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Marvel Cinematic, "Wrong Person" (Tony+Clint)
What if Clint hadn't made a different call when he was tasked to kill the Black Widow? Well... Tony still needs a notary, doesn't he?
Inspired by the what-if prompt on![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fic_promptly, What if Clint hadn't made a different call? For some reason instead of anything involving Clint and Natasha, these alternate scenes from Iron Man 2 popped into my head.
.wrong person.
"The notary is here," Tony heard Pepper call. Neither he nor Happy paid her any mind, continuing their match in the ring. The exertion got his heartrate up, made him feel active, alive, healthy. He still wasn't sure whether or not he was going to tell her that he wasn't the last and might not be the middle for much longer. His preparations were still in early stages. Pepper deserved better, but then, she always had.
He telegraphed a punch at Happy, and when the other man dodged, swept his leg. Tony opened his mouth to say something, but it was cut short by the sound of Pepper's laughter ringing through the air.
Now he turned to look.
The notary was a man, about Pepper's age, with crewcut hair and blue eyes. He was smiling at her warmly while she laughed at whatever he'd said, standing what Tony considered to be unnecessarily close, and even with his professional gray slacks and professional powder blue button-up shirt and professional suit vest, it was obvious that he was fit: his waist trim, his shoulders and arms thick with muscle. In fact, he was what Tony considered to be unnecessarily fit.
"Are you guys starting the party without me?" Tony asked casually, gliding away from Happy's attempt to complain. "I thought I was the main guy here. Isn't it my signature that makes Pepper rich as sin?"
"I prefer to think of it as getting the pay raise for the work I've already been doing," she said dryly, turning to face him.
"Who's this?" he asked. Casually.
"The notary."
"Clinton Brown," the other man said easily, holding out his hand for a handshake. "I'm from Legal. Pleasure to meet you, sir."
Tony took a long sip of his chlorophyll shake, considering that hand. Then he said, "You box, chief?"
Clinton shrugged. "Sure, I've been in the ring a few times."
Exasperated, Pepper cut in, "Tony, no. Can we just... sign the document, and not turn this into some sort of alpha male posturing? I have a meeting in forty-five minutes!"
"It won't take that long," Tony said, leading the way. "You only really need a minute or two to figure out who's alpha male."
And he considered his primal simian display of superiority well-established when he sent Clinton Brown sprawling with a bloody nose in scarcely over a minute later. It was satisfying, even if Pepper cried out in horror and then insisted on fussing over him. Tony decided to be the bigger man and offer him a hand up.
After taking him down a peg, it was the least he could do.
It was all in stark contrast to the next time they met, when Clinton Brown took him to the floor with three well-placed punches and then pinned him in place with his thighs, jamming a needle into his neck. For a panicked heartbeat Tony thought, That's it, it's over, I guess it's better than the slow death, right?
And then Clinton was off, efficiently stripping the needle, retreating a few steps to stand beside Fury, who was watching with every evidence of calm.
"Okay-- What the hell," Tony choked, starting to straighten, painfully aware of his creaky muscles. "I am... so telling Pepper on you."
This threat did not impress his attacker. "If you can't take it, don't dish it out," the man said. There wasn't even a flicker of interest in his eyes, much less remorse.
Fury said, tempering, "That injection is treating the symptoms of your palladium poisoning. It should give you the time you need to find a cure."
Those words surprised Tony, and he paused, uncertain. "A cure? Right. Because -- all I need is a few more days to get my degree in microbiology, and develop a vaccine. Or check WebMD, they've probably got something. That'll be my backup plan, in case, you know. Unicorn College doesn't have a credited microbiology program I can complete in thirty-six hours."
"Have fun with that. I, for one, don't believe in unicorns," Fury said without blinking. "I believe in your dad's notes, which said you could fix this. Although I'm starting to think he may have overestimated you."
And those words were less of a surprise than complete gibberish. "It's really obvious that you don't know anything about my dad," Tony said, lifting a hand to the agent. It was the least he could do, since he was objectively responsible for the way Tony's back was creaking right now. He felt every minute of his age.
"Sorry," the man whose name was not Clinton Brown said, coldly. "If you were looking for a hand up, you're asking the wrong person."
Tony blinked, slowly thinking that he might have made an enemy -- because this guy was not about to forgive anything, maybe ever.
"Oh boy," he said to Fury. "Please pretty please tell me that he gets to be a Power Ranger with me in your grand plan."
Fury sighed. "Let's... focus on the issue, shall we?" he said tactfully.
Inspired by the what-if prompt on
fic_promptly, What if Clint hadn't made a different call? For some reason instead of anything involving Clint and Natasha, these alternate scenes from Iron Man 2 popped into my head..wrong person.
"The notary is here," Tony heard Pepper call. Neither he nor Happy paid her any mind, continuing their match in the ring. The exertion got his heartrate up, made him feel active, alive, healthy. He still wasn't sure whether or not he was going to tell her that he wasn't the last and might not be the middle for much longer. His preparations were still in early stages. Pepper deserved better, but then, she always had.
He telegraphed a punch at Happy, and when the other man dodged, swept his leg. Tony opened his mouth to say something, but it was cut short by the sound of Pepper's laughter ringing through the air.
Now he turned to look.
The notary was a man, about Pepper's age, with crewcut hair and blue eyes. He was smiling at her warmly while she laughed at whatever he'd said, standing what Tony considered to be unnecessarily close, and even with his professional gray slacks and professional powder blue button-up shirt and professional suit vest, it was obvious that he was fit: his waist trim, his shoulders and arms thick with muscle. In fact, he was what Tony considered to be unnecessarily fit.
"Are you guys starting the party without me?" Tony asked casually, gliding away from Happy's attempt to complain. "I thought I was the main guy here. Isn't it my signature that makes Pepper rich as sin?"
"I prefer to think of it as getting the pay raise for the work I've already been doing," she said dryly, turning to face him.
"Who's this?" he asked. Casually.
"The notary."
"Clinton Brown," the other man said easily, holding out his hand for a handshake. "I'm from Legal. Pleasure to meet you, sir."
Tony took a long sip of his chlorophyll shake, considering that hand. Then he said, "You box, chief?"
Clinton shrugged. "Sure, I've been in the ring a few times."
Exasperated, Pepper cut in, "Tony, no. Can we just... sign the document, and not turn this into some sort of alpha male posturing? I have a meeting in forty-five minutes!"
"It won't take that long," Tony said, leading the way. "You only really need a minute or two to figure out who's alpha male."
And he considered his primal simian display of superiority well-established when he sent Clinton Brown sprawling with a bloody nose in scarcely over a minute later. It was satisfying, even if Pepper cried out in horror and then insisted on fussing over him. Tony decided to be the bigger man and offer him a hand up.
After taking him down a peg, it was the least he could do.
It was all in stark contrast to the next time they met, when Clinton Brown took him to the floor with three well-placed punches and then pinned him in place with his thighs, jamming a needle into his neck. For a panicked heartbeat Tony thought, That's it, it's over, I guess it's better than the slow death, right?
And then Clinton was off, efficiently stripping the needle, retreating a few steps to stand beside Fury, who was watching with every evidence of calm.
"Okay-- What the hell," Tony choked, starting to straighten, painfully aware of his creaky muscles. "I am... so telling Pepper on you."
This threat did not impress his attacker. "If you can't take it, don't dish it out," the man said. There wasn't even a flicker of interest in his eyes, much less remorse.
Fury said, tempering, "That injection is treating the symptoms of your palladium poisoning. It should give you the time you need to find a cure."
Those words surprised Tony, and he paused, uncertain. "A cure? Right. Because -- all I need is a few more days to get my degree in microbiology, and develop a vaccine. Or check WebMD, they've probably got something. That'll be my backup plan, in case, you know. Unicorn College doesn't have a credited microbiology program I can complete in thirty-six hours."
"Have fun with that. I, for one, don't believe in unicorns," Fury said without blinking. "I believe in your dad's notes, which said you could fix this. Although I'm starting to think he may have overestimated you."
And those words were less of a surprise than complete gibberish. "It's really obvious that you don't know anything about my dad," Tony said, lifting a hand to the agent. It was the least he could do, since he was objectively responsible for the way Tony's back was creaking right now. He felt every minute of his age.
"Sorry," the man whose name was not Clinton Brown said, coldly. "If you were looking for a hand up, you're asking the wrong person."
Tony blinked, slowly thinking that he might have made an enemy -- because this guy was not about to forgive anything, maybe ever.
"Oh boy," he said to Fury. "Please pretty please tell me that he gets to be a Power Ranger with me in your grand plan."
Fury sighed. "Let's... focus on the issue, shall we?" he said tactfully.
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I mean, your Tony dialogue is still perfect, and I loved the way you described Clint. Clearly you need to give into your long-suppressed urge to RP Tony!
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But other than that, BETRAYAL.
I mean, gorgeous!
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Also bwahahaha, I was evil to you! I'm glad. Evil is awesome. I definitely felt like the Clint who made another call would have to be a colder Clint, so I had fun imagining him being the one who went to babysit Tony instead, especially since he'd be all smiley and charming with Pepper and all hardcore badass bastard under it.
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> amazing mental image follows
And, by the way, you've totally exceeded your quota of evil for the year. Go write me some Rita/Estelle or something. :D
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