ACID RAIN

            tony has  —   oddly enough  —   been getting better at taking breaks,  working harder on this whole  ‘ self care ’  thing.   so when he can feel rather than see the presence of someone coming over,  he’s not too surprised,  figuring it’s just one of the kids telling him to take a breather.   he is surprised though to see who it is when he hears a familiar voice.

           “  well,  usually,  my office hours are every week day,  except for tuesdays,  from one to four pm.   but for you,  mister banner ?   you can have all the time you want.  ”   tony has a smile on his own features as he waves a hand,  turning the floating hologram he was working on off.

          he’s happy to see bruce,  relieved to see him.   after everything…   he feels the heaviness on his shoulders lift even just for a bit.   “  not exactly,  no,  but well.   this place has better hours,  that’s for sure.  ”

bruce laughs. not often enough that he does that. he makes a show of pulling out his phone, checking the date and time.

“darn. three oh six on a tuesday. just my luck.”

moving into the office a bit more - there really isn’t a ton of space for him to go, not unless he wants to hook his chin over tony’s shoulder, climb into his lap, or stand on the desk - bruce looks over the hologram before it’s turned off. “you’re assimilating nicely.” it’s merely a statement of fact. tony looks healthier than bruce has seen him for a while.

“i had a visit from a friend of yours today. very illuminating.” seeing as dick is the only member of his family that bruce still has within arm’s reach, he’s been keeping dick close. inviting him over whenever he’d like to come, even cooking, a skill he doesn’t often display.

currently, they’re waiting on the water to boil so bruce can add the pasta to it, both a drink or two in. it’s casual, comfortable in a way not often associated with bruce wayne and any of his proteges. blame the wine bruce had.

he’s been waiting here for a while now, on the street corner like some sort of prostitute.

this is where he’s supposed to wait, after all. not sure what he’s waiting for, not quite yet, but he’s never been led astray by a vision.

dennis is physically shaking, trembling like a leaf. withdrawal. it’s been too long since he paid a visit to that russian dude. should go back.

his fucking back is killing him.

why couldn’t his vision have had a conveniently placed clock?

dennis closes his eyes, putting his faith in his intuition. there’s nothing, for a few minutes, and then... something. arm flying out, he stops someone who has run up behind him, presumably in a rush to get somewhere, from bolting across the street. and good thing, too, as a car comes screeching around the corner not four seconds after dennis grabs onto the man.

it doesn’t come without sacrifice, though, confusing visions clouding dennis’ mind, too fast for him to grip onto, until he forces his hand to break the connection. “fucking finally. i thought maybe you weren’t coming.”

he sighs in relief, shoulders sagging. maybe that’s all. maybe he just had to step in, had to stop this guy from meeting an unfortunate end. 

“oh, jesus.” clint grabs his chest, startled, “hi, jay.” he hadn’t even seen him come in, hadn’t felt someone’s presence behind him, so he had no idea how long jay had been standing there, observing his workout. hopefully not all that long. clint’s funny about letting people see him practicing.

he catches jay’s mouth moving, but doesn’t focus in on it fast enough to figure out what the other’s saying. “huh? hold on, hold on.” 

turning to his bag, clint pulls out his hearing aids, putting them back on. he finds he prefers to be at the gym without them, enjoys the quiet of his own mind. damn near meditative.

“-and i’m really excited about it, you know engineering is my dream, and i think it would be really good for me to work with someone like quentin beck, since he’s really knowledgeable about the field, but it sort of just... i don’t know, it triggers my spidey sense, and i can’t figure out why, and i figured even if you can’t help me as doctor strange, you can help me as my dad, y’know?”

he’s been info-dumping on stephen for a while now - now that he’s not living at home, it’s not every single day that he sees his foster father, which makes him always feel as though he has to word-vomit everything that’s happened since the last time they’ve seen each other.

which is why he’d taken stephen out to eat as a preemptive thank you.

“a minute of your time, mister stark?” a smile plays on bruce’s lips, knocking on the open door. not hard to find tony stark when his name’s on the building.

he’d been led to tony’s office, if you could call it that, by a redhead who had stood a bit too close for comfort, smiling up at bruce. young enough to be bruce’s kid, probably.

      “ — ‘ I’M SORRY , what did you say ?? I wasn’t.. uh, I wasn’t really paying attention. Which, you know, can be a fatal mistake considering you never know who’s right in front of you  - ’ A low chuckle escapes Eddie’s throat as his gaze moves from the magazine he had been ready on asma to the person who stood in front of him at the diner, wondering if he should start running at the moment. Not that he had done anything wrong but he had been a loser for many years and being a loser came with knowing when was the right time to run away. Right now, he hadn’t decided if that was the case.  “ — REALLY, I can buy a coffee and we can talk about whatever it is you wanted to say. People always say I’m a good listener. That’s me, Eddie Kaspbrak, the great listener -  “ 

“i had just asked if there was anything interesting in your magazine.” adrian’s got asthma as well, though he’s never sat down and read a whole magazine about it.

at least she didn’t look like too much of an idiot. and he didn’t either - his little trick made her grin from ear-to-ear. “ hey, that was cool ! ” she insisted, clapping. “ you don’t seem too bad at all. ” as she spoke, she stood. with a little laugh, she unsheathed her sword from behind her, bring it up over her shoulder and carefully bringing it between them. “ so, this is my sword, ” she began with another laugh. “ i haven’t had it too long, but it’s pretty cool. ” she held it by the handle, blade glinting in the sunlight. “ i can do all the normal stuff with it. swing, block, cut. y’know. all that. ” she was really trying to downplay it; always humble, she was. “ but… and it’s gonna sound crazy, it’s got powers, ” she continued, voice growing hushed. “ do you wanna see ‘em ? ” she would show the kid regardless - part of their deal, after all - but she wanted to make sure. as just adora she was pretty tall anyways, but when she became she-ra, it put on an extra two feet. it freaked people out, sometimes.

he’s not really the modest type, but he can play at it, waving his hand dismissively. “pshaw.”

kicking the board up as she unsheathes her actual, real-life sword, wally watches, fascinated. “powers?” it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he’s ever heard, sure, but it makes him a little nervous.

he really doesn’t want to have to fight someone today.

 let it never be said that quentin beck didn’t deserve the award of husband of the year.

sure, they weren’t still on.. perfect terms - she wanted him to give up his revenge (ha, ha, as if!), he wanted her to stop protecting the people who hadn’t even gotten the guts to give her a proper funeral.. truth to be told, they would probably never reach an understand and..

he was alright with that. he was. after all, all couples had their problems.

all couples were difficult and went through hard times, but.. that didn’t mean he didn’t love her. that didn’t mean he didn’t want things to go back to the way they used to be, because.. damn it, if there was someone he had done all of this for, it had been natasha.

and so, using a key he so gracefully bored from yelena (stole, but.. who the hell cared? the blonde was good for something. stealing and.. other activities, whenever he got bored of waiting around for her sister), he decided to throw her a surprise dinner in her apartment, because.. maybe, this way, they would be able to talk. maybe, just maybe.

he was a fucking romantic, that was for sure. he had grabbed candles, had done what he knew was natasha’s favorite dish and was now waiting for her to come home from the studio, when a knock on the door startled him. uh. she didn’t know he was here.. so, who the hell could it be?

expecting someone like danvers or rogers, quentin tapped his watch, making the illusion suit appear in place of his regular clothes. no one was fucking ruining this for him.

the avengers had done enough and.. now, he would take care of natasha. still, what’s on the other side of the door is even more surprising - what the hell?

he doesn’t need to be a genius (which he is, thank you very much), to know that clint barton is standing on the other side of the door. ah, ah, surprise! did he know? probably not.

not many people knew about him and natasha. ava, yelena, rogers, danvers and now.. this.

“no, i clearly am not.” he grins (fucking asshole wasn’t going to ruin their dinner - not even if quentin had to throw the archer off the window), before holding out a hand. “you’re clint, right?hawkeye. natasha told me all about you. nice to meet you - i’m quentin beck, her husband.”

deal with that, you stupid idiot. this asshole had let his wife die in vormir and.. quentin beck wasn’t the forgiving type. maybe another one to get rid of, when this was all over.

maybe. just fucking maybe.

natasha’s... husband.

husband. of natasha.

it takes clint a second to wrap his mind around that fact - natasha? settling down? since when? maybe he misheard? - and for a long moment, clint just blinks, eyebrows raised.

“huh.”

he realises, belatedly, that quentin beck, natasha’s husband, used not only his name, but his name. natasha’s husband, who natasha had outed his secret identity to. fan-fucking-tastic.

this was a bad idea.

“bucks, you of all people know i can’t resist a disabled dog, but i’m pretty sure my landlord will actually kick me out if i bring home any more animals.”

not that clint isn’t tempted. because ho boy, is clint tempted.

he’s serious when he says the landlord might kick him out. it’s a two pet limit, and clint’s currently fostering four, teaching two deaf dogs commands in sign language, helping another get accustomed to using a wheelchair, and a fourth well on her way to becoming a service dog. and this is on top of clint’s own, personal dog.

this is dumb. 

this is dumb as hell.

he’s tried to forget her, really, he has. move on, already. remember bobbi? you liked bobbi.

this crush he’s harbouring on natasha romanoff will probably be the death of him someday. and yet, clint just can’t put it behind him.

at least he hadn’t had to do anything creepy to find her address. phonebooks were helpful like that. the fact that natasha is in the phonebook at all should probably have been his first clue that maybe not all is right in the world.

he’s not sure what to expect when he knocks on the door. he didn’t bring flowers or anything, he’s not that embarrassing. but he almost wishes he had something to keep his hands busy.

he takes to fiddling with his hearing aid, turning the volume up and down and amusing himself with how the birds nearby get quiet, and then loud, and then quiet again.

the door opens when the hearing aid is turned down, startling him. though, not as much as the man on the other side of the door startles him.