“Absolutely not. This is one of the most powerful objects in the universe and I am not letting you use it to buy your girlfriend a box of chocolates or some lingerie, Barton.”
Dr. Strange stabs his finger at the broken stained-glass window above his head, still cracked from some inter-dimensional misadventure, the details of which Clint has yet to worm out of Wong.
“That is what happens when the Sorcerer Supreme dares to get involved in frivolous nonsense, like helping that Parker kid save his friends’ university admission. And we can’t afford to replace it.”
Clint switches to puppy dog mode.
“Oh, c’mon, Doc. It’s Nat’s first birthday since Vormir, so it’s like a re-birthday and counts twice. Truly special. Plus, I’ll chip in for the window. Help a guy out?”
Strange rolls his eyes.
“I’m not the idiot who forgot to buy his partner a birthday present and is begging for a do-over,” he says. But then he frowns and adds slowly, “Well, no, that’s not strictly correct. I did actually. Forget, I mean. Twice. She’s now an ex and hasn’t spoken to me in eight years, except for once or twice when we had to save the planet.”
Clint gives him his best gotcha look.
“See, I knew you’d understand, Doc. This is a Level Seven emergency. Please?”
FILL: Teatime at Tiffany's (T, no warnings apply)
Dr. Strange stabs his finger at the broken stained-glass window above his head, still cracked from some inter-dimensional misadventure, the details of which Clint has yet to worm out of Wong.
“That is what happens when the Sorcerer Supreme dares to get involved in frivolous nonsense, like helping that Parker kid save his friends’ university admission. And we can’t afford to replace it.”
Clint switches to puppy dog mode.
“Oh, c’mon, Doc. It’s Nat’s first birthday since Vormir, so it’s like a re-birthday and counts twice. Truly special. Plus, I’ll chip in for the window. Help a guy out?”
Strange rolls his eyes.
“I’m not the idiot who forgot to buy his partner a birthday present and is begging for a do-over,” he says. But then he frowns and adds slowly, “Well, no, that’s not strictly correct. I did actually. Forget, I mean. Twice. She’s now an ex and hasn’t spoken to me in eight years, except for once or twice when we had to save the planet.”
Clint gives him his best gotcha look.
“See, I knew you’d understand, Doc. This is a Level Seven emergency. Please?”
Read the rest on AO3