A to X
Chapter Twenty-one - Alcoholic X-tremes
It took little effort for Flint to launch himself into his old circus routine. He only hesitated for a moment and that was to enjoy the wonderful feeling of holding a bow in his hands once again. There was something comforting about having its firm weight in his grasp, using his strength to retract the taught string and adjusting to the familiar lopsidedness of a quiver. Soon he was vaulting around the tent and pulling off every stunt he'd learned from Trickshot all those years ago. Despite his lack of practice, he never wavered and landed every arrow.
The crowd plus a very excited Nightcrawler cheered loudly at the conclusion of the act and despite knowing the arena and its inhabitants were merely holographic, the archer couldn't help but soak up the attention. After years of being in the spotlight (whether it was as a performer, assassin or Avenger) it was hard for the man keep hidden within the X-mansion, despite the necessity of doing so. He missed the adoration he'd gotten used to.
Nightcrawler came over, clapped Flint on the back and thanked him for a spectacular show. The ex-Avenger in turn complimented the furry blue mutant on the rest of the performances and they cordially left the room together, while continuing to be members of the mutual admiration society.
The following six days passed by in a blur of French and German classes, Danger Room exercises, language study sessions with Петр and the most horribly gruelling morning workouts he'd ever experienced, courtesy of the vengeful Wolverine. If the sadistic mutant kept this up, Flint would probably end up even more ripped than Thor; something he previously thought to be an impossible feat for a mere (non-Super-Soldier-Serum-ed) human.
It was after one such workout that Flint got the absolute shit scared right out of him. He'd just showered and was about to flop down onto his bed (clad only in a towel) to find it already occupied by the Black Widow. "Holy shit fuck!" was his not so eloquent response to the unexpected presence.
Tasha chuckled evilly from her reclined position. "Hello, Clint. What a... quaint place you have here. It's very... cosy."
"It's not the size that counts, it's how you use it," countered the archer automatically as he moved to his wardrobe. He extracted an outfit and started to don it. It's not like Tasha hadn't seen him naked before. On various SHIELD missions, quick changes were often necessary and those who possessed modesty outgrew it rather quickly. As he was changing, he sent Xavier a psychic message informing him of the Black Widow's abrupt appearance.
Natasha silently eyed Flint as he dressed and was just about to speak when a soft knock sounded on the door. She raised an eyebrow at him and he blinked twice, soundlessly letting her know she was safe to remain in the open. The assassin sat up and quickly moved to the end of the bed anyway, just as a precaution.
Like the archer had assumed, Xavier was patiently waiting on the other side of the door and he swiftly wheeled into the room as if he hadn't a care in the world. Flint couldn't help but admire the man's ability to remain unflappable. It was similar to how Coulson acted under pressure, yet it didn't annoy him like his former lov... er, handler used to.
Xavier let a warm smile grace his face, undeterred by the wary (if not outright hostile) look the woman shot him. "Greetings. My name is Charles Xavier. Welcome to the X-mansion, Ms Romanoff."
The Black Widow eyed him steadily for a few moments before eventually replying, "Are you in the habit of probing the minds of others?"
Xavier looked completely baffled by the statement and Flint awkwardly cleared his throat.
"A-actually," the ex-Avenger eventually stuttered out, "I screwed up and kind of let your name slip. Sorry!" The archer had to quickly dodge a kick aimed at his manhood as the redhead leapt acrobatically from her perch on the bed. He earned himself three quick strikes to the head for his slight. "Tasha!" he whined as he rubbed his head.
Natasha's eyes flicked between Xavier and Flint several times at a rapid pace. A thoughtful look was quickly replaced with a somewhat astonished one. Of course, no matter the situation, she's never been completely surprised but this was the closest Flint had ever seen her to it. He should throw a party to commemorate the event.
"You trust him that much?" the superspy asked. "Already?"
Flint gave her a little grin. "Yeah, I do."
"Then I shall do the same but if for some reason this goes like our little mission in Cebu..." she let the threat die out, knowing that Flint would fill in the blanks satisfactorily. She turned her attention to a somewhat amused Xavier and adopted a ready stance. "Natasha Romanoff, codename: Black Widow. Former agent of SHIELD."
"You're not going back?" asked Flint with surprise.
The redhead chuckled lowly. "There were only six people I trusted completely. Captain America, Falcon, yourself, Black Panther, Logan and Philip Coulson. My list is now down to four and as much as I like Sam, let's just say that until I don't feel like stabbing the other two in the head whenever I see them, I'll keep my distance." Her grin turned slightly feral at that and for a moment, she reminded Flint of Wolverine. It was a frightening comparison.
"Are you sure that's a wise course of action? Sir is really hoping that you will return to the Aven..." JARVIS started to say from his position suspended on the back of the doom.
"You are not welcome in this conversation," growled Flint with a dark look at his man-bag. Apparently (according to Natasha) he missed seeing Xavier start in surprise at the unexpected artificial intelligence's voice because his vicious gaze was far too intensely focussed on JARVIS.
"I always thought you and Stark's pet project were on good terms," commented Tasha. She seemed reluctantly amused.
Flint's scowl at the artificial intelligence deepened. "That was until yesterday, when I questioned him about how Tony knew I had broken back into the Tower. The little sneak admitted that he'd been updating Tony daily about my activities. He's just lucky that he kept my reasons for being here and my location from his master or I'd already be looking into ways of inflicting crippling pain onto an artificial intelligence."
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Of course JARVIS was. He's Stark's everything. I don't see why you're surprised."
Transferring his glare from the man-bag to Tasha, Flint all but barked, "Well we can't all be as distrustful as you!"
After unapologetically shrugging, the Black Widow merely stated, "That's how I've managed to stay alive."
The clearing of a throat brought the two ex-SHIELD agents' attention to the handicapped man they had both almost forgotten was sitting calmly in the room. Their SHIELD training had always impressed the importance of being fully aware of your surroundings but both assassins had mentally filed the man as non-threatening. "I have no real wish to intrude on your... reunion. I was just wondering if you might be staying for a little while, so I can get a room prepared for you in the meantime," said the man with poorly concealed amusement.
Natasha opened her mouth but Flint spoke up before she could say anything. "Of course she'll be staying..." He was swiftly interrupted.
"I'll be doing nothing of the sort!" dismissively snorted the woman with contempt.
Flint rolled his eyes. "You have no superiors and no one to report to. No job, mission or anything. How often do spies like us get a chance to have a holiday? So shut up and stay for a couple of days."
Natasha looked like she was going to argue so Flint played his trump card.
"I'll buy some vodka and watch you try to drink Wolverine under the table. He's got an outrageous healing factor. It's been far too long since you faced a worthy challenge like that." Flint smirked, knowing he'd already won with just a small glance at his friend's intrigued look.
A smiling (which Flint found to be an odd sight to see) Natasha gracefully accepted the man's offer of refuge and was informed that the room opposite Flint's was to be hers for as long as she deemed necessary.
Xavier turned to wheel toward the door. He extended his arm to reach the handle but stilled and swivelled around. "Before I go, there's something you should know. The psychics within the X-men do not believe in scanning someone's mind without explicit permission. We will never read or tamper with your head. It was something Flint himself was rather wary about at first. If you ask him, I'm sure he can tell you all about it." Without waiting for a response, the mutant wheeled from the room.
The silence left in the bald man's wake was broken by Natasha. "Is he telling the truth?"
Flint nodded. "Yeah. They're pretty good about it all. In fact, I've been receiving training from the man himself in how to shield my mind from external forces. It's been invaluable. I even managed to repel a seasoned telepath last week." He shot his friend a toothy grin as he remembered Emma Frost rolling around her own bubble shield, under the feet of an elephant.
"That sounds useful," noted the Black Widow with interest.
Flint smiled, "I'm sure Uncle Charlie will have no problems teaching you too, if you'd like."
"And who, pray tell, is this Uncle Charlie character?" the superspy asked blandly.
His grin widening, Flint filled her in about his new cover as Flint Robertson and the friendships he'd started making; real honest-to-God friendships. It was something he never really thought he'd have considering his life so far but over the course of his stay in the mansion, he could safely say that Xavier, Jubilee, Jean, and Monet were definitely his friends. Петр too but he was hoping that would evolve into something more. He was in the middle of an anecdote about his French class when he cut himself off at the sound of Xavier's psychic voice.
I'm sorry Flint but Wolverine has already picked up on your guest's scent. He's headed your way right now in a less-than-pleased manner.
Flint thought Cool, thanks for the heads up! before turning his attention back to the visibly puzzled Natasha.
"Okay, so Wolverine's on his way. He smelled you somehow and the Professor wanted to warn us," summarised Flint quickly.
Besides a blink, Natasha took the news that her friend had obviously become rather fluent at psychic communication and that one of the most vicious mutants on the planet was headed her way very placidly. She unconcernedly folded her arms and waited for the man to appear.
The door was slammed open without preamble and the feral mutant stood within the now empty doorframe. His six blades were extended and he launched himself at the woman.
The Black Widow cartwheeled to her left and landed in a crouch, narrowly avoiding three blades which sliced barely an inch above her head. She landed a painful looking uppercut to Wolverine's jaw, grabbed him by the hair and kneed him in the head in one swift motion.
Wolverine snarled and blindly slashed his blades forward but having let her hands move down from his hair to his shoulders, Natasha used them as a balancing point as she jumped and held herself momentarily in a plank over the swipes. She then used her now downward momentum to her advantage and placed her legs on his upper thighs before flipping the mutant upside-down into a wall. Flint blanched in sympathy, his friend was bound to bruise spectacularly on her lower back from taking the brunt of that fall, especially considering the mutant had adamantium-laced bones and weighed substantially more than a regular person. Of course, he was well-aware that after her time in the Red Room, the Black Widow had a slightly weaker variant of the Captain America serum in her system and would recover rather quickly nonetheless, the lucky bitch.
When Wolverine hauled himself back to his feet, he smirked broadly at the woman. "Ya certainly haven't lost your touch, Midge."
Natasha smirked at the feral mutant and airily replied, "Well, your performance left a lot to be desired. As expected."
Since it was clear that the two were rather well acquainted (because Natasha didn't kill the mutant for using what was clearly a nickname) Flint sat back and watched their reunion. Apparently, the two had gone on a couple of missions together for Fury over the past few years. While they caught up with each other, Flint thought about the strange nickname and worked out that since a midge was another word for a gnat, the mutant must know her actual name Nat already. He was drawn out of his thoughts when she called the other Logan and he couldn't help but squeak.
"Just wait a goddam minute here," Flint all but yelled in surprise, drawing the attention of the other two occupants of the room. "This, this, this damn slave driver is the Logan that you trust?" he eventually stuttered out. He couldn't believe that the sadistic bastard was one of only four people that his suspicious friend fully trusted. Natasha simply raised an eyebrow in response as Wolverine delightedly smirked.
Logan flicked his eyes back to Tasha. "So Midge, since I know you're the genuine Widow, is this really that damn asshole who's speared me three times?" Tasha simply smiled and nodded as she enjoyed watching Flint squirm on the spot.
"I have no doubt that you've been punishing him for that already but he has made an interesting proposition involving the both of us..." started the superspy.
Wolverine snorted and interrupted with, "As great as we'd be, I ain't interested in another romp."
Tasha eyed the man steadily as Flint started to choke on the spot. "Y-you and HIM?" he all but shrieked at his friend.
Eyes hardening, the superspy quietly pointed out, "I'm certain he could say the same thing to you."
"WE AGREED NEVER TO SPEAK OF THAT AGAIN!" roared Flint to Tasha's sadistic amusement and Logan's surprise. His cheeks pinked in both anger and embarrassment.
There was a brief silence that Wolverine was more than happy to shatter with a feral sneer. "Ya slept with that chump? I never thought you'd be that desperate, Midge."
Despite his rage and shame, Flint couldn't help but feel rather offended. Why the hell wouldn't she want to screw him? It's not like he was ugly or anything. In fact, he surely had to be a better lay than Wolverine of all people. Of course, there was no way he would ever verbalise these thoughts because one, he'd prefer to pretend that Tasha had slept with neither of them and two, the superspy would have no qualms about telling him (in graphic detail) who was better in bed and why. It was a conversation he definitely didn't want to hear or participate in.
"It involved an evening full of excellent Vodka, which funnily enough is exactly what the original proposition was all about; a drinking contest. It's been years and I feel the need to best you once more." Tasha's smile could be mistaken as friendly but the other two men both knew better; it was nothing short of shark-like.
Logan smirked in return before saying, "We'll need provisions and players."
"Clint has already volunteered his bank account for the entertainment and will be needed as the referee," noted the Black Widow. "So I'll leave you to select the other participants at your leisure."
Wolverine nodded and turned to Flint. "Yer gonna need a lotta booze for this circus but I'm sure Fury paid ya well. If not, hit yer buddy Stark up for a loan. Don't skimp on the Vodka and get some decent beer and cigars while yer at it." When the ex-Avenger merely nodded, he added, "Well, hop to it, Cupid. We're gonna be startin' at noon. You better be in the den, ready to go or I'll make you regret it."
Flint muttered some rather unflattering curses under his breath, knowing full well that Logan could hear them all before he claimed his car keys from his bedside table. As he was driving to the nearest liquor store, he couldn't help but marvel at how spectacularly crazy today had already been and it was barely ten in the morning!
The archer conscripted Jean's help (who also happened to be in the garage) to telekinetically carry several cartons of vodka, beer and scotch from his car so he wouldn't have to make six trips. Who knew how many other healing-factored people would be at this damn event? He certainly wasn't going to take the chance of running out of booze and suffering even more each morning from the feral mutant's displeasure. The telepath had been surprised at the amount of provisions but was more than happy to help out anyway, as long as she was invited to attend the festivities, that is.
Despite his initial misgivings, Flint was starting to look forward to the unexpected event but wisely decided to stock up on food at lunch beforehand. There was no way he was going to succumb to the alcohol first; he'd never hear the end of it and he had a strong suspicion that Logan would try anything to make it come to pass. So not happening.
Midday rolled around and the reason for Jean's presence in the garage became apparent. Flint couldn't help but stare at Tasha. The notorious Black Widow was looking anything but lethal in a short maroon top and a pair of jeans. Xavier must have sent her on another shopping trip. He'd never seen her look quite so casual before but then again, she was always dressed for combat at SHIELD headquarters and Avenger's Tower since a world-threatening crisis could occur at any time. As she was now a free agent, she could actually relax for once. It still struck him as strange though.
Since they were the only two in the den so far (word had already gone around the mansion that Wolverine had declared the room off limits for anyone that would like to keep their hands attached to their bodies) they spent the time discussing the superspy's cover. She decided that the easiest course of action was to use her name, since no one else could connect it to the Black Widow. Her story was simply that she was visiting Flint for a short holiday.
Soon the room filled up. Wolverine was first to arrive and somehow managed to simultaneously light his cigar and chug down a beer within the first ten seconds. He plonked himself down at the head of the den's poker table and started shuffling the cards absently. Tasha brought a bottle of Vodka to the table and forced Flint to collect a tray full of shot glasses. She slid easily into the seat to the feral mutant's right. There was no way that the archer was going to sit next to a guy that would cheerfully disembowel him and headed to the free seat beside his best friend.
Jean entered next and cheerfully dragged a sour-looking Summers behind her. She sent him over to bring her a beer before she started to telekinetically sort the poker chips into eight even piles. When he spotted Natasha, his hand went automatically to his visor but his girlfriend rolled her eyes and snorted, "Do you honestly think Logan would have let someone he didn't know well sit next to him?"
"B-but," stuttered Scott before he whispered, "she's a redhead and you know that's his type."
Wolverine just snorted with amusement, having heard the comment anyway. "I've already played that game with Midge here. It was a onetime deal." He looked toward Tasha and added, "That's Slim and Red."
Jean rolled her eyes again. "Oh, for the love of God. I'm Jean and this is my boyfriend Scott. Never let Logan introduce anyone unless you really don't want to know their actual names." She sat down beside Logan and was soon joined by Cyclops. "Oh, and the silver haired lady is Ororo and the blue one is Kurt," the woman added as the two mutants entered the room. They both smiled and joined the rapidly filling table.
Flint took the opportunity to introduce his friend to the others and noticed Jean's piercing look. It seemed that she too remembered the Black Widow's name when he let it slip. Obviously Tasha noticed as well and Flint was once again smacked over the head.
"Hey!" yelled an angry voice from the doorway. "Leave Biceps alone, okay? What the hell did he ever do to... YOU!" Jubilee squealed as she plopped into the last chair at the table, right next to Flint. "Oh my!" she breathed airily as she all but sighed aloud. Flint realised that she must have recognised the woman from the photograph he'd shown her. Tasha was going to kill him before the end of the evening for having a mouth looser than a Red-Light District hooker. He groaned and let his head fall heavily upon the table with a loud thunk. Naturally Jubes took the opportunity while he was distracted to fondle an arm but meeped when she noticed Tasha's fierce gaze. Without moving from the table, Flint introduced the two forlornly. This was rapidly devolving into one of the most painful moments of his life.
Wolverine took charge of the table and not so politely informed the party that they were in for five stud poker. The rules were simple; to be dealt in, they needed to down a shot of Vodka otherwise they could buy in with $100 (of chips). Therefore, those not faring well would have no option but to drink. Also, as there were eight players, if the deck ran out of cards during a hand, too bad for the remaining players. They just had to suck it up and tough it out.
The players all verbally agreed to the rules (Flint and funnily enough, Summers only reluctantly so) before Logan started to deal the first hand. Jubes reached for her cards almost immediately but froze at Wolverine's growl. "Drink first, Kid, or I'll slice your hand off." Jubilee rolled her eyes but complied with the request and placed her empty shot glass in the middle of the table with everyone else's. Logan smirked. "Looks like no one wants to skimp on the first round. I'm surprised," he noted with a pointed glance at Flint.
Naturally, the archer couldn't help but bristle at the comment but turned his attention to his hand. It was a pair of threes. He wouldn't be last but winning was doubtful. Bluffing was an option but seriously, when the feral mutant can literally smell fear and one of the others was a telepath, it seemed like a losing strategy right there. He threw the rest away and his replacement cards were no improvement. Ororo ended up winning the first round with a queen high flush of spades.
They quickly settled down into a rhythm and everyone managed to win a few hands each. Only Tasha and Logan had a few successive victories and their chips were starting to multiply. Scott was the first to buy his way out of a shot and was ribbed by the whole table good-naturedly for a while but the first to lose all his chips was Kurt. The blue mutant went all in but his full house of aces over nines was defeated by Jubes' four of a kind. He staggered awkwardly to his feet (Flint noticed his tail was for once not animated like usual but hanging limply behind him) and drunkenly excused himself.
Jean was the next to lose out, quickly followed by Ororo. The two women stayed to watch on but were quickly ejected by an angry Wolverine after they both succumbed to giggling fits. By this stage, Flint was starting to buy his way out of a few rounds because his head was beginning to pound. Beam Me Up, Scotty (as Jubes had taken to calling him throughout the evening) was also buying out of shots but his luck ran out. He went all in and lost it to the firecracker.
Flint couldn't help but be impressed with Jubilee. She had somehow started to dominate the game. Both Tasha and Logan were looking a lot worse for wear now as neither had bought out of a shot and despite their respective healing factors, there was only so much their systems could process. He caught his best friend as she passed out while trying to shuffle and Logan cheered, "Ah win, Madgy. Suck un that!" before he fell off his chair and started snoring on the floor. Jubilee shot the man an exasperated but fond look.
"I'm gonna take Tashie to'a room. I'll catchya tomorrow, Jubesie," Flint slurred to the other and bid her goodnight. Now, he just hoped he'd be able to negotiate stairs in his current state.