Have u ever written an ironhawk fic where clint go spy on tony instead of nat ? If not please write it ! I luv ur work !
With a groan Clint landed on the floor beside the huge ventilator. “Next time,” he moaned, “I get to seduce the rich guy.” He knew that not only the IMF team listened but also Phil and Nat. After all, he was sent to make sure the IMF could handle the Cobalt situation.
He could hear Ethan chuckle and Nat snigger through his special comm unit that connected him to both, his actual team and the one he was sent to support. He had no idea that he got his chance only a few months later.
The IMF had solved the Cobalt situation, they stopped the nuclear missile and Clint was called back to SHIELD. They had a mission according to his wishes Coulson had said and smirked evilly.
“You want me to what?” Clint asked disbelievingly and stared at the file in his hand.
“We want you to go undercover in Stark Industries,” Phil repeated. “You’re going to be a notary in their legal department, Clay Barrowman. And maybe you manage to get… a little closer.”
“A little closer?” Clint frowned and Phil nodded at the file in his hand.
“Tony Stark swings both ways,” he said. “And you’re exactly his type.”
“Why don’t you send Natasha?” he asked and Phil took a deep breath.
“Do you really think another red-head in his life would do the trick?”
Clint shook his head. “Probably not.”
“Right,” Phil said. “You start your assignment in three days.”
Clint took the file and rose. He had work to do to get into his new role.
“Tony,” Pepper called. “I’m going to ask you just this one time to sign over your company.”
Clint entered the gym, a folder in his hand, and saw Tony Stark in a boxing ring, together with his driver slash bodyguard slash gofer Happy Hogan. He took in the scenery and the two men in the ring stopped for a moment and watched him walk over to Ms. Potts. He wore a dark gray suit, the pants a little tight in the right places, a light gray shirt and a dark purple tie. He could literally feel Stark’s eyes on him when he walked through the room.
“I need your signature here and here,” Clint said, opened the folder and showed Ms. Potts where to sign. She did and he looked up to see Stark scrutinize him.
“Who are you?” he asked and Clint turned to Stark now.
“Clay Barrowman,” he said. “And I need your signature, Mr. Stark.”
Stark left the ring, a bottle with weird green stuff in his hand, and went to him. “Do you box?”
“Not in a while,” Clint said and Stark gestured at the ring where Hogan waited and stared at him disbelievingly.
Clint removed his suit jacket and entered the ring where Hogan talked to him, but he didn’t listen. He held Stark and Potts in his eyes and he saw Stark just google his profile. They would soon find the photos from his faked acting career and he knew he had them when Stark just whistled through his teeth.
Hogan moved behind him and Clint reacted on instinct. He grabbed his arm, twisted it around and had him on the floor in two seconds. Hogan yelped and slapped the floor three times and Clint let him up.
“What the fuck was that?” Hogan muttered.
“I want one,” Stark just said when Clint turned to leave the ring again.
“Oh no,” Potts protested but Stark just rose and went to him.
“Do you like it in legal?” he asked and Clint shrugged.
“I had worse jobs,” he said and smiled and Stark licked his lips.
“Well, Mr. Barrowman,” he said. “My former personal assistant just got promoted and… what do you think about a new job?”
“Tony, no! I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Potts said again but Stark ignored her.
“What do you say?”
“Yeah,” Clint smiled. “I’d like that.”
“Well then,” Stark patted his shoulder. “See you tomorrow morning, Mr. Barrowman.”
“Until tomorrow, then.”