clairesighs answered your question “okay has anyone put together a montage of Claire Temple scenes from...”
im uploading all claire scenes to a dropbox folder. currently only has two episodes so far but should be done by the end of the week. if you click on the masterposts page on my blog you'll find it.
This fic is part of @clairesighs Secret Santa Fic Exchange!
Happy holidays and new year, @qunsio! I hope you enjoy the gift!
I was meant to give sneak previews leading up to the presentation of the fic, but the month and change leading up to Christmas has been absolutely berserk – but hopefully the fic will be OK!
The request was:
“i’d love to receive anything clairemistyluke! maybe on a stakeout or roadtrip or like doing some kind of undercover fake couple/married job”
Now, because I’m a dirty bird, there were several smutty scenarios that sprang to mind upon receiving this delightful prompt, but I wasn’t sure if that was a thing or not, so here’s what happened instead…
--
As potential threats of physical harm went, the gun to Claire’s head didn’t rank high in terms of things that worried her.
It wasn’t that Claire was particularly fearless, and she wasn’t operating under the delusion that she as invincible. But between her line of work and the company she kept, she’d developed a steadiness in the face of violence that probably didn’t speak well of some of her life choices.
Besides, even though her heart was thudding hard in her chest and she was being very deliberate about her breathing, a gun to the head, by her measure, was much better than hands around her neck or fists against her jaw.
She recognized that her measuring stick might be more than a little fucked.
But at least this time, the situation she found herself in wasn’t about somebody trying to get at a friend or lover. This time, it was about somebody needing a nurse.
That, she could actually deal with.
“You need to fix him,” the woman’s demand was on the wrong side of desperate – aggressive, sharp, edged with panic that didn’t bely the press of steel against Claire’s temple. “Fucking fix him!”
Though she wasn’t nonchalant enough to pull away or turn her head, Claire did give the woman side eye that stemmed from impatience rather than fear.
“I can’t fix him with a gun to my head,” she said evenly.
“Are you trying to fucking negotiate with me?”
The woman’s voice rose as she pressed the gun harder into Claire’s skin. It was probably gonna leave a mark.
“No,” she said, her irritation bleeding into her tone. “I’m trying to tell you that your boyfriend is bleeding out, and that if I have a gun to my head while I try to stop that, I’m going to fuck something up, or you’re going to freak out, or your finger’s going to slip, and there’s going to be a whole lot more dead here than you want.”
The woman hesitated, watching Claire with wild, glassy eyes. It was in that moment that Claire slapped the gun away, grabbing the woman’s wrist and holding it so that the barrel was pointed away from them both.
“The fuck--!”
“Listen!” Claire barked in her ER-triage voice. “I’m gonna help him, but you need to get it the fuck together, because I can’t do what I need to do if you’re buggin’ the fuck out, OK?”
The woman looked at her for another moment, and then nodded. Her hand was shaking.
“Now put that thing away and hand me that bag over there,” she said as she knelt next to the bleeding man, who groaned as he paled and Claire pushed up his torn, blood-stained shirt to look at the wound.
**
Misty and Luke were running as Claire’s voice came over Misty’s phone.
“I told you she shouldn’t have been there,” Misty sniped at Luke as they rounded a corner, pounding the pavement.
“Yeah, and I told you that I don’t know why you think either of us is gonna stop Claire from doing anything she’s made up her mind about,” he replied, his tone more even but still tight with tension.
Misty didn’t have a reply for that – not one that made any kind of sense, really. Luke was bulletproof – worrying about him in terms of physical well-being was always going to be a marginal thing. If there was worry, it was more like, “huh, what if this plane gets hit by lightning,” or “what if a meteor falls out of the sky and hits me,” or “what if the G train shows up on time” than the kind of concern you might have for somebody who spent as much of his time the way Luke did. There was still the irrational concern that came from being invested in somebody who did dangerous things, but given Misty’s chosen occupation, she had a little bit of perspective.
Claire, on the other hand, was a different story. And though Luke was, by and large, generally less wound up than Misty, she knew he shared her concerns.
Claire’s part was just supposed to be surveillance – she’d send a signal if the target of the stakeout showed up where she was watching from. The stabbing had been unexpected if not unrelated, and Claire’s instincts as a first responder had her up and moving and revealing her position.
To which Misty had responded, “Shit,” at the very same time that Luke had uttered, “Sweet Christmas,” for which a half-beat had to be taken for the appropriate side-eye.
Luke had half-grinned and shrugged.
But there was no grinning now – only running. Claire’s voice cut out and Misty looked at her phone as they pumped their legs as hard as they’d go, breath heavy, trying hard not to clench fists or lose focus. They were getting closer to Claire’s spot, and Misty’s heart was pounding harder and harder as they approached. When they rounded the corner, both of them skidded to a stop; Misty’s sidearm was drawn.
The perp was praying.
Claire’s sleeves were rolled up, her latex gloves were on; her Santa hat was slightly askew and she was kneeling over a white dude who didn’t look older than his mid-twenties who’d developed a pretty serious-looking puddle of blood around him. The girl kneeling next to them also looked white, and like she had questionable habits she hadn’t yet figured out how to kick. She watched Claire fervently as she did her Night Nurse thing – at this point she looked like she was stitching him up.
“Claire,” Misty called out to her, and Claire’s gaze flickered up to see her and Luke; she didn’t smile, but something in her eyes subtly illuminated before she cast a glance at the girl, who looked like she was moving her hands toward her coat pocket.
“Chill,” Claire commanded sharply. “They’re with me. Don’t start no shit, it won’t be no shit.”
The girl – woman? – looked at Misty and Luke warily, but her hand stayed still.
“Hey guys,” Claire greeted them then, continuing her work without looking up again. “I’m just handling what needs immediate attention before we figure out getting this guy to St. Luke’s. I think we’re gonna be a little late.”
The Santa hats had been Claire’s idea, and Misty had forgotten she’d had one on – though Luke’s made him look like the December of a “Most Fuckable Men of New York” calendar who hadn’t gotten into the rest of his wardrobe yet. They served as a cover, though – they were going to a Christmas party, they were meeting there. Luke said they should just use being a “throuple” as a part of their cover, but Misty had argued no one would believe it.
After some thought, Claire had said, “I mean, we do look good together, though.”
Luke was edging a little closer to the bloody scene now, though, slowly and easily so as not to alarm the girl.
“You all right?” he asked, his eyes flickering from Claire, to Claire’s hands, to the girl.
“I’m fine,” Claire replied. “The blood’s all his. I found them like this, so you know how I do.”
“Night Nurse,” Misty agreed, drawing the girl’s attention away from Luke’s possible direction.
Claire was closing up the last suture.
“OK,” she said, looking at the girl. “It’s time to get him to the hospital now. He has more injuries than I can take care of here, but this’ll keep him alive until we can get him there. Call an ambulance.”
“But –” the girl protested.
“Do you want him to make it to New Year’s or not?” Claire asked, arching a brow. The girl looked down at the boy – the guy, the man; he looked so young to Misty – whose breath was alarmingly shallow, and wet her lips. Then she nodded.
“OK,” Claire said, pulling off the latex gloves. “So call.”
She stood up, moving over to Luke and Misty, giving them a smile that Misty decided was the definition of beguiling, even despite the circumstances.
“So were you guys coming to my rescue?” she asked, sidling up close to Misty to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“Well, we were tryin’,” Misty said, relief in the slight smile she returned to Claire as she gave her a squeeze.
“Like always, our girl has her stuff together,” Luke said as Claire leaned up to give him a mouth-corner kiss as well.
“I mean, please don’t stop coming for me when people with guns are wavin’ them around,” Claire said with a grin. “But this time, I think it turned out OK.”
She cast a look at the girl, who was now on the phone with 9-1-1, talking in a shaking voice.
“I figure you can probably question her on the way to the hospital. I’ll convince her to let me go with him to St. Luke’s, and you guys take her and meet us there.”
Misty smirked and shook her head.
“Girl, I need to arrest her.”
Claire wrinkled her nose.
“C’mon,” she said. “It’s Christmas and Hanukkah and it’s about to be Kwanzaa and I bet there’s like twenty more holidays we could think of gonna be celebrated tonight. Can’t we just go to this party, get lit, and dance?”
Misty grinned, sliding her arm around Claire’s waist and giving her a quick kiss.
“Yeah,” she said. “After I arrest this chick.”
Luke laughed, sliding his arms around both of them.
“Can’t tell anything to either of you,” he said with a grin.
“You damn right,” Misty said with a wink. “Y’all go ahead after we get to the hospital. I’ll meet up with you there.”
Claire made a face.
“No you won’t. That mess is gonna take all night, you gonna need to call us in for questioning, and we’re not gonna be out ‘til morning.”
Misty tilted her head and smirked sheepishly.
“I’ll make it up to y’all?” she said, grinning.
“Yeah you will,” Claire said. Now Luke grinned.
“I like the sound of that,” he said.
Claire and Misty looked at him and without missing a beat, in unison, uttered,
Hi! would you be interested in participating in a secret santa fic exchange for the defenders fandom? I have lots of cute prompts waiting to be matched with people. It would involve writing a fic and receiving a fic and possibly posting some nice surprise messages in the inbox of your person. If you are at all interested more information should be in the tag 'defendersficxchange'.
tumblr ask is actually the worst! Here is the first one again: I'm just gonna chuck a couple options here cause I'm shit at writing fic and you are fantastic hahaha! Misty/Claire - Despite the events of the interrogation room, Claire realises that Misty is the only person she knows who has her shit together. They take turns cooking for each other once a week and Claire starts to get a little too comfortable at Misty's place.
So I made a thing! I think I’m gonna post it here, hopefully it won’t fuck everything up. LULZThis may end up with another part? I don’t know what’s going on. :D
clairesighs replied to your post “if she weren’t writing in blood”
Love this so much!! Can I stick another rare pairing/prompt in your ask?
OK, so I don’t know how to reply on tumblr, I’m really trying to figure it out, so if this doesn’t come out right, I’m sorry!
But YES, of course, you can totally stick anything you want in my ask!
...
Um. That just sounds a little problematic, or at least risky, but you know what I mean!
