paisley // landslide brought us down.
“I can feel how tense your shoulders are. Calm down, Peter.”
The bar had a buzz around it, and Paisley wasn’t sure if that was normal on Wednesday nights or if the Olympics were causing the influx of people to chat so much. There had to be more in the building than what should have been allowed — whether it was small or a bar hall like the ones over in Brooklyn. She could blame her anxiety on the noise level; that seemed like it would slide if anyone asked.
Peter knew better. When he squeezed her hand, he did his best not cause her anxiety to get any worse. He would have pointed out that they look like a right pair, fretting over something they put themselves into. Instead, he just kept his voice as neutral as he could. “Alright.”
“I think I see Clint and a redhead…that’s Nat, right?”
“Probably.” Paisley shurgged. Natasha changed her hair so often that she was never quite sure where they were at — and it wasn’t as though Nat thought that Paisley needed that information.
“Look, Pai — when I said to have a little fun on this trip, I didn’t mean like this.” Clint joked.
He slid into his spot next from her, Nat joining his side. If anyone else had been planning on sitting there, then they would be sorely mistaken. His hand found Lucky’s head from beneath the table, a gentle pat doing well as his greeting. The dog lived up to his name, as he was supposed to, thus far in the games. Clint didn’t want to think about a game where Paisley didn’t come, Lucky next to her and watching the crowds around him.
There’s some small chat as the others slowly channel in. Paisley feels like it’s the final scene of the Sopranos (or at least how someone described it to her) with everyone funneling in and she’s just waiting for something to happen or explode or something. All she needs is a Journey song playing overhead, and she’d be good.
“They’ve got a jukebox, Nat!” Clint jokes from somewhere a little bit away. He had just gone to get some drinks, and of course he finds a fucking jukebox. “Bet they have any American hits?”
She hears Nat’s chair shuffle, and then she’s gone. A moment later, “They have “Don’t Stop Believing”! Nat, do you have any stray quarters?”
“They don’t use quarters here—“
“It’s an American jukebox. Of course you need quarters.”
“Do they have any Fleetwood?” Peter shouts from his spot. Clint peers over the selection of songs, finding the artists graced with the first letter of ‘F’.
Terrie’s just taking her seat across from Peter, and Stephen’s next to her as they settle in. He quirks an eyebrow. “They probably only have the early hits.”
“You want ‘Landslide’ or ‘The Chain’?”
Peter looks over to Stephen — who he was pretty sure was the roommate’s boyfriend. It was one of the few times he wished Paisley could see, just so she could point out everyone. he needed to remind one of her friends to put photos on allher contacts, so she had something to show others if she ever needed it. He made a note to just do them himself later. He gave the man a grin, and then turned to Clint. “Surprise me.”
The opening chords of an acoustic guitar came in, and Paisley heard Stephen mutter to Terrie. “So the archer went with the less sappy one.”
“Okay — why don’t we just get this trial underway?” Peter starts. He can barely hold himself together, and even with good music playing overhead, there’s still a sense of urgency when he speaks.
“It’s not a trial,” Steve tries to reason.
“What makes you think it’s a trial?” Terrie questions. She’s got an arm leaned on the table to support herself, and Peter can’t help but think she’s a less-appeasing version of the Most Interesting Man in the World — complete with the smug grin.
“Yeah, you aren’t guilty of anything.” Paisley adds. She’s sweet — and she’s got good intentions. But, god, if she could see the amount of stares that were pointed directly at him? Maybe inviting everyone she knew on the trip to some dinky bar wasn’t the best idea on his part.
“Yet.” Tony whispers in Bruce’s ear. He snickers a little, but is silenced by Nat giving him a look from across the table.
Paisley wants to ring out Tony’s neck. And Terrie’s. And anyone else who was giving him a hard time; she’d just have to get Peter to guide her hands to their necks. “Anyone have any questions for him? Let’s just get this over with so there’s no more weird tension.”
‘Why do you like her?” Steve starts. Always the leader, it seemed. “That should be easy, right?”
“Dude,” Peter sighed. Paisley suppressed a sudden giggle from next to him, and she was pretty sure she covered it with a cough enough for him not to notice. He heard, though, and there was just one more reason to add to the list. “She’s, uh, spunky. First time I saw her — she was wearing the coolest glasses, and I dunno? She’s just Paisley.” The question was idiotic, actually. The more he sat on it, Peter felt like he didn’t need to give a laundry-list of reasons as to why Paisley meant something to him. The venom in his tone was obvious when he shot back, “Why’d you like her?”
“Peter—”
I picked those out,” Terrie tried. “The glasses.”
“Someone either pick another question or this thing is over.” Paisley groaned.
Was everyone at the table missing something? Peter knew Paisley couldn’t see, but he sure felt like there was a shit ton wrong with everyone else — even if they didn’t know it. Why would anyone agree to this sort of trial dinner? It wasn’t as though they were her family. He had a rowdy family, and they’d act better than this bunch.
“Have you two…?” The quiet one at the end of the table asked.
“Bucky!” The blind hissed back.
He held his hands out in defense, nearly knocking over one of Thor’s beer glasses in near him. The glass clattered against another.“I just want to know. You haven’t told us anything, and you need to get back—”
“Bucky, please.” She pleaded.
Peter squeezed her hand. “Am allowed to talk about that?”
“I’ve got it.” She could hear the grin on his face, like he was just waiting to give the answer and see her flustered. The worst part was that they hadn’t even done anything, and she was still finding blush blossoming over her cheeks like a school-girl. Too bad he had the better giggle. ”No. We haven’t.” Maybe she heard it wrong, but did someone at the table make a sad sort of response? “And it’s none of your business, anyways.”
There was a minimal amount of chatter at the table, and as Peter field another question from Terrie (which Paisley was pretty sure was bitterly about if he had any hobbies other than finding Paisley in odd circumstances), Clint leaned over to whisper in Paisley’s ear — “Does he even know?”
He was too close. She had to take a breath. “Not yet.”
“What don’t I know?” Peter butted in. Apparently, he had answered Terrie’s question, but she didn’t sound happy as she rattled something off another one.
Clint was quick to cover since Pai was busy trying to figure out what she’d missed. “That she’s head over heels for you, man.”Paisley didn’t know if that was better or worse. Either way, it was only natural for her head to fall in her hands. Could anyone else feel the anxiety starting to bubble up in her chest?
“Oh,” Peter breathed out. He was caught between two conversations and gave terrie a quick ‘one minute’ finger as he smiled down at who should have been the center of attention (even though he would have enjoyed it in better fashion). Clint was pretty sure he saw the sides of Peter’s mouth twitch upwards as his eyes found the girl between them.“Well, I do now. Good thing she already knows how much I like her.”
He turned his attention back to Terrie.
“Oh, I’m gonna vomit?” The archer gagged. “Nat, do you know if they have any doggy bags?” While the redhead fielded complaints, Tony figured it was his turn to speak up. He’d been pretty quiet for the majority of the night, and he watched as he beat Terrie to another question. God, he was worrisome about this noob as much as the next guy, but he wasn’t trying to convict the poor man of murder.
“You go to Columbia, right?”
“Yeah — for astronomy.” Peter sounded relieved to have a semi-normal question, for once. Anything to get Paisley’s roommate off the floor for a second.
“Do you have any plans for afterwords?”
This was a trap, and he was sure of it. What the perfectly-taken-care-of-beard man meant was ‘Does your future involve the blonde, blind girl next to you?’. He wished he was better at dodging things. “Maybe move back to home to Missouri, I dunno. I’m just kind of waiting to see what happens.” That was good, right?
“Are there any astronomy jobs in Missouri?” Bruce had to ask. He was watching the door to the kitchen, where the appitizers had still yet to arrive from.
“You ever been out there? Stars are a lot easier to see with or without a telescope.”
“Sounds boring.” Terrie said.
“Oh, like you have a major.” Paisley broke. She regretted the moment her words fell out, and was about to apologize when Peter cut in.
“This is going great.” He chuckled.
“You’re not trying that hard.” Terrie shot back.
He quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, and what am I supposed to do? Paisley’s the only one that matters here, and she’s got on to all of you more than me.”
“Guys, please.” The girl in question interjected. “You all said you’d behave.”
“I, for one, like him.” Thor butt in. He’d been pretty quiet, mainly chatting with one of the bartenders for the majority of the conversation. Although, he wasn’t quite sure how much his opinion mattered anyways.
“Thanks, man.” Peter smiled.
“He’s vaguley puny, but he and Paisley look good together.”
“Hey—”
“He’s fine, Thor.” Paisley shot him down. “I like him the way he is.”
“What do you want, Paisley? A stamp of approval?” Stephen sighed. The voice of reason in every conversation had chosen to speak up, but it wasn’t anything she wanted to hear.
“I just want you all to like him. If I keep coming feeling awkward tension because I have a romantic life, I’m gonna scream.” Which was true. She didn’t know how many more moments of silence she could come home to, or murmered thoughts that others didnt’t think she would hear. Why was it so hard for all of them to just pretend like they would let her be happy, and not hover over her? Great — they cared. That was nice. But, she was an adult and she needed to be able to do things on her own.
“Okay, fine — he’s alright.” Steve added. “Are we done?”
“What’s wrong with him?” Paisley’s voice broke, betraying her.
“Paisley,” Peter tried. He held her hand tightly, and he could hear her breathing becoming more and more uneven as the seconds passed. A walk sounded nice, maybe they could walk around the block before the food came out? Did anyone even order something good for Paisley with the appitizers?
Speaking of the girl, he couldn’t help but hear her voice getting more frayed. He wasn’t sure if he had heard her this emotional before. Had he? “No, just tell me why you don’t like him.” She got out. From where Peter sat, he could see Lucky starting to notice her distress.
“He’s fine, Pai.” Clint tried.
“Yeah,” Tony seconded him. “He seems good—”
“No, I’m not worried about you guys. Why doesn’t anyone across from me like him?” Which — who all was that? She knew Terrie wasn’t fond of him, or Steve really. But when did the blond boy not take Terrie’s side?
“Maybe she’s jealous.” Peter finally broke. He was on fucking thin ice, but how could he not skate over it? He stared Terrie down, knowing his death wish was pretty close to happening. He could almost hear the ice starting to crack under him as he continued. “That was the plan with your last relationship, right?”
“Peter,” Paisley cautioned. Where was that doggy bag Clint had joked about?
“What is he talking about?” Bucky tried, but he wasn’t very convincing. The man wasn’t really going down this path, was he?
Steve just buried his face away.
Terrie was prepping herself to respond when Peter stopped her again. (That seemed to be talent of the night; or maybe it was a game? Who could talk before Terrie could?) “Yeah. When you and Steve dated, she was jealous. That was the plan, right? So, they’d get together?”
“You need to shut him up, Pai.” Bucky snapped.
She rose to her feet with a clatter, yanking him away. “We aren’t doing this tonight. Let’s go take a walk.”
“You can’t run away, Paisley.” Tony sighed. As though he actually knew what was really going on! Paisley scoffed, and her hands fumbled for the sturdiness Peter provided. He’d gotten up, and her hands were pushing his shoulders away from the table. Although, she had them heading for the kitchen.
He changed direction, and moved to grab her hands as he guided her towards the balmy air Rio provided. As they got out the door, she shouted, “I didn’t make this mess! She wasn’t supposed to know.”
“Oh, that’s shitty.” Bruce added from back at the table.
“She’ll be back.” Clint thought he was good at diffusing sitations, but everyone at the table looked like a bomb was about to go off. It probably was. “She left the dog.”
Outside, the quiet of an alleyway provided space to be alone and Paisley couldn;t help but slap Peter across what she hoped was his chest. It didn’t hit that much, but Peter knew he deserved it. And the (softer) hit after that — and the next one. “Why would you do that?” she almost cried.
His heart sunk into his stomach. “I’m sorry.” His mouth got the better of him, but she knew that. “I’ll go in and apologize.”
“No, they don’t need to worry about you now.” She gave up a defense and chose to lean against his chest, instead. Was it muscle memory that his came up to support her? She only jumped slightly. “We just have to deal with the wrath of Terrie.”