Clint and Maddie

[x-pryor.livejournal.com]

Clint and Maddie discuss the mansion's newest male arrival over lunch, and Maddie philosophizes over beauty and how it is imperative that his derriere be admired.




"I still don't know how you gave up cheese," Clint said, biting into his veggie sub and chewing. Mouth still half-full, he continued, "I mean. It's cheese. And it's delicious. I totally don't know what's up with Namor's no-cheese, olive pizza, either. You two would probably get along on pizza night. If you were interested in video games, anyway."

Maddie shrugged in reply as she took a bite of her own sub, a trail of lettuce falling out onto the wrapper. In lieu of meat or cheese, the sub was overstuffed with just about everything else. Except olives. Maddie was not a huge fan of olives. So despite Clint's thought that Namor and she would get along, based entirely on their food choices, she was highly doubtful. "Dude do you know what goes in to making cheese," she asked once her mouth was no longer full. "Cow stomach."

To give Clint a chance to soak in what she just said, Maddie paused and took a sip of her drink. "Mhmm. They take the stomach of a cow and extract the stomach acids to separate the curds and whey. And not to mention that the calves of dairy cows, especially the bulls, are often sent to become veal." "Do you want me to tell you again what they do to veal?"

"No. No, I don't," Clint said, already having heard the horror stories. "I didn't eat veal even when I was eating meat. Definitely not going to, now. But that doesn't change the fact that cheese is delicious and it enhances the deliciousness of my veggie sub. I'm going to be totally, purposefully obtuse right now and say that my cheese doesn't taste like cow stomach enzymes."

She laughed. Jerking Clint around was one of her favorite past times; it was so rare for her to have the upper hand intellectually that she felt the need to exploit it. Sure there was vegetarian cheese, but why would she tell him that?

"Anyways, I don't know what's up with that dude, pizza topping choices aside (I mean, olives are like totally bland. Give me sun-dried tomatoes and spinach any day and I'm a happy girl.), but I gotta admit that it's nice to have some more eye candy around."

Clint nodded along with that. "I guess. I mean, I wouldn't kick him out of bed or anything, but he's got some stuff he needs to work on. Like not being a douche. I think he legit doesn't know he's doing it, though. So hopefully some negative reinforcement will get the point across."

"I would," she said. It had taken a few moments because of course she had to go and take a huge bite right as Clint had finished his piece. And she wasn't about to talk with a mouth full of have chewed bread and assorted veggies. So he had to wait. "I'd totally kick him out of bed. Not for being a douche though. Nope." Maddie sat up tall in her chair, beaming, and very proud of herself. "I'd kick him out for him to make me waffles and so I could watch him walk away."

Having taken another bite of his sandwich, Clint had to make sure he was careful as he laughed. He didn't exactly feel like choking on green peppers. Swallowing, he said, "Dude, Maddie - that's kind of epic. I like it. I will probably steal it one day."

Maddie shrugged, and continued as though her best friend wasn't making a conscious effort not to choke on his lunch. He hadn't. And if he had, she knew the Heimlich maneuver, so he wasn't going die anyways. "Well I like waffles and he has a nice ass. Duh."

"That he does," Clint said, nodding again. "That he does. But I'm pretty sure he doesn't swing my way and you're taken, so looks like we're just gonna have to stick to theoretical appreciation of his ass."

"Mmm!" She pointed her cup in his direction and sobered her expression. "First off," she said in a serious and sage manner. "The appreciation of his ass is in actuality, not theory."

Maddie nodded once definitively. This was a serious philosophical discussion and should be treated as such. "It would be wrong for us to not appreciate his ass. For doing so would have us denying ourselves what beauty nature has set before us. 'Twould be like ignoring the beauty of a sunset, or the stars in the heavens; our lives would be sad and empty and the presence of these beautiful objects would be completely void of any meaning. His ass needs to be appreciated for its beauty as much as we need to appreciate it; one cannot exist without the other."

She paused for a moment to satisfy the thirst brought on by the act of monologue-ing, then reverted back to her normal upbeat, pseudo-airhead manner. "And secondly," chirped the redhead excitedly. "We have no reason to assume that he does not not swing your way, right? Look at Sue and me."

"Besides which, he's European, so you never know. If not? Just do what I do and appreciate what there is to appreciate for the sake of beauty."

"Yes, O Wise One," Clint said, suppressing a laugh as he bowed down before Maddie's greatness. "But it'd probably creep him out if I was like, 'Nah, dude, you just do what you do, I'ma sit back here and appreciate the view.'"

"To be fair," the redhead said. "Most people would be creeped out at that. You just don't say it."

"I mean Kyle has a nice ass. This is not a subjective opinion, it's a fact plain and simple. But I don't go 'Hey. Nice ass.' Well except for that one time, and even you have to admit that given the situation it was begging to be said."

"Yeah, but Kyle's our teacher. There's something a little different about objectifying him. Other students or people near our age? Totally game. Not so much Kyle." Clint could agree that their English teacher was attractive because well. He wasn't blind. He just couldn't work his way around to saying something like that out loud. "But I can totally objectify Namor. And Angel. Because yeah."

Maddie gave him a questioning look, eyebrows raised high. She hadn't realized before how strongly Clint's preference ran toward older. Sure there had been Tandy, but technically they could be considered the same age given they were separated by a few months. And still, you can't exactly base a pattern on one person.

Interesting...

Clint narrowed his eyes at Maddie. "Why're you giving me the Look? It's the 'I'm planning something dastardly for you, Mister Barton. It will be magnificent!" Look. I'm not entirely sure I'm comfortable with that look given the topic of conversation."

It was an affront to her person, or so Maddie decided to interpret it, a very serious personal affront. Her expression changed to one of despair and she clasped her hands to her breast, her body language screamed "Who, me?" Like Clint's dog after she caught him eating her sandwich after she came back from the bathroom. "I'm not planning anything, let alone something dastardly. Especially for you." She shook her head in dismay and began wrapping up the rest of her sub. "I'm hurt, Clint. Really hurt. Thinking I would plan something nasty or cowardly for you."

"All I'm saying is that it's totally okay to admire from afar, and not say anything or worry about all the details. You gotta relax and just enjoy the moment sometimes. Give that brain of yours a break. You can solve the global energy crisis or how to make sure our smart phones don't rise up and become our overlords later. Okay?"

Clint just arched an eyebrow at her. "You're totally planning something. I know you, Madam Madelyne Jennifer Pryor, High Mistress of Everything Excellent and Wonderful."

Maddie rolled her eyes. Okay. That last part may have stoked her ego enough to take some of the sting out of the accusations. As if she even had time these days to plan anything beyond the topic of her next essay. "The only thing I'm planning," she said, "is to make out with my gorgeous girlfriend later. Whose ass, by the way, is way better than Namor's or Angel's. Combined."

"Your girlfriend's hot, it's true," Clint conceded. "But since I won't be making out with anyone, I think you shouldn't flaunt your good fortune." Then he grinned. "Besides, you have to help me with AP US History since it's your fault I'm in it."

"Like hell it is!" The redhead scoffed and pushed her chair back, deliberately scraping it loudly against the floor to show her disapproval. More lies and falsehoods! She began to gather her belongings and crutches. "You're in it because you know that Princeton wouldn't even look at you if you hadn't. You only have yourself to blame."

"But I'll help you because I love you. I was gonna do it anyways."

Clint finished off his sandwich in one huge bite and balled up the wrapped it'd come in. Then he picked up his own stuff and, after swallowing, said, "Princeton would look at me whether I took that class or not." He'd've been happy in the regular History class, but he did like being in it with Maddie and she did manage to actually make things interesting when they were studying.

She snorted in a very unladylike manner. Well, okay. It might have been a tiny be true. Mr. Guthrie had basically handed her the AP textbook and told her that she was taking this class, and he wasn't going to take "no" for an answer. There was more to the conversation of course, but the end result was that Maddie found herself in the advanced course. And of course she wasn't about to go through that alone. So she might have bugged Clint until he agreed to take it with her. Might. There was no evidence that would stand up in a court of law.

"Maybe," she said as she walked toward him. "Maybe not. But I do know that they definitely won't look at you if you fail. So come on Birdbrain, let's go learn about dead white dudes."