The Quartet
Hey people, I was planning on writing the next chapter of confessions of a black widow, but I had this idea and I had to write it down. It's been raining for three days here thought you'd like too know. Also please keep in mind the fact I haven't been to Paris in about four years but it is still my favourite city in the world (Leipzig and Dublin are a close second) care to share your favourite cities?
Oh yeah I can't claim the characters only the plot(which doesn't yet exist and the universe, so kneel peasants!)
Also swearing be warned
The quartet practised in the park the day the music died -Don McLean
It was raining. So typical, I thought to myself, as I dashed through the streets of Paris. But, my brain mused, at least you aren't Stark, or Bruce for that matter. Thank God I only have three relatively small things to carry, yes I counted my umbrella. I sigh as a moped sprays grimy water over my shoes, if only I hadn't stopped at my favourite café for a latte, then I could have been pitched up and dry. My mind is quickly kidnapped from its wandering state as my umbrella slips and the freezing volley of water starts to slide down my back and neck. The one rainy day this week, we had to pick the only rainy day of the entire fucking week.
I spot Barton's sandy hair and see him pass through the gateway across the street. I force myself to follow. Not the least bit surprised that he's neglected to open his umbrella in spite of the unrelenting onslaught from the heavens. Thor would love this, there you go again you could have been run ov- car! Having successfully evaded all forms of traffic La rue tried to maim me with, I allow my mind to wander back to Thor and pray that he's happy in New York. I want him to be safe too but I think that's a bit to much to ask, I mean he did manage to set a toaster on fire. I guess Thor is just the kind of guy who can be happy anywhere, even on a different planet, but even Tony worries.
I'm surrounded by the greenness that is Le jardin du Luxembourg. As I meander along the rapidly emptying paths, I can see the dry patches of recently vacated spots and de-populated benches that are beginning to show specKles of water. I am half tempted to call out to Barton to easy the growing sense of emptiness in the park around me. But he won't hear me over the rain's unhappy compliance with gravity. That and the fact that if either Banner or Stark are within hearing range I (and Clint) will be mocked to distraction, I'm not in the mood for that. Ever.
The last hundred meters or so of my walk are undisturbed, people rarely venture into this forgotten nook of the park. As I round the last corner I can see Clint reluctantly open his virtually unused purple umbrella and prop it against a miraculously dry chair squirrelled away after our last group met up.
It makes me feel like a teenager again I have the urge to laugh drop my possessions and pelt over to the spot underneath the twining limbs and branches of ancient looking trees regardless of the physics obeying water. Instead I just smile, Clint's already grinning, his eyes are sparkling. His expression turns playful. "Bonjour Mademoiselle."
"Your French is still terrible Barton, how long have you lived here?" In all honesty my french is no better but his American accent does tend to make French incomprehensible and just unpretty. "Longer than you Tasha. Now come on stick your umbrella up, last thing we want is 'em getting wet."
"If they do I blame Tony. I swear it was him who said 'let's met on Tuesday, it's supposed to be sunny'." Clint shook his head. Which was still dripping wet despite the overly large umbrella he was taking refuge under. "Nat you blame the man for everything." I open my mouth to deny it but Bruce beat me to it. "Face it Romanoff, when asked what was the cause of world hunger you said, bearing in mind this is a word for word perfect quote, Tony Stark." Damn him and his silent foot steps.
"To be fair to me the question was actually about over population. I mean let's accept it, he's enough of a man whore." Bruce look slightly taken aback by the lack of subtlety but doesn't actually disagree. Whereas Barton is sat there nodding sombrely in agreement but as soon as our eyes meet our facades vanish and we both burst out laughing simultaneously. Bruce simply smiles at our rarely seen childish antics, opens a third huge umbrella and proceeds to lean heavily on his case.
"How are you liking the weather my friends?" Tony stops and actually acknowledges our glares and drenched bodies. "What? It's not my fault you peasants can't afford a cab." He makes a show of brushing water off his designer coat. And there goes any sympathy I might have had the capacity to feel for him later. "Are we going to start or just stand around discussing things, like last weekend I went to this art gallery and bar place opening, stupid waste of my time I agree, but I met this awesome brunette and lemme tell you she was good. Hey why's everyone shrunk?" Typical. We're bored, sat down and ready to start and he's just rambling on about his sex life, point proved Banner.
He responds to the hint and begins to untangle his seat from the bungee cords he strapped it to the flight case with. Promptly plonking the dripping perch down as close to Bruce as possible. "Do I really have to be the first?" He never fails to sound childlike (in the worst way). We all make eye contact glancing briefly from one to the next. Then begin to move mechanically. Unclasping and unzipping our cases in almost perfect unison, despite the size difference. I glance inside and check that no water has seeped in and that the humidity in the case is still low. I extract my bow from the rest and rosin it methodically having perfected the skill over the years, I lay the bow across my knees, which are not dripping wet.
I nudge my shoulder rest into place and experimentally pluck the strings, I can hear the others doing the same I automatically give the D peg a slight twist which is swiftly followed by a minor adjustment to the E string. I allow my eyes to drift over the scene laid out before me, as I lazily draw my bow across the A string in time with the others, a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. Barton sees, and having completed the sacred ritual of tuning up, winks at me 'Let the show begin'
"Come on Avengers while we're sti..."
"Avengers? Whom are we avenging?" Stark leans around his Double Bass, it looks very precarious. "The music." his face implies 'have you heard the shit on the radio' well yes unfortunately.
"Le danse macabre?" Bruce enquiries. Barton Looks thoroughly unimpressed seeing as it is his firm belief that it should only be played at midnight or on Halloween. He does love it though dancing skeleingtons seem to amuse him. "No. We should start with something easier, you know to warm up a bit." We are all stumped, since when was Tony Stark a voice of reason? " We could start with Intermezzo Nocturno by Dvorak." Yes I know I said it was overplayed Barton that not the same as I don't like it. What? He was giving me the look of who are you and what have you done with my best friend. As a zen looking Bruce counts us in I focus on nothing but the music that I haven't played for around three months, how stiff and cold my fingers are feeling and lastly how fantastic it feels to be playing with people I trust again. As that bounces about my skull i lip further into the movement to the point of obliviousness almost.
btw for people who are not orchestral string players rosin is the stuff you put on bows to give them traction against the strings. (i play viola and double bass(badly)). And also the trust thing you have to trust your group to be able to correct their own mistakes and they need to be able to trust you to correct your own. Hey I'm a music geek leave me be.
Right if you haven't heard Le danse macabre go listen to it right NOW! Me and my best friend were humming it and head nodding to it on the back of a bus, I'm also learning it on guitar it's so cool. Oh I've got Bruce as a cellist and Natasha as a violinist. I know most string quartets have two violins and no double bass, but i can't leave my own instrument out. sorry(*looks sheepish*)
This story was originally intended to be a one shot but I now have other ideas. That involve Steve and Fury.
Ps please reveiw you have no idea how high it makes me seem.
Love you keep up the awesomeness