Title: Crossing paths II- the psych and the billionaire
Author: Little Firestar 84
Fandoms: The Avengers (2012 movie); The Mentalist
Word Count: ~2130
Rating: T
Language: English
Genres: Humor, Parody
Characters: Hawkeye (Clint Barton); Iron Man (Tony Stark); Teresa Lisbon; Patrick Jane.
Summary: The objective of Clint Barton's life is ruining Patrick Jane's happiness- a sweet revenge, considering that he is doing it by dating Teresa Lisbon. But having Tony Stark tagging along, and discovering that the world is smaller than what they thought? Even better. Even if Tony too has the hots for sweet Teresa...
Disclaimers: Disney owns Marvels Studios AND Marvel Comics, ergo, it owns the Avengers (all of them) and the quickly mentioned Guardians of the Galaxy's Rocket Raccoon. CBS and Bruno Heller own the Mentalist. Me? I'm no Disney, Heller or CBS, so...
Notes: sequel to Crossing Paths- the story the cover was made for.
Most days, Clint Barton hated wearing a badge. It wasn't that he disliked completely working for law enforcement. He just would have loved it more, had he chosen on his own to join SHIELD, which he hadn't. Fury Jr. and Culson had just came to him while he was rotting in prison in Kansas (because of that idiot of Paddy Jane) and they told him that, as it was his third strike with the law, it was either something like twelve years between four walls, or working for them with a clean record. Sometimes he still wondered why they asked at all. Was that really anything to choose at all? Nope. Besides, back then he had been childish and naive. So much he thought that working for the closest thing to the secret service was cool. Too bad reality was a tiny bit different from what he had long dreamt about while running around the country with the carnival.
Today, though, Clint Barton loved wearing his shield. Because being top class secret service-elite class superhero (not that the world already knew about the Avengers Initiative, but still...) meant skipping the line to enter into federal buildings. And he really felt like not wasting time, all things considered. A sexy brunette with the hots for him and Paddy Jane jealous and crazy and just plain mad? Clint Barton was definitely the kind of man who didn't waste such a golden opportunity.
Well... he guessed that having his best friend at his side was helping too. Especially given the fact that his best (mortal, human, American, male and civilian) friend was genius and billionaire extraordinaire Anthony "Tony" Stark (AKA the Invincible Iron Man, but it wasn't like the world already knew that too. As far as humanity was concerned, The Iron Man, the War Machine and the Patriot were "just" top class drones). And the world loved Tony Stark. Hell, he did too. In a bromantic kind of way, of course. Romance and hot, passionate, messy sex were for brunette women. And blondes. And redheads. Well... with the exception of redheads Pepper Pott, Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Django. And brunettes Betty Ross and Jane Foster. He really, really didn't want to be on the bad side of his team-mates. Because, frankly? He liked being alive. Too much to drive mad guys as Tony Stark, James Barnes, Pietro Django (the guy was sick. He had the hots for his twin sister. He was in serious need of therapy), the Hulk (apparently, the green guy liked Betty more than her ex-husband did) and Thor.
But Paddy Jane? He could die just to drive him mad. And then return to drive him even madder and gloat a tiny bit. After all, it wasn't like it was impossible to die and then come back to life in his line of work...
"Ehy, hit man, are you thinking about the devilish things you'll do to your brunette or about murdering someone with a perfect hit of your arrows?" Tony asked once they were in the elevator. Clint grinned a bit more, his eyes were kind of evil. He was actually thinking about doing both things, in a certain sense. Because Paddy would die once discovered what his plans for his brunette boss were. And that she definitely was into them.
"You know, I think you should get yourself a catch phrase. You know, as in that cartoon we used to watch when we were kids, "Thing ring, do your thing!" or my friend Rocket Raccoon. He shots at evil aliens, and bang! Murder you!"
Clint didn't bother explaining that, as a kid, he was always busy either moving from a town to the next one with the carnie or rehearsing his number, so, no, he didn't watch TV a lot. He was too busy thinking about the Rocket Raccoon friend comment. What kind of man choose Raccoon as call-name? Hell, it was almost like... like calling himself The Wolverine.
"Chicks dig into catch phrases" Tony explained, misunderstanding Clint's silence. "Hey, I could give you few of mines from the old bachelor days. Pepper insists that we have to be monogamous, but, between the two us? I think there may have been something dirty going on between my girlfriend and our late Agent Culson. Don't get me wrong, I am so sorry that he died to save humanity, but on a personal level, I am kind of glad. Dividing my bed with him was kind of... creepy, if you get what I mean."
"Actually, I was thinking about what kind of man calls himself Raccoon..."
"Oh, no. His name's Rocket." Tony dismissed him, like it was nothing.
"Poor lad should consider changing his surname. Or maybe his whole name, while he is at it." Clint said, then, he grinned. "His parents really hated him, uhm?"
"Actually, he doesn't have parents. He has a crazy scientist who created him while forcing evolution onto a poor raccoon. And then a guy came along and called the humanoid raccoon Rocket. So, Rocket the Raccoon... and then Rocket Raccoon. For short."
Clint didn't bother answering to that. He knew that, given their line of work, there was a good chance Tony wasn't lying to him.
"I'm not lying" Tony told him, calm and cool, very collected..
"I know you are not." Clint huffed, rolling his eyes. How long could it take a ride in the elevator to the fifth floor? Too long, if you were to ask him.
"That's exactly what I would say to the guy who gave me his suit for an hot date with an even hotter hardcore brunette."
"You gave me your worst suit, Tony" Clint explained, slowly, like he was talking with a five years old. Which wasn't so far from the truth. Tony was childish. A genius, but a child nevertheless.
"Yeah, but my worst suit is your best one, and frankly? Blondie, you rock my Armani. I think you should keep it. But only if you promise to never call me a liar, again"
"I didn't say you were a liar"
"You thought it. I know it. I'm smart, remember? Extremis augmented kind of smart. Tony Stark 2.0 kind of smart."
"Yeah... Sure I did, 'cause we don't work with an extra-dimensional alien-slash wonnabe God, or a scientist who turns himself into a crazy green giant. Or a guy who's been on ice for over fifty years. Or his former sidekick, who's been brainwashed by KGB. And his on-off girlfriend, Who may or may not be Anastasia Romanoff. And let's not talk about the Fury's. Trust me, you don't want to go there."
Tony was about to ask what Clint meant with the plural- as far as he was concerned, One Nick Fury was even too much for the world to handle- and Clint was about to fire his weapon at the damn elevator, when, finally, the door opened, and standing before him, there was a brunette clad in chocolate brown silk smiling seductively at him.
"Well, hello agent Barton" Lisbon purred, offering Clint her hand to shake. The former carnie guy, though, saw Jane in the distance, and decided to up the ante, and used the offered hand to bring her closer, and kissed her tenderly on the lips.
"Hello, Teresa. I am honored you accepted my invitation to join me at dinner." he told her as she kept looking at him dreamily, with such an adoration they were going to die soon of sugar overdose. "I hope you'll forgive me, but your beauty clouded my judgment."
"Yep. It clouded mine, too. Hello, Teresa. I'm Anthony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist, and you are making me reconsider monogamy. Or getting married to my girlfriend. Would you prefer me if I was a cheating bastard with one feet in two shoes, or if I were to break the heart of my former secretary because of you?"
"She would rather prefer if you were to leave her out of this, Tony, as she is about to have dinner with me. Besides, I only allowed you to tag along for the trip because you have dinner with the governor. You remember?"
"Ehy, ehy, ehy, let's be clear. You didn't allow me to tag along. I did. You may have driven, but guess what? The car you parked in their garage? It's mine."
"Yeah, well, you can keep it. I don't care. Because I have Teresa."
"Yeah, well, guess what? I am going to take back my suit, then. As in, right now!" Tony stated, and jumped on Clint. He guessed it wasn't such a smart move- They both didn't have super-powers, but Clint was a trained super-super spy, after all...
Well, at least, if Teresa's look was of any indication, she was delighted, seeing two men fighting over her favor.
"You know, Lisbon, I don't understand. If you wanted childish, you should have come to me. At least I'm not a complete idiot."
Clint didn't care about the sudden appearance of Paddy Jane's voice, but he could swear that he saw something passing through Tony's eyes. Something that both delighted and scared him. After all, no one delivered vengeance like Tony Stark did.
"YOU!" Tony screamed, pointing an accusing finger at Jane, who immediately run to hide behind Lisbon's skirt. Clint grinned, very, very happy. Looked like he was right. The guys knew each other, and Tony hated the hell out of Paddy. Ah, how much he loved his life!
"You sick. dirty, bastard of a son of a bitch... stop hiding behind a woman's skirt and be a man! Face me, if you have the courage!" Tony yelled. Clint lifted his eyebrows. His friend was really mad. He really had to hate his former carnie-mate. Tony was always so polite. Only when he yelled about the Mandarin he was that rude. Or his father. Or his former partner. Or the guys who had kidnapped him.
"Ok, Jane, let's listen. What did you do this time?" Lisbon asked, exasperated. She wanted to get out of this unfortunate situation as soon as possible. Her plans, after all, involved dinner, dance and fancy hotel, and not saving yet again Patrick Jane's ass.
"Well, you see, a long time ago, when I used to live in Malibu on a regular basis and I enjoyed the spotlight, Tony and I were neighbors. After his father passed away, I went to, you know...make my condolences, and..."
"YOU DID NOT SUCH A THING, YOU MORON! YOU CONNED MY MOTHER BY SAYING YOU COULD TALK WITH MY FATHER!"
As soon as she heard the words, Lisbon, crossing her arms, moved a tiny bit, allowing Jane to be yet again on sight. And now, Jane could see his opponent too. And frankly? Right now, he would have preferred being face to face with Red John, than dealing with Tony Stark.
Tony slowly approached Jane, his eyes focused on the consultant's face, staring like he was a prey. He acted with utter nonchalance, like he didn't want to hurt him, like they were long lost friend seeing each other for the first time after years apart. Hell, he even smiled. But as soon as he was that close, so close that they could feel each other's breathing...
Tony hit him with his bare fist, as forcedly as he could.
"By node! He boke my node! I dad to wod wid by node!" Jane cried, sitting on the floor like he was a child who had just hurt his knees, his fist firmly closed around his bloody nose.
"What did he say?!" Tony hissed, fighting back tears as he massaged his aching hand. He was pretty sure it was broken. Damn fraud. Like Patrick Jane hadn't caused him enough troubles since the damn fake psych moved in next door a long time before.
"He said that you broke his nose that he has to work with it-which is a lie. Jane, despite current opinion, we don't pay you for your dashing look. We pay you to close cases. You remember? Oh, wait..." Lisbon paused, getting on her knees right before him and squeezing his cheek like she was an annoying aunt having to deal with an even more annoying brat. "You are with us to get and kill Red John, so guess what? I don't care." She stood, and joined Clint and Tony, one arm around each of the fashionable, handsome, sexy men, and they reached the elevator, together.
"So, Tony...can I call you Tony? I've heard my dear Clint saying you are supposed to have dinner with the governor this fine evening, but in the meantime, are you interested in tips in punching Patrick Jane in the face? I am an expert on the matter. I even developed a technique that doesn't leave any sign..."