inkvoices (
inkvoices) wrote in
be_compromised2016-12-21 09:00 am
Entry tags:
Secret Santa: hope for you yet

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A Gift From:
Type Of Gift: Fic
Title: hope for you yet
A Gift For:
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary/Prompt Used: Prompt: Hawkguy and Kate throw a party. (It's an excuse to clean up Clint's apartment, plus Lucky likes leftovers.) But then Natasha turns up…
Author's Note: Heavily inspired by I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning by CloudAtlas.
All the love in the world to celeste9 for betaing on such short notice during a very busy week. SMOOCHES.
"So is your girlfriend coming to this thing?" Clint asked Kate as they each took hold of a couch end and tugged it back against the wall to make more floor space for the party.
"I don't know. Is yours?" Kate asked, grunting as she shoved the couch into place.
Clint gave one last push to his end and then plopped down onto the sagging cushions.
"She's not my girlfriend."
Kate swung herself up to sit on the arm and pinned him with a look.
"Oh, that's right. She's just the girl you constantly moon over but refuse to do anything about."
He sighed. They'd been over this before.
"Why would she want to go out with me when she's friends with people like Barnes and Rogers and she could be going out with one of them?"
"Why wouldn't she want to go out with you?" Kate countered. "Besides, haven't you noticed Barnes and Rogers keep making moon eyes at each other?"
Clint blinked at her in surprise.
"Really?"
"Yes," Kate said, poking him with her foot. "You really are dumb sometimes."
"Well, I'd have to be, wouldn't I, to let you talk me into this party? I don't even know half the people you invited."
"Shut up. You'll have a good time and you'll like it."
The only answer she got was a snort.
~
"She's feeding your dog," Kate said, sidling up to him several hours later and taking a sip from her cup. "But of course you know that already, since you're standing over here in the corner doing nothing but covertly watching her."
"I'm not doing nothing," he protested, holding up a bottle of vodka. "I'm bartending. At the bar you and America insisted we build, I might add."
She took another sip of her drink.
"Uh-huh."
"Katie…" He stopped at her exasperated look, then asked, "Do you think it's ok that she's feeding him pepperoni?"
"Aha! So you are watching her!"
In her tipsy excitement, Kate almost tossed the remains of her drink at him as she gestured with her cup. He pushed the arm holding it away from him to avoid getting christened with cheap white wine.
"I never said I wasn't watching. I said I wasn't doing nothing but watching her."
"Touché."
"So… the pepperoni?"
That got a genuine laugh out of her.
"Clint, Lucky eats pizza on a regular basis, and some of it's of a very questionable age and has super weird toppings on it. I think he'll be fine."
"Yeah, probably," he muttered. He shot another quick glance over at Natasha, who was now kneeling on the floor and giving a very excited Lucky lots of love. "It's good that she likes dogs."
Kate laughed again.
"Or maybe she just likes this particular dog, because he's yours."
His eyes flashed to hers.
"What are you talking about?"
"Natasha. She's making friends with your dog in the hopes that it leads to being friends - or more - with you."
"No, she isn't."
Kate glared at him stubbornly, so he did the only thing he could think of to distract her. He gestured with the bottle of booze in his hand.
"Hey, isn't that America over there flirting with Kamala? Why don't you go stake your claim, tell her to scram?"
"Em's not flirting. She's just naturally exuberant."
Clint shrugged.
"I know what you're doing, Clinton Francis Barton, but it's not going to work. You can't distract me forever. I'm going to force you to talk to her at some point."
He didn't answer, but he did notice she wobbled away from him to spend the rest of the night fairly close to America's side.
~
"This place is a pigsty," Kate groaned, hunched over the table with a mug of coffee cradled in her hands. "And I am so hungover."
"Here," Clint said, shoving a glass of noxious green juice at her. "This will help with the hangover. As for the pigsty, since you talked me into having this party, you're helping me clean it up."
Kate pushed the green stuff away and groaned.
Clint shook his head at her and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed in front of his chest.
"Told you you shouldn't have had that last tequila shot."
Kate mumbled something he couldn't quite make out.
"Why didn't you go home with America last night?" he asked.
She lifted her head just the slightest bit and gave him a sheepish look.
"She was, um, a little annoyed with me by the end of the night. Thought maybe I should give her some space until I was sober enough to apologize properly."
Clint nodded, his annoyance fading in the face of her misery. He decided to take pity on her.
"Listen, why don't you finish your coffee and then come help me finish cleaning up?"
She nodded weakly and he headed out to the living room only to stop in dismay when he noticed what was tucked into the corner of the couch.
"Damn. She left her jacket."
Kate looked up from where she was face-planted on the table.
"Who? What jacket?"
"Natasha. She left her jacket here last night."
"She did?" Kate asked, showing the first sign of life she'd exhibited all morning.
Clint eyed her suspiciously.
"What?"
"Clint, no one accidentally leaves an expensive leather jacket at a party.”
Clint frowned at her in annoyance.
"Well, clearly she did, Kate, since I'm looking right at it."
Kate rolled her eyes.
"She left it on purpose, you dumbass. It gives her an excuse to come back and talk to you today."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
~
He'd just managed to expel Kate from his semi-clean apartment and was all set to kick back on the couch to watch some television of questionable quality, when there was a knock at the door.
"Kate, I swear to God, if you came back to --" His eyes widened when he opened the door to see bright green eyes sparkling up at him. "Uh, hi."
"Hi," Natasha said, smiling as she stepped into his living room. "I left my jacket last night."
"Yeah, I know. We found it this morning," he said, pointing to where it was neatly draped over the arm of the couch.
"We?"
"Kate and I."
Natasha nodded and looked around the apartment curiously.
"Does she live here?"
"Kate?"
She nodded.
Clint laughed.
"She'd tell you yes, but the truth is she has her own place a little closer to midtown. My place isn't quite her style. Plus, we'd probably kill each other."
"Must make for a rough relationship if you're always ready to kill each other."
Clint nearly choked.
"You think she's my girlfriend?"
She cocked a brow at him.
"Is she?"
Clint shuddered.
"No. Most definitely no. More like the annoying little sister I can't get rid of. Besides, America would kick my ass if I made a move on Katie."
"Good."
It was his turn to cock on eyebrow.
"Good?"
"If she was your girlfriend, the rest of this conversation would have become very awkward, very quickly," she said.
That's when he finally noticed what she was wearing, a rather innocuous grey hoodie, like the kind you'd pick up at any mass retailer. But this one had a grease stain on the front and a scorch mark on the wrist, from that time he and Kate had been…
She was wearing his sweatshirt.
Kate was right. She'd deliberately left her jacket here so she could come back to get it. And in the meantime, she'd stolen his sweatshirt to wear instead.
If he'd been in a cartoon, he was sure he'd be making heart eyes at her right about now.
"That's my sweatshirt," he said dumbly.
She glanced down at her attire, as if she hadn't noticed, and shrugged.
A small smile started to make its way across his face.
"Am I going to get it back?"
"That depends on you," she said.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes. You're going to have to earn it back."
"How?"
"Meet me for dinner tonight at Rogues."
"Fancy place," he observed.
She shrugged again.
"I like nice things."
"That's it?"
"Well," she answered coyly. "I like you, too."
He couldn't keep the foolish smile from his face.
"Me too."
"I was hoping that was the case," she said.
Leaning in, she brushed her lips against his cheek in a light kiss and then ghosted them across his mouth. When she pulled back, she was smiling broadly.
"Rogues. Seven. Have Kate help you pick out something nice to wear."
And then she was gone and he was left grinning like an idiot at the empty apartment hallway.
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