Je N'ai Pas De Mots
By Ammie Hawk
Disclaimer: I hate being sick….
AN: On the eighth day of Christmas, I offer you more Clint/Harry goodness. So here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy.
Chapter 1
"Clint Barton. It's nice to meet you."
Harry almost sagged with relief at the other's answer. He tried to convey his gratitude through his eyes. However, he couldn't dwell on that for long, as Ginny was already starting to stir from her initial shock.
"Clint," he shook his head, "I-I'd like you to meet Ginny. You remember me telling you about her, right?"
"Yeah, right," the blue gaze shifted from the raven to the redhead, sizing her up with a single glance. "Your high school sweetheart, wasn't she?"
"Only in her dreams, maybe," green eyes rolled in annoyance.
"You know I'm only teasing," the blond chuckled slightly. "Anyway, thought I'd stop by and see if you wanted to grab some lunch."
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "I was just about to anyway, but would definitely love the company. Anyway, I'll, uh, catch you later, Ginny."
"But, Harry," she caught his arm as he tried to move around her, "I thought we could catch up while I was here. I told you I'm leaving tomorrow."
"Ginny," he sighed exasperatedly, "I will be at your house for two weeks, we can catch up then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lunch."
Clint took this as his cue and stepped forward. He wrapped his arms around the slightly shorter male and rested his chin on his shoulder, giving the female a calculated look. He felt Harry stiffen slightly in the embrace, but he quickly forced himself to relax against his chest. Oh, he couldn't wait to tell Nat about this one.
"Look, Ginny," he finally said, "I don't know you, and quite frankly first impression's not that great. But, as it stands, I don't get to spend much time with Ry here, he works too much, ya know, and I'm cutting work just to be here right now. So run along, before you find out how much of a jealous boyfriend I can be."
With a final glare at the pair of them, she turned and flounced away. Harry relaxed fully and made to step away from the archer. Clint, however, held him in place for a moment longer.
"If you really want to pull this ruse of yours off," he whispered quietly in the raven's ear, "then you have to see it through. She's not gone, she stopped just around the corner. So, treat me to lunch and I'll consider it fair payment for using me as your fake fiancé."
"Fine," Harry nodded, it was only fair after all. "Shall we go then?"
"Yeah," Clint finally released him, only to drape one arm around his shoulders.
They made their way down the hall in silence. Harry wasn't sure what to say to this man who was acting as his savior. Once they reached the relative safety of the elevator, the wizard hastily stepped away from the archer. He leaned as casually as he could manage against the glass wall and took a good look at the other.
The sad thing was, if the circumstances had been different, he could actually see himself falling for this guy. He cut a fine figure, tall and all lean muscles that were accentuated by the rather tight clothing he wore. But the truth of the matter was he'd used this guy, and after today he'd probably never want to see him again. His cursed luck had struck again.
"So, Harry, is it?" Clint asked, leaning on the adjacent wall.
"Yeah, uh, Harry Black," he shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened back there. I-I panicked. But thanks for going along with it. That was really nice of you."
"Well, what can I say, I'm a nice guy," the archer smirked. "If you don't mind my asking, how do you know that girl anyway? I mean, you'd have to be pretty close if you're staying with her for two weeks."
"I'm not staying with her, per se," he ran a hand through his hair. "She's the little sister of my best friend, and their family kind of adopted me growing up because my parents died when I was a baby."
"I see," Clint nodded.
"Yeah, and on top of that, I kind of have a celebrity status back home, and she's been obsessed with me since before I met her when she was ten. Now, she's convinced that I'm going to marry her and make all her dreams come true."
"And your feelings have no consideration in the matter whatsoever?" a blond brow rose curiously.
"Exactly," Harry chuckled wryly.
"Well, that sounds like a convoluted mess," Clint shook his head. "I'm glad I could help you delay things a bit. Anyway, let's get some food and then I'll let you get back to it."
"Yeah, and thanks again for your help."
"Hell, I'm getting food out of it. So after you," he motioned Harry onward as the elevator doors opened.
888888
That evening, Clint made his way into Avengers Tower, where he currently lived with the other members of the team. When he reached the top floor, he found the other Avengers sitting around the common area, eating dinner. He dropped his gear in his room and made his way to the kitchen. As he grabbed a plate and began filling it, he could feel everyone's eyes on him.
"What?" he turned and leaned against the counter.
"So?" Steve asked. "Did you see him? Do you think he's worthy of our Natasha?"
"Before I answer that," he took a bite, he wasn't about to let their interrogation interrupt his dinner, "Nat, you wouldn't happen to know his name, would you?"
"Black, I believe," the only female of the group frowned slightly. "Harry Black."
"Okay," he nodded. "First off, I didn't make it to Accounting."
"Then why did you ask his name?" the redhead huffed.
"Would you let me finish?" blue eyes rolled in mild annoyance. "I didn't make it to Accounting because I was waylaid in the hallway by Harry Black. And he's pretty much how Nat described him. But on the downside, Nat doesn't stand a chance in hell with him."
"Why would you say that?" the other assassin pouted. "He's not taken. He doesn't have a ring, and from what everyone knows he's not seeing anybody."
"Naw, he's single," the archer took another bite. "You're just not his type."
Everyone gave him a mildly confused look. How could he possibly know this guy's type from one meeting?
"Wait," Tony Stark cut in, "he bats for the other team?"
At this revelation, the billionaire pulled a device from his pocket and began typing away at the screen.
"What team?" Thor asked, still confused. "Is there some competition going on that I did not know about?"
"No, Thor," Bruce Banner rubbed the bridge of his nose in mild exasperation. "It means that someone is physically attracted to someone of the same sex."
"Ah, I see," the Asgardian nodded. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"There's nothing wrong with it, per se," Natasha sat back, folding her arms across her chest, clearly pouting. "It's just not overly accepted. And it means I have no chance with him."
"He's cute," Tony said, projecting the image from his phone so all of them could see. "I can see why you'd be interested, Nat. In fact, I think I might have to try my hand. What do you think, Bullseye?"
"I don't think he'd be interested in you either, Tony," the archer shook his head.
"You know," the captain frowned, "you just met this guy, how do you know all this about him?"
"Well," Clint smirked slightly, he had them all eating out of the palm of his hand, "after I had lunch with him, I dug up everything S.H.I.E.L.D. had on him, which isn't much, by the way. I think he changed his name."
"Wait, you had lunch with him?" Natasha asked incredulously. "You had lunch with us before you went up to accounting."
"Yeah, well, what can I say? I was helping the guy out."
"I feel like I'm missing something here," Tony shook his head. "Why don't you start from the beginning?"
"Okay," blue eyes rolled good naturedly. "Once I got up to Accounting, I saw a guy, who turned out to be Harry, and a girl arguing in the hallway. Next thing I knew, he was introducing me as his fiancé. Well, it was obvious he was desperate, and well, ya know, I'm an Avenger after all, so I can't just ignore someone in need, so naturally I played along."
"You didn't?" the redhead asked, scandalized.
"I did," he nodded. "Turns out the girl was his best friend's little sister and a bit of a stalker. Besides, what could it hurt? He said she was leaving tomorrow and if he ever sees me again, well, let's just say, he'd probably die of embarrassment."
"But that doesn't explain why he wouldn't be interested in me," the billionaire scowled.
"Well," Clint shook his head, "as I said, I think he changed his name. He mentioned that he was something of a celebrity back home, but I found nothing on a Harry Black. And unless he's related to the late Sirius Black, the former ex convict who was exonerated posthumously, I got nothing. And because of that, I just don't think he'd want the limelight that you attract."
"Whatever the case," Bruce sighed, "I think we should steer clear. We don't need to bring in someone else to our madness, especially one who obviously doesn't want to be. Besides, Fury would have our heads if he found out about any of this."
888888
Later that night, Harry sat on the couch of his small apartment just outside Washington D.C. reading while the television played quietly in the background. He looked up sharply as his wards alerted him to an incoming Floo call. With a sigh, he put his book down and looked over at the fireplace. He waved his wand, accepting the call. There were only a handful of people who had access to his Floo, and he rarely turned any of them away. He smiled as Mrs. Weasley's head appeared in the now green flames.
"Molly," he slipped off the couch so he could better speak with the redheaded woman, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this call? Everything's alright, isn't it?"
"Everything's fine," she smiled reassuringly. "I'm actually just calling to confirm a few things for next week."
"Okay," he nodded, because she couldn't have done this in the morning. "What can I help you with?"
"I just need to know when exactly you will be arriving."
"I'm not quite sure," he frowned slightly. "I know I'll be there on Wednesday, but I haven't decided on whether I'm taking a plane or going to try and acquire magical means."
"I see," a small scowl marred her features. "Well, do let me know when you decide. On that subject, will your fiancé be coming with you? We'd love to meet him, and you know he'll always be welcome here."
"I-I don't know," he said evenly, though his mind was racing a mile a minute. "I think he has to work, but I will definitely be sure to extend the invitation."
"Alright, dear," she smiled again. "Well, we'll see you soon. And we look forward to meeting this young man of yours."
Her head disappeared from the fire and the flames returned to their normal color.
Harry leaned back against the couch and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Why? Why did Ginny have to tell her mother about his foot in mouth blunder from earlier in the day? How did he end up in these situations? Why did he have to be so impulsive? God, now he had to fix this, one way or the other.
Ammie: Okay, so there it is, by popular demand... or more the muses demand... whatever. Anyway, I'm hoping that this one won't take me long to write, but it all depends on the muses. Anyway, please let me know what you think.
