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"Let me guess, you're going to be late again," Pepper says when she answers the phone. It's as good as 'hello' when it comes to Tony.
"Sorry, Pep," Tony says, and to his credit, she actually believes he's apologetic this time. "I think we need to reschedule date night."
This isn’t the first or the second date night in a row he's rescheduled. Tony doesn't keep score. He doesn't think it's important to know exactly how many times he's stood her up, or cancelled at the last second, or even cancelled four days in advance just because he knows he'll be busy and that he'll forget to call otherwise. If it's not important to him to remember, why would Pepper think it's important either? That would just be petty or something.
"Okay," she says. She doesn't sigh, even though she wants to. "How about Thursday?"
Thursday works for him, apparently. He's got to run, he loves her, thanks for being understanding, don't wait up.
She wants to hold onto him -- to them-- she wants to so badly, but she can't help but feel like she stopped being a priority to Tony a long time ago.
"Thursday's not tonight," Pepper says to the dead air on the other end of the phone.
"I know he loves me; that's not the issue," Pepper says, shrugging. She makes grabby hands at the wine bottle, and Natasha hands it over.
The wine has made Natasha's muscles all loose and long, letting her reach farther than she normally could to push it into Pepper's hands. Or maybe that was in her head. Whatever, what's important is that they still have wine left and they get to enjoy it together.
Pepper hugs the bottle close to her, clutching it with both hands. "And he's a good man." She takes a deep drink and hands it to Jan, who's sitting on the floor with her back against the couch.
"A good man who can't make time for his girlfriend of five years?" Maria looks up from where she's lying on the floor by Jan's knees, tracing the lines of the pattern on the area rug. She's been anti-Tony right from the very first moment they were introduced. Natasha suspects the only reason Maria and Tony's deep and mutual loathing hasn't erupted into more fights has only been out of an equally mutual respect for Pepper's ire.
"I'm sure he just... forgot. Maybe there was a band emergency." Pepper winds her hands together, a nervous habit Natasha rarely sees on her.
"But four band emergencies? Wait, actually, I can believe that, with a drama queen like Tony Stark as their frontman," Maria snorts. She rolls over onto her stomach and reaches for one of the other bottles of wine. They have a few on the go. It's definitely that kind of night.
Natasha gets up, slowly pushing herself off the pillows on the floor, and heads for the kitchen. They need the corkscrew again and Jan's forgotten it on the counter. Natasha watches the other women through the breezeway in the kitchen and decides they need something a little stronger than wine if they're going to deal with the revelation Pepper is quickly coming to out there.
Pepper and Tony are breaking up. He stood her up again, she texts Clint while she waits for the popcorn to pop. Besides the wine, popcorn is the best idea she's had all day.
No shit? She should have dumped him when he forgot her birthday.
She's not taking it well.
It takes a bit longer for Clint to reply to this information, but when he does, Natasha can't help but smirk. I'm actually going to kick his ass. Seriously, Pepper is amazing. Standing her up is just not done.
Wow "not done" …?
Bite me. Been spending too much time with Rogers. Brunch tomorrow?
She doesn't text back to confirm because he already knows what she'll say and it looks like things in the other room are getting heavy. Natasha breaks the tension with a big bowl of popcorn and a bottle of lemon vodka.
"I'm leaving him," Pepper says finally. "I have to. I can't..." she trails off, staring up at the Christmas lights around the window. They may be out of season in April, but they give off a nice glow that Natasha prefers to the harsh overhead lighting.
Jan pats Pepper's knee. "It's okay."
"You'll be better for it," Maria says.
"I know. But only if I survive the next few weeks." Pepper sinks lower into the beat up old couch and everything seems to catch up with her at once. Tears spring up in her eyes and Jan jumps up onto the couch to hug her and make consoling noises.
"I'm not going to, though," Pepper says, suddenly looking so small. "I can't, I can't."
Natasha's not sure what can't means; whether it's that she can't break up with him or that she can't survive the next few weeks. She figures both mean the same thing in the end. "Yes, you can. You can stay here with me and Maria. We'll help you find a new place."
Pepper doesn't say another word about it, but she does wipe her eyes with the corner of a throw pillow shaped like a penguin. "So, what's all this I hear about The Widows playing a gig this weekend?"
A weak redirection from the topic at hand, Natasha thinks, but she'll let Pepper have it. Dissecting Pepper's relationship with Tony might amuse Maria, but Natasha felt a little cruel. "Yeah, Saturday at the Dapper Dingo. We need someone to help us set up..."
"Oh my god, Pepper, it's going to be so awesome," Jan says, braiding a length of Pepper's hair a little clumsily. "Do you know how long it's been since we actually had a paying gig? And this is our first of six in the next two weeks. Nick's actually talking about getting us a dedicated manager."
"Good to hear," Pepper says, leaning into Jan's hands. "It's been a while since I've heard you play."
"Well, you're going to be pleasantly surprised, because we rock," Jan assures her.
Natasha wishes she could have Jan's utter confidence in the matter, but the truth is, she's been struggling with feeling it recently.
Well, no, not quite. Obviously the band is awesome, and once they get going, the sound is fucking unstoppable, but Natasha's finding more and more reasons to be discouraged.
Club wants to hire them to play a set every Wednesday night? Club burns down. Laudatory reviews about 'uplifting and virtuosic piano drawing the album together in a very satisfying way'? Piano player quits the band and moves back to England after a very public break up. Big, promising gig uptown? Creep on the bus pees on Jan's guitar on the way there and they're referred to as 'that band that smelled like piss' for the next six months.
The list goes on and on and on. Natasha's beginning to think the universe doesn't want them to succeed at this. That, of course, only makes her want to work harder.
While Maria taps the buttons on her phone with lightning-fast precision and Jan and Pepper talk about that time with the guy on the bus, Natasha takes another swig from the bottle of vodka.
Clint has dealt with a lot worse than just hung over, so she doesn't worry about the next day. She figures, work hard, play hard.
"Rough night?" Clint asks. He's smirking at her obvious misery, but he takes off his hat and drops it on her head so she can shield her eyes from the bright sun on the patio.
"I think Pepper is dead," Natasha says. They might all be dead in her apartment; she isn't too sure. She hadn't seen any movement before she left.
"Yeah? Has she actually talked to Stark yet?"
"I don't think so."
"I hope he cries," Clint says with a vicious grin. He orders a pitcher of sangria from the waitress and doesn't bother to flip open his menu. "Who was that?" he asks as he watches the waitress walk away.
"The waitress? I don't know, I didn't check her i.d... And wow, nice thing to say about a guy who's supposedly your friend. Do you hope I cry too?"
"You wouldn't cry if someone broke up with you. You'd just set their shit on fire. Where's Tanya? She's always our waitress on Sundays."
"That fire was an extenuating circumstance. Maybe she's sick or something," Natasha says.
"Five double martinis is not an extenuating circumstance," says Clint. But Natasha remembers that he picked her up off the street corner in the dead of night while Sasha Nikitin's truck burned in the distance, and said that’s when he knew she was the coolest girl he'd ever known.
"Ugh," she says eloquently.
"Besides, Tony's been pissing me off lately. He said Brooks and Dunn suck, Nat. How am I supposed to work with him?"
The mysterious waitress drops off glasses and their sangria, and Natasha considers kissing the blessed angel, because the drink is perfect and cold and it soothes her sore throat with just the right amount of sweetness. Plus, there's a pretty good chance the alcohol will take the edge off her hangover, and that sounds like heaven.
"You'll soldier through," she says. "I heard Fury wants to plan a big, cross country tour for his precious Ultimates. I'm sure all the fame and money and groupies will smooth out tensions between you guys."
Clint shrugs. "Maybe. Steve and Fury are still ironing out the details."
They eat in companionable silence when the waitress brings the French toast and another pitcher of sangria.
Natasha offers Clint the rest of her fruit salad when she's done fishing all the watermelon out of the bowl. He always takes leftover food no matter what it is, a holdover from when he never knew where his next meal would come from, she assumes. She watches the other people on the patio, a few happy couples, a decidedly unhappy couple, and a noisy family gathering to celebrate a birthday.
She catches him studying her closely for a moment or two before he speaks again. He usually just blurts out whatever banal thought is in his head, so any contemplation on his part makes her take notice.
"Would The Widows want to be our opening act, if we did go on tour?"
Despite prepping herself for something big, Natasha almost sprays a mouthful of the bright red sangria all over him and their table. It takes a few tries to swallow, but she gets it. "Excuse me?" she says, a little louder than she meant to.
"Well, like, I mentioned it to Fury and he didn't dismiss it on the spot, so... That's a good sign."
"You didn't think to ask us first? Just went straight to the boss?"
Clint ignores the signs she’s actually upset with him, which has been dangerous for him in the past and plows on. "It could be huge for you. You guys -- sorry, girls -- sorry, women -- are amazing. You just need to hit people over the head with it until they're willing to listen. Opening for The Ultimates could do that." He gives up trying to stab the last blueberry out of the bottom of the fruit salad bowl and picks it up in his fingers and offers it to her. "Besides, I don't think I could go that long without seeing you."
Her phone starts playing Maria's ringtone. Natasha's still dumbfounded by Clint's news, so she answers it to give herself a little more time to think. "Nat," Maria says, sounding distressingly sober. "You need to get home. There's a guy here... He says he's our new band manager."
His name is Phil and he's very nice.
Natasha gets home with Clint in tow and Maria is dried and dressed, and Jan is in the shower.
Apparently, Phil showed up while Maria was in the shower trying to wash her hangover down the drain, or at least drown it in the attempt. Jan let him in and laughed in his face when he told her who he was.
"Did you offer him coffee?" Natasha asks.
Maria shrugs. "I was planning on keeping it all for me."
"I'm fine, thank you," Phil says -- he's not out of earshot or anything, just sitting with his elbows pinned in at his sides between Clint and the wall at the old kitchen table, looking out of place in their miniscule kitchen dressed in a shirt and tie. "Also, I brought muffins."
"I like him," Maria says. It was the same thing she had declared about Clint the first time they met and he had brought doughnuts. Natasha thinks Clint probably gave Phil the heads up.
"I like you too," Phil says, putting the paper bag on the table. "And I want to make your lives easier in any way I can on this tour."
Maria freezes with a muffin midway to her mouth. "Tour?" she says, after a moment.
"What tour?" Jan and Pepper say together from the doorway, wearing matching looks of mild intrigue. Jan's freshly showered, but Pepper's still wearing the clothes she showed up in the night before. Clint gives her a little one armed hug and Pepper shoots Natasha an exasperated look. Natasha shrugs -- Pepper's known them both long enough to know that anything that gets told to Natasha will be told to Clint before too long and vice versa.
"Well, I should get going," Clint says. Natasha points towards the empty chair next to Phil and gives him her patented 'Clint Barton, I will break you in half' look. He sits.
Phil explains that Nick Fury, their label owner, thinks the tour is currently the best option for them. "He wants you to get the credit and recognition you and your music deserves. And he's sent me to make sure you get it."
"Okay, great, but... tour?" Maria's set down the muffin so she can cross her arms and stare intently, which Natasha knows from years of experience, means she's very upset. Maria doesn't abandon pastry for just any mild emotion.
Phil glances at Clint, just for a second, and maybe if Natasha didn't already know she wouldn't have caught it but Maria is watching like a hawk, and she catches it too.
"Would you just tell us what's going on, Barton?" Maria snaps.
Clint sits a little straighter under Maria's scathing glare. It's hilarious how obvious his fear is, and Natasha makes note to mock him later. "The Ultimates are going on a North American tour. Fury wants Nat and The Widows to be the opening act," he blurts out.
Jan whoops and slings her arm around Pepper in the doorway, dragging unresisting Pepper into a swaying dance. "Really? That's amazing!"
Maria huffs a breath and crosses her arms over her chest. "It's not, really, it's just that we're the only option he's got, right?" Maria's expression has changed from concerned to shrewd as she looks Clint up and down. "We're really the only other act he has signed that's even remotely comparable to you guys."
"Well, and there's Peter," Phil says.
Everyone turns to look at him incredulously, even Pepper, who isn't even with the label.
Clint recovers first. "You mean Peter Parker? The kid who raps about fractions and spider webs and pasteurization?" Clint's trying not to laugh and failing. "He's SHIELD's other hot ticket item?"
Maria's openly laughing and Phil looks down at his hands with a little shrug. "You should see how many followers he has on Twitter. He's definitely got fans," is all he says.
Natasha knows that's true. She blasts 'Aragog's Jam (Fuck Wizards, Man)' when Maria's not home. There's something so catchy about the kid's rhymes; Natasha doesn't doubt for a second he's way more popular than most people give him credit for.
"So, Fury wants us to open for them?" Maria asks, still eyeing Clint like she wants him to catch fire.
"I think it's going to be more productive to focus on how you can all work together for everyone's benefit rather than on an us-versus-them mentality," Phil says mildly.
Maria finally picks up her muffin again. "This is a good muffin. You're lucky this is a good muffin," she tells Phil, pointing with the muffin in her hand.
"Always the best for my band."
The new band manager isn't the only change Fury wants to make though. He calls them into his office to 'discuss some things'.
"You know I love Natasha and The Widows, I have from day one. That's why I signed you when you were playing one show a month in that dirty little club uptown."
Natasha's trying to pay attention, trying to listen instead of just waiting for her chance to talk. She knows she really shouldn't snap at him, especially after making Maria swear up and down that she wasn't going to, but she's got a mighty need to speak up about whole 'opening for The Ultimates' thing.
"I love your sound," Nick says. He's smiling, but he looks tense around the edges.
"Just tell us why you dragged us down here in the middle of the day. I actually have a job, you know." Natasha refuses to be embarrassed at letting her nerves get the better of her, but she can feel Maria's smirk aimed at the back of her head.
"Right..." Nick looks between Jan, Maria, Natasha, and Phil.
"The Ultimates are a pretty lively rock and roll show..."
"And we're not?" Natasha asks, even though she knows the answer. She just wants to hear him say it out loud.
"You're a lot softer, yeah. Indie folk rock, or whatever the kids these days are calling it now. And I love it. A lot of people love it."
Jan follows up with the line they're all overly familiar with. "But it's not selling."
"It's not selling." Nick looks down at some papers on his desk, evidently some hard numbers on just how much they're not selling.
Natasha sits up in her chair. "So, it's go on tour and promote our new album or what? You'll drop us?"
Nick sighs and manages a straight face, even though Nat knows Maria tries his patience something fierce. "No. Did I say that? Did you hear me say that, Coulson?"
Phil shakes his head. "That's not what you told me, sir."
"The tour is going to be good, Coulson's there to make sure it's good," Nick says.
There's nothing else to say, really, Natasha thinks. They'd be stupid to turn it down; obviously a nationwide tour is a huge, incredible thing that such a small fraction of bands actually get to do. They can fume all they want about the circumstances, but The Ultimates were a popular band and opening for them would get their name and their band out there. It's exactly what they want, just...
Natasha takes a deep breath and nods. "Yeah. It's going to be good for us." Jan and Maria give murmurs of agreement and they're suddenly in it for the long haul.
Just when Natasha's head is not spinning so fast and she thinks she can work with this new plan, Nick slips another thing in.
"And I want you to consider auditioning a drummer or two. You've been one member down since Peggy moved back the UK --"
Beside her, Natasha feels Maria tense up. Peggy's eight months gone now but Nat knows the break up still hurts like hell. Even Natasha feels it, and in her case, Peggy only broke up with the band. Maria had to go through with losing a bandmate and the demise of her relationship, all in one huge, terrible night.
"And I know that hiring a drummer isn't going to replace a pianist, but I think, and I think Phil agrees with me, that it could be the little boost that I know you're looking for."
Natasha looks up at Phil who is studiously not looking at any of them. "Is that so?" she asks.
"Are we looking for a boost?" Maria leans forward in her chair, looking from Natasha to Jan. There's a challenge in her tone, like she's daring anyone to have an opinion on Peggy's abrupt departure from the band.
Jan just shrugs helplessly. "I think we're great. I've always thought that."
Natasha nods. "Right."
"I meant the boost you need to come up with the next album," Nick says pointedly.
Oh. That.
Maria sits back hard enough that Natasha hears the puff of breath knocked out of her lungs.
Peggy and Maria had written most of the last album together, with Natasha helping where she could. They'd been hard up for new material since the break up.
"... That might not be the worst thing?" Jan says, after a few long moments of tense quiet. Natasha watches Nick relax in his chair and hears Phil let out a breath he'd been holding for a while.
They all know once one of the girls is onboard with an idea, it will ultimately win out. It's always been that way.
"All the drummers I know are assholes," Maria says, ever the hold out.
Natasha snorts. "Same. But maybe we'll get lucky."
Maria stares at her morosely. She might not be agreeing wholeheartedly now, but Natasha and Jan will have her convinced by the time they go on stage on Saturday.
"Good luck this weekend, ladies. Phil's going to be there, just to watch and get a feel for your show, to get some ideas. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
Natasha doesn't mind the sound of that, despite Nick's vaguely sardonic tone. Already she can tell he's going to be a great manager, and he calls them 'the band' instead of 'girls', which means he's not going to be patronizing like the first idiotic manager Nick tried to saddle them with.
"Thanks, Nick," she says, standing and holding a hand out to Maria, who was still eyeing everyone in the office like she didn't fully trust them about all this.
They head down to the parking garage in the mirrored elevator. Jan leans into the wall until her nose leaves a smudge on the glass. She smoothes her fingers over her eyebrows, frowning at a few stray hairs. "So, now we need find a drummer. Where do we even start?" She meets Natasha's eyes in the mirror.
Natasha looks back at her. "What? How should I know, you both found me."
Maria and Jan trade a look. "Well..." Maria says. "Can't you get your little snugglebunny to recommend someone?"
"... I threw up in my mouth just now," Natasha says. Maria has a habit of making up the most ridiculous nicknames for Clint at the best of times, but snugglebunny was one of the worst.
"I know, so did I. But he's gotta know some other drummers or something, right?"
Natasha shrugs. "I can ask him, but only on one condition."
"Is it that no one ever says snugglebunny again?" Jan is leaning on the wall for support, giggling herself silly over Nat and Maria's bickering.
"Yes."
Maria agrees, offering up her pinky in the one legally binding contract they know, and Natasha sends Clint a text asking for suggestions about a drummer.
She knows Clint will never lead her astray, not really, not when it comes to anything serious, but she still worries about it the whole way home. It's something new, uncharted territory, and it's sort of terrifying. A new bandmate, a new manager, going on tour? It's a lot all at once.
Natasha's not sure how they're going to do it, if they're going to be able to pull it off at all.
"There are two schools of thought on picking someone for your band," Clint tells her that night over Skype. Natasha's plucking her eyebrows for the first time in six months and that's always something he wants to watch. He says he's going to make a book one day of all the creative cursing she comes up with.
"Mmm? Ow, fuck, shitting ass donkey cock."
"Ew, donkeys. Yeah, so two schools of thought. First off, pick someone whose music makes you want to weep a little. In the good way, I mean. Don't pick someone who makes you cry the bad way; that's how you end up being Nickelback. If they're a talented enough musician and their sound meshes with the rest of you, anything else is just details to iron out after."
Natasha's quiet for a long moment. "I'm worried about Maria. She's agreed to do this, but I can tell she's not happy about it."
Clint nods. "Yeah, I kind of got that too. Your other option is to hire someone who fits best with the band. Your drummer's talent is obviously important, but The Widows could survive with a mediocre one. If the band politics are more important, find the right person instead of the right sound." He's nodding along to some beat Natasha can't hear as he talks. He does that when he's really into what's being talked about, something he's done for years and years. She secretly thinks it's cute, but she'll never tell him that. He probably doesn't even realize he's doing it.
"You're going on a tour, so you need to think of that. You're going to be living with this person for the duration. Ideally, you’ll find a superstar drummer who fits in perfectly with the rest of the band, but that’s a dream we all want to live and not many of us do. Think of it like auditioning a roommate who also happens to be able to drum."
Natasha sighs and sets down her tweezers. Her shoulders crack a little when she rolls them. She's so tired of this already and she has no idea why. She's excited for the band, for the music, even a little excited for the prospect of an actual tour, though she's not sure she's going to admit that to Maria just yet. Maria's still verbally drafting aggressive emails to Fury re: Phil around the apartment; Natasha’s fairly certain that the only reason Maria hasn’t escalated it any further is because Fury told them to get a drummer instead of a keyboard player. "Why can't we just have you? I know how to make you do what I want."
He laughs. "I'm already in a band. And we're kind of famous. Do you know how many tits I get to see these days? That's a perk The Widows just can't offer me."
"You're a pig," she says, and flips him off for good measure. "And we see plenty of nice boobs, thanks. Ugh, why does auditioning people have to be so hard?"
"You know that's how tons of bands get started, right? Just because you and Maria and Jan were lucky enough to magically come together and gel right away doesn't mean everyone does. You're going to be fine, Nat. Just put up some flyers, throw out an internet ad, and please, let me watch the auditions." He's balancing one of his own drum sticks on his finger. "If not because I want to see Maria shred some new recruits, then at least because I actually know shit about drumming."
"How long have we been friends? I think I've picked up a thing or two."
He shrugs and twirls the stick in his hand before he drops it with a clatter. "Did I tell you about the new song?"
"Is it a Bruce song or a Tony song?" Those are the two kinds of songs Clint's band comes out with and Natasha has a definite preference. Not that Tony's songs aren't technical masterpieces (and always the fastest ones to blow up the charts, of course), they're just... so Tony. Loud and unignorable and far more charming than anything really has any business being.
"Actually, it's a Bruce-and-Clint song," Clint says, putting on a shy, sideways smile that Natasha knows is totally genuine. "It's uh... It's not half bad, actually."
"Good, because you know I'd disown you if it were bad."
Clint rolls his eyes, but his soft little smile hasn't disappeared. "If you want to swing by practice on Friday night, you can hear it."
Natasha nods. "I'll see what I can do. We're still not speaking to Tony on Pepper's behalf, so it might be a little tense..."
"Pepper asked you to do that?"
"Of course not, but Maria was pretty adamant. How he’s treated Pepper is just the latest in her long line of reasons to call Tony Stark a dick."
"It's who he is. Also, he offered to let you have your auditions at his place. My purple kit is already there and you know I'd let you come here, but Tracey next door said the next time my drums woke up her kid she'd cut off my balls and staple them to my face, so... If we can avoid that, I'd appreciate it. I'll even try to lure Tony out of the mansion on whatever night you ladies pick, if you want." Clint's watching her carefully, like he's not sure how she's going to take the offer.
For all they're supposedly competing bands, Clint and Nat's friendship has coloured everyone's interactions for as long as she can remember. Maria and Tony might not get along, Jan and Thor might get along a little too well, but generally, they can all comfortably coexist within the same social circles without trying to kill each other.
"Tell Tony thanks. I should go though, I have to finish my asshole brows -- don't say a word -- and get some sleep."
He nods, grinning. "Sweet dreams, Nat. Text me tomorrow or something."
"Will do. Spokoinoi nochi."
She shuts down her computer and just sits at the desk for a few minutes. It's been a hectic couple of days and they have more coming up, with auditions when they could fit them in and then the gig on Saturday. Tomorrow, she'll sit Maria and Jan down for a band meeting to discuss all the shit that's been going on. Not now though, because once she finishes her brows, she's going to need to scream into a pillow for a few minutes to burn off her frustrations.
Natasha's cell phone starts to ring just as her alarm clock goes off the next morning. She answers it while groping for the clock.
"Hello?"
"Miss Romanov? Hello, it's Phil -- what was that?"
Natasha's just hurled the clock at the wall, because really, best alarm clock innovation ever. "Sorry, sorry. Hi Phil, what's up? It's early."
"Fury said you work most mornings, I just wanted to be sure I caught you. Do you have a few minutes?"
She bites back a sigh. "Of course, sure. I haven't had caffeine yet though, so I'm warning you up front."
"Warning me about what?"
"That I haven't had my caffeine." She struggles out from under her blankets and looks around for her slippers.
"Ah, of course. I was just calling to let you know I've lined up three different drummers for you and the band to audition. I can set up a time and place as well; I think it would be useful to find someone before the event on Saturday and to use that as a sort of test run."
"Phil, it's Wednesday. There's no way we can find someone by Saturday and be ready to go on stage. We can maybe find someone and learn her name by then, but not be stage ready." Natasha stumbles to the kitchen, passing Maria's open doorway and waving. Maria doesn't break her concentration away from her tai chi, just gives Nat the slightest nod back.
"I agree it's a tight schedule, but I think it's well within our reach. At least consider meeting some of these drummers this week?"
"Um." She pauses, stopping her train of thought to press buttons on the coffee maker because of course it didn't automatically start like it was supposed to every morning. "Okay, I'll see if we can go to Tony's tomorrow after Maria's krav maga class. Are you free around eight?"
"For Natasha and The Widows, I'm perpetually free. Tony... that's Tony Stark?"
Natasha gets her favourite mug down from the cupboard and dumps the hazelnut sweetener in it by the spoonful. "Unless you think Tony Montana has some drums we can use."
"Right... Well, if you're all okay with that." Phil seems a little unsure, and definitely means 'Maria' when he says 'all'. Natasha doesn't blame him for being a little unsteady with it. It's a complicated working relationship, even to the people inside it. "I can call my people and we'll be there at eight. I'll bring the new contracts and some of the paperwork about the tour for you to start looking over."
"There's paperwork? New contracts?" She freezes with her hand on the coffee pot. "Fury didn't mention anything about that."
"I’ll go over the changes with all of you; the new contract isn’t very different than the last one. A little better for the band, actually." He sounds reassuring in a way that is actually reassuring, until she realizes that and it sets her on edge again. She pours some coffee and pushes the feeling away and makes a note to turn a blind eye to whatever revenge Maria wants to extract from Fury for not telling them about this himself.
"Well, I'll look at it tomorrow then. Thanks, Phil."
"You're very welcome, Miss Romanov."
"What was all that?" Maria asks, coming into the room as Natasha sets down the phone. Pepper's right behind her with her wet hair wrapped in a towel. Once they navigate having all three of them in the kitchen at once, Pepper starts filling bowls of cereal for everyone.
"Drummer auditions tomorrow night at Stark's place. Eight o'clock, no excuses." Natasha smiles too brightly and pats Maria's hand.
Maria stares at her for a second, then none too gently moves her away from the coffee pot so she can fill up a mug. "Fine. I'll call Jan. Have a nice day at work."
Natasha thinks it's a strange for Maria not to automatically argue, but maybe she's just really trying to give this whole set up a shot. Natasha likes that. "I will. You too. It's going to awesome tomorrow."
Maria rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say, Nat."
Natasha splits a frozen pizza with Pepper when she gets home from work the next night.
"I reorganized the pantry in the kitchen. And the linen closet. And the DVD collection."
"Thanks, Pepper," Natasha says, trying not to look at her sideways. "Should I ask why?"
Pepper sighs and picks a mushroom off her pizza. "I've never been away from work this long without something to do. Even when I'm away from work, I have work. I'm going stir crazy. Alphabetizing your canned goods helped a little." She shrugs, a shy smile sliding off her face like she's embarrassed about her need to stay busy.
"So... you're looking for a new job?" It's not a subject they've broached with her yet. Both Maria and Nat agree that Pepper can stay as long as she needs to, but it would be nice to have an outline.
"God no. My job is amazing, I would never quit."
"The job being your ex-boyfriend's personal assistant is the best job? Pepper, even Jan's job is better than that and she works in a lab full of anthrax and monkey spit." Natasha scoops the mushrooms off Pepper's plate and dumps them on her own pizza.
"Yes. It's the best job I've ever had. It's... tricky to explain. I'm not worried about Tony though. I'll go back to work soon and it will be fine. He's just... Tony."
Well, there's something Natasha can't argue with at all.
"I really do appreciate you and Maria letting me stay here. I started looking for my own place earlier this week."
"Yeah? Anything good?" Natasha finishes the last of her pizza before it gets cold and inedible.
Pepper shakes her head emphatically. "Not slightly. I think I got used to a certain level of... cleanliness living with Tony. I've got a few more viewings early next week. Hopefully, I find something salvageable."
"Well, like we said, stay as long as you need to. I know it's not the best couch, but --"
"It's perfectly lovely. Thanks. So, you and Maria doing anything tonight? I thought we could watch a movie or something."
"Sure, yeah, sounds good. You pick, Maria and I always end up bickering forever and we wind up never actually watching anything on movie night. We won't be home 'til later. Band stuff."
"Oh..."
Natasha isn't sure if there's a way she can tell Pepper what's going on without mentioning they were going to be hanging out with Tony, and she's also not sure if mentioning Tony in anything less than total negativity is even allowed at this point in the post-breakup timeline. Natasha's been through some breakups in her time, but none of them quite as charged as this one.
"Well, have fun, make beautiful music, all that. Maybe I'll make us a late dinner?" She smiles and flicks her fingers like it's no big deal, but Natasha knows she's disappointed. The smile doesn't reach her eyes.
"You can come," Natasha blurts out. Pepper's doing her absolute best 'I'm not bothered at all, I love alone time with my thoughts' face and Natasha feels pretty shitty about it. She loves Pepper, loves having her around, and talking with her. And she knows Maria and Jan feel the same. "If you want. It's just... We're going to Tony's place to audition some potential drummers because we're going on tour and we have to find someone who not only has a decent downbeat, but that we can also stand to live with. We don't know if Tony will be there or not."
Pepper nods slowly. "It's fine, I swear. I won't wilt away for being alone one night. I'm past that and onto being a contributing member of society again. Go make all your noise and tell me about the new people when you get home."
Natasha stands up with her plate, but Pepper takes it from her hands. "At least leave me the dishes so I have something to do. I think Maria might have strong words to say to me if I go into her room and reorganize her closet."
"You're right about that. I'm going to do everything in my power to be back by eleven." She kisses Pepper on the cheek and hefts her guitar case. "Be home soon; don't go overboard with the medicine cabinet or whatever."
"Oooh, I hadn't even thought of that. Thanks, Nat. Have a good night!"
A good night. That's not what Nat is expecting to have. But the walk over to the rich part of the city is nice enough. There's a nice chilly breeze in the air and the rich neighbourhoods have less trash on the sidewalks.
She meets Clint on the sidewalk in front of Tony's imposing looking iron gates.
"Maria's two minutes away. No word from Phil yet," she says. "Nice jacket."
"Are you being sarcastic?" Clint asks, looking down at his leather jacket.
"Not at all. She definitely said she'd be here in two minutes."
"Hah, you're so funny. I like the jacket. I look badass."
"Yes, a badass drummer in a rock and roll band," Maria says, coming up behind them and patting Clint on the shoulder. "Or maybe a couch. You could pass for a couch. Why is it so shiny?"
"Because shiny is rock and roll," Clint says. "Sorry your adult alternative acoustic minds can't comprehend that."
"Well, we'll get it soon. Bring on the drummers," Natasha says before Maria and Clint can start a snark fest.
Tony's butler lets them in and Clint leads them down a flight of stairs, through a few hallways, up another flight of stairs and then through some big sliding doors that wouldn't look out of place on a spaceship.
"Here we are," Clint says, veering abruptly to the left. "In here."
"Well, goddamn," Maria says, not even trying to mutter under her breath or anything. Natasha can't blame her. The space is amazing, like something straight out of a magazine.
"Welcome, hi, how's it going?" Tony appears as if from nowhere with his hands full of beer. "Come on in, let me show you around. Was Jarvis nice to you? He's been in a snit all day."
"What, no, Jarvis is awesome. Did you say something mean to him?" Clint asks, taking beer from Tony and offering a bottle to Maria and Nat. Maria takes one and eyes Tony closely as he fiddles with a setting on a nearby amp and avoids Clint's question.
"So, Stark, what made you extend the olive branch?" Maria asks, twisting the cap off and tossing it at him.
Tony catches it and grins. "Because I'm a good person, obviously. And because if you're all planning to tour with us, I'd rather you didn't embarrass me."
Natasha trades a look with Clint from where he's lounging on a plush blue couch. "Thanks, whatever the reason," Natasha says quickly, before Maria can punch him in the throat. "Can we start? Is Phil here with the drummers?"
"Your stick-up-the-ass manager is not here, no. I didn't realize he'd be joining us. Thought it would just be me and you lovely ladies."
"He's bringing all the drummers to audition," Nat says. "Also, Clint's here."
"Hi, remember me?" Clint says.
"Trying hard not to, but you won't let me forget," Tony shrugs. "And I'm sure Jarvis will bring them down when they get here. You guys excited to be touring?"
"To be honest?" Maria asks.
"Sure."
"No, I'm actually pretty pissed that we got basically no say in how this is going down. And I'm pissed that now we have to go through all this upheaval and reorganization and audition bullshit and I'm pissed that Jan's late but I was threatened with a hundred deaths if I was even a second overdue. So. No. Not overly excited."
"Maybe she'll be more excited when the pissed wears off," Nat says. "Come on, Jan'll be here with Phil soon and we can get this done."
Phil shows up with three people in tow -- all women, which Natasha hadn't even thought about mentioning, but is extremely grateful for now -- a few minutes later. Natasha sizes them up, feeling only vaguely guilty that she's being so judgemental. It's a holdover from her all-girl boarding school days when insta-judgement was a standard requirement. She refers to them in her head as Punk Hair, Ripped Jeans, and Spiked Jacket.
Phil steps forward, the women trailing after him. "This is Natasha and Maria. And Jan is...?"
"Running late, as usual," Nat says.
Maria sighs. "You get used to it."
"Hi, I'm Tony Stark, welcome to my humble home. You are?" He drapes himself over Spiked Jacket's arm and she lights up.
"Jean, hi. So you're the Tony Stark? I'm kind of a fan."
Natasha tries not to immediately dismiss her based on her questionable taste -- really, Tony’s a decent musician -- but unfortunately it was a strong point against her. And Maria is rolling her eyes hard enough that it probably hurts. That's not a good sign for Spiked Jacket Jean.
"Hi," Nat says, sidling up to Ripped Jeans (really, they are more holes than denim, and clearly just that way to be fashionable) and smiling. She looks super nervous, and a lot younger up close and Natasha doesn't want any of them to be too worried about tonight. She wants to hear their best, their full potential, instead of their nerves.
"I've never been in a band before," Ripped Jeans blurts out.
"That's okay, we're not going to bite you." Nat looks over to where Maria is cruelly imitating Tony showing off his fancy practice space to Spiked Jean. "Well, I won't let her bite you."
"Good. Um. I'm Kitty."
"Well, meeow, Miss Kitty," Clint says, perking up on the couch.
Kitty Ripped Jeans turns around and fixes Clint with a stone cold dagger stare. "Excuse you?"
Nat laughs at the shocked look on Clint's face. "Oh. Oh, you'll be just fine here, Kitty."
Phil and Punk Hair were checking out the drum kit. "We should start," Phil announces. "Emma?"
Green and pink Punk Hair smiles and pulls a pair of sticks out of her voluminous neon pants. "Sure."
Natasha starts opening her guitar case while Tony and Maria have a small stare-off in the corner. After a few tense moments, he holds up his hands and steps back. "Help yourself, but if you break it, I'm going to let Bruce pull your head off."
"I'm not afraid of Bruce," Maria scoffs as she picks up the bass guitar. "And I'm not going to break it."
Tony looks like he has something else to say, but instead he just nods to her and wanders over to the corner. He sits himself down on a fancy leather chair and picks up a magazine, making it clear he has no intention on leaving, but isn't going to take an active hand in the proceedings. Not what Natasha was hoping for, but much better than she was expecting.
Natasha hands off one of the drum tabs of their songs that Clint wrote up for them songs to Emma (pretty name for the pretty hair, Natasha makes a mental note not to forget).
She's not all that bad, Punk Haired Emma. She can keep a steady beat and she doesn't rush through the song. Apparently rushing was a big thing to watch out for, Clint had mentioned earlier.
Natasha watches everyone else in the room watch them play. Phil's frowning in concentration, Clint's watching the drummer a little more closely than was probably comfortable for her if she was noticing, and Tony is doing that thing where he pretends he could care less but is actually focusing really intently on what's happening. Natasha recognizes it because Pepper tends to do it all the time. Never mind dogs looking like their owners, people tended to resemble their exes apparently.
The other two drummers are watching closely too. Kitty still looks nervous and Jean looks like she's getting there too.
"What do you think?" Maria asks after they finish Typical Old Souls and she's pulled Natasha over to the corner to conference. "I don't like her," she adds, before Natasha has a chance to answer.
"Why not? She rocked."
"I don't like her hair."
"It's purple and blonde. It's nice."
"It's too flashy. I don't like it."
"Maria, you're grasping at straws. And we're a tough, edgy, rock and roll band now, we could use a little flash."
"Jan's glitter-and-bedazzled everything counts as enough flash, I think."
Jan, of course, takes that as her cue to bounce in with her sequined guitar case. "You rang?"
Maria rolls her eyes, but gives Jan a one armed hug anyway. "You're late. I hate you and am jealous."
"Sorry, sorry. Meeting with the boss ran late, so then dinner was late, and then I was late, and you probably figured that last part out already. Hi everyone, I'm Jan!" She's all bouncing energy and smiles, like she always is. "Have we started? Are we rocking out?"
"Yeah," Natasha says at the same time Maria says "hardly."
Jan eyes them both carefully. "Oh. That clears it up then." She turns and flashes another perfect smile to the room. "Hey Clint, hi Tony. Thanks for letting us chill out here. It's fucking gorgeous. Did I pass a whole room of orchids on my way in?"
Tony winces for a fraction of a second -- long enough for Natasha to remember orchids are Pepper's favourite -- before the wince disappears and is replaced with his usual smirk. "Yeah, they're great. And no problem, I don't mind having such lovely ladies around."
Natasha introduces the three drummers and Jan has a kind word or a compliment for each of them in typical Jan fashion. She's utterly unflappable, even in the face of the most flapping of circumstances.
"Maybe we'll hear Kitty now and Jan can hear Emma again after?" Phil suggests. Kitty nods and walks towards the drum kit. Natasha can see the tension in her shoulders, the way she walks a little too rigid. She's still terrified of fucking up, which Nat thinks is a tad disappointing, if totally understandable.
She sits on the stool and closes her eyes. Natasha picks up her guitar and points to an amp for Jan to plug hers in.
"Oh, fuck, I forgot my sticks!" Kitty looks ready to throw up. Natasha looks to Clint for an assist.
Clint chuckles, sitting up a little straighter on the couch. "Use mine, there's a basket on your left."
Kitty grabs some sticks and glances at the tab again. "I, um. Can't really read sheet music... If you start playing, I should be able to pick it up."
Maria mutters something under her breath and from where Nat's standing, it looks like Jean is doing the same thing. Phil's face is unreadable though, and Natasha knows he wouldn't have brought her if he didn't think she could perform. Nat's not worried.
Jan counts them in and they start into Don't Ask The Ocean. Kitty picks it up after a few seconds, smooth and rolling, the perfect accompaniment to the song. Originally, it had been a soft song, relying on the piano for the most of its power. They haven't played it since Peggy left, mostly because they weren't sure how it would even sound. It takes on a new life with Kitty's percussion, so much stronger than they had imagined it. Nat sings loud, gives the vocals a raw edge and suddenly it's not a soft, dreamy lullaby. It turns into kind of an anthem.
Even Maria has a little smile by the end of it.
"So?" Natasha asks after the song's over and they pull away from the group to confer.
Jan's nodding excitedly. "She was great, I've never heard that song sounding so fierce. Maria?"
"I didn't hate it."
Natasha sighs. "You didn't hate it? You have to give us a little more here."
"No, that's good, not hating it is good," Jan says, patting Maria on the arm. "I know how much you've been hating on that song since..."
"You can say since when, it's not like I don't remember her breaking up with me." Maria flicks Jan in the hand. "It was eight months ago."
"Since Peggy dumped you," Nat says.
"You cried so much you were sure your eyes were going to fall out and you stole my Wayfarers and never gave them back. Do you even still have those?" Jan asks, following Natasha's lead.
"No, I broke them. On purpose. Because I hate you both."
Nat smirks. "Because I had such an attachment to Jan's sunglasses."
"Can we just sign Miss Shredded Jeans and send the other two home?" Maria asks, talking probably louder than she should be.
"No, we're hearing them all. Then we'll talk it over with Phil and take a day to think about it," Nat says firmly.
"Yeah, we owe them at least that," Jan agrees.
"Not them, us. The band."
Natasha doesn't mean for it to sound profound, but it kind of does and Jan and Maria look solemn. "Okay then," Maria agrees. "For the band. Let's get this done. Windy City Rumble next?"
Jean doesn't wow them, which Natasha is secretly super happy about. It's not that she was flirting with Tony, except it a little bit is about that, and she'd looked so sulky when she came in that Natasha is just getting a weird vibe. So she's a little relieved when Jean argues with Jan about being too fast (she was) and calls it Jan's fault (it's not). Plus, Jean and Jan? That would get confusing fast.
Emma plays again, a little more confident than before, probably taking a few tips from watching the others play. All in all, it's a pretty good audition. Any apprehensions she has about the line up change seem to be gone.
"Thanks, all of you, so much. We're going to talk it over with Phil and get back to you tomorrow, okay?"
Tony and Phil walk the ladies out while the band gathers around on the couch to talk it out. "Is there even any point to kicking you out so we can talk in private?" Maria asks, nudging Clint over so she could spread her legs out.
"Nope, sorry." He gives her a patronizing smile and lets her kick her feet up on him. "Nat texts me play-by-plays of her life anyway, so at best you'd be keeping me from hearing for a whole forty seconds."
Natasha doesn't even need to deny it.
"I liked Kitty," Jan says. "They were all good, but she was better."
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
"Good band meeting," says Clint. "I'm actually a little in awe. Our band meetings last hours and only end when everyone is rum-soaked and Thor breaks something expensive of Tony's and Bruce has to break up a fist fight with his daddy voice."
Maria shrugs. "We don't play games when our musical integrity is on the line."
"Integrity? What a swear word."
Natasha considers lying back on the plush carpet and listening to Maria and Clint snipe at each other all night until she remembers Pepper is at home colour coding their sock drawers and waiting for movie night.
"Jan, you want to come over tonight? Pepper picked a movie."
"Pepper?" Tony says, coming back just in time to catch the tail end of Natasha's question. "How's she doing, anyway?"
Natasha looks at Maria while Maria looks at Jan. It's been a few days since Pepper told him she was breaking it off and Natasha knows they haven't spoken since. When Natasha glances over at Jan, she's looking back. "She's fine," Nat says after an extra long pause.
"Ah. Good." He looks uncomfortable, so Natasha feels it's a job well done. "I figured she'd call. Not me, but like. My secretary or something. To let us know when she's coming back. To work, I mean. But she... didn't call."
"She's good, really," she says, because suddenly he's looking too uncomfortable, maybe even sad. She didn't know Tony Stark could feel things. "Not great, but... okay."
"Okay. Tell her... Tell her I'm okay too. No, don't tell her that. Say that I said hi. Or..."
"Don't say anything," Clint advises. "No one say anything."
"Ever again, if we can all help it," Maria chimes in. After six years of friendship and careful observation, Natasha's come to the conclusion that if Maria doesn't stretch her sarcasm muscles every fifteen seconds, they start to atrophy.
Phil comes in behind Tony a few moments later, walking right into the quiet tension and carefully ignoring it. He leans on the arm of the couch and looks pretty pleased with himself. "So, how was that? Not too painful, I hope?"
"You did good, Phil," Jan says. "We like Kitty. Can we sign her?"
"I'll call tomorrow. You're still looking to have her play with you on Saturday, right? If she works out in practice this week, of course. Where is the gig again?"
Natasha mimes for him to pass her his phone, which he does. She plugs the address of the club into the map feature. "The Dapper Dingo. Up on the north side, Walker Road. There, it's in your phone. We go on at ten fifteen."
"Excellent. Natasha, here are the papers I mentioned over the phone." Phil rummages in his bag for an envelope while Jan and Maria watch on in interest.
"What kind of paperwork is this? Are we getting a raise?" Jan leans forward on her knees.
"Actually, yes. I've negotiated a one point seven five percent increase in royalties from album sales in the next six months with room for more if you keep selling. I've still got to go over the tour details with Fury and The Ultimates' manager at next week's meeting." Phil's expression is mostly impassive, but Natasha thinks she can see a flicker of pride.
"This is a contract about you," she says once she's glanced at the first few paragraphs. "Signing you officially as our manager."
"I brought a pen in case you need one," Phil says. He holds out a pen with a small smile.
Natasha crowds closer to Maria as Jan leans over her shoulder so they can all read the contract. "This is actually... super reasonable," Jan says after the first page.
"Thank you. I wrote it myself," Phil says.
Natasha's cell phone rings as she signs. She passes the pen to Maria, and gets up to take the call away from the group.
"Pepper?"
"Hi Nat. Um. Are you guys still at Tony's?"
"Yeah, what's up? Are you okay?"
Pepper sighs and Natasha hears the scrape of a chair and a soft murmur. "Yes, of course, fine. I was just thinking..." Pepper says finally.
"Thinking what?"
"Don't leave yet, I'm coming down."
"Coming down?"
"Stairs. I'm in the kitchen with Jarvis. I'll be right down." Pepper hangs up before Natasha can ask any more questions.
"Whatever is about to happen, can we be cool about it?" she mutters to Maria and Jan when she rejoins them on the couch. They both give her puzzled looks, but Natasha doesn't know what to tell them.
Pepper opens the door and comes in without knocking a minute or two later.
"Pepper." Tony's on his feet instantly, looking shocked and guilty, and Natasha feels almost a little bad about not warning him. Especially when she sees the little glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"Hi Tony. I heard there were auditions here tonight? I want to try out."
Natasha looks between Tony and Pepper again, looking for... she's not sure what. Some kind of fireworks, anyway.
"You drum?" Maria asks. It's either a clever diversion from the tension in the room or Maria doesn't care about the tension and is just trying to figure out how long Pepper's been a secret musician. Actually, that's something Natasha wouldn't mind finding out either.
Pepper walks over to the drum kit and plucks two sticks out of the basket. "Sure. And I'm not half bad, right Clint?"
"You knew? And you didn't suggest her?" Natasha turns to stare at Clint. "Asshole."
Clint waves his hands in surrender. "I didn't realize it was something you actually, you know... liked to do, Pepper. I thought it was just your way of burning off the stress of putting up with him," Clint says, jerking a thumb at Tony.
He receives a mix of looks, ranging from withering to amused to annoyed. "What? Drumming is very cathartic."
"Okay, Miss... Potts, was it? I think it's fair that you get a chance. You showed up like the others." Phil smiles his little unassuming smile again and if Tony could shoot daggers from his eyes, Phil would be dead a hundred times.
Pepper smiles gratefully at him and sits down at the drum kit. "Okay, I think I know everything off your first album pretty well. What do you want to play?"
Maria is grinning to herself while she ruffles through the pages of drum tab. "How about In Transit?"
"That one's going to sound amazing," Clint says. "Tried it while I was writing you the music for it. Pretty fantastic."
Everyone makes general noises of agreement -- except Tony who takes a seat next to Clint on the couch and is just watching. Natasha can feel the intensity in his eyes like it's a living, moving creature in the room. If Pepper feels rattled by him, she's not showing it, which is infinitely impressive.
Natasha picks up her guitar and slings the strap around her shoulder. "Okay, Pepper, count us in?"
"One, two, three, four!"
They play and Natasha sings and it feels pretty damn good. Pepper's not as good as Kitty; close, but not quite. Natasha could tell Kitty had been playing for a while, probably lifelong, if self-taught. Pepper doesn't have any of that. Pepper just has... soul.
If she’d started playing as Tony Stark related stress relief, then it makes all kinds of sense why she plays like her options are drum or homicide.
But when it comes down to it, Natasha reflects as they enter the last chorus, their new drummer is someone they have to connect with and live with for however long the tour is going to last for. Nat had heard the phrase 'four or five months' used more than once. Kitty seems like a great person, but Nat has only known her for forty-five minutes. She's known Pepper for four years and she knows they all get along.
Natasha is already looking at the others as she hits the last chord; Jan is dancing on the spot, getting caught up in the strap of her guitar in her excitement, and is about to speak, and Natasha gets why, because she's just as excited, but it's Maria who beats both of them to it.
"Not bad," says Maria.
Jan's bangs are all out of place, half of the sticking up from where the guitar strap hasn't quite cleared her head. "Pepper, that was awesome." She finally wrestles it off and sets down the guitar before she half-vaults over an amp to get to Pepper, throwing her arms around her.
Pepper smiles and tries to put her arms up around Jan's shoulders, demonstrating for everyone the awkwardness of the half-sitting/half-standing hug. "Thanks."
Natasha thinks she looks a little drained -- clearly the drums were a cathartic experience for her. "It was great, Pepper." She looks at Jan, standing behind Pepper. Jan nods enthusiastically. She glances over to Maria, who nods almost imperceptibly.
She wants to do it, to tell Pepper on the spot that she's in, but Natasha has some reservations. She feels like a jerk for having reservations, but she's been the de facto leader of the band basically since they started and it's her job to have reservations even when no one else does.
"So... We'll let everyone know tomorrow?" she says, looking between Pepper and Phil. "Now, didn't we have a movie night planned?"
"Oh, we're so watching Top Gun," Maria says quickly.
"You always vote Top Gun, I hate Top Gun," Natasha says. "I told Pepper to pick."
"... I actually like Top Gun," Pepper says after a second, and then, upon seeing Natasha's expression, "but I can pick something else!"
Jan and Maria start packing up and discussing the finer plot points of Top Gun versus any other movie. Pepper is still sitting on the little stool behind the drums, trying to look anywhere that isn't at Tony. Tony's not making it easy on her, either. He's staring at her like she's the only thing in existence. Maybe for Tony, she is. Natasha ignores that line of thought because it seems far too sad. She looks over at Clint, who's spinning a drumstick in one hand like he does when he's thinking hard about something.
She gives him the look that says 'secret talk later?' and he gives her a nod in return.
Natasha smiles at Phil while she puts her own guitar away. "Thanks for everything tonight, Phil; we'll call you tomorrow with our final decision."
"Of course. I'm sure you'll make the right one, too. See you at eight on Saturday at the club." He leaves after a formal goodnight to the rest of the room.
"I like him," Jan says after a few seconds, probably making sure he's out of earshot. "I didn't think I'd like any kind of manager, but he's okay.”
"Yeah, he's definitely the second best manager Fury's got," Tony agrees.
"If you say 'for the second best band', I will actually --" Maria starts, but Tony waves a hand to cut her off.
"I would never, I think I have a little more class than that."
"Class? Yeah, that's the first word that comes to mind when I think Tony Stark."
"Oh ho, so you do think of me?"
Natasha doesn't bother to interrupt the Maria/Tony bickering; she's afraid she might get cut by a wayward tongue if she does. Sometimes it's best to let them tire themselves out like sulky toddlers. Besides, it's like a nice, familiar song by this point. Comforting, almost, if not for the occasional string of curses that would make a sailor blush (usually from Maria, a champion curser in three languages).
"Well, I guess that's why they call you Stark then, isn't it?" Maria says, sounding particularly triumphant.
"Wow," Tony says, hand over his heart. "You're too much for me sometimes, Hill. Good night ladies, I bid you all a fond farewell, but I need to go cry in the shower because I'll never be as witty as your shrew of a bass player."
The shrew remark doesn't even make Maria bat an eye. "Goodnight, Tony, thanks for letting us use your house," she says, voice dripping with sweetness.
They finish packing up without any more major distractions and head back to Nat and Maria's apartment.
"I'll make popcorn. Or do we want take-out? My treat," Jan asks. She's got her hopeful eyes on, so Nat nods.
"I could eat. Menus in the top right drawer in the kitchen. I need to make a quick call --"
"To widdle Clint-snookums?"
"To Clint, shut up Maria, so I'll be right back."
"I swear, those two might as well be --"
Natasha doesn't hear the rest of what Maria thinks they should be because she shuts the bathroom door.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"So. How do you feel about tonight? You know there are other drummers out there, right, and you can shop around? You don't have to pick from the very first four."
"Where are you?" she asks. "You sound weird."
"Walking home, it's windy."
"Tony didn't offer you a lift in one of his multiple cars?"
"Tony wanted me to stay and drink with him. Seeing Pep again did a number on him, I think."
Natasha sighs. "I almost feel bad for the guy."
"I do feel bad for the guy. It's weird, I don't normally..." Clint trails off. "So you're going with Pepper?"
"Yeah, I think so. We really liked Kitty --"
"Meeow."
"You're gross. We liked Kitty, but Pepper is Pepper."
"She sure is," Clint agrees. "And she's got chops. But..."
"Exactly. But." Natasha hates saying it, even thinking it, but Pepper wasn't the best drummer, not by a long shot, even if she’s right for the band.
"This is a conversation we had before, right. Do you go with the great drummer you don't know and who might be a clown murderer, or the amazing person you like who isn't the Clintiest drummer around."
"Clintiest?"
"Yeah, it means like... superlative, but only when referencing drummers and other drum-related activities." He sounds really proud of himself.
"... Wow, Clint. Is 'superlative' your fifty dollar word of the day? And okay, so what would you do in my place?"
"Honestly?"
"Of course honestly."
"I have no idea."
"Infinitely helpful, thank god I have you around. We're going with Pepper."
Natasha can hear his smile. "Good call."
"But she's going to rock star drummer boot camp with you."
"Going to... Yeah? You want me to teach her the way of the steady beating hawk?"
"Let's pretend that's a thing, and say yes. She's got great instincts, we just want... a little more polish on it, I guess. I'll mention to her and our manager, and they can set something up. If you want to. If she wants to." She adds the last bit as an afterthought. Generally, Clint will do anything she asks him, just like she'll do anything he asks, but she makes a point to always ask.
"It'll be tight with The Ultimates' schedule, but if Pepper's up for committing to the solo practice time between sessions, we can make it work. And honestly, it won't take much. I see much talent in that young padawan. Get Fury to put up for a new kit and I'm in. I'd lend her one of my old ones, but I think she deserves better stuff."
"Definitely. Okay, Clint, we'll set something up tomorrow. You think you have enough time between now and the tour to bring her up to speed?"
"You know I can. I'm the Clintiest."
There's a long pause and she can practically hear Clint trying to piece together what he's going to say next, which means it's going to be important. He's great at babbling, but he can do thoughtful when he needs to. "I'm really proud of you, Nat. You guys sounded awesome tonight, all of you, and I think you're dealing with this whole change-the-band-and-go-on-tour thing really well."
It's all true, of course, but hearing him say it made it more real. Natasha is proud of them too and somehow a thousand times less nervous now that someone besides her acknowledges it. "Thanks."
"I'm home now, you don't have to stay on the line to make sure I don't get mugged."
"Oh, I'm sure you could handle yourself. You are the Clintiest."
"Love you, Nat."
"Love you too, champ." She defuses the emotional moment with the most obnoxious nickname she can think of at the moment, and she hears him laugh, short and happy. They understand each other better than they understand themselves sometimes, Natasha thinks before she hangs up.
When she cuddles into the couch between Jan and Pepper, Natasha feels good. Not just 'it's nice to be off my feet after a long day' or 'thank god this hassle is over', but a deep down, all over, good feeling.
Halfway through the movie of choice that night (Batman Returns, both for the Michelle Pfeiffer and the terrible 90s effects), they pause for a bathroom break and to pay the pizza guy and assemble their midnight feast. Pepper is not only a stress-organizer, it turns out, but also a stress-baker.
"I will never love another person the way I love brownies," Jan declares, putting her body between the pan and Natasha's reaching fingers.
"That reminds me," Pepper says. "I saw your boyfriend at the coffee shop today."
Jan blushes bright red. "He's not my boyfriend."
Maria snorts. "Right, of course not. Because it's complicated, right?"
"It is!"
Jan's been telling them it's complicated and nothing more than that for weeks. Natasha doesn't even know who the man in question is. The fact that Pepper does though, that is very interesting.
"I'm changing the subject. This is me, changing the subject," Jan says, pushing the pan of brownies into Natasha's lap as a very obvious peace offering. "How freakin' awesome was tonight though?"
Maria comes in with a bottle of ginger ale in one hand and a bottle of rye in the other. "I'll admit, we sound better with some percussion than I thought we would." Natasha nods along.
"I'm happy," says Pepper after a moment and a swig of ginger ale and passing along the rye. "I'm proud of you guys for going for it."
"Well, we're --"
Maria cuts Jan off with a wave of her hand. "Don't give away any of our secrets. We haven't even initiated her yet."
Pepper looks between them. "Wait. Initiated?"
"You can't be in the band until we initiate you, Pepper." Maria smirks when Pepper tries to flail without dropping the bottle of soda. "What, you don't want to be in the band?"
"Of course I do! I just thought... You’d gone with one of the other girls."
"But you're our Pepper," Jan reminds her. "We love our Pepper."
"There are conditions," Natasha says, always the pragmatist. "But we want you, Pepper. If you want to go and live on a tour bus with us with only a few weeks rehearsal time."
Pepper sighs a deep sigh, but it sounds happy. "I want that very much, I think. Um. Tony won't be on the same bus, right?"
Maria snorts an undignified laugh. "Not a chance."
"Then yes. I think joining a rock and roll band is exactly the change of pace I need right now."
Jan laughs, absolutely delighted, and scoops a chunk of brownie out of the pan. "That's one sexy mid-life crisis. Especially if it comes with brownies."
Natasha smiles. She knows this is the beginning of something really special.