|Reviews for The Avengers Time Bomb Initiative|
| Nessie-san chapter 12 . 7/11/2015
I... sometimes when I finish a fic, I feel this overwhelming contentment (as you know from one of my previous comments). Often, that contentment is accompanied by this sense of loss, because I really wanted another chapter, or a sequel, and there isn't one. This one has that sense of loss. (In other words, PLEASE WRITE A SEQUEL, or something similar because I wanna see Coulson and Clint get married, and I wanna see the Avengers at the wedding, and I just... ;asdlfkajsdf;laksdfj;asldfkja;sdlfkjasd;flaksdjf;asldkfja;sdflkajsd;flkasjdfka SO MUCH IN THIS UNIVERSE! *w*
| doctorjay chapter 12 . 9/5/2013
You made me look up Prince Albert. I may never recover.
| Grey Panther chapter 12 . 7/27/2013
Thanks for this awesome story! I loved the last chapter in particular. Will there be a sequel?
| annettechanelle1 chapter 1 . 6/17/2013
ok so i really want to read this! but it contains spoilers for what? spoliers to the movie "the avengers"? or spoilers to future movies such as the second avengers.
| Eavis chapter 3 . 2/26/2013
I just laughed for 12349876723847 years because Moonsong.
| Marz1 chapter 1 . 11/29/2012
Good start! Everyone is in character and there isnt really a plot yet but its kind of funny.
| ORgasmicPigeon chapter 2 . 11/8/2012
Take that gentle woodland creatures!
| killing u with umbrellas chapter 12 . 10/22/2012
| Mouse-size-Dragon chapter 12 . 9/17/2012
I love how they saved Coulson (and apparently didn't tell Fury) and worked as a team. Loved this whole thing.
| Crystal M. Key chapter 12 . 9/12/2012
This story was hilarious and random and touching and awesome. I adore how you explained Clint's terrible, terrible costume choices. I'm going to remember that whenever I get around to writing him. I also like how you explained Cap's reaction to sexuality in the future (present), because it usually irritates me when writers just magically make him magically reconciled with everything, or retroactively make him any type of not-straight and oh, it's okay in the future? Well then. (Please realize that I'm not trying to bash anyone; I'm bisexual myself. Steve just grew up in an era that is very, VERY different from today; I have no idea how my grandparents would react if I told them, mostly because they passed years ago. But I digress.) Clint's song reminded me of the song "Miss Suzie had a steamboat"; I was amused. The pi bit made me nerd out. Thanks! The Voldemort part made me cackle. And Clint's taquitos thing reminds me of Deadpool and chimichangas. It's such a great word to say. Chimichanga. *giggle* Ohmigod, nobody would beat Thor at the Chubby Bunny game. And what happened the last time Tony was lost in space? Was he lost in time, too? The coin-flip for conversations was amusing. Thanks for the great story! I hope you update soon! Favorite quotes:
Clint Barton sat on the port side of the Helicarrier, his legs hanging over the side. He was looking down through a pair of high tech binoculars, an egg in his hand.
Natasha watched him perch that way, perfectly still, for almost fifteen minutes before she spoke. "What are you looking for?"
She sat down next to him, cross legged, a few inches back from the edge.
Clint opened his hand and let the egg drop. It was almost a minute before he let out a satisfied whoop. "Some asshole is going to have a hell of a story about his commute.
"Hand me another egg."
Tony patted Steve's forearm and amiably said, "We're gonna go poke the Hulk with a stick. Want to come?"
They settled in to the jumpseats into the back of the jet as Barton finished up his pre-takeoff checklist. It was sweltering outside, and he had hung his flack vest over the door. This revealed his shirt.
"What's that?" Tony pointed at Clint's torso.
Clint was wearing a pale linen shirt, vertically striped in different shades of green. It looked oddly feminine. "It's a shirt, Stark. I know your servants usually dress you, but I would have thought you'd at least know the names for different kinds of clothing.
"I'm not quite sure about modern fashion," began Steve, "but-"
Natasha shook her head at Steve. "Don't use him as an example of how to dress. Clint is…do you know the expression 'trailer trash'?"
"I am not trailer trash!" yelled Clint over his shoulder.
"You lived in a trailer," answered Natasha, "and it was full of trash."
"It wasn't a trailer," argued Clint. "It was a crooked ring toss game. And it wasn't full of trash. Those were prizes."
Natasha turned to Steve with an eyebrow raised. "He thinks this is somehow supporting his argument."
"Why did you live in a ring toss game?" asked Steve.
"I was a carnie. And the Tilt-o-Whirl got lumpy."
Bruce half-smiled again. "Well, it's like this. My parents were both physicians. And they were both hippies."
"Hippies who named you Bruce?" said Tony skeptically.
"Bruce is a family name. My middle name is Moonsong."
"Wait, what?" Clint swiveled around from the front of the plane.
"Eyes on the road," answered Tony.
Steve froze for a moment before turning to face Tony. "Wait. Would this be an appropriate time to say, 'that's what she said'?"
"Yes!" Tony leapt up and hugged him. "Yes! Brilliant! My little Stevie's growing up!"
While Tony and Bruce returned to their real-grownup-science-stuff, Clint rifled through the refrigerator, singing absently to himself. He just wanted a goddamn sandwich, but apparently rich people ate weird food.
"There was an old farmer who lived on a rock / He sat in the meadow just shaking his / Fist at some boys who were down by the crick / Their feet in the water, their hands on their / Marbles and playthings and…what the fuck is liverwurst?"
Steve chuckled. "You sort of remind me of my old friend, Bucky."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Clint found a jar pickles and decided that was familiar enough to eat.
"It's a…he was a very good man. He knew all these dirty marching chants and jokes and rhymes, but he also knew all these ones that started dirty but really weren't. So if I ever told him to clean up his language, he would get all mock offended." Steve put on a different voice, a little higher, smoother, and more nasal than his own. "Rogers, I was only going to say that she has a nice front, you know, as opposed to a side view. Were you thinking-? Oh! You have a real dirty mind, Rogers."
"You're blushing, man."
Steve looked to the side and got redder.
"You need a quick ride out of the city?" asked Tony. "Because you look fine to me."
Bruce shook his head, smirking shyly. "I'm not actually feeling green. I just thought it was the quickest way to break that fight up."
"Clever, clever. I knew I liked you."
Bruce saw a skunk nosing at some juniper berries and momentarily entertained the possibility of using it defensively, but no, this wasn't real danger and he wasn't going to start weaponizing small mammals.
"I spent most of my time running around pretending to be Godzilla."
"Giant lizard. Usually ends up destroying Tokyo. Sometimes hangs out with Mothra."
"Giant moth. Usually ends up destroying Tokyo."
"I see." Steve had the squinty look again. "Does it bother you, being this way?"
"Just say 'gay', man. It's not like saying Voldemort."
Steve had no idea who or what 'Voldemort' was, but he pressed on. "Does it bother you to be gay?"
"Good morning, Pepper," Tony smarmed into the phone. "I don't like this bed."
"Well I do like it, so you're not getting a new one."
"Oh!" he said in a eureka tone of voice. "That's what's wrong with the bed! No Pepper."
"I miss you too."
"Have I mentioned how beautiful you are?"
"Oh god, what have you done?"
"I've got one," said Bruce softly. "There's a classic prank where you fill little Dixie cups with water and you put them on the floor in a grid, tightly packed enough that no one can walk through without tipping them over. I did something like that, but in a smaller area. I used the school's staircase landings, because they were better ventilated. I used vinegar instead of water and I dusted the floor with baking soda, so when someone kicked over a cup, the floor started to hiss and bubble. Everyone panicked. It was pretty funny."
Tony clapped Bruce on the back. "See, see, I knew you had it in you. That is some grade A material, my friend."
"Clint, why don't you tell them about the time you met Ronald Reagan?"
"The actor?" asked Steve.
"No, the ex-president," said Clint.
"You're talking about the same person," said Natasha.
"He was president?" asked Steve at the same time Clint asked, "He was an actor?"
"Did you ever memorize…I mean, how many digits of pi do you know?" Bruce grinned shyly, as if this were a secret sort of question and he was delighted to finally have someone to ask.
"You know what sequence I loved when I was a kid?" Tony put on a nasal, electronic voice, "Self-destruct sequence initiated…ten…nine…eight…" He switched back to his regular voice and chuckled. "I got so many classes cancelled that way."
"Well, that's really fucking depressing. I'd say I'd buy you a drink, but I hear that doesn't work for you. Maybe we can go out for taquitos."
Steve raised an eyebrow. He wasn't exactly sure what taquitos were and he didn't really see the connection.
"I always assume taquitos will help." Clint shrugged. "They're delicious."
"Your efforts are touching," said Natasha stirring sugar into her coffee. "Of course, they're not accomplishing anything because we have no way to force Loki to lift the curse."
"You're not, um," said Bruce, "You're not big on the power of positive thinking, are you?"
"I believe in reality."
"Really? Because periodically I turn into a green idiot who somehow has four times my mass." Bruce pointed to Steve and Thor across the room. "That guy's ninety years old and that guy's a space alien who can speak Shakespearean English with a mouth full of stale Peeps. I think reality went out for some smokes a couple decades back. I'm just along for the ride."
"I left my soldering iron right here," said Tony. "Who moved my soldering iron?"
"I did," said Natasha. "I don't like flammable electronic devices resting on gas stoves."
"What? Why? It's probably lost! Lonely! It misses me!" Tony cupped his hands around his mouth and called, "Here little soldering iron! Heeeeeere little soldering iron!"
Clint had spent hundreds of hours in SHIELD's crawlspaces and air ducts, enough time that Psych had once threatened to ground him if he didn't submit to an agoraphobia eval. Psych was full of assholes, idiots, and asshole-idiots. Clint wasn't agoraphobic; he was training. He was always training. The fact that it was fun to burst out at random intervals and terrify the junior agents was secondary. Really, it was.
"All right then, Stark, you're up," said Natasha. "Do what you do best."
Under other circumstances, at other times in his life, Tony Stark might have taken offense at the notion that being irritating was his consummate skill.
Tony responded to all of this by making a string of unrelated gestures – among them the Vulcan salute and 'these aren't the droids you're looking for' – concluding with an air guitar solo.
| n0thin-but-the-rain chapter 1 . 8/31/2012
"Hand me another egg." -Excellent. Great job weaving plot, progression, and personality into a tight little package.
| Azamiko chapter 12 . 8/11/2012
Oh, I read this on AO3. *thumbs up*
| Qweb chapter 12 . 7/20/2012
Excellent story. Thanks for writing.
| Meowse chapter 1 . 7/14/2012
OMG, I can totally see Clint dropping eggs onto unsuspecting travellers! And yeah, Natasha would to totally enable him.
| Turtle Kid the Woolgatherer chapter 12 . 7/9/2012
I thought it was a great chapter! A little sudden, but then life's a little sudden-I think any slower and it would have been . . . odd.
Thanks for writing! And bringing it all full circle to give a sense of END! I really enjoyed reading this!