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crack_van2013-03-08 01:29 pm
stars-inthe-sky.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2013-03-08 01:29 pm
Entry tags:
"Congratulations on an Excellent Kill" by igrockspock (T)
Fandom: The Avengers (movieverse)
Pairing: Natasha/Clint friendship
Length: ~1600 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
igrockspock
Author Website: AO3
Why this must be read: I'm all for shipping Natasha and Clint, but I think fics examining their friendship can often be even more interesting. This is a sort of fun twist on the extent to which our pair of master assassins understands one another, and it's written by a talented author.
On her first day of freedom, Natasha goes to Target.
"Why are you going there?" Clint asks.
Because fitting in makes her feel secure, Natasha thinks, and it's time to learn to fit in at SHIELD. Red Room had been populated by slinky agents wearing black leather who expressed their feelings by fighting or fucking. When she'd left them, she'd alternated between seducing targets in swanky hotels and killing them in the seamy underbellies of border cities. SHIELD is like no place she's ever been, inhabited by bland-looking men and women who wear boring suits and apparently sleep in normal, middle class homes. And on the weekends, they shop at Target, so that's what Natasha will do.
She slides a knife into the back of her boot and shrugs at Clint.
"Because I feel like it," she snaps. She's not used to people questioning her comings and goings, and now that SHIELD has taken her off the short leash, she has no intention of justifying her every move -- even if Clint looks hurt every time she refuses to answer his questions.
The Target store in Queens feels as big as a train station, its blank white walls contrasting bizarrely with the gray subway station she'd emerged from. Natasha keeps her back to a wall at the edge of the clothing section and stares at photographs of blond models frolicking in fields. She arranges her body into a pose like theirs. It's a good approximation, but customers stare. Then she tells herself to pretend she has a target in the store, and she blends in better after that.
In the housewares section, she runs her hands over brightly-colored plastic plates and tries to imagine taking them home. A gift for Clint, maybe. His hurt expression is still hovering around the edges of her mind, refusing to let go. But she can't picture him using these, and she likes his chipped and mismatched collection of dinner plates. They feel more like something that could belong to her
She stops at a display of greeting cards on her way to the exit. FOR SOMEONE SPECIAL and THANK YOU FOR BEING MY FRIEND, they say. Most of them have pictures of puppies and kittens, and none of them seem quite right for...whatever she has with Clint. Still, they're an American custom, and Clint is American. Maybe this is what he expects? She snatches up a card with two cartoon rabbits on the front and leaves the store without paying.
Congratulations on an Excellent Kill
Pairing: Natasha/Clint friendship
Length: ~1600 words
Author on LJ:
igrockspockAuthor Website: AO3
Why this must be read: I'm all for shipping Natasha and Clint, but I think fics examining their friendship can often be even more interesting. This is a sort of fun twist on the extent to which our pair of master assassins understands one another, and it's written by a talented author.
On her first day of freedom, Natasha goes to Target.
"Why are you going there?" Clint asks.
Because fitting in makes her feel secure, Natasha thinks, and it's time to learn to fit in at SHIELD. Red Room had been populated by slinky agents wearing black leather who expressed their feelings by fighting or fucking. When she'd left them, she'd alternated between seducing targets in swanky hotels and killing them in the seamy underbellies of border cities. SHIELD is like no place she's ever been, inhabited by bland-looking men and women who wear boring suits and apparently sleep in normal, middle class homes. And on the weekends, they shop at Target, so that's what Natasha will do.
She slides a knife into the back of her boot and shrugs at Clint.
"Because I feel like it," she snaps. She's not used to people questioning her comings and goings, and now that SHIELD has taken her off the short leash, she has no intention of justifying her every move -- even if Clint looks hurt every time she refuses to answer his questions.
The Target store in Queens feels as big as a train station, its blank white walls contrasting bizarrely with the gray subway station she'd emerged from. Natasha keeps her back to a wall at the edge of the clothing section and stares at photographs of blond models frolicking in fields. She arranges her body into a pose like theirs. It's a good approximation, but customers stare. Then she tells herself to pretend she has a target in the store, and she blends in better after that.
In the housewares section, she runs her hands over brightly-colored plastic plates and tries to imagine taking them home. A gift for Clint, maybe. His hurt expression is still hovering around the edges of her mind, refusing to let go. But she can't picture him using these, and she likes his chipped and mismatched collection of dinner plates. They feel more like something that could belong to her
She stops at a display of greeting cards on her way to the exit. FOR SOMEONE SPECIAL and THANK YOU FOR BEING MY FRIEND, they say. Most of them have pictures of puppies and kittens, and none of them seem quite right for...whatever she has with Clint. Still, they're an American custom, and Clint is American. Maybe this is what he expects? She snatches up a card with two cartoon rabbits on the front and leaves the store without paying.
Congratulations on an Excellent Kill
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