Work Text:
"Mr. Barton" FRIDAY chimed "Mr. Stark has requested you meet to discuss a 'life or death emergency' in his lab immediately."
"Is this an actual life or death emergency or is he just hoping I'll bring a cup of coffee with me?" Clint queried suspiciously - if it was the second one, he was going to make it with water from the toilets this time and not tell the entitled billionaire before he finished it. He'd tried to discourage these 'emergency' meetings by making the last one 50% Soy Sauce (despite the criminal waste of good coffee causing him physical pain) and the sleep deprived idiot had just chugged it without even noticing, so clearly more extreme measures were required.
"While I do not have any information on the nature of the emergency, I can tell you that Mr. Stark had the kitchen send up four fresh pots of coffee less than fifteen minutes ago." FRIDAY supplied helpfully.
So it was only a 50/50 on the hope of more coffee then.
"Tell him I'll be right there." Clint answered with a sigh "And that I'm not bringing coffee."
"Mr. Stark would like me to inform you that he is relieved due to the fact that you are 'still oblivious to the clear need to add sugar' and remind you that 'the customer is always right, Bird Brain'." FRIDAY responded brightly.
The next cup was absolutely being made with toilet water.
By the time he arrived in the lab, Clint's alarm bells had started to ring - a life or death situation which wasn't an excuse to mooch his coffee making skills had a good chance of actually being life or death and, with Steve and Natasha away on a mission, his mind had begun to flit through worst case scenarios until he'd jogged half of the distance and only avoided a sprint with the thought that there was still a moderate chance Tony just wanted to send him on a pastry run.
"What's wrong Stark?" he asked, assorted extraction and rescue options already running through his mind as he ran over every detail he could remember of the mission briefing (which would have been easier if he hadn't spent most of it admiring Nat's form hugging jumpsuit and really hoping she returned with some energy left to burn, because, damn!).
"It's been two weeks since I told you I wanted to plan AJ's birthday and you've contributed nothing!" Tony snapped without looking up from his latest project. Because of course.
"You told me it was life or death!" Clint snapped back, irritated.
"It is life or death." Tony insisted "Because if her birthday sucks due to you bitching and moaning like the worlds most dramatic teenage girl about needing to be involved in the plan and then slacking off, I'm going to fucking murder you."
Toilet. Water.
"Luckily for you" Tony continued, oblivious to the glare he was getting "I've carried your dumb ass and planned it already. I just need you to sign off so that you can tack your name on to the end like the crappy family member who doesn't buy their own card to send."
Public toilet water - he'd make a special trip to the City to collect it. He even had a subway bathroom where his feet had stuck to the floor in mind. One of the stalls had mushrooms growing in it usually unique to sub-tropical Europe, it would be perfect.
"We're going big this year - she's made so much progress and I want her to be able to show it off to everyone. I'm talking dressed like a damn Queen by Natasha, inviting everyone she knows, a selection of her favorite commenters on Instagram, a couple of photographers. Hell, we'll even invite everyone she's ever beaten up that probably didn't really deserve it. The party to end all parties, all to showcase that she's a badass they're lucky to be allowed to bask in the radiance of."
"Too much." Clint said simply "You'll overwhelm her."
"It'll be fine." Tony insisted with a dismissive wave "She's ready now and we'll give her a softball bat and a Bucky - she'll be fit to take on the world. Maybe we'll even get lucky and the two of them will have wasted birthday sex."
"Too. Much." Clint insisted "I know you love her and you want to show the world that you love her and that they should too and I agree they should and probably will, but she won't enjoy it. It's just not her. Also, gross Tony, seriously, and no chance - I raise my kids better than that."
"Highly debatable on your parenting skills.” Tony countered casually before letting out a sigh and asking “Fine, what's your big idea then Robin Hood?"
"Funny you should call me that." Clint said with a smirk "Because for her Birthday this year, we are going to rob the shit out of you."
"Excuse you?" Tony asked, actually turning to face him now (though he suspected mostly so that he could showcase the unimpressed eyebrow he'd raised).
"She wants to pull a heist, she has a serious thing about the idea." Clint clarified "You know that building you bought last month? The old bank?"
"Yes..." Tony said suspiciously.
"We all go away 'on an urgent mission' and then call to tell her that we're sorry to totally wreck her birthday but we need her to help us by recovering some macguffin or another. Hire a few beefy ex-military guards who are in on it to make it a proper challenge, put her skills to the test getting to the vault and then, when she breaks into it, inside are her friends and presents and all the other party shit you'll insist on. No chance of it going wrong or getting her into trouble because you own the place, she gets her thrill, we get to pull a surprise party and as an added bonus we get to see how well we've trained her - we'll set up camera feeds, maybe a body cam so that we can all watch her progress while we wait."
"You do know that when everyone yells 'SURPRISE!' at her it's about eighty-twenty that she'll open fire into the crowd and drop half the guest list before she realizes, right? She might not be able to hit the broadest side of the worlds largest barn, but firing randomly into a large group of people in an enclosed space is bound to do some damage." Tony asked, giving Clint a look which suggested he actually thought he was so dumb that he hadn't considered that.
"Exactly!" Clint answered with unconstrained glee "We'll give her a S.H.I.E.L.D. issue I.C.E.R. on low settings - no real damage and it'll be fucking hilarious."
"Okay, I'm going to be honest." Tony conceded with a smirk "That alone pretty much sells me on the idea. Two conditions."
"Which are?" Clint prompted.
"One - the Guards have to double as Strippers once the main event starts, otherwise Darcy will never shut up about the wasted opportunity hiring 'military hunks' for the party."
"Fair point." Clint admitted "And Two?"
"Steve has to be stood right at the front of the group, prime line of fire position, no shield, no heads up." Tony supplied with what could only be described as a sadistic grin “Oh and don’t tell him it’s a low setting I.C.E.R. - if she misses him he’ll at least take a hit for someone else that way.”