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xp_logs2015-02-20 04:12 pm
x-hawkeye.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2015-02-20 04:12 pm
Entry tags:
Matt & Clint (& Cecilia) | Friday Evening (backdated)
Clint drives Matt out to the mansion and they run into Cecilia upon arrival.
"I'm exercising my veto," Matt announced, plucking Clint's ipod from the dock and replacing it with his own. A moment later Matchbox Twenty began to play. Much better. Clint tried to claim that driver picked the music, but Matt argued that the driver was also the navigator so no way. Too much power in one seat and he couldn't drive.
"Oh, c'mon," Clint said, resettling his shoulders against the seat behind him. "You're using your veto for that? Velvet Acid Christ is alright." He didn't actually mind the switch. The volume was down so low the music barely registered to him and he liked it that way. He was driving through Westchester now and, while it wasn't like the area was unfamiliar, he didn't usually drive this way for much of anything.
"I'm tired of it," Matt explained as the GPS spoke up with the next direction - again. He hated the GPS, too, but he tolerated it since it was useful. "It wasn't so bad when you had on Panic! at the Disco or Angels and Airwaves, but I don't like this one," he and Clint did have some overlapping music tastes, but not always. Clint could get into some heavier more industrial music whereas Matt preferred to go the other way towards classical.
"We could put on 'This Is Gospel,'" Clint offered. "The piano version of that is pretty good and probably wouldn't offend your delicate sensibilities." He was all over the place when it came to music, could find something to like about basically anything. "Anyway, Marla says we're getting close -- " And right on cue, the GPS chimed in with the fact that their destination should be on their left. "Jesus Christ, is this a completely separate zip code or just a ridiculous driveway?"
"Ridiculous driveway AND it's own zip code," Matt agreed, remembering from the cab ride he had taken last time, "And we only listen to gospel on Sunday's. House rules," Steve had put his foot down when Matt had gotten into Gregorian chant in high school. "If it looks half as nice as it smells and feels, then it's hella swanky," and yes, he just used 'hella.'
"You just unironically used the word 'hella,'" Clint deadpanned. "You don't get to talk about House Rules. Anyway, it's a new Panic! at the Disco song. I heard the original on the radio the other day. I figure between liking them and Fall Out Boy in high school, we're lucky I didn't start wearing eyeliner and girl jeans." They road in silence for a little while before he leaned forward in his seat and gave the mansion in front of their car a slow blink. "Holy shit, dude. 'Swanky' is an understatement. This is old money like you would not believe."
"You could have worn girls jeans. You had the figure," not so much now. Clint hadn't grown like Matt had, but he had filled out well. "Yeah? Well. Then his ancestors are rolling in their graves about what he's done with the place. It's a school now."
"This is the beginning to a really, really terrible joke," Clint muttered. "Seriously." He parked, though, and sat back in his seat. "Am I picking you up on Sunday? I don't leave for Alaska until mid-week next week."
"If you want. Or I can take the train, whichever," he preferred the car, but he was long used to the train. "This reassignment is bullshit. Can't you protest or something? Hendrickson shouldn't be able to get away with trying to shoot teenagers! That's a ridiculous overuse of power!"
"Right, but striking a fellow agent and all that shit. I'm lucky they didn't straight up fire me or suspend me. And it's supposed to be a short reassignment. There's apparently some actual work they think I can do." Clint said. "This gives them the excuse to get me up there to check things out. I'll pick you up Sunday. We can swing by for family dinner before they ship me off to the frozen north. The... more-frozen north."
"It better be short," Matt agreed, "I don't want to spend my vacation freezing my ass off and looking at moose," because what else would he do up there? Look at the scenery? They parked a moment later and Matt got out to get his duffel bag for the weekend. "Alright then. You ready for this?"
"Whatever, there'll probably be wolves or something more interesting than a moose. Wolves killing a moose, maybe," Clint said, half-smiling at the fact that Matt just automatically assumed he'd be going to Alaska for vacation if Clint was still stuck up there. "And I'm about as ready to leave you in the middle of nowhere NY State at a mansion's front door as I've ever been. You wanna show me around before you kick me to the curb?"
Unfolding his cane, Matt hefted his bag onto a shoulder, "Well, you've been trying to mail me to Nepal since I came to live with you," not true at all, but still fun to tease. Clint had been really cool about getting a foster brother in the form of a younger cousin, "C'mon I'll give you the 10 cent tour."
"Hey, I nearly got you in that box with the shipping label for Brazil that one time," Clint said, opening the car door and sliding out. He tucked the keys to the town car in his pocket after clicking the 'lock' button, knowing it was more than unlikely anyone would try to steal it, but it was their dads' and he'd learned early on to take zero chances. Clint followed Matt up to the front door, taking in all the little details - vines and ivy, cracks in the exterior stone that added character rather than damaging structural integrity. "Old money," he muttered again.
Opening the door, Matt tried to remember his way around. It had been over a week since he'd been here last though and it had been a guided tour. "Hey Clint!" he called, "There a map around here?" that would be useful.
"That would be a no," Clint replied, shaking his head as he closed the door behind them. It was nice, though. Really, really nice. "Isn't there supposed to be a welcoming committee for new people or something? Stepford Wives with lemonade or something?" He had no actual idea what he was talking about as he took in their surroundings. Movement off to his right caught his attention, though, and he glanced toward it without really thinking. Then he smiled. "Well hello." Matt would already know they had company. He just probably wouldn't realize they had really attractive company.
"Ugh, really?" Cecilia glanced up from her iPhone, ready to give this flirty stranger a piece of her mind. And then her eyes met his, and she took in the sight of the two men before her. And even though they were older and different-looking and out-of-context, she'd seen enough not-familiar-familiar-faces to know without a doubt who she was looking at.
She wasn't sure how to react. Matt had been an unlikely friend, but a close-enough one, and they'd spent a whole summer working together. And Clint was... Clint. Like a little tagalong brother whose dog she'd inherited. (It took everything she had to resist the urge to see if he had the same scar from Wade's car.)
"Hi," she said after a few moments too long. She had to assume they'd assume she was reacting to Clint's sort-of-come-on. "Hello." She smiled at them. "New arrivals?"
"He's arriving," he said, tilting his chin toward Matt. "I'm escorting. As older brothers usually do. I'm Clint. It's nice to meet you... ?"
Cecilia had the slightest hunch that Clint was a little cocky, and just the thought that this Clint was different than that Clint made her want to freak out. And had she not become an expert at grace under pressure, she might have. "I'm Cecilia. Just a resident. Not an escort." She turned her head slightly to Matt. "Like you."
"I'm Matt," he said offering a smile, but not his hand. "And ignore him, it's what I do. He's not pretty enough to be an escort, but he has hopes," he added. Cecilia was cute, Clint was right. Matt had his own definitions and criteria for that and the biggest one was that she smelled good. "I'm uh, staying here for the weekend, but I forgot the way to the room I was given. I think the kitchen is that way though," he pointed in the direction that he smelled food and hoped he was correct.
"Good guess." She knew it wasn't, but still. "Well, welcome. The rooms are up a floor and all that way," she pointed toward the east side of the mansion for Clint's benefit, "but can't tell you which one you've ended up in. Everyone here's pretty friendly, so if you go around knocking doors, you'll probably be able to figure it out."
"I have a key," Matt said helpfully, adjusting his hold on his cane to fish it out. There wasn't a room number engraved on it though.
"Hey, now, be careful. You'll hurt my mainly pride or something," Clint said, grinning as he rocked back on his heels. "It's nice to meet you, Cecilia." Shifting just a little, Clint tapped the toe of his boot against the end of Matt's cane, Morse code for, You good? Want me to leave?
It seemed wrong to let Clint drive an hour out of the city to get here and then ditch him as soon as they got here, but he also didn't want to look clingy. "You want a tour really quick?" Matt asked, "Gawk like a tourist some more?"
"Sure, I could do a tour if you've got time. Wouldn't want to get in the way of your busy work schedule, after all," Clint said, smiling again. Tipping his head toward Matt, Clint looked back at Cecilia and said, "He's a hotshot lawyer." The pride in his voice was unmistakable.
"Well, well, well." Cecilia crossed her arms and nodded approvingly. Good to know Matt ended up getting that law degree, at least in one universe. (That sounded more morbid than she'd intended, but she let it slide.) "A lawyer among us." She grinned. "You billing him for these hours?"
"I'm a junior lawyer in a sea of other lawyers doing scut work," Matt corrected, "but...lawyer nonetheless," he had to earn his stripes just like anyone else, "so of course. Except I gotta cut him the family rate AND the poverty rate because the government pay is crap. Word of free advice? Don't become a spy. The pay is lousy," not that Clint was really a spy, but still.
"Dude, you're not supposed to tell people I'm a spy," Clint said, rolling his eyes Heavenward. "And anyway, with all the weird stuff going on these days, SWORD's not really covert. And neither is SHIELD anymore. No matter how much they like to pretend otherwise." Looking back toward Cecilia, he grinned again and said, "I'm a junior agent. So we make a good pair, me and numbskull over there. Junior agent, junior lawyer - all Kimura-Murdock-Barton charm."
"Law enforcement and the law. Quite a pair." Cecilia shook her head, the grin staying on her face. Their amateur brother act was shaky, but it was effective. For a brief second, she wondered if the two were trying to impress her, but she pushed the thought out of her head. Either way, she found their closeness to be comfortingly familiar. "Well, I'm a doctor, so between the three of us, we've got every popular TV profession covered."
"He shoots them, you patch them up, I put them away," Matt agreed. The perfect trifecta. "Alright then, let's go see if we can find our way through this place."
Clint just quirked a slightly rueful smile, saying, "Taking your bag," before reaching over and doing just that. This place was classy to the max, almost making him a bit antsy with its air of understated elegance. He had a feeling one of the paintings on the wall was probably worth more than he made in a year. It was unsettling, but he hid it well.
"Well, I'll leave you to it." Cecilia gestured in the right direction with your head. "Great to meet you both." Actually, she was starting to feel a little weird about the whole thing but did her best to hide it. Maybe it'd be best if Clint got in and out, mostly unseen. "Guess I'll be seeing you around."
"I'm exercising my veto," Matt announced, plucking Clint's ipod from the dock and replacing it with his own. A moment later Matchbox Twenty began to play. Much better. Clint tried to claim that driver picked the music, but Matt argued that the driver was also the navigator so no way. Too much power in one seat and he couldn't drive.
"Oh, c'mon," Clint said, resettling his shoulders against the seat behind him. "You're using your veto for that? Velvet Acid Christ is alright." He didn't actually mind the switch. The volume was down so low the music barely registered to him and he liked it that way. He was driving through Westchester now and, while it wasn't like the area was unfamiliar, he didn't usually drive this way for much of anything.
"I'm tired of it," Matt explained as the GPS spoke up with the next direction - again. He hated the GPS, too, but he tolerated it since it was useful. "It wasn't so bad when you had on Panic! at the Disco or Angels and Airwaves, but I don't like this one," he and Clint did have some overlapping music tastes, but not always. Clint could get into some heavier more industrial music whereas Matt preferred to go the other way towards classical.
"We could put on 'This Is Gospel,'" Clint offered. "The piano version of that is pretty good and probably wouldn't offend your delicate sensibilities." He was all over the place when it came to music, could find something to like about basically anything. "Anyway, Marla says we're getting close -- " And right on cue, the GPS chimed in with the fact that their destination should be on their left. "Jesus Christ, is this a completely separate zip code or just a ridiculous driveway?"
"Ridiculous driveway AND it's own zip code," Matt agreed, remembering from the cab ride he had taken last time, "And we only listen to gospel on Sunday's. House rules," Steve had put his foot down when Matt had gotten into Gregorian chant in high school. "If it looks half as nice as it smells and feels, then it's hella swanky," and yes, he just used 'hella.'
"You just unironically used the word 'hella,'" Clint deadpanned. "You don't get to talk about House Rules. Anyway, it's a new Panic! at the Disco song. I heard the original on the radio the other day. I figure between liking them and Fall Out Boy in high school, we're lucky I didn't start wearing eyeliner and girl jeans." They road in silence for a little while before he leaned forward in his seat and gave the mansion in front of their car a slow blink. "Holy shit, dude. 'Swanky' is an understatement. This is old money like you would not believe."
"You could have worn girls jeans. You had the figure," not so much now. Clint hadn't grown like Matt had, but he had filled out well. "Yeah? Well. Then his ancestors are rolling in their graves about what he's done with the place. It's a school now."
"This is the beginning to a really, really terrible joke," Clint muttered. "Seriously." He parked, though, and sat back in his seat. "Am I picking you up on Sunday? I don't leave for Alaska until mid-week next week."
"If you want. Or I can take the train, whichever," he preferred the car, but he was long used to the train. "This reassignment is bullshit. Can't you protest or something? Hendrickson shouldn't be able to get away with trying to shoot teenagers! That's a ridiculous overuse of power!"
"Right, but striking a fellow agent and all that shit. I'm lucky they didn't straight up fire me or suspend me. And it's supposed to be a short reassignment. There's apparently some actual work they think I can do." Clint said. "This gives them the excuse to get me up there to check things out. I'll pick you up Sunday. We can swing by for family dinner before they ship me off to the frozen north. The... more-frozen north."
"It better be short," Matt agreed, "I don't want to spend my vacation freezing my ass off and looking at moose," because what else would he do up there? Look at the scenery? They parked a moment later and Matt got out to get his duffel bag for the weekend. "Alright then. You ready for this?"
"Whatever, there'll probably be wolves or something more interesting than a moose. Wolves killing a moose, maybe," Clint said, half-smiling at the fact that Matt just automatically assumed he'd be going to Alaska for vacation if Clint was still stuck up there. "And I'm about as ready to leave you in the middle of nowhere NY State at a mansion's front door as I've ever been. You wanna show me around before you kick me to the curb?"
Unfolding his cane, Matt hefted his bag onto a shoulder, "Well, you've been trying to mail me to Nepal since I came to live with you," not true at all, but still fun to tease. Clint had been really cool about getting a foster brother in the form of a younger cousin, "C'mon I'll give you the 10 cent tour."
"Hey, I nearly got you in that box with the shipping label for Brazil that one time," Clint said, opening the car door and sliding out. He tucked the keys to the town car in his pocket after clicking the 'lock' button, knowing it was more than unlikely anyone would try to steal it, but it was their dads' and he'd learned early on to take zero chances. Clint followed Matt up to the front door, taking in all the little details - vines and ivy, cracks in the exterior stone that added character rather than damaging structural integrity. "Old money," he muttered again.
Opening the door, Matt tried to remember his way around. It had been over a week since he'd been here last though and it had been a guided tour. "Hey Clint!" he called, "There a map around here?" that would be useful.
"That would be a no," Clint replied, shaking his head as he closed the door behind them. It was nice, though. Really, really nice. "Isn't there supposed to be a welcoming committee for new people or something? Stepford Wives with lemonade or something?" He had no actual idea what he was talking about as he took in their surroundings. Movement off to his right caught his attention, though, and he glanced toward it without really thinking. Then he smiled. "Well hello." Matt would already know they had company. He just probably wouldn't realize they had really attractive company.
"Ugh, really?" Cecilia glanced up from her iPhone, ready to give this flirty stranger a piece of her mind. And then her eyes met his, and she took in the sight of the two men before her. And even though they were older and different-looking and out-of-context, she'd seen enough not-familiar-familiar-faces to know without a doubt who she was looking at.
She wasn't sure how to react. Matt had been an unlikely friend, but a close-enough one, and they'd spent a whole summer working together. And Clint was... Clint. Like a little tagalong brother whose dog she'd inherited. (It took everything she had to resist the urge to see if he had the same scar from Wade's car.)
"Hi," she said after a few moments too long. She had to assume they'd assume she was reacting to Clint's sort-of-come-on. "Hello." She smiled at them. "New arrivals?"
"He's arriving," he said, tilting his chin toward Matt. "I'm escorting. As older brothers usually do. I'm Clint. It's nice to meet you... ?"
Cecilia had the slightest hunch that Clint was a little cocky, and just the thought that this Clint was different than that Clint made her want to freak out. And had she not become an expert at grace under pressure, she might have. "I'm Cecilia. Just a resident. Not an escort." She turned her head slightly to Matt. "Like you."
"I'm Matt," he said offering a smile, but not his hand. "And ignore him, it's what I do. He's not pretty enough to be an escort, but he has hopes," he added. Cecilia was cute, Clint was right. Matt had his own definitions and criteria for that and the biggest one was that she smelled good. "I'm uh, staying here for the weekend, but I forgot the way to the room I was given. I think the kitchen is that way though," he pointed in the direction that he smelled food and hoped he was correct.
"Good guess." She knew it wasn't, but still. "Well, welcome. The rooms are up a floor and all that way," she pointed toward the east side of the mansion for Clint's benefit, "but can't tell you which one you've ended up in. Everyone here's pretty friendly, so if you go around knocking doors, you'll probably be able to figure it out."
"I have a key," Matt said helpfully, adjusting his hold on his cane to fish it out. There wasn't a room number engraved on it though.
"Hey, now, be careful. You'll hurt my mainly pride or something," Clint said, grinning as he rocked back on his heels. "It's nice to meet you, Cecilia." Shifting just a little, Clint tapped the toe of his boot against the end of Matt's cane, Morse code for, You good? Want me to leave?
It seemed wrong to let Clint drive an hour out of the city to get here and then ditch him as soon as they got here, but he also didn't want to look clingy. "You want a tour really quick?" Matt asked, "Gawk like a tourist some more?"
"Sure, I could do a tour if you've got time. Wouldn't want to get in the way of your busy work schedule, after all," Clint said, smiling again. Tipping his head toward Matt, Clint looked back at Cecilia and said, "He's a hotshot lawyer." The pride in his voice was unmistakable.
"Well, well, well." Cecilia crossed her arms and nodded approvingly. Good to know Matt ended up getting that law degree, at least in one universe. (That sounded more morbid than she'd intended, but she let it slide.) "A lawyer among us." She grinned. "You billing him for these hours?"
"I'm a junior lawyer in a sea of other lawyers doing scut work," Matt corrected, "but...lawyer nonetheless," he had to earn his stripes just like anyone else, "so of course. Except I gotta cut him the family rate AND the poverty rate because the government pay is crap. Word of free advice? Don't become a spy. The pay is lousy," not that Clint was really a spy, but still.
"Dude, you're not supposed to tell people I'm a spy," Clint said, rolling his eyes Heavenward. "And anyway, with all the weird stuff going on these days, SWORD's not really covert. And neither is SHIELD anymore. No matter how much they like to pretend otherwise." Looking back toward Cecilia, he grinned again and said, "I'm a junior agent. So we make a good pair, me and numbskull over there. Junior agent, junior lawyer - all Kimura-Murdock-Barton charm."
"Law enforcement and the law. Quite a pair." Cecilia shook her head, the grin staying on her face. Their amateur brother act was shaky, but it was effective. For a brief second, she wondered if the two were trying to impress her, but she pushed the thought out of her head. Either way, she found their closeness to be comfortingly familiar. "Well, I'm a doctor, so between the three of us, we've got every popular TV profession covered."
"He shoots them, you patch them up, I put them away," Matt agreed. The perfect trifecta. "Alright then, let's go see if we can find our way through this place."
Clint just quirked a slightly rueful smile, saying, "Taking your bag," before reaching over and doing just that. This place was classy to the max, almost making him a bit antsy with its air of understated elegance. He had a feeling one of the paintings on the wall was probably worth more than he made in a year. It was unsettling, but he hid it well.
"Well, I'll leave you to it." Cecilia gestured in the right direction with your head. "Great to meet you both." Actually, she was starting to feel a little weird about the whole thing but did her best to hide it. Maybe it'd be best if Clint got in and out, mostly unseen. "Guess I'll be seeing you around."