bakerstreet | Better for You

Better for You

BETTER FOR YOU

Here's the thing: in the past, you've not been a nice person. Whether you were just a little nasty, you did terrible things, you were forced to be a monster, or your heart was dark to the core, it's understandable why you weren't anyone's favorite. But those days are behind you. Now, there's someone you care for, someone you want to get closer to, someone you lov-

Well, they make you want to be a better person. This desire could have been a gradual realization, or you could have suddenly decided one day to improve. In the same vein, you may want a complete overhaul, yet you could also be more realistic and try to work on one thing. Still, you know that you're the only one who can change yourself.

How is that going? It can't be easy, as old habits die hard. Do you have a supportive loved one — or someone who wants nothing to do with you, no matter how much you improve?

Comment with your character, preferences, and the role you'd like to take on in this meme: so, changing or changed for, if you'd prefer.
Reply to others.
Thread out what you agree upon.

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[The one changing. Or, rather, encouraging the other to be better and supporting them.]

[Can be either/or. Would love a Rogers for this, but it's not necessary.]

Edited 2016-01-03 20:02 (UTC)

[Can offer this guy or a Stark if you like?]

[Personally, I think she's more likely to shoot Stark than anything. But I can definitely see her & Barton together, especially post-SHIELD.]

[Sounds good to me - Clint comes to seek her out post Winter Soldier? Just want to nail down a time line, at least in general
]

[Perfect!]

Edited 2016-01-04 03:53 (UTC)

Go to ground. SHIELD compromised. The order was brief and like hell he was going to ignore it. SHIELD had given him a home, a sense of purpose and it had given him family. Natasha and Steve had taken the fight to Hydra directly, but they weren't alone.

Clint kept to the shadows. Discreet assassinations of anyone connected to Hydra.

He couldn't stay out forever. If he did, he'd fall into all of his old patterns again. Killer for hire rather than a man fighting to do good.

So here he is. Watching Stark tower and looking for a sign of anything familiar, anything that would keep him grounded.

Looking for her.

The polygraph had been a breeze. Being able to pass one with flying colors was all part of SHIELD training. It was mostly a formality anyway. The Triskelion was still smoldering, both literally and figuratively, when Stark had called her and offered her a job. Personally. Seems that he needed a VP of Logistics. Whether or not he really did remained to be seen, but Hill wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Her position with Stark Industries would allow her to keep one foot in the game while making her out of reach of Washington politicians.

New York air had never been fresh, but Hill couldn't help breathe in a lungful anyway. Being a civilian now was a relief almost. No more Senate Committees. No more World Security Council. No more minding her Ps and Qs about misperceptions. Maybe, just maybe, she might actually try having some kind of personal life now that she wasn't three pay grades above almost everyone else.

And she knows she's being watched. She wouldn't have remained the Deputy Director of anything if her situational awareness sucked. The guy selling hot dogs, for example, had FBI written all over him. The tourists taking a selfie in front of Stark Tower? Probably NSA. Then she spots a familiar figure, and her red-tinged lips turn upwards.

Barton.

The agencies watching her were good. They were better, though. Recruited and trained by the very best. But today Clint isn't interested in dodging tails or creating enough of a distraction that they could slip away to talk privately.

No, what Barton needs is familiar so he simply falls into step beside her as she walks.

"Civilian life agrees with you. Even if you are working for a lunatic."

"Maybe between me and Potts, we can keep him from doing anything too destructive."

For the first time since they met, Hill doesn't have to think of him as an asset or remind herself that she's his handler or boss. It's weird, but in a good way.

"Speaking of said lunatic, he's planning on bankrolling the Avengers for the foreseeable future. Tech, armor, vehicles, you name it. And by "Avengers," that includes you."

"You always did like a challenge. And no way am I letting him try and R&D my bow again," a wry grin flashed from beneath his hood. Sure he wasn't as easily recognized as the other Avengers, but he didn't feel like taking chances. Today he needed to be Clint, not Hawkeye.

"Happy wouldn't speak to me for a week after the last test. Think the only thing that smoothed it over was me magnetizing some arrowheads. And the ass end of Stark's suit."

That made Hill laugh in spite of herself; something Barton was always good at doing. She chuckled softly.

"Excuse me for asking the stupidly obvious question, but what are you doing here?"

It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to see him. He had simply ambushed her. It was another of his many talents.

A smile and a laugh. His day was looking up already. Clint shoved his hands in his pockets. "Can't a guy want to surprise an old friend?" There's an odd weight to his question, bordering on hopeful.

SHIELD had been his first real home, Coulson had been his first genuine friend and handler and they had both been ripped away. So he found Maria and hoped that he wouldn't be sent away. That they really could be.. something.

It was a close call, but Hill stopped herself before she could argue that she didn't have any friends. They both knew that wasn't completely true.

"Surprising people is kind of your stock in trade, Barton." Hill couldn't resist teasing him.

There had always been something about him that had put her at ease. Almost always anyway. Being compromised by Loki was the only dark spot on that record.

"Hungry? I know a place that makes a killer bacon cheeseburger."

The tease gets a grin in response. "If I didn't you'd think something was wrong."

Bacon cheeseburgers. She always did know the fastest way to get his attention. Food. "Lead on, 'm all yours." Clint just catches himself. She's not 'boss' anymore. Just.. a friend. Just Maria and he can just be Clint.

The spring weather is warm enough to walk to the restaurant that just half-way down the block. A strange feeling of freedom washed over her like a fresh breeze. Sure, Stark created a VP of Logistics position for her as a cover, but Hill was no longer anyone's boss. She didn't have to worry about public and organizational perceptions. Who she did or did not date was no longer anyone else's business but hers. Not one single Washington DC watchdog politician had any right to question her command decisions anymore. Damn, that felt good.

"How are things on the farm?"

((ooc: quick question - should Barton be canon compliant with a family on said farm? Or should the farm just be his place?))

((can be canon-fudged w/o said family))

"The farm is good. Quiet." Not that he'd really spent that much time there of late. But those are thoughts best shoved aside as they walk, breathing in the warm spring air with a familiar face.

He slides into the booth once they're seated, finally able to tug his hood back and simply sink into being Clint rather than Hawkeye. "Stopped by there a week ago and started working on the flooring in the living room. At the rate I'm going it's gonna take at least a full season to get it done." And then on to another project. And another.

"How did you get interested in remodeling anyway?"

The 'why' she understands; it's something else to concentrate on besides missions and targets and endgames. It's a way to have control over something in a world that's more and more chaotic. Barton has his renovations, she has her rock climbing.

Clint orders a beer before considering the question. "Coulson," he says after a moment. It still isn't easy to think about his handler, his mentor and friend who had fallen in battle. "We had to hide out at the farm for a week when an op went to hell."

"Bullet wound freshly patched up and he started talking carpentry. How to fix the squeaky stair." A distant smile. "And once I started, there was no going back."

"What got you started with scaling rocks?"

It flat-out sucks that she can't tell Barton that Coulson's alive and well and running SHIELD 2.0. Yes, the research on Project TAHITI is probably out there along with the rest of the info dump that Romanoff did, but mentions of Coulson had been carefully scrubbed.

"Marine Corps Mountain Warrior Training," she replies to his question. "Learned a lot of useful stuff there: how to drive a Hum Vee through five feet of snow without getting stuck, how to strap a two-by-four to each foot and slide down a mountain without hitting a tree and, my personal favorite, how to literally pack an ass."

The last is said with a very wry smirk. While most of SHIELD would've sworn Hill had zero sense of humor, Barton is probably at the top of the short list of those who know otherwise.

It's probably best for all involved that he doesn't know. The only time Barton bothers to scan intel reports is when he has a job to do. Poring over old reports has never exactly been his style.

He snorts a laugh into his beer, some of the tension sliding from his shoulders as he winks at her. "Lucky beast." Anyone who discounted her as a robot, an automaton only bent on following every order from Fury had clearly missed out. Brilliant, a complete challenge to spar with, and a sense of humor that always slipped out at the right moment, she was a hell of a lot more than just the former Assistant Director of SHIELD.

"All skills I'm pretty sure will come in handy working for Stark."

"Potts will probably have to keep me from sending that ass packing."

Not that Stark's all that bad. He has his moments. The problem is that he likes to flaunt his moments every chance he gets.

It's nice for Hill to be able to let go of some of the barriers she'd held on to for so long, too long. She had always suspected that some kind of attraction going on, but she'd never been able to act on it.

"So, what are your plans now that SHIELD has bit the dust?"

Stark has his moments. All the charm of a wayward child of four with the backing of a ridiculous level intelligence and a sense of bravado that was probably double that. Not really a job he envied.

"She's a hell of a diplomat, but working for someone like Stark this long she probably has to be," he allows, giving himself a moment to mull over the question. SHIELD had been his home longer than anything else - longer than home, the orphanage and a hell of a lot safer than his run with the circus.

"Dunno," he offers with a faint roll of his shoulder. "Ronin's been out, picking off Hydra contacts." Damn few knew about his assassin handle outside of Coulson and Fury and Hill. "Keeping busy that way."

There had always been an attraction there and this time, maybe he could act on it without worrying that he'd get put on his ass or sent to HR for inappropriate comments in the workplace.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Hill replies with a sip of her own beer. "Just like I didn't mention anything about a strict do not engage order on a Hydra asset with a metal left arm. He's Rogers' target."

The fact that Hydra had experimented on POWs hadn't surprised her. The fact they'd succeeded in creating a super soldier hadn't been a surprise either. But to hear that Sgt James Buchanan Barnes had survived the thousand-foot drop from the train had. And she knew that very little would stop Rogers from finding his friend.

For a moment something impossibly bitter crosses his features. "When SHIELD fell it took the only home I had. The only place where I fit. Where I mattered." If he has to become Ronin again to cope with that loss, so be it.

"Yeah. Tasha filled me in on what happened. Keeping the holy hell away from that mess."

Unless he gets called in of course. If Rogers needs him, he'll be there.

"It was my home, too, and I backed Rogers on taking it down." Her tone softened and she absently picked at the label on the bottle. "It was my responsibility, and I failed. Assets I personally cleared for duty were as dirty as anyone could get. I don't know how or if I can trust myself again after that."

There's more she's not saying. She feels lost without some kind of command structure or chain of command. Being a civilian means that no one has to follow her orders without question. If it hadn't been for Potts, and to a certain extent Stark, Hill probably would've gone off the rails by now.

They're both lost. Adrift. Whatever you wanted to call it, he recognized the tone in her voice, absently reaching to cover her hand with his. "You didn't know. None of us did. Agents I trained were just as damn dirty."

And without Coulson, without some familiar voice in his ear to keep him grounded, it was getting harder and harder to stay on the right side of things.

"There has to be something. Something we can do to set things right."

For once, Hill doesn't jerk back from being touched. She normally hates having someone invade her personal space. More often than not it usually ends up with someone bleeding if not deceased. But Barton's different.

"That's why I want you to come work with me. Like I said. Stark is bankrolling the Avengers now. Just the Avengers. There is no SHIELD, no red tape, no Senate Oversight Committee for Terminal Stupidity. We run our own ops. Design our own tech. And if you're serious about needing a home, there's an apartment in the Tower with your name on it."

A place where he belonged again. Clint's fingers curl around hers gently, more than aware that anyone else back in their days in SHIELD would have had their hands broken for daring to reach out to her.

But.. he'd always been one to push the envelope. And for all his rash insubordination over the years, she'd never once put him through the wall.

"Me. Working a typical Jake job," he smiles distantly."Heck of a change from the old days." Maybe he could make this work though, find some way to not screw this up. "Okay. Okay, then I guess I'm in."

Surprisingly enough, her fingers gently squeeze his in return. It's weird for her to be shown any kind of physical affection. Good, but weird. Maybe that could explain the tingle of attraction that zinged up her arm.

"Since when is working with the Avengers a typical job?" she snorted. "Hell, I don't think any of us have actually worked a normal eight-to-five a day in our lives."

That's part of why she'd agreed to Stark's job offer. There's no such thing as a typical day at the office. With the Avengers, something always goes sideways. It keeps her on her toes which is exactly how she likes it.

Barton was the touchy one on the team. Coulson insisted it was because he was part cat, and so far few had found a good reason to argue with it. Given any situation he would drape himself on, over or around damn near anyone. Maybe it was his crap childhood or the circus, but the warmth and the contact was grounding. It helped keep him centered.

The return squeeze was surprising and his smile became something warm and open. Genuine.

A startled laugh as he nods. "Eight-to-five is for suckers. Why do that when you can have a few twenty hour shifts in a row?" But that's what he'd liked, what he needed. It didn't matter if it seemed unstable to others, it was that sense of things always shifting that kept him together.

"All right. But for the record, I'm not wearing a suit."

Barton wasn't the only one with a suck ass childhood. Hill had grown up with a barely functioning alcoholic father who blamed her for her mother's death after childbirth. The only time he ever touched her was to hurt her.

But Barton wasn't her father, and she wasn't ten years old.

"Maybe not a wool blend made by Gucci," Hill smirked. "But I'm sure there'll be other options."

Maybe there was something about SHIELD that drew in dysfunction, something about the offer of shelter and purpose. But it wasn't something Clint liked to overthink particularly now that it was gone.

It was much easier to focus on the warm hand in his, and on the rather surprising fact that Maria hadn't knocked his ass into the middle of next week for daring to reach out.

"If Stark takes me shopping I reserve the right to bolt," he bargains with a crooked smile.

[ Brand spanking new and voice testing ]

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Better for You

Aran Foley | OC | M/M

Maria Hill :: MCU :: f/m

Re: Maria Hill :: MCU :: f/m

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Finn | Star Wars: TFA | ota

Seth Gecko | From Dusk Till Dawn | M/F