First and only time that I will write an Author's Note in the beginning and at the end. Welcome to the Show Girl Outtakes! It has a little bit everything; moments that I thought would be funny but couldn't add because it didn't fit with the flow of the story, more character development on character's that aren't Tony and Rachel, and really random prompts.
So what does this all mean?
(1) Gives you something to read while(or if, all debatable really) I struggle on writing the chapters that follow for the Show Girl.
(2) You guys can give me prompts. Write the head cannons you've created in your wonderful minds or scenarios you want to see or give me questions you want answered.
Enjoy and remember: I do not own the Avengers.
"I don't understand why we're even here," Clint commented quietly as the line he was in crawled forward. "You'd think saving the city from an alien invasion and giant robots would be enough contribution."
Steve, who stood in front of him, gave him a stern look. "It's our civic duty and right as an American citizen to participate in a court. Wouldn't you want to have your fellow citizens giving you a fair trial?"
Clint stared at him.
Rachel, who had also received the summon, squeezed herself in between the two and looked amusedly up at the Captain. "You've never done it before, have you?"
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose with a long suffering sigh and turned his attention back to the front of the line. Good thing too because he was the next person in line.
A thin rail woman stood in front of them, a small white basket on her side. At the sight of Steve, the woman began to get fluster and stumble on her words. Steve smiled kindly and waited patiently for her to give him directions. The smile did nothing to reassure her; the jumble of word vomit making her sound like she was possessed.
"Just grab a questionnaire and sit somewhere." Rachel snapped at Steve, nudging him through the double doors. The clerked glared at her and Rachel couldn't help but do the same.
Clint, despite his earlier misgivings about being there, grinned and followed after his blue-haired friend. "If you could start a brawl with the clerk while we're here that would be great. God knows this place sucks."
Rachel rolled her eyes and took her seat beside the Captain. He looked entirely too concentrated as he wrote on the little slip of paper.
"Does it count that I was undercover when I got arrested?" Clint whispered at them. Rachel looked at her own paper and fell on the number fourteen.
Have you,or a close friend or family member ever been arrested or accused of a crime?
"That's everyone in the Tower." Rachel noted. Her eyes suddenly raised and she smiled triumphantly at the archer. "Except me of course."
Clint raised an eyebrow. "I can easily changed that."
Steve reach over Rachel and smacked Clint upside the head. He yelped and rubbed his head almost pitifully.
It was only 8 in the morning.
Rachel was curled as best as she could on Clint's shoulder, a warm styrofoam cup in between her hands. He sat slouched,his arms crossed his chest and resting face in place, as he watched Pretty Woman on the screen.
Rachel had to admit that from a stranger's point of view Clint looked scary. That could explain why their aisle was almost completely empty.
Rachel sighed and checked her phone. It had been three hours since they had gotten into the assembly room with absolutely nothing to do.
She had been planning to bring a book to read- an erotic novel she had stolen from Tony's secret stash- but Clint insisted that he and Steve would be enough entertainment.
Yet here she was, watching Clint get teary as Richard Gere climbed the fireplace while Steve was somewhere in the building playing juror.
Rachel sighed and took a sip of her coffee. Maybe she should take a nap.
Her daydream of a tap-dancing Steve on a rocketship was shattered as someone tapped on her shoulder. She craned her neck to look behind her.
It was a teenage boy, with a pink mohawk and bedazzled square glasses, staring almost besheeshingly at her.
"Yes?" Rachel said politely. The boy shuffled forward in his seat, his breath nearly on her face. She pulled her head back.
"I've seen you before, haven't I?" the boy asked excitedly.
By this point Clint's interested had been peaked and he turned his head a little to watch the interaction from the corner of his eye.
"Not that I'm aware of." she said. The boy scrutinized her. His face suddenly lit up.
"I know! You're Iron Man's girlfriend." he said, rubbing his hands together. Rachel groaned inwardly and tried to ignore Clint shaking beside her.
"I'm not actually." she said, trying to keep her polite smile in place. The boy shook his head, pulling out his iphone from his pocket. He tapped on it for a couple of seconds before turning the screen to them.
It was a picture of them in front of a restaurant. They, along with the rest of the Avengers, had been celebrating another successful mission and they had all decided to doll up. Rachel had her arms around his waist, giving him a puppy-eyed look as he looked on with a grumpy look on his face.
"Is this not you?" he asked. Rachel wanted to crawl in a hole and hibernate.
"You do look very comfortable." Clint teased, poking her arm. The boy nodded enthusiastically. Rachel glared at them.
"Drake." the boy quickly supplied. She nodded.
"Drake , as flattered as I am that you think I'd hang around superheroes all day. I'm not her just because I have blue hair." she said with an apologetic smile. She could feel Clint dying with laughter beside her. " We don't all look alike."
Clint casually leaned back in his seat and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She looked at him questioningly. He winked at her.
"Besides, if there is anyone that she's dating, its definitely me." he said, planting a kiss on her temple. "Isnt that right, babe?"
Rachel sagged against him and smiled, placing a hand behind his neck. She knew there was a reason she stuck with the archer. "No one better than you babe."
They were about to instigate an old out tongue war, when the boy was called up. The boy shot up, his face the color of a tomato, and quickly went through the doors to the right, mumbling apologies as he went.
Rachel and Clint high-fived and turned their attention to the screen. Les Miserables was playing. The archer groaned loudly as Rachel perked up in her seat.
"61-Clint Barton...523-Alice Shuster...1000-Rachel Lewis...1210..." the clerk called from her little podium.
Rachel and Clint gave each other a low five at being stuck together for this jury, but both were pretty bummed at being picked.
They made their way through the double doors and stood by the walls with the other jurors, waiting for the bailiff to call their numbers.
It was a towering bald man with heavy set eyebrows. He scowled as he surveyed the group he was given. His eyes lingered particularly at Clint.
"Listen up because I'm only going to say this once." his dark voice bounced off the hallways. "When I call your number, I'm going to collect your questionnaire and give you a number. Remember it."
He pulled a clipboard from his side and quickly began to rattle the numbers. Rachel was number ten. Clint was twenty.
"-your lunch begins now. Remember to go to the third floor on your left at one. Enjoy your freedom while you still can." the bailiff chuckled. Everyone scampered to the elevators.
The two friends looked at each other and shrugged.
"Do you want to climb the vents?"Clint asked, staring at a particular one over their heads. Rachel wrinkled her nose.
"As much as that sounds fun, who knows how long they've cleaned them." she replied. Clint smiled wickedly.
"Only one way to find out." he sang. She shook her and moved forward to press the elevator button.
"You do that. I'm going to go eat." she said. She could practically hear the turmoil going on through his head. The elevator doors slid open and she stepped in, along with a couple of other people.
Clint, after a second, slipped in snaking his way next to her. She smiled at his dejected expression.
It was another hour and they found themselves back in the assembly room. This time however, Steve was sitting beside them, a pleased expression on his face.
"Don't tell me you enjoyed it" Clint deadpanned, rubbing his sore neck.
Steve shrugged."It was nice seeing what goes on in our government. It makes me feel useful."
Rachel couldn't help but groan. "You are already useful Steve. You're Captain America."
Steve blushed furiously and ducked his head. "Yeah, but when I'm out of the uniform it's nice to know that I can still help.
Rachel and Clint stared at him. The archer slowly shook his head. "You're giving me a toothache will all this patriotic shit."
The courtroom was smaller than Rachel had expected. She was use to high ceilings and windows that lit up the benches. But it looked like this room was made at the last minute and in a hurry.
What did that say about the Judge?
Rachel sat squashed between two burly men that could easily belong in Hell's Angel. Clint sat in the row behind her, occasionally poking her shoulder when a potential juror said something outrageous.
"Juror number ten. Rachel Lewis." the judge called. The blue-haired woman sat up straight, tucking strands of her hair behind her ear.
Judge Reed was a small woman with fiery red hair that looked like it made up half of her body. So far, she proved to have an impressive sharp wit as she shut down anyone that tried to give her stupid excuses as to why they shouldn't be a juror.
"Morning, your honor." Rachel greeted.
"It says here that you and several friends been a victim of a crime?" Judge Reed asked, peering at her over her glasses.
Rachel bit her lip. This was the hardest part. Trying to give enough information without breaking Shield protocol.
"Yeah, I've been assaulted and my home has been destroyed because of my affiliations. My best friend and his girlfriend have almost been murdered twice." she said carefully. The room had gone silent, not even the normal whisperers were engaging in conversation.
"Who are you affiliated with, Miss Lewis?" Reed asked.
"I can't give you a name." the blue-haired woman said softly. The judge leaned back in her seat and surveyed her.
"You must remember that this is the time to see if you'll be a juror or not, "Judge Reed explained, shuffling her papers. "I'm afraid you have to say. Unless you want to speak in private."
Rachel shook her head. "Your honor I can't say anything either way. All you need to know is that my silence is granted by the government."
The judge stared at her for a moment. Rachel wouldn't be surprised if she didn't believe her. It wasn't often when a young girl claimed something as outrageous as that.
"Alright. Juror number eleven." Judge reed called out after a pregnant pause.
Rachel sank against the wooden bench, vaguely listening to the man beside her speak about his open case. She smiled softly to herself as she felt a poke on her shoulder. She didn't have to turn around to see Clint's proud grin.
"Juror number twenty. Clinton Barton." the judge called out. She looked down at hia paper for a long moment.
"I can show you my ID if you need to see proof." Clint called out. The dancer turned her head. He was practically lounging on his side of the bench. If it wasn't for the other people around, his legs would easily be resting beside him.
"No need," Judge Reed said calmly, moving on to another questionnaire. "I'll find all I need to know through background check."
"I wish you luck, your honor." was Clint's only reply.
Rachel stared open-mouthed at the crumbled justice building, a purple giant sprawled over it. She felt someone grab her chin and flash a light in her eyes. She blinked.
When she had asked the universe to get her out of jury duty, she didn't mean an attack on the very building she was in by a mythical creature.
"I think she's in shock sir."
"You would be too if Hagrid carried you around like his favorite barbie doll."
"Clint." Captain America said. Oh, Steve was using that voice. "We'll take it from here, thank you."
Slowly, she released the breath she was holding and raised her eyes to two worried Avengers. They looked terrible.
Clint had a busted lip and only one good eye, the other was firmly swollen shut. Steve's jacket was missing, his right arm in a sling while he favored his left foot.
"Nothing like riding the Hulk, huh?" Clint joked. Steve slapped him upside the head.
"Ignore him, Rachel."
Rachel shook her head and gingerly touch the back of her head. She winced at the pain that shot through her head and the blood that clung to her fingers. "I think the Hulk would take better care of his doll."
Clint stared at her through his one good eye. "You realize that his catchphrase is 'Hulk Smash', right? No amount of hair flipping would make him friendly."
Rachel glared at him. She turned her head to glare at Steve too for good measures. He raised his one good hand.
She was going to make sure Jarvis excused her from Jury Duty for the rest of her life.
I had Jury Duty last week and it was one of the most boring yet kind of interesting experience I've ever gone through. I guess I was lucky that it was a criminal case, but still, wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy...well maybe I do actually.
Thanks and let me know what you think with a review.