A Gift From: sgteam14283
Title: Two Times Clint Was A Cooking Disaster and One Time He Wasn't
A Gift For: firlalaith
Rating: G
Warnings/Choose Not To Warn: no warnings apply
Summary/Prompt Used: Baking Mishap after Clint gets distracted (or is a distraction)
Author's Note: This was really fun to write! Also did I imagine Barney as my eternal fancast of Daniel Craig while writing this? Yes I did. Also written in sort of chronological order, but no specific movie is mentioned. Enjoy!


Two Times Clint Was A Cooking Disaster and One Time He Wasn't

1.

Pulling into the gravel drive and up to the farmhouse filled Clint’s chest with…something. Putting the car into park and turning off the engine, he tried to think of the last time he’d been there and was failing to. “Nat.” he said softly while gently placing a hand on her shoulder to wake her up. “We’re here.”
Natasha tensed for a second but quickly recalled where she was. Clint had insisted on dragging her along to Iowa for Thanksgiving, saying there was someone he wanted to introduce her to. Not having anywhere else to really be, she agreed and had endured the five hour flight from DC to some regional airport surrounded by corn fields.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes as Clint opened the trunk of their rental and got their bags, she looked at the house. It wasn’t much, like any old farmhouse that was renovated for the modern century; the wooden clapboards a dusky blue with white trimming and a worn wooden fence running around the house to the edge of the drive. Walking to the back of the car to stretch her legs after sitting for so long, she smiled a bit when Clint handed her her bag without even looking up, “Thanks. Who lives here again?”
“My brother, Barney.” Clint replied, slinging his own bag over his shoulder and closing the trunk with a hefty arm. “Bought it after he finished his third tour overseas and didn’t want to reup. Thought it was hilarious when he said he’d ‘bought the farm.’”
Natasha shook her head at the joke while Clint rolled his eyes, “Is it an actual farm or just the house?”
“He says it’s an actual farm, although I’ve yet to see him grow anything.”
“That’s because you never visit during growin’ season.” Barney said as he opened the screen door and walked onto the front porch, coffee mug in one hand while taking off his glasses with the other. “If you bothered to show up during the spring or summer, I'd show you that I do more than just hang out in the barn.”
Natasha watched as Clint gave a shrug and walked up the steps of the porch, giving Barney a good-natured hug and it being returned.
“Ms. Romanov, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Barney said once Clint moved into the house itself. “Come on in and have somethin’ to eat, just finishing up breakfast and there’s plenty still left.”
Trying to merge the idea of Barney from what Clint had told her with what she’d just seen, Natasha made her way into the house and was surprised at how cozy and well decorated it was. Dropping her bag by the door, she followed the voices of Clint and Barney chattering away down the hallway and into the kitchen.
“Help yourself, he always makes too much when I’m coming.” Clint said, handing a plate to Natasha with his right hand while balancing his own (overfilled) plate with his left.
“But you always manage to nearly empty the fridge whenever you visit.” Barney said with a glimmer in his eyes as he refilled his coffee mug. “Don’t they feed you at whatever agency you’re with these days?”
Letting the sibling banter fade into the background, Natasha set the plate on the table and grabbed her own coffee mug-filling it and then looking for the creamer. Not seeing it, she went over to the fridge and opened it, seeing the giant turkey that was taking up most of the space. “That’s a big turkey just for three people.”
“Not just three; Barney always has some neighbors over, plus there’ll be leftovers.” Clint piped up from his seat at the farmhouse style table. “Are we gonna deep-fry it this year, Barn?”
“I am. You’re not allowed to do it, remember?” Barney raised an eyebrow and glared at Clint over the rim of his reading glasses.
“Oh. Yeah.” Clint felt his face heat up at the memory and slightly ducked his head.
“Not allowed?” Natasha knew she had a confused look on her face and glanced between Barney and Clint. “Can I ask?”
“Sure. Last time we deep-fried the turkey Clint said he’d take care of it. Ordered the kit, the peanut oil, got the bird. ‘Cept he got it at the start of the month so it was in the freezer the whole time. Then Hawkeye here takes it out the day before, only then I didn’t know that- I was away on some farm business. So I come home day of and he’s settin’ everything up, people start to come over, and then it’s time to fry the bird. But since it wasn’t completely thawed, once it hit the heated oil it explodes. Lit up the propane tank, set the grass on fire and almost took off the side of the barn.”
“No it didn’t, okay.” Clint interjected a bit forcefully, “It just scorched it a little.”
“Anyways, that’s why Clint’s not allowed to cook the turkey.”

–

2.

Clint Barton was hungry.
Taking up Tony’s offer and moving into Stark Tower once the rebuild was finished, he was glad for the benefits of JARVIS and not having to worry if food was going to turn into a science experiment when he was away.
Idly walking into the kitchen, Clint opened a few cabinets but closed them almost right away when nothing grabbed his attention.
“Clint!”
Looking up at his name being almost shouted, Clint saw Thor striding into the kitchen and gave the man a nod, “Thor, big guy. Are you hungry?”
“That I am.” Thor paused for a moment before continuing. “When I was in New Mexico, Darcy Lewis introduced me to the most wonderful breakfast food. Pancakes. I was wondering if we might find them again in the city.”
Clint let a half smile appear as the Asguardian talked, not tired of the man’s prose just yet. “I think I can make that happen. But you know what would be even better? We can make them ourselves.”
“Can we? Excellent! I could eat a thousand of them and still have room for more.”
Thor clapped a hand onto Clint’s back, nearly sending him sprawling. Clint stumbled a bit to catch his footing so he didn’t crash into the counter, but still smiled, “I don’t doubt it.” He paused for a moment, he stared at Thor before asking, “Have you heard of the Guinness Book of World Records?”

–

Natasha stepped out of the elevator and stopped, wondering why she smelled something like burned pancakes. Then there was a wet slap followed almost immediately by Clint shouting, “No no no! I said easy around the edges!”
Pausing, she debated if she should just turn back into the elevator but curiosity won out so Natasha cautiously made her way towards the kitchen. Rounding the corner she stopped short, taking in the scene before her.
Bowls littered the countertops, most of them dripping what she assumed was pancake batter, and flour dusted almost everything with a fine white haze, while Tony’s smart refrigerator flashed that it was out of eggs, milk, and butter. Over by the stove stood Clint and Thor, both of whom had batter smeared over their clothes and Clint had flour in his hair- making him look older than he really was. Off to the side of them there was a stack of large pancakes either burned, raw, or some combination of the two.
“...Do I even want to know?” Natasha asked slowly, while stepping around the bar chairs that had been shoved to the middle of the room and into the center of the kitchen. “Or am I better off not knowing?”
Clint looked over at Natasha’s voice and saw how much of a disaster area the kitchen had become. “Um…I dunno?” he lamely shrugged, while trying to keep an eye on the pancake that was currently cooking.
“We are trying for the largest pancake in the tri-state area!” Thor replied while gesturing to the stove. “This is our tenth attempt!”
“Oh, well then that explains everything.” Natasha smiled as Thor turned back to face the stove. “How is this one faring?”
“Maybe? I wanted to try for the world's largest but the record is eight feet and we don’t have a big enough stove so…tri-state record it is.” Clint replied as he watched Natasha start to clean up some; combining the extra batter and stacking bowls, then putting them in the already crowded sink before grabbing a damp towel to start cleaning the countertops.
Clint opened his mouth to say that once they’d finished the current attempt he was going to start cleaning up, but before he could say anything the smoke alarm started going off and he turned around to see that the pancake had started to resemble a charcoal briquette. “Shit.” he breathed before lunging for the pan to pull it off the burner.
So much for that attempt.

–

3.

Walking down the hallway of Clint’s Bed-Stuy apartment, Natasha hoped that Clint had dinner ready. “Because there was nothing on the flight from California and I’m starving.” she told herself, stopping in front of Clint’s door and pulling out the key he’d given her.
Stepping in she paused just on the other side of the threshold, not sure what she was looking at in the open-plan apartment. The kitchen counters were a disaster area; containers taking up space everywhere, the cutting board had a knife standing up on it, and food scraps littered all over. But at the same time there was the smell of…something citrus and spicy in the air and Natasha was curious to know what Clint had made.
“Clint?” she called out, setting her stuff by the door and walking further in. “You alive?”
“Yeah, just a second.” came the muffled reply and Natasha softly made her way over to the refrigerator to grab a drink. Opening the door, she saw a container of green sitting on the middle shelf and was about to ask what it was when she heard Clint say, “That was going to be a surprise.”
“Oh?” Natasha grabbed the bottle of water and straightened, closing the door to face Clint. “What’d you make?”
“Aquachile. There was this TikTok recipe I saw and-”
“TikTok recipe?” Natasha interrupted, both eyebrows going up in concern. “Clint, remember the last time you made a TikTok recipe? Not everything made on FoodTok should be eaten.”
“No, but this one seems legit.”
“What was the user name?”
Clint was silent for a few seconds trying to remember before shrugging, “Not sure. But she started out with ‘Welcome to the Glam Kitchen’ and wore this giant hat that was almost as big as her.”
“Glam Kitchen? Oh, well then-it’ll be fine. Maybe.” Natasha turned to a cabinet and opened it up to grab the chips. “We’ll have to see if user error plays a part.”
Clint made a face behind Natasha’s back, he’d gotten better at cooking over the years. “It’s been sitting for awhile, so the shrimp is cooked. The acid in the lemon juice cooks them.”
“Hmm, if you say so.” Natasha passed him the bag of chips before going into another cabinet to get the bowls and a nearby drawer for the silverware. Sitting down at the table, Dog Cops muted in the background, they helped themselves to the aquachile.
After watching Clint take a bite, Natasha put some on a chip and was surprised at the amount of flavor and the right amount of heat. “So is this going to be the one thing you can make?”
Clint looked at the amused expression on Natasha’s face and gave her a smile of his own, “I guess so. Tony’s gonna have to get used to having this at all the Tower dinners.”
“Well, if you keep making it like this I won’t have a problem with it.”