all_inclusive | i'm breaking through to you

Entry tags:

i'm breaking through to you

It had been a couple of weeks since his birthday. God he was old.

Well, not really, he supposed; he was in peak physical condition. Being scrawny as a kid did that to you; after he hit puberty, all he wanted was to be big and strong. He got over it eventually, but he kept himself in the peak of health for the sake of his job and his own survival. But emotionally, he felt worn down, and it wasn't pleasant.

Natasha, for a woman who disliked something so acceptable as Christmas, had deemed his birthday worthy of celebration. That was one of the cute things about her, normally hidden underneath the very thick layer that was prowling seductress and living weapon, and he was grateful to have her around. He didn't see what was so important about a birthday and he had more or less grown out of it after he'd turned twenty-one and could legally drink. Even though it had been strange for him, he'd celebrated with her. It was the least he could do.

Forty-two years old. Good lord. He should be older, technically, since Natasha was in the future; did his age, right then in the hotel, even really matter? Things were getting mixed up, so he did his best to ignore it and just continue on as if nothing weird was happening. He'd worked out in the gym for a good hour before showering it off and then wandering outside. There was some sort of carnival going on, which he wasn't hugely interested in; but parts of the lawn were nice and chilly, and good to cool down in. Also good to cool down the piping hot pizza he'd ordered. He didn't work out to lose weight, so the idea of not eating terrible food only occurred to him when he considered heart health (and, to be frank, he never survived longer than a week on vegetables).

He sat on the edge of a part of the lawn that had a cool, chilly breeze on one side and a sultry heat on the other - it was pretty cool how strange the weather was here - and relaxed, enjoying the fact he got to lounge around beside an entire pizza and not feel like he ought to be doing something else. It was weird being jobless, but not unpleasant. It was also kind of nice to not have the pressure of the fate of the world hovering over his head; he just had to worry whether or not Natasha was glum, and as far as he knew she was in high spirits these days.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hail, friend!"

Thor was in high spirits. The yule festivities and the coming of the new year was always a time of great joy for him and this year had been no exception. He had his mother and his woman and, well, his brother and that had been a happier holiday than most. Most of his close friends were here in the Nexus as well - Steve, Sif, Natasha.

And not-so-close friends, like Clint, though Thor hoped to remedy that. "Are you well?"

Okay, well, maybe he wasn'i that old, now that the god of thunder had just moseyed on up. He wasn't sure how old Thor was or if he even celebrated or acknowledged birthdays, but it was more or less certain he was a damn sight older than Clint.

"Hey, man," he greeted, jovially. It had been some time since he'd seen Thor around the hotel, but he trusted he hadn't come to harm. That was probably the perk of being immortal. "Well enough. I've got pizza, but no beer. I guess that's life though."

"I'm sure I could find ale somewhere if you required it," Thor said, taking a chair opposite Clint even if he had not been formally invited. He supposed when one had done battle alongside the other, such formalities were not necessarily needed.

"Pizza, I think, is one of the greatest things about Midgard. I could feast on it for every meal and never get tired of it."

"I might wait until it's a little later in the evening before we start breaking the drinks out," Clint said, warmly. "Thanks anyway, though."

He hadn't bothered to invite Thor to sit with him because he assumed the other man knew he was welcome to linger as long as he liked; when Clint didn't like people and he was being paid to act like it, he made his opinions easily known. Despite being a spy, Clint preferred to keep everything relatively straightforward, and he didn't hide much from his companions. Once trust was earned, he kept to it. "Have a piece, or several," he added.

"Dangerous offer," Thor pointed out. It was well known that the Asgardian appetite for food and drink far exceeded most of Midgard and Thor was no exception to that. Still, he only took a few slices of pizza because he was aware that sating his voracious appetite might result in a food shortage.

"Have you been back to New York recently? Or have you remained here?" Thor went back and forth often, though his recent trips through the doors had taken him to Asgard and not Midgard.

"Only dangerous for someone who doesn't intend to order more if need be," Clint replied, with a wry grin. "I'm well aware of how much you could put away when you're in the mood."

New York was not his favorite place to be, anymore, which was a shame, because during calm times he quite liked living in it. "I've been out and about," he said, carefully, "not in New York, but elsewhere, before I ended up here. I think it's more beneficial for me to remain here for the time being. In any case, I like to keep an eye on Nat."

"I think she can keep both eyes on herself," Thor said. His voice rung with both approval and appreciation; Natasha was one of the most skilled warriors he had ever met in his considerable time on both Midgard and Asgard.

"You work better together, though, don't you?"

It was interesting to Darcy how often she could be perceived as lazy, perhaps something to do with the combination of dry humor and a propensity for stuffing her face, but the life of a college student and intern was not an idle one and that was doubly so for the intern of a one Jane Foster. Her life before the Nexus had become a series of peaks of excitement that bordered on catastrophic and then long, chilly dry spells of basic science and Jane’s upset. She wasn’t complaining about her life before or after the Nexus as near death experiences aside Darcy was pretty sure she still held a decent deck as far as life went, but there were days when her hands felt too idle, and she almost wished for some sort of data to compile.

Nothing she was going to admit to out loud, naturally. She had a reputation to protect.

One of the things she enjoyed most about the Nexus was the abundance of people, so many of whom from worlds and places and times so different from her own, and in the instances in which she felt too useless in her own skin, she sat out with the distinct purpose of making a new friend. There were a few traits that could draw an eye naturally – such as a pleasing appearance or one that was different in some way – but Darcy was also a sucker for a real nice pizza, and accordingly its owner lit up bright red on her radar. He seemed to be doing not much of anything, and she figured she wouldn’t be interrupting much with a little conversation.

She started toward him, noticing that when his face came into view it seemed strangely familiar, but not in any way she could put her finger on. It was a pleasant face with round, gentle eyes, and when they met hers she smiled widely at him. “You got a whole bigass pizza for yourself? I like your style.”

Clint, of course, knew exactly who this girl was, unless this was a doppleganger. He'd had to. New Mexico seemed like a very, very long time ago, but Clint's memory was always clear and bright, especially for faces and names. Darcy Lewis, political science major, early twenties - he didn't know how old she was now, for the same reason Clint couldn't even be sure of his own age - and under the employ of Jane Foster. Unpaid intern. Vaguely decent taste in music, though he'd only taken a cursory look at that iPod. Of course, his main focus had been on the research and on the defense of the research site, but he was a spy and his purpose had always been to gather intelligence. He knew every single person involved in the incident in New Mexico, and beyond.

He had no intention in hiding this from her, either. For the most part. Clint dealt in subterfuge and was a master at it, but he knew when to use it and when to let it be. This was a zone where spycraft could come to die, and he had witnessed it even in Natasha, who was bred to lie. In any case, he didn't think Darcy would ever be someone to fear or hide from; she was probably already privy to more than enough classified information purely through Foster alone. "Thanks, but to be fair, style is really the only thing I've got going for me most days," he replied. "Except for my girlish figure. You're free to have a slice or two, or I'll devour the whole thing and ruin that as well."

He sat up a bit from where he had been lounging back, but he didn't get to his feet. That would be weird and too formal. "Are you Darcy Lewis?" he asked. "I think I know you from the New Mexico incident."

So he wasn't going to lie, but the least he could do was pretend he didn't know the entire contents of her file. It's not like it had said a whole lot anyway; she lived a pretty straightforward life.

Darcy tended to think herself awesome enough to warrant instant recognition though it seemed as though most people didn’t share in that opinion. It was all good, their loss, but the fact that this fellow recognized her right off the bat and had a pizza was enough to knock him up about fifty points in her opinion. “Daaaaaaaaaayyyyyyum,” she said, a smile forming on her face as she moved to plop down beside him, stretching out her legs and crossing them at the ankle for the decency of the skirt she was wearing. She picked up a piece of the pizza, minding to collect the strands of cheese that stretched between slices with her fingers to pile on top of the slice in her hand in a loose bundle, then take a bite.

The pizza was delicious, though Darcy had to admit pizza was pretty hard to fuck up. Even when it was bad pizza, it was still pretty good. That this guy knew her from New Mexico and being Jane’s intern gave her some indication as to where she should’ve seen him before, but the exact time still wasn’t clicking.

“Yep, I’m Darcy,” she said once she had swallowed her bite of food, waving with her free hand before wiping at the corner of her mouth. “Hey so, are you with SHIELD or something? Is that where I know you from?” She wriggled one foot and took another mouth. “Anyway, you have good taste. In pizza, and people you choose to remember. I’m known as Jane’s intern all over, though I guess I’d have to do something else with my life to be recognized for anything else, huh?”

Good, it wasn't one of those strange cases of mistaken identity that he'd heard was common around this place. "I used to," he said, when she asked about SHIELD. Not shockingly, telling just anyone who knew what SHIELD was that it had been torn down by some friends of his was not high on his list of priorities.

"Right now I'm just hanging out here," he said, with a vague wave at the hotel, and beyond. "It's less stressful. I was working in New Mexico, though, when Thor was there. It was quite the show." He hadn't been present in the town when the Destroyer had laid waste to it - he had still been at the base, monitoring the hammer. Of course, it randomly ripping up out of the ground had made his position there rather superfluous.

"Hey, trust me, when it comes to SHIELD you really don't want to be noticed for doing much else," he said, good-naturedly. He threw his lot in with them, sure, but he knew what the organization was. "You still tagging around after Foster, then?"

Darcy ate as he explained that he used to work for SHIELD, but made no further explanation as to why he had left. She didn’t know him well enough to press further, though she supposed she was curious in the way minds like hers were always curious. Darcy usually noticed small details, and therefore she liked to collect them in any story. She doubted an exit from SHIELD and all it stood for was ever “small” by any definition and she supposed that was what niggled at her curiosity. It would be an interesting story, no doubt. But, she wouldn’t ask until at least she’d eaten another slice.

“That was one hell of a show,” she said, sighing. “You know at first I was optimistic, like big, golden hunky dudes were just going to fall out of the sky all the time from then on because, you know, I’m a glass half-full kinda girl. But then his weird family started fucking with things, and a whole town almost got demolished and it was a real shitshow.” She took another bite, chewed, and then said, “Nice guy, though. Thor, I mean. Jane seems to like him well enough, and he’s apparently moved on past his whole abandonment thing, so that’s cool.”

She lightly bounced one foot as her bites took her nearer and nearer to the crust of the pizza, at which point she’d be required to turn the slice sideways to get the proper ratio of bread, cheese, and sauce. As she did so she continued to look at her new acquaintance, and only then did the light click. “Hey, you were in New York, weren’t you? I saw you on some of the news footage.”

"Yeah, well. I mean personally Thor isn't my type but I can definitely see the appeal. His great sense of humour, clearly, has the ladies flocking to him in droves." He offered her a bit of a teasing grin, then shook his head. Clint himself was not a man that stood out, and he was perfectly fine with that. Even before he'd become a spy he had been more comfortable with blending in.

What went on with Thor and Jane definitely wasn't his business (well, it technically was in the SHIELD sense, but not in the personal sense, and at the moment he was certainly not a model employee) but he was sure Darcy was hip deep in it. "How long do you have to work for her until you get your credits, anyway?" he asked. "Or is she finally going to start paying you at some point for your invaluable services?"

He reached over and picked up a slice for himself, working around the gooey cheese conundrum that was a part of all good pizzas. "Yeah, I was in New York," he said, before taking a bite. He had a much better time discussing New York than, say, the stuff that happened before it.

“Now see, he’s not my type either,” Darcy said, grinning. “Not now, anyway. Can’t cross the streams on that one, you know what I mean? There’s men, and then there’s men your friends have dated, and the latter category is simply off limits.” She pulled one finger away from her pizza long enough to point it at him. “Listen, personality and a sense of humor can take a guy far,” Darcy said. “Though admittedly I didn’t hear much of what Thor was saying at first over his biceps. You’re right.”

At his question as to when Jane was going to start paying her, Darcy lifted her free hand in a ‘hallelujah’ motion and chewed faster on the bite of pizza she’d taken just before he spoke, swallowing thickly before she replied. “Right?! Oh my God,” she said with a shake of her head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong – I love Jane and the travel and adventures and all that shit are sweet, but I also love having some money in the ass pocket of my jeans, if you know what I mean.” She sighed and shook her head slightly. “I mean, I’m cool now here at the hotel. I’m having a blast. But if I ever get sent back into the real world? Ho-lee shit, my student loans are going to eat me alive.”

That he was in New York meant that she’d been right in her assessment, and her smile reappeared, as she did like that she’d gotten that one right. “I’ve seen other people from New York here, too,” she said. “Though I guess you probably already know about them. Are you guys all pen pals and stuff, or do you generally wait for the shit to hit the fan before you start hanging out again?”

"He's a nice guy," Clint asserted, though that opinion definitely had more to do with his recent experiences with the god than it had to do with what occurred in New York. "I'm sure you've found that out on your own, though. Dr Foster certainly found herself a keeper. I mean... if that sort of thing works in this day and age. I don't know how Asgard works but I wouldn't be surprised if it's super Jane-Austen-y."

At the fact that Darcy was still unpaid help, he had to laugh and shake his head. "You could probably get work here, if you want," he said. "And they'd pay you money. I mean - after New York, I kind of wanted to take a break, so I'm not doing much. And I've actually got a sick amount of money in the bank account which only ever gets spent on pizza and beer, so. But if you wanted to work I'm sure you could. Hanging out here is fun enough.

He shook his head again. "I don't really talk to the others from New York, except for the cute little redhead, not sure if you ever saw her. It does make it easier, though, to be here. I don't have a lot of friends, normally."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i'm breaking through to you

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject