Bids of A Feather: Flight Pattern
By: M14Mouse
Summary: Long ass road trip and Sam is stuck with the guy who can't sing, has horrible taste in music, and makes awful bird jokes. He had serious thoughts about leaving him to the killer robots.
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
"Man, you have horrible taste in music," Sam said as he turned down the music. Clint was sitting in the passenger seat and humming a damn Taylor Swift song.
"My taste in music is awesome," Clint said.
"Johnny Cash and I are fine but Taylor…man."
"She has some good songs."
"Huh..uh."
"You are just an old man."
"Better be an old man with taste then without."
"Would you rather I sing?"
His fingers drummed against the wheel. No, he rather not.
"Do you rather I leave you to killer robots?" He said.
"You won't do that. Nat likes me," Clint said.
"I don't know why. You have horrible taste in music that would send anyone running."
"I have other useful skills."
"Arrow guy," He said with a smirk.
"Backpack guy." Clint said back.
"Dude, does my wings really look like a backpack to you?"
"Yes…more like bird costume now that I think about it."
"Bird costume…man, you had to go there. Yours look like that you were part of a carnival or something."
"It was the circus."
"Really?"
"Really."
He glanced over to see if Clint wasn't pulling his leg. His body language seemed relax enough but Clint's eyes were hyper focus on the road. There is a history there.
"Explain a lot," He said.
"What does it explain?"
"Your horrible taste in music and clothes. Your wife must have to dress you before you go out. Nat probably dress you before missions because you probably have one outfit."
"She doesn't! My clothes are fine. She loves my clothes," Clint grumbled.
"Uh…huh."
"I thought counselors were supposed to be nice."
"Counselors aren't nice, we are polite. There is a difference. And do I look like that I'm on the clock to you?"
The jackass chuckled then they were a moment of pause.
Wait for it….One….Two…Three…
"There was a duck who walked into a store and said, "got any candy?" Clint started.
Oh…my god…he has gone to bird jokes.
"I can see that look on your face but I will press on! The storekeeper said, "No, we don't." The next day, the duck went into the same store and asked the same thing and got the same answer. The duck kept going back every day for a week and asked the same thing and kept getting the same answer until the store keeper got so angry he said, "If you come in here and ask that again, I will hit you on the head with a hammer!"
Could he have a hammer?
"The next day, the duck walks into the store and asks, "got a hammer?" The store keeper says, "no." Then the duck asks, "got any candy?"
His face broke into a small smile. Okay, that was kind of funny.
"I see a smile there! What do you call a chicken in the 1960's?"
"I have no idea."
"A funky chicken."
"Did you learn that from your kids?"
"No, the internet. This one I learned from my daughter. How did the bubble gum cross the road?"
"Man…no…."
"On the bottom of the chicken's foot!" Clint laughed.
"Apparently, she has your sense of humor."
"Probably. Anyway, what was the farmer doing on the other side of the road?"
"Probably waiting for all of the chickens."
Clint paused then gave him a look.
"You knew the answer," Clint said.
"Man, you know that I have a million cousins, nephews, and nieces. I probably know them all since there is at least one of my feed every day. Just because my codename is Falcon." He said.
"I got a bird joke book from my son on Christmas. I think Nat gave it to him."
He laughed.
"Natasha would."
Clint paused for a moment then started drumming his fingers on the dash.
One….Two…
"Are we there yet?"
"I have no clue, man. I have no idea where your house is."
"About 4 more hours give or take.
Oh, goody."
"Did I tell you the story where my daughter put glitter in Nat's hair"
He laughed.
"No. Did I ever tell you the story when we crashed at my cousin's house and one of my little cousin thought it would be awesome to draw on Steve?"
Clint's eyes light up like it was Christmas.
"Please, tell me that there are pictures."
"Of course. Do you?"
"I have three copies."
"We have four more hours, man. Best embarrassing best friend story get pictures. Better start sharing." He said.
"There was this time in Rome….," Clint said.
End of Flight Pattern
Next Chapter: Landing Pad
A/N: I regret nothing. :D