lt_col_rhodes | OTA: Dinner of CHampions

Rhodey didn't know what anyone else was up to, he'd heard Tony had gotten an uninvited guest and who it was, but he hadn't really seen most the folks in the house.

He wondered if it was the lack of trust Tony had for folks in general or the childish glee at 'collecting them all' that made Tony move everyone into the house with him. Or if it was maybe trying to contain collateral damage when one of the bad guys inevitably went after folks' loved ones? Tony's could take care of himself, but he didn't know if any of the other's had loved one's who couldn't.

Debating between making dinner, and watching a movie, he decided to do bother He made a chicken parmigiana that could sometimes even tempt Tony out of the workshop, so he started putting together enough of that to feed a regiment, while catching up with Jarvis. That should probably be enough food to feed anyone who found him, hopefully. Well that and maybe a salad? Been a long time since he'd had time and the excuse to make decorative garnishes. Wasn't quite what the military had Lt Colonel's doing after all. But he was on leave and he had time to kill so decorative salad garnishes would keep his hands in for finicky repairs.

He'd turn on a movie after he had dinner ready. He hadn't seen the latest Fast and Furious movie yet after all.

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It had been a hard weekend, and Clint's thoughts were as dark and sad as they been since that terrible day. Maybe it was Loki's proximity, or maybe it was just that Clint had been an asshole to two people who he respected and cared about. And Natasha, Clint felt ultimately responsible for Natasha's rage. Arg.

But his body needed fuel and his own cupboards were as bare as that old nursery rhyme. His stomach rumbled with hunger and he headed into the kitchen to find something to eat. There was something cooking, and someone sitting down eating.

"Hello," he said, opening up the fridge and pulling out his orange juice.

"There's vodka in the cabinet to your left," Rhodey told the other man. He looked like a few miles of bad road had been taken out of him. Orange juice and vodka wasn't his preferred poison, he preferred it neat. His Daddy had always bitched that if you couldn't handle straight alcohol why were you drinking it. "I'm Rhodey. You?"

Clint nodded at the other man's statement, but just poured himself a glass, leaning against the counter as he drank some of it.

"Barton, Clint Barton." Clint gave Rhodey a little smile, the best he could offer right now. "You a friend of Stark's?"

"The friend, next to Pep," Rhodey said. "Known him since he was a punk prodigy in MIT. Now he's a punk kid saving the world." Rhodey was quietly amused at this. If Tony didn't fuck this up it'd be the making of him. Who knows he might even show up to his own award ceremonies when they harassed Rhodey into giving him the awards.

"You going to be a friend of his?" For Rhodey, that was the question. He'd watched folks take Tony for rides simply because he was the richest son of a bitch running, and Tony had let them. He knew Tony had changed since they discovered the Stane on his record but that didn't make Rhodey worry less.

"We work together," Clint said, drinking from his glass. He could appreciate Tony's friend watching out for him, and imagined that Natasha would have that sort of watch dog mentality regarding people sniffing around him.

Then he chuckled, a little of that dark mood lifting. "I'd like to think that we'll be friends one day." Then, curious, "Are you staying here as well?"

"I'm here for a bit, leave don't last forever," Rhodey said. "And who knows, maybe longer, if the Armed Forces decide this Avengers thing is something they need a liaison on Tony again with. God knows he goes through them like water unless they assign me to him. There's plates in the cabinet, and I made enough food for a regiment." And he cut the salad vegetables into flowers and shit, but he wasn't pointing that one out.

Clint gave him another smile, murmuring a 'thanks' and scooped himself up a plate of food. He sat down at the table, then began eating. "This is great," he said, genuinely liking the food.

"I thought Stark wasn't in the weapons business anymore," he asked, reaching for some salad.

"Thanks, don't get a chance to cook often," Rhodey admitted. "He's not. Which is why I'm stuck teaching, and well, other things, rather than liaising."

"What do you teach?" Clint asked, taking another bite. He was hungrier than he thought.

"Teach the folks to fly those jets," Rhodey explained. "Use those weapons we got designed, and protect our people." He liked his job, even when it was make-work. "Sometimes I get to do some tactical response with my students and try to identify rogue Stark craft." He wasn't going to bring up War Machine if no one else did. Didn't know if Tony wanted to keep that as an ace in his back pocket and he hadn't enough experience with the SHIELD folks to know whether or not they knew everything. Probably did but he wasn't out to volunteer information unless pressed.

He sometimes wondered what that would be like, trying to explain his skill set to others, get them emulate him. Not something you could describe in a classroom, exactly, but he admired people who could teach others.

Barton had read a little about Stark's life, and remembered seeing a notation about this guy. He liked to try and identify the man's armed forces designation by his manner and word choice. This one was tough, though. "Air Force?" he asked, curious.

"Yes," Rhodey nodded. "Few more years and I can retire. Don't know if I will, but I can." If he did, he knew he probably would just go to work with Tony and Pepper, but he preferred to keep his position as long as he could. Have to have someone who had Tony's back in the armed forces. Whether or not he decided to go back to manufacturing weapons, with the advent of these Avengers, he foresaw more problems, not less.

"What about you? Special forces obviously."

"Yeah," Clint nodded, sitting back as he finished his plate. "Green berets, two tours in Afghanistan before I got was recruited." He'd always be glad for that time, the way the army trained him and prepared him for this life he had now.

"What will you do once you retire?" he asked, picking up his plate and taking it to the sink. He grabbed a bag of cookies and took it to the table, offering some to the other man.

"Not bad, I did a couple tours in Iraq before Tony got his ass set up as as important as his father...and even more likely to go through liaisons." Once they'd figured out that the two of them had gone to MIT together, Rhodey was the only one they thought would last in the position and he was flung without any sort of preparation. It had been fun though, learning to balance his loyalties, and helping Pepper when he could.

"Work with Tony probably. Join his engineering department, or help Pep out," Rhodey did't really have any other ideas. Besides, the more he drove home Tony was his top priority the better. "What about you?"

It sounded as if they were close. "Me?" he asked, laughing. "I don't know, stay with S.H.I.E.L.D. as long as I'm useful. After that..." Clint shrugged, having another cookie.

Then an image in his head of Miss Elizabeth, watching Steve, and Clint winced internally. "I'm not sure about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s retirement plan. Not everyone lives to old age."

"The age old question," Rhodey nodded. "What else do I have to offer once my eye or reflexes are shot?" Pilots faced that more often than anyone wanted to admit. He was lucky, had a fallback, but a lot of good men didn't.

"Neither does the Air Force, but we still have pension plans...which turn into very nice settlements for our families...if we have any." His was already slated to go half to Tony's charities, and half to his own personal choices.

"If we have any," Clint repeated, nodding. It was a familiar tune. Clint never thought about his pension plan. Didn't think much about the future, to be honest. Bad habit from spending too much time with Natasha, they lived only for the moment.

But right now, the moment was getting late. "Thanks for dinner, it was great," he said, standing and taking the cookies with him. "See you around," he added, heading off toward his rooms.

OTA: Dinner of CHampions

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