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Bad ideas in Cannes

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"Hey! You're a superhero, right? I mean, you're not Ryan Gosling but desperate times, right?"

Jeremy blinks at the pretty blonde with the on-going wardrobe malfunction that's suddenly appeared before him. "I guess?"

"Excellent! Hold my purse -" said silvery shiny purse is thrust at him and Jeremy takes it automatically. "-while I go deal with my boobs." Jeremy stares at her boobs, because, well, they're definitely trying to escape that dress, and he might be forty-ish, but boobs.

The blonde beams at him and vanishes in direction of the bathrooms before Jeremy gets around to asking her name. She looks familiar though. Has he seen her face on posters? Maybe.

He ponders this, holding the purse under his arm and sipping really expensive champagne. So far Cannes gets both thumbs up from him.

"Nice purse, matches your tie," Scarlett tells him when she comes over. She's definitely laughing at him.

"I'm fantastic at accessorizing,"Jeremy agrees. "Goes with my eyes too, don't you think?" He widens his eyes at her, and she grins. "No, I'm holding it for some tiny blonde with a boob problem."

Scarlett blinks. "I'm sort of scared to ask. Also, tiny blonde does not narrow it down."

"...True. Um, it's-- oh, it's her." Jeremy nods at the blonde who's walking towards them, boobs under control once more.

"Two superheroes!" She beams at them. "My purse has never been safer, I'm sure."

"Ah," Scarlett says. "It's Jennifer. She played-- you're Mystique, right? In the X-Men movies?"

Jennifer nods. "Yep! We're family. Sort of. A dysfunctional comicbook movie family. Can I have my purse back now?"

"I don't know, I kind of like it. Scarlett says it matches my tie," Jeremy says, nodding his head.

Jennifer laughs. "Hey, it does! That's great!"

Jeremy grins back. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Scarlett facepalming, because Scarlett is smart and knows what he looks like when he likes someone. Especially when that someone is someone he should really never even consider looking at like that.
*

“So,” Jeremy says, after they’ve talked about the kitchen for about an hour. Kris wants cabinets, Jeremy is leaning towards more shelves. They’ve got time still, so right now they’re just enjoying arguing about it.

“So,” Kris repeats warily.

“I met a girl yesterday,” Jeremy starts, and then has to stop because Kris starts laughing too hard to listen. “Oh my god, shut up!”

“Okay, okay, who is she? Who did you meet? In Cannes? Angelina Jolie is very taken, you know.” Kris is still laughing because Jeremy’s dating woes is the funniest thing ever to him.

Jeremy ducks his head. “Um. Jennifer Lawrence -” and that’s as far as he gets before Kris shrieks with laughter. In the end he hangs up, and goes to bang his head against the very nice hotel room wall.

*

Scarlett is also laughing at him when she joins him on the beach, but at least she’s more subtle about it. “Really?”

Jeremy doesn’t stop glancing - in a very subtle manner, shut up Scarlett - up at the nearby cafe where Jennifer Lawrence is on her third interview and second pain au chocolat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says loftily.

“Uh-huh. I guess it’s of no interest that we had a lovely chat over a bottle of red yesterday. She’s very...” Scarlett tilts her head. “Unfiltered. Kind of like you, in a way.”

“I got that from the boob emergency,” Jeremy says. “And she’s...” he trails off. Because Scarlett is a much nicer person than Jeremy deserves, she tells him before he has to explicitly ask.

“Both single and twenty-one.” Scarlett pauses, then her lips turn up in a wicked grin. “Exactly twenty-one, in fact.”

Jeremy puts a hand over his eyes and sighs. If he’s lucky, Kris will stop laughing around Christmastime.

*

“Hawkeye!”

Jeremy turns his head, “fans are great” smile in place, which turns into a genuine one when he sees Jennifer running up to him. “You do know it’s not my name, right?”

Jennifer scrunches her face. “Yeah, but I don’t remember what that is.” She blinks. “Is that one of those things I shouldn’t admit?”

Jeremy shrugs. “Don’t ask me. According to Kris I was raised by wolves. ...My mom agrees.” He holds out a hand, because what the hell, why not? “Jeremy Renner, not quite a superhero, nor a spy, at your service.”

She shakes his hand solemnly. She has a surprisingly firm handshake. “Jennifer Lawrence, totally a supervillain and future Mockingjay.”

“What’s a Mockingjay and is that something you should admit to in public?”

Happily she laughs. “You obviously don’t read a lot of Young Adult fiction.”

“No,” Jeremy agrees.

Jennifer waves a hand dismissively. “It’s a dystopia thing. Anyway!” She hasn’t let go of his hand yet, and starts walking, swinging their hands. He’s both charmed and convinced he’s going to end up married to her in the gossip news by evening. For once he doesn’t really mind. “Tell me all about yourself. Maybe over coffee. Do you drink coffee?”

Jeremy does in fact drink coffee. They end up in a small cafe, inside, because there’s only so much camera flashing in his face Jeremy can deal with when he’s sort of off duty. He manages to deal for all of fifteen minutes before he’s forced to excuse himself and call Scarlett.

“This is such a bad idea,” he moans. “She’s funny! And I think she likes me! Well,” he corrects. “My arms. But that’s a start. Except no! Because bad idea!”

“You do have very nice arms,” Scarlett says, slowly, like she’s really thinking about it. “Not like Hemsworth’s, but--”

“That man is a mutant,” Jeremy interrupts. This is a fact, Scarlett doesn’t have to snicker like that. “Not the point! Scarlett, you have to come save me from myself.”

“You’re adorable, and no, I do not,” Scarlett says firmly, and then she hangs up on him because she’s a horrible person.

Jeremy debates calling Kris, but he’ll probably just laugh at him again. He really needs to get better friends. Friends who will stop him from hitting on women twenty years his junior.

When he comes back to the table, Jennifer is eating something with a lot of cream on it. “Dieting is for other people,” she says, once she notices him staring.

“...You have a moustache,” he replies.

“...Class and elegance is also for other people.”

Which is when Jeremy accept that he’s doomed. He sits down across from her and stares hopefully at the cream covered whatever it is. After a moment she scoops some up on her fork and holds it out to him. It’s very sweet.