted she come along to talk to you and she’s scary so here she is.” Tony looked between the two of them and then turned to Natasha. “So I’m going to go reinforce my servers against Nick Fury’s computer monkeys, which should take about half an hour, and you,” he pointed to Natasha with an intimidating look that she was completely unfazed by, “better be gone when I’m done because we,” – arm wave in Pepper’s general direction – “have a thing and it does not involve you.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her arms folded, before nodding once and clearly expecting him to leave now. Which to Pepper’s surprise, Tony did after a small apologetic look in her direction. In all honesty, she was impressed.

“I feel I should apologise for lying to you, flirting with your… partner, infiltrating your company, and spying on your people,” Natasha said as soon as Tony had left the room.

No hello, no introduction, no small talk.

“So,” she said, waving her hand in a dismissive manner, though looking no less sincere as far as Pepper could tell, “sorry about that.”

Pepper paused for a moment, thrown.

“I get the impression you don’t do that often,” she said eventually.

“Never, in fact,” replied Natasha. “You are the first. And probably the last.”

Pepper gave her a searching look, but she couldn’t read anything other than Natasha being completely at ease with the entire situation; face carefully blank, posture relaxed. Pepper thought back to Natalie Rushman’s quick smiles and easy manner and decided she may just prefer Natasha Romanov. Somehow she was more genuine – though that could just be thanks to hindsight.

“Apology accepted,” said Pepper eventually. “Please never do it again.”

Natasha nodded.

“Now,” Pepper continued, “Tony was in fact correct when he said we had plans. I’m in New York again in ten days’ time though. Would you like to meet for dinner?”

Pepper couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw a brief flicker of surprise and uncertainty cross Natasha’s face. But she hid it quickly, if that was the case.

“I’d love to.”


This is the first time Pepper meets Clint

Since New York Pepper had gotten used to the increase in people turning up at the Tower. It was nice really. Tony didn’t have all that many friends, and those he did have had proper jobs that meant they couldn’t just turn up at the drop of a hat if Tony was bored. That’s not to say that his new friends turned up at the drop of a hat, and Bruce living in the Tower meant that Tony almost always had company. Even if he would never admit it Pepper knew that Tony got lonely, so she was incredibly grateful to Bruce for being around.

The voice she could hear now was not Bruce though.

Pepper left her laptop and tablet on the table by the door on the communal floor of the Tower and made her way into the kitchen, where she could hear Tony extolling the virtues of… well, something.

“… and it sends out an electromagnetic pulse, so it can disrupt most systems immediately. Handy in a tight spot, provided you can get it close enough to a live current. Which I’m sure you’ll have no trouble doing.”

Tony was waving his hands around, brandishing something long and stick-like. The man he was talking to had his back to her, but he made her pull up short nonetheless.

When Pepper had first met Steve Rogers she was momentarily robbed of all movement and higher brain function; Tony had a lot of attractive friends, but Pepper was sure none of them could hold a candle to Captain America. But while the man in front of her now wasn’t unattractive, that wasn’t the reason he made her stop. No, the reason she pulled up short for this man was because she was fairly sure that the only person allowed to look that shabby in the Tower was Tony himself.

He was wearing jeans so frayed they were missing entire chunks of hem. His shoes – purple Converse All Stars – were dirty, ripped, and held together with electrical tape. His t-shirt had holes around the neck, a couple of his fingers were taped together, his jaw was purple with bruising, and she could see that both his left forearm and his torso were tightly wrapped in bandages.

“And then this one,” – Tony waved something in the man’s face – “this one does the same, just to people.”

“Sends out EMP?”

The man sounded amused.

“Disrupts their systems.” Tony sounded smug. “Hollow tip. Fill it with your poison of the month. Thank Bruce for – Pepper!”

Tony had finally spotted her.

“Pep! Light of my life! Fire of my – !”

“Tony,” Pepper warned.

“Introductions! Pepper, meet Agent Clint Barton, the arrow man.”

So this was Clint Barton. Christ, he looked like hell.

“Clint, Pepper Potts – infinitely better than me in every way. Apart from the engineering way, and genius way and the – ”

“Not shutting up way?” Pepper said.

“I can shut up!” Tony said indignantly. “I’ll have you know – ”

“Stark,” Agent-Clint-Barton-the-arrow-man cut in sounding amused, “Shut up.”

He eyes crinkled when he smiled. It looked like it should hurt.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, extending his hand to shake. “I don’t usually look this terrible.”

“He just enjoys flinging himself through windows,” Tony interrupted before Pepper could respond. “We’re trying to break him of the habit but, alas, we’re not getting through.”

“Remind me again who throws themselves out of planes with no parachute?” Clint said.

“That would be Cap.”

“And you.”

“I have the suit.”

“Cap has the serum.”

“And you have neither. Stop throwing yourself off buildings. I’m too pretty to go grey before I’m fifty.”

“Aww, you do care,” Clint said, grinning. “I’m touched, really.”

“I could kill you. Snipers can be replaced you know. You’re not that special.”

Clint rolled his eyes.

“So what brings you to the Tower?” Pepper asked Clint.

“I made him arrowheads,” Tony butted in.

“I was asking – ”

“ – and they are, in fact, spectacular – ”

“Tony – ”

“ – revolutionary – ”

“Tony – ”

“ – best thing I’ve made since – ”

“Stark,” Clint snapped, smiling still. “Shut up. Your better half is talking.”

Tony shut up, looking a little put out, and there was a beat of silence.

“I am honestly surprised that worked,” Pepper said eventually, smiling at Clint. He grinned back saying, “It’s my other superpower,” and Pepper could see it, why Tony liked him so much. There was the same irreverence, the same humour and the same cracked edges held together with similar tape.

“Well, now that we can get a word in edgeways; would you like some wine, Agent Barton? Because I am in dire need of some wine.”

Clint grinned at her again, slightly flirty. It was an expression that suited him, more so than it suited Tony. Not so similar then.

“Considering the meds I’m on, that would be a terrible idea. However, I excel at terrible ideas. So yes.”


This is the first time Pepper sees Natasha and Clint together

Pepper was running late – her conference call to the Tokyo office overran dramatically – so she was the last one to arrive at the Tower. Tony had organised it; a dinner type thing for everyone to meet everyone, despite the fact that almost everyone had already met everyone. But logic like that didn’t occur to Tony and anyway he’d finally managed to track down Betty Ross and convince her to work for him. It was supposed to be a surprise for Bruce, but Bruce already knew because Pepper had told him. She hadn’t thought springing something like that on him would be the best move, whatever Tony’s opinion on the subject was.

The first person Pepper saw upon entering the Tower was Doctor Foster talking to Steve, who towered over her almost comically. She exchanged pleasantries with them both before making a round of the room in search of Tony, who she found with Rhodey and Clint by the bar Tony had insisted in installing.

“How is Tokyo?” Tony asked, handing her a champagne flute.

“Still there,” she replied, before taking a sip. “Sales are good and the StarkPhone 4.0 is ready to roll. Sato is handling it well, and our US rep will arrive in two days. I don’t think there’ll be any problems.”

“Good, good,” Tony said vaguely, already losing interest.

“Hey Hill!” he suddenly called over Pepper’s shoulder. “You wanted War Machine? Here he is. C’mon Rhodey.”

Tony dragged Rhodey towards Maria Hill, leaving Pepper with Clint, who looked smart in slacks and a pale blue shirt that stretched over his shoulders.

“You look well, Agent Barton,” she said, smiling at him over the rim of her glass.

“You say that every time you see me.”

“Well, you always look better than the first time I saw you.”

Clint laughed. “That’s not hard.”

Pepper bumped into Clint regularly around the Tower, and he’d even been her SHIELD liaison a couple of times. She’d made a point of getting to know him as both Tony and Natasha mentioned him quite a bit, and they got along well. He was funny and easy to talk to, and she liked how well he got on with Tony.

“So how have you been?” Pepper asked.

“Eh,” Clint said, grinning, “Can’t complain.”

They chatted until the first course was served – Tony was going all out for this – about Pepper’s work, Clint’s therapy, Tony’s latest technological blunder. It was only when they sat down that Pepper realised that she was not, in fact, the last person to arrive.
“Where’s Natasha?” she asked the table at large.

“In a briefing with Fury,” Maria Hill supplied from across from her. “She should be along soon.”

The two women shared sympathetic looks. Out of everyone on the table, it was probably only the two of them and Rhodey who had any kind of regular contact with horrific bureaucracy. Tony was practically allergic.

Natasha arrived just as everyone was sitting down to their main meals, taking the only free seat at the table which was on Clint’s other side.

“So?” Pepper heard Clint ask Natasha.

Natasha replied in a language Pepper didn’t recognise and she ended up half eavesdropping on a conversation she couldn’t understand just because the way the two spies talked to each other was fascinating.

Natasha was looking more and more irate, and Pepper was just about to interrupt with something inane so she’d stop frowning – this was supposed to be a fun evening after all – but before she could, Clint said something Pepper didn’t catch and Natasha looked momentarily surprised before breaking into a grin.

“Potatoes?” Pepper asked, because she was committed now.

It was eerie, the way they both turned to look at her at the same time.

Pepper met up with Natasha every Wednesday they were in New York at the same time and she saw Clint intermittently in the Tower, but finally seeing them together was strange.  She’d known that they were close, but there was something almost uncanny in the way they interacted with each other; completely comfortable, and so in sync that Pepper seriously entertained the idea of telepathy.
“Yeah, thanks,” Clint said, taking the dish from her, and Natasha smiled at her over Clint’s shoulder.

“Totally together, right?” Tony whispered from her other side.

Pepper watched Natasha bat Clint’s hand away from her plate, and shrugged.

“I honestly couldn’t say.”

“You mean you know and you’re not telling me?” Tony said indignantly. “Pepper! Rude.”

Pepper turned to face him then.

“No,” she said. “I mean, I honestly couldn’t say.”

As she turned back to her food she caught Maria’s eye. Maria flicked her gaze over to Clint and Natasha, who were now having an animated discussion with Bruce. Pepper raised her eyebrow in an ‘are they?’ kind of way and Maria shrugged.

Well, if their superior and friend couldn’t tell, Pepper had no hope.

But then what did it matter?


This is the first time Pepper sees Natasha and Clint together

“Don’t,” Pepper said sharply, looking over the top of the report from SI’s London branch. “I swear, if you try to get up off that couch I’ll tie you to it.”

When Tony was ill it could go one of two ways: either he’d pretend he was fine and Pepper would have to pick him up from whatever table in the workshop he’d fallen asleep under, or he’d whine and whine and refuse to do anything useful and essentially annoy the ever-loving hell out of her.

Apparently when Clint Barton was ill he’d just pretend he wasn’t, in typically macho fashion. Which was fine for colds and low-grade fevers, but Clint had gotten pretty banged up after his latest mission, and then he’d gotten some horrific bug that involved a cough, a cold, a fever, and throwing up. When Pepper had come across him wandering the Tower’s corridors she had been pretty sure the combination of fever and the painkillers he was on were actually causing him to hallucinate. And since she couldn’t get him to go to either a hospital or SHIELD Medical, she’d had to settle for forcing him onto a couch where she could keep an eye on him, because she was damned if she was going to let him injure himself through sheer bloody-mindedness.

“You’re a CEO,” Clint croaked, “You’ve got better things to be doing than this.”

“Yes,” Pepper said archly. “I have.”

Clint looked chagrined when he realised what Pepper meant.

Luckily, Pepper wasn’t actually very busy and didn’t have to go into the office. So instead she reviewed reports from their London HQ, replied to emails, and made sure that Clint didn’t cough up a lung in between his bouts of fitful sleep.

She felt vaguely silly sticking around to keep Clint company, because they were friends but not really that type of friends. But manly bonding time didn’t typically extend to keeping each other company when ill and Natasha was still in Bogotá. Pepper wasn’t sure that Clint had anyone else.

It was coming up to four in the afternoon. Pepper had almost finished everything she was planning to do and was just getting ready to see if she could force some water or toast into Clint when Natasha came into the room.

“I thought you were supposed to be in Bogotá?”

“Villavicencio,” Natasha said idly, draping her coat across the back of a chair. “It finished up ahead of time. I came to see if you were…”

Natasha trailed off when she saw Clint curled up on the couch, and Pepper watched concern sweep across Natasha’s face before she carefully wiped her expression blank again. Sometimes Pepper felt a little hurt that Natasha didn’t trust her enough to be completely unguarded in her presence, but she tamped down that feeling. That was just how Natasha was, and Pepper had no right to anything more than she was willing to share.

“You didn’t know.” It wasn’t a question.

“No,” Natasha said, her gaze not leaving Clint’s flushed face.

There was silence for a moment.

“He’s a terrible patient,” Pepper said eventually.

Natasha laughed, but it was small and slightly strangled. “He hates being ill. He hates hospitals.”

Pepper felt like Clint spent half his time injured. Hating hospital seemed strange.

“Why?” she asked, but Natasha didn’t answer. Instead she approached the couch, glancing briefly at Pepper before crouching down and placing her hand across Clint’s forehead. Clint flinched minutely, groaning and blinking blearily at Natasha.

“T’sha?”

“Shh,” Natasha said quietly, before switching into Russian, murmuring quietly while running her hand gently through his hair. Clint calmed, but he looked even worse than when Pepper had last checked on him. She was seriously entertaining the idea of simply forcing him to go to hospital, though she could guess at how well that would go.

Natasha stood up again and Clint moaned quietly at the loss of contact, his hand falling over the edge of the couch. Natasha cast another glance at Pepper before moving ever so slightly so that Clint’s fingers could curl into the top of her boot. She looked unsure and slightly embarrassed, and realisation hit Pepper like a bolt from the blue.

Natasha trusted Pepper and she was trusting Pepper with this.

They were together but they were never hiding. Natasha keeping her expression carefully blank wasn’t because of a lack of trust, that’s just how Natasha was. In the same way Tony was obnoxious and Steve was polite and Bruce was self-deprecating, Natasha was cautious and Clint flirted like he was born to it.

No one noticed because they expected something obvious, or at least familiar.

Pepper worked through several possible questions in her head before settling on, “Would you like me to leave?”

Natasha looked slightly startled.

“You don’t have something to say about this?” she asked. Like Pepper should, like she’d been expecting questions like how long and why not say something.  And sure, Pepper had those questions – had a lot of questions if she was honest – but none that really mattered.
She shrugged.

“It’s not my business,” she said. “So no, not unless you want to talk about it.”

Natasha looked suspicious, because she was a spy, because they were spies. Because they were both spies and if they wanted to hide something no one would ever know.

But they had never been hiding, not really.

“I always assumed people would have something to say about it,” Natasha said almost to herself. She sat down on the couch and Clint’s hand fell from her boot to wrap around her calf, his body shifting to mould against hers. Pepper was sure that neither of them were even conscious of it happening.

“People might,” Pepper conceded with a small smile. “But I’m not people.”

Natasha smiled at that.

“Thank you.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow.

“For not being people.” Natasha clarified, her fingers curling around the last word and making Pepper laugh. On the couch Clint flinched at the sound, causing Pepper to grimace – she hadn’t even realised that the two of them were almost whispering until then.

Now that she had ascertained that Pepper was alright with everything, Pepper could see that Natasha wanted to be alone with Clint, she was just too polite to outright ask. So Pepper took the decision out of her hands.

“Well, now that you’re here to make sure Clint doesn’t wander off and accidentally kill himself through stubbornness, I’m off to have a bath. I can give you a hand moving him if you want, but you’re welcome to stay here if that’s easier. There’s a small bathroom through there,” she indicated to a door to the left, “and the kitchen is reasonably well stocked.”

“What is this place anyway?” Natasha asked. “I had to get JARVIS to direct me here after he told me where you were.”

“I’m not exactly sure what it was designed to be, but now it’s my not-office.”

Pepper picked up her papers from the table before turning back to Natasha.

“I have an office on our floor, but it’s very office-y and sometimes I want somewhere less formal. I used to work in the communal rec room sometimes, but that’s when communal meant ‘just me and Tony’ so it’s not really feasible anymore. So JARVIS pointed me towards this place. Sometimes I think Tony is precognitive, which would be terrifying if it turned out to be true.”

 “He’d hold it over our heads forever,” Natasha said smiling.

“See, I knew you’d say that so…”

Natasha laughed. Pepper knew her impression of Tony was good; she’d had years of practice.

“I think we’ll stay here,” Natasha said after a moment. “I wouldn’t want to move him right now. I might force him into Medical later though.”

“Would he go?”

Natasha looked down at Clint for a moment, taking in his flushed face and now-wheezy breath, before returning her gaze to Pepper’s.

“Yeah,” Natasha said eventually, “He would.”

Pepper smiled, reaching for the door.

“I’m glad,” she said. “Let JARVIS know if you need me.”

“Thank you,” Natasha said quietly, already turning back to Clint; her hand smoothing his t-shirt over his shoulders. Pepper gave them one last look and closed the door behind her.


Pepper was in the bath when she heard JARVIS’ tell-tale beep that indicated that he wished to speak to her. Pepper had forced Tony to install that function; she maintained that the bathroom was not the place for an almost-omnipotent AI. For a brief moment she contemplated ignoring him – smooth jazz was playing softly in the background and the bubbles were up to her chin and she was relaxed, dammit – but JARVIS never interrupted unless it was important.

“Go ahead, JARVIS,” she said, and the music cut off, replaced by JARVIS’ cool tones.

“Agent Romanov wishes you to know that she has taken Agent Barton to SHIELD Medical.”

“And how did he take that?” Pepper asked with a smile, eyes closed and head tipped back against the rim of the tub. Important, but not an emergency – it made a nice change.

“Fantastically,” JARVIS said wryly. “She also wishes me to pass on her thanks to you for looking after him.”

Pepper smiled.

“Thank you, JARVIS.”

“You’re welcome, Ms Potts. Enjoy your bath.”

The music cut back in again – Ella Fitzgerald singing stay little valentine stay – and Pepper sank further into the warm water. She hoped Clint got better soon, because he really had looked bad. But until then, he had Natasha to look out for him, and she had him to make her laugh.

There were worse things.