whenshewasnice | Voicemail

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Voicemail

This is Nat's voicemail. I'm busy, so leave a message after the tone.

BEEP.

You've reached Envy. Speak.

BEEP.

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Well, Sam had been attempting to leave a voicemail for Natalie but he'd gotten rudely blinked out of existence.

Oops.

"Daddy? It's me. Can you check if my letter from Standford came yet? Because it's really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really --"

CLICK.

[From here]

"Okay, okay, I get it. I have a name everyone and their mother can make fun of. You're not funny!"

I'm as to tired all this pass herewith. You should come over and GB naked.

(original message: I'm so tired of all this paperwork. You should come over and get naked. Ran it through autocorrect myself via sloppy Swype!)

There was really no good reason for Topher to have Natalie's number.

Also, Topher was drunk.

So... those were two important facts.

I JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW i dont think you and k8 are the same anymore. ALSO im glad youve never punched me because ow.

This drunk text was short and simple and even spelled correctly! Imagine that.

teach me how to meta?

Edited 2013-05-02 21:04 (UTC)

Natalie squinted at her phone.

No. Are you drunk again?

very

So, that settled that.

please?

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Seriously, the Fandom phone lines were not nice at all. Nope.

"Iz. It's me. Is it rude to ask someone out by voicemail?"

[And it went here!]

As always, I appreciate your nosiness, but I really can get advice from more important figures than a snarky housewife with delusions of grandeur.

Send you-know-who all my love, I hope he doesn't get a crick in his neck from leaning over your shoulder all the time.

Your least favorite manufactured product,
Peter.

Well. There was some karmic payback involved there somewhere. Though Peter's relationship with his parents was notably different.

[And this went here!]

From here:

"Don't you call me a poopy-head! I worked for two different Presidents of the United States and one of which worked primarily in Latin and obscure phrases! I will beat you like a drum, rhetorically, my friend."

[From here!]

"I'll show people pictures of us doing all kinds of things!"

He didn't even know what these pictures were and he didn't even recognize the voice but he could still play along.

"You know all that stuff we did? Yeah, I recorded it and I'm showing it to people."

Probably not the best recipient for this voicemail.

Edited 2013-05-17 23:47 (UTC)

"Natalie, hey, it's Clint Barton. Do me a favor and only listen to this if you don't seen me before you leave at the end of summer, okay? ...All right, I'm assuming a few weeks have passed now, so I just wanted to say that I'm really glad I got to know you after all that initial weird island takeover stuff, and I know that whatever you decide to do from here on out, you're going to be awesome at it. I wish I had a chance to tell you in person, but I guess it's still possible I'll see you again. Whatever you're doing, have fun, and don't forget to practice with your bow or you're gonna get rusty and then I'll have no choice but to track you down to shake my head at you like a disappointed old man. Okay? Okay."

"Hey, it's Clint. I'm okay. For the record and all. Thanks for, you know, wanting that to be a thing."

At some point after getting Natalie's gift, Sam found some time to send a short message to her.

Thanks for the gift. You didn't have to, though.

And that was all he said.

Natalie was similarly brief, once she found the time to check her phone and reply to him. No need to get overly wordy.

Not having to =/= not wanting to. You're welcome.

Yes, well. Sam sighed.

I'll add it to the music room. James'll probably like it.

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"Natalie, it's Jim. Or Kirk as you last called me for some reason. Look, I just wanted to tell you that I'm not really sure what happened the other day on the phone but I think I might have an idea. And I wouldn't ever choose Janice over you. There are few people I'd choose over you. You gotta know I care about you more than just about anyone I've ever cared about. You're special to me, close to my heart, and I will deny ever leaving this voicemail if you rub it in."

He paused for a second. "Don't be mad. If you're mad, it throws me off and I don't wanna be mad. So, be happy. Because I'm thinking about you. And I miss you. Okay. Talk to you later. Bye."

At some point ~~earlier then now omg I fail~~ during the day, Natalie would be getting a delivery with a a note attached.

Happy Valentine's Day. Miss you. Hope to see you soon.

- Jim

Edited 2014-02-15 00:35 (UTC)

At some point Saturday, a card would be delivered to Natalie's place of residence.

It was simple and signed only with Sam's name.

For Natalie's birthday (which Jim managed to remember), he sent Natalie some flowers. The card was signed with his name and a smiley face.

(From here!)

"You're rather young for my tastes, not to mention I'm a nearly married man. Please, keep your pants."

Envy,

I am, as you're no doubt aware of, not an especially brilliant star in the arena of personal interaction; my theater is politics, a performance in and of itself, much as your life in the spotlight demands a performance of you. Only now, after a near-decade of work, is my performance catching up to me: in pretending to be a good man, I've done up one or two similar qualities.

Not a lot. I'd never be stupid enough to claim I was a good man. I can never be that much of a sucker.

I didn't employ these newfound virtues when you first told me about Todd. I'm not proud of that, but I'm also vindictive and vicious in my own right, and my own pride is a bitter pill to swallow, considering the time it's had to ferment in its own shit.

I'm sorry. I was impulsive and spiteful. I had pictured us having that conversation many times, but when it happened, it went off-script. And so did I.

I'm not going to pretend I had or have any love for your ex. Frankly, I'm glad he's gone. But I should have given you more than my kneejerk judgment; after all these years, I owed you that much. So have it again, this phrase I'm hoping I'll never have to use again (and yet probably will): I'm sorry.

Now that that distasteful business is over, I move on to the future: I heard you play when you were here. It was beautiful. It sounded like you.

I meant what I said when we made our first steps towards a peace agreement this month: I expect much of you. I always have. Know that. Even if I don't know the damnedest thing about music, despite my Chief of Staff's relentless efforts to better my ways, I still think you're the best musician in the multiverse.

Please send me your next record. I'd love to hear it.

-- Peter.

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