The Hawk and the Robin

Two

It was a terrible day. 

Although I hadn't unknowingly injured or attempted to injure anyone yet,  Natasha had used my phone to have a long, screaming, conversation with her landlord, and she had (sadly) left my residence to stay with a friend.

It sounded like the friend was male.

Now, don't get me wrong; a guy like me, one who possesses swaggering charm, and impossibly good looks, plus a strong sense of masculinity about his person...for this kind of man, one will never have to resort to 'desperate measures' to get a date. He can have his pick of the choicest females... or, for all you womens' rights people, the choicest females can have their pick of him. If Natashed turned on her stiletto heels and never responded to my pursuing of her, I would just move onto another. However, there was something about her that made me not want another, only her. 

Anyway, the day was crummy. I wanted to take my anger out on something that wasn't a target, with something that wasn't a bow and arrow. I'd already kicked a tree out of stupidity, and got a swollen, most likely black-and-blue, toe for my rashness. I cried out when I almost walked into a mound of sand teeming with ants, and lifted my foot to stomp them into oblivion when a blond guy tackled me. 

Great. 

Now I was the one getting hurt.

"Don't step on that anthill!" His blue eyes looked frantic.

"Are you some kind of enviromentalist?" My lip curled; I didn't like having these scientists in my woods, as they always complained about my shooting off arrows into trees, even though they were dead trees.

"Scientist, actually...but if I tried to explain to you why it's so important to me, you would think that I was crazy."

"Doubtful," I said. "I've seen some unbelievable things over the past few days." Mostly a fuzzy blue religious fantatic who can teleport from place to place and has a tail? 

He cupped his hand around his mouth and whispered, "I'm trying to take down the local government." 

Why, that's funny. I was thinking of doing that myself. 

"With ants?" I almost laughed, making his face redden with anger and embarrassment. 

"Well...I can shrink myself, and control them - but that's only if I wear a special helmet that I made myself."

"Somehow I believe you," I said. "Good luck!" And I turned to go, but I was struck with a sudden mental lightning bolt of curiosity. 

"This shrinking thing...is this a natural ability?"

"No, I'm not a mutant, but I do know some, and they're very nice. It's...from this thing that I invented, Pym Particles." 

"I've met some mutants." Well, kind of, like, one. But  one is some, isn't it? "Good luck with your government takedown thing." Was it too early to tell him I was interested in doing the exact same thing, for a girl? It seemed kind of ridiculous; I hadn't known Natasha that long, but I was getting fed up with the way things were running around here, and if I could combine that with a way to show her I wasn't just another well-built and good-looking guy with serious flirting skills.... I went back to my treetop cabin to think it over.

"Hank! Stop poking at that anthill!" She was slim, her dark auburn hair bobbed around her face, and her eyes were a similarly arresting blue. 

"I thought we were going out to dinner. Men," she said to me, "you've always got to apoligize for them. I don't think he's a lunatic, really." 

He looked up then.

"Ah, you again. Well, this is the beautiful Janet Van Dyne, my...good friend." 

She snorted.

"Good friend? Oh, Hank.... Do your other  'good friends' do this?" She pushed him so he was laying on his back on the ground, and kissed him passionately. 

"And what about last night when - "

"Janet!"

"And this," she said, "is Dr. Henry -"

"Hank."

"Fine, Hank then - Pym, scientist and superperson extrordinare, who can't admit that we're seeing each other romantically."

"Our relationship is complicated, Janet!" cried the doctor.

"You named your size-altering invention after yourself?"

"He's got an ego problem," said Janet, preening and pouting  into her compact, with a tube of rose lipstick in her hand. She applied it liberally to her mouth. 

"But we are working on it," she said, giving him a slap on the butt and hooking her forearm around his, purse swinging in tandem with her steps. "And I don't think I ever got your name."

"Oh, I forgot to ask that," Hank Pym murmured. 

"Clint Barton...well, Hawkeye works, too."

She snorted.

"Men who give themselves superhero nicknames are trouble. You have a girlfriend, Clint Barton?"

"Not currently, but I'm very close." 

"Cute," she said. "So maybe we'll see you around?"

"Hey, Hank," I called to him as she broke off from him and sauntered to the car.

"You know that thing you're organizing? I'm in."