Felicia & Clint | Oh Honey, No
Aug. 16th, 2022 08:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_hawkeye posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsA near-collision causes Felicia to realize that the state of Clint's face is untenable. She addresses the issue.
Clint yawned, a massive cup of coffee in one hand as he scrubbed at his beard and his too-long hair with the other. Scratching at his scalp, he blinked his watery eyes and propped his fake glasses to the top of his head, then rubbed his eyelids and yawned again. "Ugh," he muttered, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes.
Being awake before nine in the morning was the worst. He couldn't remember, for a moment, why he was up, but then the wormhole thing came back and he recalled telling... someone... that he'd run data for... something. "Fuck, I need more coffee."
Felicia rounded the corner, brushing past with a sweep of her coat, bag held temporarily on her elbow as she typed noisily on her phone. "Morning Clin-" she started, before halting and sharply turning around. "What the actual fucking what is. What is happening here."
Having turned on his heel to follow Felicia, at least until she passed the kitchen where he planned to split off so he could just temporarily steal the entire carafe, Clint stopped abruptly and winced when some of his precious, precious brew sloshed over his fingers. "Aw, coffee," he mumbled. "No." Then his brain processed what Felicia had said and he blinked at her. "What?"
"What. Is this?" she said, obviously still trying to make entire sentences in her shock, instead gesturing to his, well. Everything.
"Did you get mind whammied or something?" Clint asked, trying to save the coffee dripping off his hand with his tongue. Realizing there was no real use, he stopped and slow-blinked at her.
Closing her eyes, Felicia slowly took a breath and regarded him again. What she found obviously met the same level of horror as before as she shook her head, taking his unoccupied hand. "Hey Siri? Delay all my appointments until 14- no. Delay all my appointments until 17 hundred," she spoke into her phone, already dragging Clint in the direction she had originally been going. "Great. Pull up hair contacts and display?"
"Hair contacts?" Clint asked, eyeing the kitchen sadly as they passed it by. "Fi, Fifi, Felicia? What's happening? Also, hello. It's nice to see you."
"I wish I could say the same." Felicia's glare back at him was scathing, but she shifted her phone to grab a large travel tumbler from her bag and handed it to him as they descended into the elevator to the garage. "It's a black eye with oat milk, I'm out of chai concentrate. No pouting. Hey Siri? Message to Lucy. Sorry love you but emergency please call Toni, Charlotte, Andrew and Cameron for men's cut and shave today availability send."
"What?" Clint asked, chugging his cup of coffee and only scalding his mouth a little before putting the mug down and accepting the travel one. "I'm a delight. Your hair looks nice. You shouldn't cut it."
Felicia dragged him easily along, hitting the down button at the elevator with the first joint of her pointer finger, protecting her manicure, with a certain amount of venom. “My hair is perfection, and I may go more gold for summer, you absolute himbo…” she said, briefly registering her tone adding, “Delight. Himbo delight.”
Clint half-shrugged, figuring that was fairly accurate given his current level of caffeination. "Your hair is very pettable. But I like all my fingers and this travel mug, so I'm not gonna pet you. Gold would be nice, but it's really pretty like it is. You do you, you're fabulous. Also, this coffee is good. I don't usually put anything in mine." The elevator opened and Clint followed Felicia inside.
“That’s fair,” she replied vaguely, leaning against the elevator wall as her phone miraculously dinged. Scanning the text she made a small fist pump, “Yes, Toni. They have good espresso. Not for you,” she continued, pointing with one hand as the other knuckle jabbed at the parking button. “Maybe for you. We barter later when I can make fully cognitive thoughts.
“Oh. And thank you.”
"You're welcome," Clint nodded agreeably, then yawned again. "I have one bottle of good vodka left. That's what I'm bartering. And some European Skittles, maybe. They don't have grape. Plum. That's their purple flavor."
The door chimed open at the exact moment she uttered, “Vodka yes, Skittles no you weirdo. But we’ll discuss once I can see what levels of desperate you are.” Her heels hit the concrete like bullets and she half turned to smile at him. “Come on. I’m driving.”
——
An hour later, Clint sat grinning in the passenger seat of Felicia's car. "Damn, that was awesome. That's centrifugal velocity thing you have going on -- it was literal perfection. You came centimeters away from at least three guardrails." It wasn't often Clint got to ride in someone else's car without his proprioception giving him a headache, but he'd been paying attention for the entire drive and it was like his brain's ability to calculate everything from speed to distance had just fallen in love with Felicia's skills. "If I ever need a getaway driver, I'm tapping you. Don't tell Tasha."
Felicia smiled with her teeth, a secret pleased smile and entirely non threatening for once, as she straightened the car into the parallel park with one hand. “Your secret is safe with me. Unless you annoy me or I can make a significant profit. We’re here, let’s go, thank you,” she said, grabbing her bag from the back as she stepped out.
"Well, I'll try not to annoy you," Clint said, stepping out of the car, himself. He left the empty travel mug in the console, which made him remember. "I didn't even spill any coffee when you took that turn and avoided the tree. Here, there's a coffee shop right over there, let me buy you a coffee. That drive deserves caffeine payment."
"The salon probably has a three shot latte already waiting for me and a bottle of wine in case of emergencies," Felicia replied, taking his hand again. She gave it a squeeze at the praise, her smile warm as she knocked gently into him. "You're not getting enough sleep. It's okay, just let me take care of this."
"Mkay," Clint said, nodding along. "But also, I like lattes. Can I have wine while you let them make me pretty?"
"Of course, babe," Felicia answered, shouldering open the door to the salon, her grip still warm. A latte cup suddenly appeared in her other hand and her grin returned. "And I will keep that in mind."
"Sweet," Clint muttered, wondering what he had to do to get a magic latte. "Okay, I'm ready." Spreading his arms wide, one still held in Felicia's hand, Clint leaned his head back and said, "Do with me what you will."
With the background noise of the staff giggling, Felicia kissed his hand, released him, and directed him towards the shampoo station with a sportslike butt swat. "Hi Toni. Hello everyone, Serena, you and your lattes, beauty and grace, thank you. This poor man is going to need a glass of wine and to be treated like he's not ridiculous. Kind of like you would a puppy? Cut, product demo, and steam shave. Something low maintenance, even with the demo it's hit or miss on him remembering what pomade is. He's a 1 with some 2a underneath, I think?"
"I have no idea what any of that means," Clint said vaguely as he was ushered into a weirdly comfortable chair that the stylist promptly lowered as much as it was possible to. Then a latte appeared in front of him and suddenly he didn't care what was being done to his head, just so long as he got to drink it cause it smelled amazing. "But seriously, thanks, you guys are awesome."
Clint yawned, a massive cup of coffee in one hand as he scrubbed at his beard and his too-long hair with the other. Scratching at his scalp, he blinked his watery eyes and propped his fake glasses to the top of his head, then rubbed his eyelids and yawned again. "Ugh," he muttered, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes.
Being awake before nine in the morning was the worst. He couldn't remember, for a moment, why he was up, but then the wormhole thing came back and he recalled telling... someone... that he'd run data for... something. "Fuck, I need more coffee."
Felicia rounded the corner, brushing past with a sweep of her coat, bag held temporarily on her elbow as she typed noisily on her phone. "Morning Clin-" she started, before halting and sharply turning around. "What the actual fucking what is. What is happening here."
Having turned on his heel to follow Felicia, at least until she passed the kitchen where he planned to split off so he could just temporarily steal the entire carafe, Clint stopped abruptly and winced when some of his precious, precious brew sloshed over his fingers. "Aw, coffee," he mumbled. "No." Then his brain processed what Felicia had said and he blinked at her. "What?"
"What. Is this?" she said, obviously still trying to make entire sentences in her shock, instead gesturing to his, well. Everything.
"Did you get mind whammied or something?" Clint asked, trying to save the coffee dripping off his hand with his tongue. Realizing there was no real use, he stopped and slow-blinked at her.
Closing her eyes, Felicia slowly took a breath and regarded him again. What she found obviously met the same level of horror as before as she shook her head, taking his unoccupied hand. "Hey Siri? Delay all my appointments until 14- no. Delay all my appointments until 17 hundred," she spoke into her phone, already dragging Clint in the direction she had originally been going. "Great. Pull up hair contacts and display?"
"Hair contacts?" Clint asked, eyeing the kitchen sadly as they passed it by. "Fi, Fifi, Felicia? What's happening? Also, hello. It's nice to see you."
"I wish I could say the same." Felicia's glare back at him was scathing, but she shifted her phone to grab a large travel tumbler from her bag and handed it to him as they descended into the elevator to the garage. "It's a black eye with oat milk, I'm out of chai concentrate. No pouting. Hey Siri? Message to Lucy. Sorry love you but emergency please call Toni, Charlotte, Andrew and Cameron for men's cut and shave today availability send."
"What?" Clint asked, chugging his cup of coffee and only scalding his mouth a little before putting the mug down and accepting the travel one. "I'm a delight. Your hair looks nice. You shouldn't cut it."
Felicia dragged him easily along, hitting the down button at the elevator with the first joint of her pointer finger, protecting her manicure, with a certain amount of venom. “My hair is perfection, and I may go more gold for summer, you absolute himbo…” she said, briefly registering her tone adding, “Delight. Himbo delight.”
Clint half-shrugged, figuring that was fairly accurate given his current level of caffeination. "Your hair is very pettable. But I like all my fingers and this travel mug, so I'm not gonna pet you. Gold would be nice, but it's really pretty like it is. You do you, you're fabulous. Also, this coffee is good. I don't usually put anything in mine." The elevator opened and Clint followed Felicia inside.
“That’s fair,” she replied vaguely, leaning against the elevator wall as her phone miraculously dinged. Scanning the text she made a small fist pump, “Yes, Toni. They have good espresso. Not for you,” she continued, pointing with one hand as the other knuckle jabbed at the parking button. “Maybe for you. We barter later when I can make fully cognitive thoughts.
“Oh. And thank you.”
"You're welcome," Clint nodded agreeably, then yawned again. "I have one bottle of good vodka left. That's what I'm bartering. And some European Skittles, maybe. They don't have grape. Plum. That's their purple flavor."
The door chimed open at the exact moment she uttered, “Vodka yes, Skittles no you weirdo. But we’ll discuss once I can see what levels of desperate you are.” Her heels hit the concrete like bullets and she half turned to smile at him. “Come on. I’m driving.”
——
An hour later, Clint sat grinning in the passenger seat of Felicia's car. "Damn, that was awesome. That's centrifugal velocity thing you have going on -- it was literal perfection. You came centimeters away from at least three guardrails." It wasn't often Clint got to ride in someone else's car without his proprioception giving him a headache, but he'd been paying attention for the entire drive and it was like his brain's ability to calculate everything from speed to distance had just fallen in love with Felicia's skills. "If I ever need a getaway driver, I'm tapping you. Don't tell Tasha."
Felicia smiled with her teeth, a secret pleased smile and entirely non threatening for once, as she straightened the car into the parallel park with one hand. “Your secret is safe with me. Unless you annoy me or I can make a significant profit. We’re here, let’s go, thank you,” she said, grabbing her bag from the back as she stepped out.
"Well, I'll try not to annoy you," Clint said, stepping out of the car, himself. He left the empty travel mug in the console, which made him remember. "I didn't even spill any coffee when you took that turn and avoided the tree. Here, there's a coffee shop right over there, let me buy you a coffee. That drive deserves caffeine payment."
"The salon probably has a three shot latte already waiting for me and a bottle of wine in case of emergencies," Felicia replied, taking his hand again. She gave it a squeeze at the praise, her smile warm as she knocked gently into him. "You're not getting enough sleep. It's okay, just let me take care of this."
"Mkay," Clint said, nodding along. "But also, I like lattes. Can I have wine while you let them make me pretty?"
"Of course, babe," Felicia answered, shouldering open the door to the salon, her grip still warm. A latte cup suddenly appeared in her other hand and her grin returned. "And I will keep that in mind."
"Sweet," Clint muttered, wondering what he had to do to get a magic latte. "Okay, I'm ready." Spreading his arms wide, one still held in Felicia's hand, Clint leaned his head back and said, "Do with me what you will."
With the background noise of the staff giggling, Felicia kissed his hand, released him, and directed him towards the shampoo station with a sportslike butt swat. "Hi Toni. Hello everyone, Serena, you and your lattes, beauty and grace, thank you. This poor man is going to need a glass of wine and to be treated like he's not ridiculous. Kind of like you would a puppy? Cut, product demo, and steam shave. Something low maintenance, even with the demo it's hit or miss on him remembering what pomade is. He's a 1 with some 2a underneath, I think?"
"I have no idea what any of that means," Clint said vaguely as he was ushered into a weirdly comfortable chair that the stylist promptly lowered as much as it was possible to. Then a latte appeared in front of him and suddenly he didn't care what was being done to his head, just so long as he got to drink it cause it smelled amazing. "But seriously, thanks, you guys are awesome."
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Date: 2022-08-17 01:19 am (UTC)