07/08/2020, 17:23
Fandom: All-New Hawkeye
Summary: written for the prompt 'holiday'
Words: 1426
This looks bad…
No, scratch that. This is bad.
If you’re wondering how the hell I managed to get surrounded by HYDRA agents in an old warehouse before 10 am, you’ll have to ask Katie, since, well, I am slightly preoccupied with not dying right now. It was all Katie’s idea in the first place anyway.
New York, 6 August, 3:19 pm
“And why not?” she asked. Clint was in the kitchen, making coffee. “Is it really such a bad idea to take a break every once in a while? I’m also pretty sure you shouldn’t drink coffee in the afternoon, by the way.”
“Who are you, my babysitter?”
“Yep, that would be me.” He could be such a stubborn ass at times. Some days she wondered why she didn’t just leave. Probably because no matter if he was a stubborn ass, he was her stubborn ass. “Also, I didn’t hear an argument.”
Clint sighed. “Do you remember what happened the last time you went on holiday?”
Kate pretended to think very deeply for a while, frowning and putting her hand to her forehead. “Oh, yeah, I do remember. Madame Masque almost killed me. But hmm, who was it again we turned in last week? Oh yeah, I do remember – Madame Masque! So that problem has been taken care of.”
“That’s not the point, Katie,” the man said. “The point is that every time you try and take a break, bad shit will happen anyway, so what’s the point. Last time it was Madame Masque, this time it will be Doom.” He poured himself a cup and drowned his sorrows in one go. Having an apprentice wasn’t good for his caffeine level. “So I’d basically be paying a fortune to do in another country what I can very well do in New York.”
“I wasn’t planning on going to Latveria, Clint. I’m a rich and spoiled girl, remember. I want the sun, I want an island.”
“You know very well that that’s not the point I’m trying to make, I just –”
She grabbed him by the arms and made him spill some of his second cup of coffee on the carpet. “We are going on holiday. End of story.”
“You made me spill my coffee. I’m not convinced.”
“Aww, come on, Clint. Relax. I’ll pay!”
“I’m not poor, you know.”
“I thought Barney took all the money.”
He took a sip. “Okay, maybe I am poor. Slightly. But that doesn’t mean you have to take me on a holiday, because I don’t want to go on holiday.”
“You can bring your bow?”
“As if I’d go anywhere without it.”
“Lucky?”
“Not leaving my dog behind either way.”
“I’ll pay?”
“We already covered that one, Katie, I’m not –”
She widened her eyes and pinned his arms against his body as she pulled him into a tight embrace. “I’m not letting you go until you say yes.”
“Katie, don’t be so…”
“Please, Clint, please. Did I tell you my dad has a house on Gran Canaria? We could go there and have lots of ice cream and swim in the sea and lie in the sun and –”
“OKAY KATIE, WE’RE GOING ON A HOLIDAY. FINE.” Clint stormed out of the room, holding the coffeepot and mumbling angrily to himself. “Children.”
Kate smiled. Victory is sweet.
Gran Canaria, 7 August, 9:08 pm
“These people have a strange idea of partying,” Clint said at the sight of the building. “This place looks like a dump.”
“This is what’s hip, grandpa.” If she was honest, she was having second thoughts herself. The place did look like a dump, but she had been told by a friend that there would be a ‘wild party’ here, and she thought that said ‘wild party’ was exactly what Clint needed to loosen up a bit. Or perhaps that was a lie. Perhaps it was what she needed to loosen up a bit. Going on a holiday with Clint had proven less simple than she thought. He had the most suspicious mind in the whole wide universe and had managed to lose his hearing aid twice within sixteen hours – seriously, how did that man even survive when she wasn’t around –, so their trip had so far been less than relaxing. He saw ‘shady people’ everywhere, and had basically dragged her off the beach a couple of hours earlier because he was convinced one of the other holidaymakers was watching them. Not surprisingly, it had also taken her a lot of effort to convince him to go to the party, but as always she had managed in the end. Perhaps the reason she put up with him was that she knew not matter how stubborn he was, she’d always be worse.
Gran Canaria, 8 August, 10:03 am
“But the party wasn’t that bad, right?”
“The party was a trap, which your nice friend laid out for us, by the way, so I beg to differ.”
“Okay, I know that the outcome wasn’t nice, but the party itself...”
“Was a scam, Katie, what part of that don’t you understand? Because the part where my wrists are bound behind my back is pretty clear to me, since, you know, that is happening right now.”
“Gee, relax. The beer wasn’t that bad, right?”
“I am not going to comment on that.”
Gran Canaria, 8 August, 11:46 pm
Shit, that was my hearing aid. Maybe I should consider becoming part cyborg and let Stark actually science that thing into my ear.
One down, six to go. Focus. Where is Kate?
This sucks.
I can’t hear you, asshole. There you go.
Katie?
Three down.
Shitshitshi –
Will Kate’s dad kill me for getting blood on his suit? This is why you never borrow suits, shit.
What the hell do these guys not understand about I CAN’T BLOODY HEAR YOU.
“Thanks, Katie.”
“You’re welcome, grandpa.”
Gran Canaria, 8 August, 12:31 am
To be honest, Clint was right. This whole being-locked-up thing was getting old pretty quickly, and those assholes were taking her well-deserved holiday from me. Our well-deserved holiday. She looked at her ripped clothes and wondered what her father would say if he’d see her like this. “These were my favourite jeans. Don’t we ever get a break?”
Clint gave Kate a look. “I’m not commenting on that either.”
“I can’t wait for retirement.” She tried to free her hands from the binds for what felt like the millionth time that day (“Why are you even still trying?”), and then fell back into her chair.
“You don’t seriously mean that, do you?” Clint’s eyes rested on hers. “You enjoy this shit. You’re made for this.”
“You’ve got a point there, Hawkboy.” She bit her lip. “Do you enjoy it?”
“It’s what I do.” The door seemed as secure as two and a half hours ago.
“That’s not really an answer.”
“I know.”
“Are you looking forward to retirement?”
Clint fixed his eyes on the ceiling. No loose panels. They needed a miracle. “As far as I know, superheroes don’t retire, Katie. They die.”
Gran Canaria, 9 August, 1:02 am
“Tell me, Katie, how do we always get into so much trouble?”
“Fate? Destiny?” Kate smiled. “A horse.”
“Shut up.”
Avengers Tower, 13 August, 8:47 am
“He followed us to the party and was waiting for us outside. When we didn’t return, he knew where to find Kate’s friends. We visited them the night before. So yeah, that happened.”
Tony grinned. “You can’t catch a break, can you?”
Clint shrugged.
“But seriously, Clint…” Natasha said. “The dog saved you? Sounds like a fairy tale to me.”
“He’s not just a dog,” Kate protested.
Clint smiled. “Pizza dog.”
Natasha looked at him, unimpressed. “So what have you learned from this?”
“Never wear your favourite jeans to a party?”
“So close,” Tony said.
“Pack extra jeans?”
“Better, but not quite.”
“Always listen to Clint?” Clint offered.
“That’s even worse, dear,” Tony answered.
“Don’t listen to Kate?”
“Always take a dog with you?”
“Don’t go to parties.”
Tony held up his hand to silence them. “Wrong, wrong, wrong…”
“Then enlighten us, oh thou wise one,” Clint muttered. He took a sip from his coffee. Not half bad.
Tony Stark smiled a toothpaste smile. “Invite me next time.”
Gran Canaria, 8 August, 9:50 am
This looks worse…
No, screw that. Getting handcuffed by masked assholes is the definition of worse.
“Katie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m never going on holiday with you again. Ever.”
Summary: written for the prompt 'holiday'
Words: 1426
Fate, destiny & a horse
Gran Canaria, 8 August, 9:46 amThis looks bad…
No, scratch that. This is bad.
If you’re wondering how the hell I managed to get surrounded by HYDRA agents in an old warehouse before 10 am, you’ll have to ask Katie, since, well, I am slightly preoccupied with not dying right now. It was all Katie’s idea in the first place anyway.
New York, 6 August, 3:19 pm
“And why not?” she asked. Clint was in the kitchen, making coffee. “Is it really such a bad idea to take a break every once in a while? I’m also pretty sure you shouldn’t drink coffee in the afternoon, by the way.”
“Who are you, my babysitter?”
“Yep, that would be me.” He could be such a stubborn ass at times. Some days she wondered why she didn’t just leave. Probably because no matter if he was a stubborn ass, he was her stubborn ass. “Also, I didn’t hear an argument.”
Clint sighed. “Do you remember what happened the last time you went on holiday?”
Kate pretended to think very deeply for a while, frowning and putting her hand to her forehead. “Oh, yeah, I do remember. Madame Masque almost killed me. But hmm, who was it again we turned in last week? Oh yeah, I do remember – Madame Masque! So that problem has been taken care of.”
“That’s not the point, Katie,” the man said. “The point is that every time you try and take a break, bad shit will happen anyway, so what’s the point. Last time it was Madame Masque, this time it will be Doom.” He poured himself a cup and drowned his sorrows in one go. Having an apprentice wasn’t good for his caffeine level. “So I’d basically be paying a fortune to do in another country what I can very well do in New York.”
“I wasn’t planning on going to Latveria, Clint. I’m a rich and spoiled girl, remember. I want the sun, I want an island.”
“You know very well that that’s not the point I’m trying to make, I just –”
She grabbed him by the arms and made him spill some of his second cup of coffee on the carpet. “We are going on holiday. End of story.”
“You made me spill my coffee. I’m not convinced.”
“Aww, come on, Clint. Relax. I’ll pay!”
“I’m not poor, you know.”
“I thought Barney took all the money.”
He took a sip. “Okay, maybe I am poor. Slightly. But that doesn’t mean you have to take me on a holiday, because I don’t want to go on holiday.”
“You can bring your bow?”
“As if I’d go anywhere without it.”
“Lucky?”
“Not leaving my dog behind either way.”
“I’ll pay?”
“We already covered that one, Katie, I’m not –”
She widened her eyes and pinned his arms against his body as she pulled him into a tight embrace. “I’m not letting you go until you say yes.”
“Katie, don’t be so…”
“Please, Clint, please. Did I tell you my dad has a house on Gran Canaria? We could go there and have lots of ice cream and swim in the sea and lie in the sun and –”
“OKAY KATIE, WE’RE GOING ON A HOLIDAY. FINE.” Clint stormed out of the room, holding the coffeepot and mumbling angrily to himself. “Children.”
Kate smiled. Victory is sweet.
Gran Canaria, 7 August, 9:08 pm
“These people have a strange idea of partying,” Clint said at the sight of the building. “This place looks like a dump.”
“This is what’s hip, grandpa.” If she was honest, she was having second thoughts herself. The place did look like a dump, but she had been told by a friend that there would be a ‘wild party’ here, and she thought that said ‘wild party’ was exactly what Clint needed to loosen up a bit. Or perhaps that was a lie. Perhaps it was what she needed to loosen up a bit. Going on a holiday with Clint had proven less simple than she thought. He had the most suspicious mind in the whole wide universe and had managed to lose his hearing aid twice within sixteen hours – seriously, how did that man even survive when she wasn’t around –, so their trip had so far been less than relaxing. He saw ‘shady people’ everywhere, and had basically dragged her off the beach a couple of hours earlier because he was convinced one of the other holidaymakers was watching them. Not surprisingly, it had also taken her a lot of effort to convince him to go to the party, but as always she had managed in the end. Perhaps the reason she put up with him was that she knew not matter how stubborn he was, she’d always be worse.
Gran Canaria, 8 August, 10:03 am
“But the party wasn’t that bad, right?”
“The party was a trap, which your nice friend laid out for us, by the way, so I beg to differ.”
“Okay, I know that the outcome wasn’t nice, but the party itself...”
“Was a scam, Katie, what part of that don’t you understand? Because the part where my wrists are bound behind my back is pretty clear to me, since, you know, that is happening right now.”
“Gee, relax. The beer wasn’t that bad, right?”
“I am not going to comment on that.”
Gran Canaria, 8 August, 11:46 pm
Shit, that was my hearing aid. Maybe I should consider becoming part cyborg and let Stark actually science that thing into my ear.
One down, six to go. Focus. Where is Kate?
This sucks.
I can’t hear you, asshole. There you go.
Katie?
Three down.
Shitshitshi –
Will Kate’s dad kill me for getting blood on his suit? This is why you never borrow suits, shit.
What the hell do these guys not understand about I CAN’T BLOODY HEAR YOU.
“Thanks, Katie.”
“You’re welcome, grandpa.”
Gran Canaria, 8 August, 12:31 am
To be honest, Clint was right. This whole being-locked-up thing was getting old pretty quickly, and those assholes were taking her well-deserved holiday from me. Our well-deserved holiday. She looked at her ripped clothes and wondered what her father would say if he’d see her like this. “These were my favourite jeans. Don’t we ever get a break?”
Clint gave Kate a look. “I’m not commenting on that either.”
“I can’t wait for retirement.” She tried to free her hands from the binds for what felt like the millionth time that day (“Why are you even still trying?”), and then fell back into her chair.
“You don’t seriously mean that, do you?” Clint’s eyes rested on hers. “You enjoy this shit. You’re made for this.”
“You’ve got a point there, Hawkboy.” She bit her lip. “Do you enjoy it?”
“It’s what I do.” The door seemed as secure as two and a half hours ago.
“That’s not really an answer.”
“I know.”
“Are you looking forward to retirement?”
Clint fixed his eyes on the ceiling. No loose panels. They needed a miracle. “As far as I know, superheroes don’t retire, Katie. They die.”
Gran Canaria, 9 August, 1:02 am
“Tell me, Katie, how do we always get into so much trouble?”
“Fate? Destiny?” Kate smiled. “A horse.”
“Shut up.”
Avengers Tower, 13 August, 8:47 am
“He followed us to the party and was waiting for us outside. When we didn’t return, he knew where to find Kate’s friends. We visited them the night before. So yeah, that happened.”
Tony grinned. “You can’t catch a break, can you?”
Clint shrugged.
“But seriously, Clint…” Natasha said. “The dog saved you? Sounds like a fairy tale to me.”
“He’s not just a dog,” Kate protested.
Clint smiled. “Pizza dog.”
Natasha looked at him, unimpressed. “So what have you learned from this?”
“Never wear your favourite jeans to a party?”
“So close,” Tony said.
“Pack extra jeans?”
“Better, but not quite.”
“Always listen to Clint?” Clint offered.
“That’s even worse, dear,” Tony answered.
“Don’t listen to Kate?”
“Always take a dog with you?”
“Don’t go to parties.”
Tony held up his hand to silence them. “Wrong, wrong, wrong…”
“Then enlighten us, oh thou wise one,” Clint muttered. He took a sip from his coffee. Not half bad.
Tony Stark smiled a toothpaste smile. “Invite me next time.”
Gran Canaria, 8 August, 9:50 am
This looks worse…
No, screw that. Getting handcuffed by masked assholes is the definition of worse.
“Katie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m never going on holiday with you again. Ever.”
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