House Calls

[clint_barton]

 

"I'm sorry, sir, but Mr. Stark is currently unavailable and unannounced house calls are highly discouraged. Please contact Ms. Potts to make an appointment."

Standing at the doorway of Stark's Malibu home, Clint gives the interface on the wall a mildly annoyed glance. The well-mannered rejection isn't unexpected, but Clint would stake his life on the fact that Stark's computer knows exactly who he means by "Mr. Stark". Only Stark would give his AI an attitude problem on purpose.

"No, not your Mr. Stark. I'm here for Stark Senior. I just need to speak with him, don't even need to step inside. Just patch me through."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I am not authorized to allow-"

“Stark, I know you're listening. S.H.I.E.L.D. has some questions for your dad, I'm here to relieve you of babysitting duty. Let me speak to him and we'll both be out of your hair within the hour."

The buzz and click of the door lock releasing comes almost before he's finished the sentence. The smooth English accent follows a short second later, all polite efficiency. "Mr. Stark is in the second guest bedroom on the first floor."

 

Comments

[fatherofinnovention]

"Like night and day, though I could level out a hangar queen in the worst of it without a problem." He sighs with a dismissive wave. "Ever take the helm? You don't strike me as the type of guy that's meant for running errands till it's time to punch out. Those eyes of yours aren't nearly dead enough."

[clint_barton]

"I run errands when I'm told to." There's no spite in his tone - just the same relaxed balance of professional and amicable. "But yeah, I know how to fly. I'd be flying now, but for some reason they insisted the cargo shouldn't be left unattended."

And by cargo, he mostly means Bruce Banner. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't particularly concerned about Howard Stark doing damage, at least not while he's so far from a lab.

[fatherofinnovention]

"Jumpy bunch of fellas, aren't they? The guy can't be that unstable or they wouldn't have picked him for the job."

He hopes. But they wouldn't drag in Dr. Jeckyll If he was so out of shape that he couldn't function...or at least they wouldn't send one agent and Howard Stark.

"Maybe later you can take me out for a spin, huh? Let me see what this thing can really do."

[clint_barton]

Clint just offers a quiet smile as Howard chats, not bothering to offer any words of confirmation on Banner's status. He does seem awfully casual about the whole 'let's put the Hulk in a jet' thing, though, so maybe he knows something Howard doesn't. That or he's just disturbingly okay with it.

"I'm sure that can be arranged. If you can convince the boss it's essential for your research, you can probably even fly one yourself."

[fatherofinnovention]

"Part of being who I am is the ability to sell anything to anyone. There's a reason why the name Stark was the name in every house in the USA--including the white one. Give me a month and a manual and we could have some real fun."

Howard doesn't fidget the way thay Tony does while talking, but his attention is still divided between Clint's pleasant little smile and the various nuts and bolts holding the plane together. Whenever there's a small pause in the conversation he reaches over to give one a solid little tug as if connecting the schematics in his head.

"So are our conversation topics limited here, or are you authorized to tell me about yourself?"

[clint_barton]

Howard may not fidget much, but compared to Clint, almost anyone looks antsy. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent doesn't look tense, but he's barely moved since he sat down.

"Depends. What do you want to know?" Short and direct as the question is, it's still friendly. Clint has no problem with chatting - in the past people who know him well have called him too chatty - but he's not really one to volunteer information at random, either.

[fatherofinnovention]

"You could start by telling me what it is that you do aside from picking up old men like me and bussing us around."

He doesn't expect much information from any agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., but he's not looking for much more than a few bits of gold in the desert; one tiny scrap of information should be more than enough for him to pick at before unearthing the rest. It's just more fun that way.

[clint_barton]

Where Clint gets his information by watching and listening, it seems Howard gets his by verbal interrogation. Gaze drifting to a few of innocuous looking storage boxes near the end of the plane - one holding his collapsible bow, the others his quiver and arrows - Clint offers Howard a grin.

"I'm a pretty good marksman. Sometimes they ask me to shoot things."

[fatherofinnovention]

"Oh yeah?" He asks, eyes scanning Clint's side, his belt, even his boots before his attention refocuses on the conversation. No firearm. Huh.

"So what do you shoot with? I've always been a fan of the 1903 pocket hammerless, myself. At least when it comes to the civilian quality stuff."