bakerstreet | that awkward meme;

that awkward meme;

THAT AWKWARD MEME WHEN
Congratulations, your character's shame is now a spectator sport.

RULES:
o1. Post your character ( name | series | any preferences ).
o2. Characters tagging in: ~~Pick~~ roll for a prompt.
o3. The character setting up the scene can be either the cause, or the unfortunate witness to the awkward situation. Have fun!

That awkward moment when...

o1. You're trying to slink away with your partner’s valuables after a one night stand only to wake them up in the process.
o2. You send a message with your confession, raaage, embarrassing questions or compromising pictures to the wrong person.
o3. You forgot about a birthday or anniversary and now have to pitch a cheap gift bought in five minutes off the nearest 7/11 as a symbolic expression of your feelings.
o4. You lost your wallet and have to charm a perfect stranger into paying your tab.
o5. You spill your wine on the event special guest half an hour before they're due giving their speech.
o6. You need to get rid of your date/groupie/coworker to assume your superhero identity and go save the day in the nearby building.
o7. You can’t stop hiccuping during someone's heartfelt confession of undying affection.
o8. You kidnapped the wrong person.
o9. You have to get your very drunk friend out of a public place fast, and they're not exactly cooperating.
10. You blame grave illness to cancel on meeting someone, only to run into them an hour later.
11. You slip ~~on a banana peel~~ in the middle of your amazing performance or even more amazing shounen attack.
12. You get matched on a blind date with someone who dumped you. Twice.
13. You call out the wrong name when things get hot and heavy.
14. You have to prod this person whether they like-like your friend without outright saying it, because said friend is apparently ~~five~~ too shy to ask on their own.
15. You run into someone after choosing your clothing or doing your make up during a blackout.
16. You have to ask a favour of someone you publicly lambasted twenty minutes ago.
17. You wake up to find someone's been watching you sleep.
18. You answer the door in your lingerie to surprise your special other, only to find it’s not them calling.
19. You try the polite greeting your friends taught you in a different language, only to find out it’s actually a grave insult or a hilarious proposal.
20. You accidentally walk into someone showering, singing aloud, enjoying their personal time or anything else you feel like putting together.

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Crossing her arms over her chest, Natasha raised an eyebrow when Clint attempted to argue with her. She could have argued back, but instead she waited until he came to the same conclusion all on his own.

This was not the right guy.

“It was a high class party, it wasn’t going to be the only handkerchief in the room, that was why it was a good method of marking someone. Effective yet not terribly conspicuous,” she explained like one would to a child they were annoyed at. It should have been effective.

Clint turns towards her, leveling a frustrated look at her in return. "Only effective if it is a distinctive mark."

He realizes that bickering isn't going to get them anywhere. Natasha's already blown her cover and even if she could get back into the party, there's no guarantee that the mark is still there. Not to mention that they have to find someway of getting rid of this guy.

He turns towards their prisoner. "Who are you?"

Natasha’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “The item itself was not meant to be distinctive, it was the colour you were supposed to be paying attention to.” Snatching the green handkerchief from Clint’s hand, she held it up between them. “Does this look turquoise to you?”

Recrossing her arms, she turned her attention to their hostage as Clint decided to interrogate him anyway. Well, they at least had to know who he was before they could decide how to handle this.

“Who am I?” the man repeated, incredulously. “Who are you? You kidnapped me!”

“We are well aware of that, as you should be well aware that you are hardly in the position to be asking the questions,” Natasha spoke evenly, eyes burrowing into his.

"Turquoise is green!" Isn't it? He was pretty sure it was in the green family somewhere and to be fair, in the lighting of the venue the color had looked a little darker. This was what they got for rushing a job that should've had clear surveillance photos. Which he would be the first to tell Coulson, you know, during the inevitable inquisition that would come after a botched mission of this magnitude.

"I'd listen to her," Clint said, leaning against a chair and regarding the man in front of him. "You don't want to make her mad."

"My people will kill you for this."

Clint sighed heavily. "And your people are?"

Natasha rolled her eyes and decided not to even bother continuing their little argument. They had much more important things to be focusing on.

“My people are rich and powerful,” the man replied snottily. Well, that was an original answer.

“You’re not giving us much reason to let you out of here alive,” Natasha pointed out very matter-of-factly. “You were not our true target and are now just wasting our time.” She turned toward Clint. “I think we should just kill him and be done with it.” Maybe that would loosen his tongue.

Clint didn't smile, though his eyes did get a little brighter as he looked back at her. He kind of loved playing bad cop to Natasha's homicidal cop.

"I told you that you didn't want to make her mad," he said, looking back at the not-mark. "She's right though. It would be easy enough to off you and get back to business, unless you've got a really good reason why we shouldn't."

"My people..."

Clint barely appeared to move before the not-mark found an arrow pointed at his head. "No gunshot, means no one comes running." He smiles. "Then again, she's got a silencer." He looked back at Natasha. "Who's turn is it?"

Natasha was quick but even she had barely seen Clint draw his weapon until he had it pointed at their captive’s head.

“As much as an arrow through his eye might drastically improve his looks, I do believe it’s my turn,” she replied. She didn’t have her weapon on her, she couldn’t have taken it into the party, but she knew Clint had her back.

Adjusting the slit in the skirt of her dress so she could crouch down, she pulled a gun from the bag that sat between their feet, taking her time to check that it was loaded and that the silencer was firmly attached.

“B-but... my people -” the man stammered, showing the first sign of fear.

“Your people,” Natasha scoffed, promptly cutting him off. “I am beginning to doubt that these people even exist.” She had turned her attention to Clint now, clearly playing a role. “Do you think anyone will really miss this sniveling coward who believes he’s so important?”

"Nope," Clint said easily, lowering his weapon and relaxing against the chair.

"You kill me and you will have to deal with the wrath of the Ten Rings," the man spat out quickly. "They will not stop until they've torn you apart limb from limb and then they've done the same to your family!"

Clint forced a small laugh, though his eyes said something else completely when they met Natasha's. "What would the Ten Rings want with someone like you?"

"I give them money and they give me protection."

Clint got to his feet. "Yeah, well, it seems like they've fallen asleep on the job."

"Release me and your death will be quick."

Natasha caught the look Clint threw in her direction, their eyes carrying on a silent conversation that nobody else could ever understand. The Ten Rings. Maybe they had messed up this mission royally, but perhaps it could still be salvaged as something else.

“And if we don’t release you?” she asked, slowly straightening back up, gun in hand. “If all they want is your money I can’t see them looking to avenge you if you’re not around to pay them for it. Try again.” 

"Yeah, I still don't buy it," Clint said, shaking his head. "Why would they care about you?"

"You think I'm going to tell you? You're already dead."

Clint huffed, rubbing at his eyebrow. "Then you got nothing to lose, do you?" He looked back at Tasha. "I think you've got delusions of grandeur my friend. Ten Rings have been taking your lunch money and telling you they'll protect you, and yet here you are."

"I have something they need." The man was sweating now, looking between the two of them. "They need me."

Natasha clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Your story keeps changing. If you have something so important and they need you then why weren’t they protecting you at the party?” she asked, inspecting her gun a moment as if bored. “On top of that, why didn’t you say that in the first place? It sounds like a much better reason that you simply paying them.”

Holding the gun in one hand and letting it dangle at her side, she rested her other on Clint’s shoulder and leaned against him. Those damn heels she was wearing were killing her feet, and it was getting more tempting to just kill this man and get it over with, but the Ten Rings connection was certainly an intriguing one. He could prove useful yet.

"No one bothers the Ten Rings! It's suicide," he man said, his desperation growing with each minute. Clint squared his shoulders to give Natasha more support as she leaned against him. How she managed to work in those heels was beyond him.

He looked over at Tasha, furrowing his brow. "You feeling suicidal? 'Cause me? I feel fine."

The chances that the mark was stalling so that the Ten Rings, if that story was even true, would have more time to track him down was a real possibility. Clint had already checked him for tracking devices, but they hadn't gone that far from the site of the abduction. It wouldn't take long to find him and they were running out of time.

"Tell you what," Clint said, nodding at the gun in Natasha's head. "You let me get this one and I'll let you get the next two. He's getting on my nerves."

Natasha merely shrugged at Clint’s question, appearing more bored than suicidal. The man was getting desperate, it wouldn’t take much more for him to crack. The sooner the better.

Pouting at Clint a minute later, she looked down at the gun in her hand and heaved a sigh. “Just bad luck,” she said, as if encompassing the whole situation, the very fact that this man was here at all. It was actually the truth, but for them as well. While they might be able to salvage something by getting information on the Ten Rings, their original mission was a complete bust. “My way is quicker. Less painful.”

Turning her back on them, she walked away.

Inwardly Clint knew that he's pretty much blown the mission, but if they could get some intel from this guy that was actually useful maybe Fury wouldn't hang them out to dry. Because Natasha was definitely going to get some of the heat, even though it'd been his mistake.

"The more annoying, the more painful it's got to be," Clint said, gathering his bow and selecting an arrow. "Them's the rules."

"You can't," the man said. "You wouldn't."

Clint raised his bow and took aim, pointing it at the man's chest.

"No, stop," he man begged. "I can't tell you."

Clint let the arrow fly, hitting the man in the left shoulder and pinning him to the wall. The man screamed in pain as Clint moved forward and yanked on the arrow to try to get it out of the wall and his shoulder.

"It's a box. I'm the only one who knows the code!" The man said as Clint tugged. "I slipped out of the crowd, I was hoping..." Clint gave a hard yank and the man yelled again in pain. "To escape!"

Natasha stayed out of sight while Clint dealt with their little problem. Yes, “their” problem, because although this had been Clint’s screw up they were still partners; if one of them failed they both failed, that was how they worked.

Checking windows, listening at doors, she made sure they still had time, that there was nobody coming for him yet. She couldn’t see what Clint was doing but she could hear every word, every scream, and the arrow striking wood through flesh that had become as recognizable over the years as the sound of a gunshot.

Their victim’s confession made her stop her movements. To escape? For someone who claimed to be under protection, why would he need to escape?

"Escape from what?" Clint asked as he freed the arrow and the man yelled in pain again.

"I'm not a fool! I know they plan on killing me once I tell them how to get the code. The only reason I'm here at all is to prove to the buyers that I'm real."

Clint's eyes narrowed. "What buyers?"

"Isn't that why you're here?" The man blinked. "You don't know about the box?"

"You're annoying me again."

The man rushed on. "The box can decode any code imaginable. It would lay the world's secrets out before anyone who has it."

"And you're the only person with the key to unlock the decoder ring?"

"Yes! I can help you get it. If you let me go, I will help you. Please!"

Clint eyed the man for a moment before turning and walking away. He slipped through the open doorway, only to find Natasha listening. He lowered his voice.

"Do buy it?"

Everything the man said contradicted something he had said previously, but the more afraid he got the more inclined Natasha was to believe him. Still, it was a pretty incredible idea.

Looking up when Clint approached, her brows furrowed in thought.

“I’m not sure. If something like that exists, I find it hard to believe we wouldn’t already know about it,” she said, though her tone was still unsure. “But it would explain why the Ten Rings would want anything to do with someone like that.”

She thought about it a moment, running over different scenarios in her head.

“If we let him go he’ll run, but I can go in with him, to meet these buyers. They will likely take the code and leave hired guns to finish him. I’ll get him out a alive, you follow the buyers. Call in backup. We’ll get the box and the codes.” She met Clint’s eyes again, reading his reaction to the proposed plan.

Clint nodded slightly as she set into the plan, listening carefully and thinking the information over. He glanced over his shoulder at the man he'd left behind.

He didn't trust the guy, but if this thing was real there wasn't really any other way to do this. He shifted on his feet, meeting her eyes.

"Big money means big protection," he said evenly. It was about as close as actually saying Be careful. as they got.

"What about the first guy?" Their actual mark. "We going to grab him if we get the chance, or stick to this plan?"

Natasha nodded in understanding. “And lots of it,” she agreed, her own version of the same sentiment. She wasn’t sure she liked this plan, cobbled together in haste, but she didn’t see a lot of other options, they had to work quick of risk losing everything.

“He doesn’t know anyone is after him yet so I think it’s best we leave that one for now and focus on this plan. We can go back for him another time, or someone else can take him out,” she said. This was becoming dangerous enough as it is, and trying to run both plans simultaneously was like to end up with both failing, or worse.

Clint wasn't sure he liked it either, but they didn't really have much of a choice. Besides, they had pulled off successful plans based on a whole hell of a lot less.

He nodded. "I'm gonna give our guy the good news," he said, flashing her a small smile. "If it turns out he's playing us, it really will be your turn."

"I'll head you guys off at the meet-up spot and get somewhere high. Wherever this is going down, it's got to be nearby."

Natasha nodded at Clint’s assessment of the meeting point and his tactics. If anyone could watch them and follow undetected it was Hawkeye. “Remember, the second the buyers leave you’re on them, don’t wait for me. I will take care of whoever they leave behind.”

Without waiting for acquiescence, she moved to push the door open. “Now let’s not keep him waiting.”

Striding back out into the main room, slipping flawlessly back into character, she stopped a few feet from the man and crossed her arms, one hip jutting out to the side as she glared at him, obviously unhappy to find him still alive. “My partner says you may be of some use to us yet. Pity.”

"Please, just don't kill me," the man said, his eyes on Natasha. "I'll give you the formula to the box. I don't care what you do with it, just don't kill me."

"I liked you better when you were the strong silent type," Clint said, moving to the chair they had him tied to.

He cut the cords, gripping the man's wounded shoulder tightly and causing him to yell in pain.

"Here's the plan, you're going to go with my associate here to the meet-up. She'll make sure you don't die and you'll make sure the highest bidder gets the box."

He man looked wildly between them. "You want me to go back?"

Clint paused and let out a deep breath. "What part of make sure you don't die, did you have a problem with?"

Well, Clint had definitely done enough damage to the man to make him compliant, at least when it came to giving them information. He did not seem all that keen on following through with the meeting he was supposed to have tonight.

“Well, we could let you go, but how far would you get before they track you down and kill you anyway?” Natasha said, waving one hand elegantly in the air. “As my partner said, if I accompany you I can guarantee you won’t die.”

There were no guarantees in life, but he sure stood a better chance with her watching his back than any other option he had right now.

The man, whose name turned out to be Stevenson, didn't really have any other choices and reluctantly agreed to going to the meeting with Natasha. Once he had the address of the meeting place, Clint had made sure to get there as early as possible. He'd been right in guessing that big players meant big protection, but he managed to slip through the security points fairly easily.

By the time that Natasha showed up with Stevenson he had a good vantage point from the rafters of the warehouse. He had backup on standby to help him take down the highest bidder, but actually seeing the number of people trying to get their hands on this thing made him wonder if he didn't need to stay and back up Natasha.

He turned his head, talking into the comm he shared with her.

"We've got five major players, all with SHIELD files a foot thick. I'm almost tempted to call more back up and make this a real party."

Natasha had considered changing before going into this deal, but in her current state of attire she certainly looked less threatening and more ‘eye candy’ so she figured that would work to her advantage. The only problem that presented was where to hide her weapon. She did carry a gun strapped to her thigh beneath the dress and another in her small handbag, though they were inferior to the glocks she preferred to carry.

Stevenson was nervous as hell and it only served to piss her off and put her severely on edge. For this to work he had to play his part and not let on that she was a danger to this deal, and seeing the sweat beading on his brow as they reached the meeting point, she had the distinct feeling he was going to fail.

“You really want to share all the fun?” Natasha replied quietly to Clint. Soon she would have to go silent, but his voice would remain a comfort in her ear. Ultimately she knew what he was really saying, she knew he was worried about this whole deal, and she appreciated it for sure, and her statement was as just as much of a code as his own. She was leaving the call up to him so long as it didn’t interfere with her business.

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