14858/Date Night (Gone Right

Date Night (Gone Right
Date of Scene:	06 May 2023
Location:	Sherwood Florist, First Floor
Synopsis:	Dinah and Clint go out on a date, only to find some ne'er-do-wells want to spoil their romantic evening. That ain't gonna slide.
Cast of Characters:	Clint Barton, Dinah Lance

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Clint Barton has posed:
Date night was a sacred tradition.

At least for Clint Barton.

He had taken the beautiful, incomparable Dinah Lance out on a dinner date. They had eaten their fill, they had laughed, they had...talked. It wasn't the most bombastic date ever, but it also certainly wasn't the worst. THey both live high-octane lifestyles, the type that leave your blood pumping after every word.

And eating at the fanciest diner in town wasn't exactly high octane...it was more...mature and sophisticated.

Something they both weren't.

Dressed in his date-night clothes, which mostly consisted of a black blazer, a fun polo shirt, dark pants, and dress shoes, he was taking a stroll with Dinah through the park.

"I mean, the food was /alright/. I don't know if it was /best in Gotham/ and all that. What'd you think?"

Dinah Lance has posed:
It had taken some doing to find just the right outfit for a date night. It had been a while since Dinah had last gone out for an evening other than super heroing, and somehow she doubted that Clint wanted her to show up in a bustier and fishnets for their date. So instead she wore a blue dress she had picked up a couple of years earlier when she was a bridesmaid. Why else would she have it? It was before she had embarked on quite the crime fighting career, so it did not /quite/ fit her the same way as last time - she had put on a bit of muscle since - but it still clung to her form, coming down in a tight skirt just above the knees, with a plunging neckline which showed off somehow even more cleavage than her superhero outfit usually did. That might be the feature of the dress. Maybe if she had other options, she would have rethought it, but what's the worst that could happen?

"Gotham has some pretty low standards, Clint," replies Dinah as she walks along with him. "Gotham's best is probably still not even top ten in Metropolis."

OOC: https://us.shein.com/Surplice-Neck-Ruched-Bodycon-Dress-p-9930328-cat-1727.html

Clint Barton has posed:
Not that fishnets and bustier wouldn't have been hot, mind you...

Clint was a simple guy.

She had picked a blue dress and it made her blonde hair sparkle. Made her eyes practically glow in the night. He admired her form /greatly/ when he had first seen her, his eyes never failing to remind her that yes, she is *extremely* attractive. Plunging neckline and all.

"Hey, in Gotham's defense, it doesn't have Superman - or that whole 'city of tomorrow' thing going on for it." He falls into step with her, seemingly unaware that two men wearing all black have started to tail them.

"But, I think I went out on a date with Gotham's best tonight." He winks at her. "But tell me more about you - how'd you get into the flower gig?"

Dinah Lance has posed:
The fishnets and bustier might have been hotter than he could handle.

Dinah was a simple gal.

She felt confident enough to pull off the dress, and did not seem to mind that she caught Clint looking. She probably would have minded more if she did /not/ catch him looking. Especially since she was going through the effort of walking around in it - she did not like that much restraint.

"But it's got Batman." She glances over at Clint and grins. "Just because a city has Superman doesn't mean it has better food." She is, also, paying more attention to her date than to the men following them. It's all fine, right?

She rolls her eyes at that line, and just shakes her head. "Family business." She shrugs a bit. "I take after my folks, so I'm following in their footsteps." She leaves out the costumed super hero part of that, though.

Clint Barton has posed:
Hotter than he could handle?

Than /he/ could handle?!

Honestly, she's probably right. If she showed up in costume, Clint might as well melt. He likes what he sees all the same and her efforts are firmly rewarded. He's tempted to reach out, and so...

She might find her pinky being subtly taken by his own, should the attempt to be rewarded with such a contact.

"True, but it /does/ mean people are more willing to put more money into it. Superman is marketeable. Batman is...terrifying as fuck." Clint remarks to Dinah with a bit of a smile.

One of those men draw a knife, slow and steady. Nice model. Karambit.

"That makes sense. It suits you, I think. Are you close to your folks or..?"

Dinah Lance has posed:
In what might possibly lead to some very misunderstood signals, just as Clint reaches out to Dinah's finger she freezes, tensing up.

His question goes over her head, as she slows her step. What might be an agonizing few moments for Clint, wondering if he had somehow frozen her out, gives way to a definite sign of -- something.

Dinah turns to the side and shoves Clint, /HARD/, in the side, propelling him towards a set of bushes along the side of the path.

If he initially thinks it is a response to his pinky manuever, that is likely corrected as she turns back to face the two men approaching. "Not what I meant by following in my footsteps," she mutters, eyeing the two men.

And suddenly wishing that she had not worn a skirt that bound her thighs together. Ugh!

Clint Barton has posed:
She tenses.

She doesn't just tense.

She /FREEZES/.

"Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel weird. I dunno, just...seemed right?" Clint is throwing up the excuse that he does when it gets awkward when a woman /clearly/ doesn't want to be touched. Only, it might be that Clint had the wrong idea considering Dinah immediately /shoves/ him out of the way of the combat and Clint goes- "Whoa!" before his body is sailing away towards the bushes where he disappears!

"C'mon, lady...you got legs, yeah, but you really think you doin' much in that dress?" One of the crooks mentions to her. "Y'know, I want to date too...think I'm handsome, toots?"

One of the men tries to lunge at her with a knife, only for Clint to make a sudden reappearance, gripping the man's wrist and twisting it sharply in a way it's /not/ supposed to bend. "I can help you know!"

Which leaves the other crook to Dinah, who is shocked Clint got up that fast.

Dinah Lance has posed:
The crook is not the only one shocked at Clint's reaction speed. It registers in Dinah's mind as he is suddenly there, even as she is advancing on the other would-be mugger. But that is something to process later, as she shifts into crime fighting mode.

She easily dodges the attackers first punch and then ducks under, coming up with a quick right hook that sends him staggering. Her follow-up is instinctual, a pivot into a side kick directly at the man's midsection, to send the already off-balance attacker to the ground.

Instinct, of course, does not account for taste, or in this case, fashion. The quick movement and kick tears the dress at the seams, too much pressure exerted during the kick. But that is a problem for later, if this does not send both crooks fleeing for the hills.

Clint Barton has posed:
That mugger doesn't stand a chance.

These are two world class fighters. Dinah /by herself/ could handle these chumps no problem. She bobs and weaves like a champion boxer, a right hook nearly knocks him unconscious, a side kick to his midsection sends him to the ground, gasping for any kind of oxygen to come into his lungs, but to no avail.

There is no such mercy.

Dinah's dress tears and it draws Clint's eyes. "Wow..."

Because she's a /babe/. Meantime, Clint finishes breaking the wrist o the man with the knife until the blade drops into his hand, which he immediately discards, and a solid kick to the groin sends him straight to the ground whimpering.

"So....that went well." He turns to look at Dinah, a smile on his face.

"So...self defense?"

Dinah Lance has posed:
Dinah has more things to worry about than however much of her is on display with the torn dress. "Behind you," she calls out to Clint, as two more similarly clad fellows come along from the bushes. She starts to advance when she hears a crack from behind her. There must be more. "Hope that first one wasn't a fluke," she says to Clint, trusting that he can handle his two.

She pitches forward to kick backwards as one thug comes at her, sending him back into the bushes, and she whirls on her heel to face the other coming at her.

This was SO not the dress to do this in.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Oh come on-"

Two more men come at him and while Clint /prefers/ to fight with a bow and at distance, that doesn't mean he's a slouch in melee. He shoots a takedown on the first man, tackling him with enough force to send the back of his head into pavement, the whiplash alone enough to guarantee a concussion. Clint rolls off of him, and his hand immediately is thrown, connecting with the throat of the second.

"Friends of yours? Or just a random mugging with like...so many guys?"

Ah, that classic Hawkeye charm: jokes that arn't funny. Of course, Dinah's taking care of her own business as Clint works on putting this guy in shrinkwrap.

Dinah Lance has posed:
Just as the second assailant starts to rise, there is a /thud/ as Dinah's fourth dance partner is flung over her shoulder in a perfectly executed judo throw. She takes a quick look to confirm that the other one is down before looking over at Clint. "Friends of yours?" she asks, waving a hand around to indicate the now six stunned thugs lying around near the path.

She takes a moment to catch her breath, looking to see if Clint is ok. She is fine, of course, although the last throw snapped one of the spaghetti straps on her dress. "Well, shit," she says, glancing down at that, lifting it up and then dropping it limply.

There do not appear to be any more assailants coming out of the woodwork, at least.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint is completely fine!

Least for the moment. "None that I recognize. No insignias, no major scarrings....just might as well be random guys in my book." Clint remarks at the downed men, before he walks over to Dinah, checking her over and making sure she's alright.

Well...that and, he notices one of the sphaghetti straps of her dress was comlpetely snapped. "Not irrepairable, I don't think." Clint smiles at her. But now adrenaline was flowing through his veins.

He looks at Dinah.

A hand reaches, attempting curl itself around her waist and pull her close, if she accepts the contact. "Is this one of those moments where I try something stupid and I potentially get my ass handed to me?"

Dinah Lance has posed:
Her own survey of the men had concluded something similar, although Dinah certainly did not suspect herself of being an expert in such things. So she defers to Clint. "Wrong place, wrong time," she murmurs.

She looks up from the dress at Clint's assessment, and smirks at him. "You a modiste now?" she asks. But it's clear from the flush on her cheeks and the way her breath was going that she, too, was feeling that surge. The fight may be over, but the adrenaline had yet to fully work its course.

She does not resist, and is pulled in by his arm, her eyes watching his carefully. "You're going to get your ass handed to you regardless, so may as well try something stupid to make it worthwhile."

Clint Barton has posed:
"Not even a little bit."

Clint was no fashionista, not a clothing designer or tailor. He had no clue if that dress was actually 'fixable' or not, just trying to stay optimistic. But he nods at her assessment. "Wrong place, wrong time."

Then they were so close. Chest to chest, eyes peering into one another. When she doesn't resist, when she oddly encourages him to do what he's going to do to make the punishment worthwhile, Clint smiles at her.

"Fair enough."

He leans in quickly, his lips seeking out hers in a passionate, heated connection should she wish to accept it. Even if it was a strange date, even if it was ta strange night in general...he had an amazing time. And somehow, Dinah's managed to sweep him off of his feet.

Now...could he do the same, before he gets a /brutal/ ass whooping?

Dinah Lance has posed:
The kiss certainly does not take Dinah by surprise. She finds herself returning it, however, which might be the surprising part. Accepting the embrace and returning the kiss with an equally fiery passion, she leans in towards Clint, moving her hands first to feel his muscular chest and then around to his back.

She is almost lost in the kiss. Almost. As one of the thugs starts to get up and moan, she lifts her foot and smashes it down against his forehead.

Chest heaving from the fight and the moment, Dinah finally speaks in a throaty near grunt. "Get us out of here."

Clint Barton has posed:
"Mmm!"

Completely lost in the throes of passion, Clint holds Dinah tight as they share such a kiss. A sacredthing, a promise of later events, a reward for standing next to him and he next to her. They meet with such a passion they could reignite a star. He lets a hand rest in golden locks, while the other settles at her lower back.

A goon groans, just in time to get a boot to the head.

She wants to get out of here?

Thank. God.

"Yes ma'am." Clint answers breathlessly, reaching for her hand and quickly leading her away rfom this place. Sorry guys, these two have bigger fish to deal with.