3/The Early Bird Gets The First Batch of Bacon

The Early Bird Gets The First Batch of Bacon
Date of Scene:	15 February 2020
Location:	Avengers Mansion - Kitchen
Synopsis:	Clint's return to the mansion is celebrated with eggs, bacon and burnt toast with Wanda. Also, Happy Valentine's Day, archer.
Cast of Characters:	Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff

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Clint Barton has posed:
It's morning at the mansion and it's no surprise that Clint is down in the kitchen, short an 'iron' suit or powers Clint had to work for his abilities and so he was in the habit of getting up early for a run and then devouring whatever he could find in the kitchen. Today is no exception. The tall blonde Avenger is in the middle of the kitchen, dressed in his running sweats, a batch of scrabbled eggs cooking in a pot (hey he saw it in a Gordon Ramsey video once!) and toast burning in the toaster.

His phone, an old cracked Starkphone sits on the counter playing an 80's playlist from Spotify, which has somewhat fittingly landed on "Our House" by Madness (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnG8OI50BEk) and as Clint stirs the eggs in the pot he groves to the song singing along. It's not like anyone else is around right?

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The music covers the footfalls of an approaching person. Though it isn't enough just to drown them out. The music influences the steps of Wanda Maximoff, giving her a slight bounce in her step that wasn't there before. She rounds the corner into the kitchen, wearing a pair of boxer shorts, white with small pink hearts, and grey long sleeve Henley shirt of a ribbed fabric that clings to the auburn-haired woman's curves.

Her slippers have a rubber sole so weren't making much noise anyway. Wanda pauses inside the kitchen to draw in a deep breath and catch the smells of the cooking. "There is, a rule. I think," she says, her English touched with soft notes of an Eastern European accent. "That the first person up shares their breakfast with the second person up," Wanda says. "They have this rule here I think," she says as if she hadn't been living here for several years already.

Wanda walks over nearer to Clint and inhales again. "Toast is burning, I think," she tells him slowly, eyebrows going up as she nods her head towards the toaster, a soft smile just short of teasing given to her teammate.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint startles at the sound of the unexpected voice behind him turning, egg splattered rubber spatula hoisted as if to throw before his brain catches up with his reflexes and he smiles sheepishly.

"Heya Wanda," Clint says rubbing the back of his neck as he can't help a glance at Wanda's wardrobe. "Really? You hear that's a rule huh?" he asks turning back to his food long enough to take the eggs off the burner. "Better not tell Thor that one. he eats like a horse..."

Then it hits him. "Oh right the toast," he says and quickly yanks up the lever to save the already scorched slabs of bread. He frowns at the state of them. "So, can I interest you in some toast?" he offers over his shoulder with a grin. "Anyhow, sure, I'll share, on one condition, Jan never hears about the dancing or singing, kay?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda holds up both of her hands in surrender as she's threatened with the spatula. "You've got me," she says in her typical slow delivery. "I came prepared for everything you might have in your quiver, but that," Wanda says before lowering her hands again.

"You know there's a store up in Westchester? Sells nothing but spatulas. And maybe a few other things for the kitchen. But most? Just spatulas," she says, shaking her head and grinning slightly at the memory.

Wanda goes to retrieve a pair of plates and sets them out for Clint to set the toast on. "Perfect. It'll remind me of Pietro's cooking," she says as he retrieves the darkened bread. "Lots of butter and jam I think?" she suggests, moving over to one of the refrigerators to retrieve the items. "It was such cute dancing though," she says, lifting her head to peek over the fridge door at Clint. "Are you sure? You know she'd probably pipe in some music into the training room next time."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint's eyes narrow at the redheaded Witch. "Is that 'I'm just an archer' joke?" he asks her teasing. True she could reduce him to a sooty smear on the floor in seconds if she wanted but he'd become used to rolling with that set. "And no shit, just spatulas? How the heck do they stay open?" his mind flitting quickly to that topic.

"And ouch. that hurt more than the archer dig, I am /not/ as bad as Petey," Clint says using his nickname for Pietro, one he mostly used becuase it pissed Pietro off. "How is grumpy pants these days anyhow?" he asks her. Clint had been away with Nat on one of their 'SHIELD things', which is about as much as either would speak about their work for SHIELD when it called them away from the mansion. This one had taken a bit almost a month, but, just like always he was back like nothing had happened.

Clint nods agreement about the butter and jam. "Want some of the eggs or bacon?" he asks her. "I feel like I owe you on account of the toast?" he asks, pausing to smile as his dancing is described as 'cute'. "Huh. I guess I can live with cute," he says with a smile. "Anyhow still not going to tell Jan, she's still not letting me live down that time at one of her parties..." they all knew the tale. "Anyhow, yeah, the less ammo she has for me the better."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda retreats from the fridge with a crock of real butter and also a jar of strawberry preserves. "Never 'just' an archer," Wanda tells Clintwith a shake of her head as she passes him by, the toppings snuggled in the crook of one arm until she sets them down on the counter.

Wanda gets a knife as she tells Clint, "Yes please, eggs and bacon both," she tells him, before shooing him over to the table with the other food as she takes care of the toast, her back to him. "Pietro. What is there to say about Pietro?" she asks.

"He is up in his room, passed out and drooling on his pillow. Or, he was ten minutes ago when I went to bug him about breakfast. Which means by now he could be in Russia for all I know," Wanda says with a soft laugh. The sound of the knife whisking across the overly crispy toast can be heard as she spreads the butter.

Wanda glances back over her shoulder to Clint. "I think that was the party that made me decide I should probably start attending her parties," Wanda says, giving Clint a teasing grin. She turns back to what she's doing, wielding that knife a bit more, and then finally turning to join Clit at the table. She sets his plate of toast down for him. She's taken the strawberry preserves and spread them generously on his toast in the shape of a heart. "Happy St. Valentine's Day," she says in her softly accented English.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Damn right," Clint about not being /just/ an archer. Hey at least someone got it.

He nods about the food and shakes his head at the bit about Pietro. "Yeah, literally," he says of him possibly being in Russia. The perks of being a speedster.

Smiling at the memory of that party, well the parts he could remeber about it anyhow... he nods. "Yeah, they're awesome" he says, before frowning thoughtfully. "Also really weird, at least for me, I mean I'm a kid from Waverly Iowa and here I am partying with the rich and famous, hanging out with them sort of feels like that time we got sucked through a portal to that Dali-eque dimension, just with better food. Just all so surreal, y'know what I mean?"

He dishes out the bacon and eggs snatching a strip of bacon to chew on as he does, which nearly falls out of his mouth when sees the heart on the toast.

"Wait it's Valentines day today?" he asks. Still jet lagged and out of sorts from his trip.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda settles into a seat, the sight of Clint nearly losing his bite at the sight of the toast making it more than worth the effort. She smiles as she settles into the seat, drawing one leg up so her foot is on the chair and her bent knee is sticking upright for her to lean on as she focus on the food. "Yes it is. I imagine there's probably a sack of letters with hearts from the girls of the city," she tells Clint. Avengers. Fan mail. It's a thing. Though Cap, Tony and Thor probably each get more than the rest combined.

Wanda wraps one arm about her leg and picks up her own toast, sans heart, but the strawberry topping thickly spread. "It is much the same for me, even now," Wanda says, speaking deliberately and giving each word its moment in the sun before going on. "Even with, living with my father," Wanda says, simple wording for placing herself at a Genoshan palace, "plus here? I'm still the girl who grew up in a wagon amongst the kumpania," she says with a small shrug. She bites into the very crunchy toast, her smile only slightly forced so it's complimentary looking towards the cook. "Mmm," she adds for good measure before starting on the eggs.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint spins his seat around so he can straddle it and rest his arms on the back like a cool guy in the 90's, nodding as he finishes his back and then helps himself to his heart toast. "Happy Valentines Day," he says once his mouth isn't full. "Got any plans?"

He groans at the mention of the fan mail, speaking of things that felt alien, "You have no idea how much flack I get at SHIELD for that stuff, I'm a spy who gets fan mail," he chuckles seemingly not minding SHIELD's consternation one bit. "Though it's a bit weird, I mean like who chooses to write to me? And I don't like thinking about it, but some of them put some real work into the stuff they sent I hate throwing it out... So far my solution is let it all sit in a box unopened."

"What was that like? Living in Genosha?" Clint asks sounding genuinely interested. "And like a legit wagon? Or like a beat up Vista Cruiser kinda wagon?" he asks. He'd lived a nomadic childhood too with Carson's Carnival of Wonders but at least they had cars and trucks.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda takes a bite of the eggs, afterwards giving a little motion of her head that signifies she's impressed without having to say it. "Very good, Clint," she says with a smile, before getting a piece of bacon to nibble.

"Oh yes, a real wagon,' she tells him. "Drawn by horses, some of them, though others by cars. We also had an RV for a spell. I'm still not sure where pappa got it. Pappa Maximoff that is," she says. Wanda takes a bite of the bacon and then sits up a bit.

"That reminds me," she says. One of her hands moves above the table, fingers moving in slow motion, almost as if pushing against something. Red light gathers, spreading around her hand and then it seems to coalesce, until it becomes a picture. Old and somewhat faded, showing a girl with reddish-brown hair and a boy with white hair, pants rolled up and a little threadbare, sitting on top of a van next to a beautiful raven-haired woman with more olive to her complexion.

Wanda passes the picture over to Clint. "Pietro and I with momma," she says of the picture. "One of the only keepsakes I have from then. And thanks to Agatha the only reason I have it."

https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DSjUVn_QOoI/TxCeqIBqwsI/AAAAAAAAImM/nA-7-OZx6EA/s1600/11tycf5.jpg

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint makes a 'mmm' of thanks and nods in reponse to the copliment. "Wow that's something, Carson's had horses for a bit, but when we travelled they were the ones in a wagon," okay trailer, "Part of the show and all of that. Never got to ride them," he says a tone a glance back in time to jilted teenager he was back in the circus. He really wanted to ride those horses.

Though he smiles at the little bit of magic that makes the photo appear in Wanda's hand, he leans over to take a look. "Wow your mom was hot," Clint says, because of course that would be the first thing out of Clint's mouth. Though despite that bitt of well, Clintness, there's a genuine appreciation of the photo and what it must mean to Wanda. "That's really great you have that momento of your mother," he says looking up from the picture to Wanda, smiling. "So, what happened with your family? I mean, how do you go from traveling with the Roma to living in the royal palace in Genosha?" he asks before adding a quick, "If you want to talk about it I mean."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda takes back up her fork to get some more of the scrambled eggs. She pauses, adding just a dash of pepper atop them before continuing to eat. "She was. A true beauty," Wanda agrees, smiling over towards the photo. "With a smile that could cut through a cloudy day and make it feel like the sun was out," Wanda says in a warm voice.

"She and Pappa Maximoff raised us. We didn't know that we weren't their children. Not until years later when Father dropped that revelation on us," Wanda says. She pauses, taking another bite, eyes going to the photo.

"We were usually poor. Pappa carved dolls. He was talented. The people of the region were always suspicious of the Roma though. Worried we'd steal their belongings. Believing tales of convincing their children to come away with us," Wanda says. She takes on a tone that is incredulous but tells the joke of it as she says, "Really, who wants to steal children? Do you have any idea how hard they are to take care of, and feed?" she says with a soft, scoffing laugh. "Well, sometimes other things were stolen though. They had that part right. But mostly just when... when someone's desperate to feed their children? What wouldn't they do?" she says, her voice falling a bit at the last part.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint glances back at the picture. "Sounds like a great lady," he remarks of Wanda's memories of her. He nods about the revelation, "So they both knew?" he asks her gently. Not sure if his curiosity is leading him into a minefield or not/

The bit about being poor and mistrusted. "Know how that goes," he says. "Carnies have the same rep. but to be fair to the people who were suspicious of us, we did steal a lot, and well, they took in my brother and I without too many questions and no legal authority, so I guess you could say they stole us."

He chuckles about how hard kids are to raise. "Wouldn't know but I've heard that from the suckers who've had them," he says with a shake of his head. "Trust me, no judgmement here, I've known that kind of desperate, and hell it's not like my hands are clean, I did a lot desperate things myself, and," he lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "Glass houses and all of that, yeah?" he says looking Wanda's way.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda Maximoff picks up her slice of toast again, the slightly over-cooked bread having quite the crunch to it even when softened by the butter. "They did not suspect we were mutants. Someone brought us to them. They had children before us, who were lost to them. So for momma and poppa it was... like having a second chance, I guess," Wanda says.

She takes a sip of orange juice to help wash the toast down. "They found out about us, eventually," Wanda says, her voice falling a bit further, as if portending unhappy turns in the story. Perhaps that's why Wanda doesn't go on. Maybe a story for another day? Instead she turns to what Clint was telling her.

"A similar life," Wanda says of Clint's descriptions. "What was your situation, that you turned to them in the first place?" she asks, turning in her chair a bit to face Clint more fully, focusing on the man more than the meal.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint attends to his bacon as he listens echewing a knife and fork to pick up and eat each piece by hand. Surprise registering when it's clear his guesses about things were wrong. "So neither of them were your re-," he clears his throat. "Blood parents?" he corrects himself having thought their mother had an affair with Magneto, but this was a much happier story.

Even jetlagged, a little tired and well Clint, Clint is able to pick up on the fact the story is about to take a less plesant turn and so when Wanda makes a sudden conversational bank towards his past, he takes that turn with her.

He considers her question a moment, chomping on some bacon as he does, "Parents died when I was eight and my brother Barney and I got sent to a boys home," he says his usually boyant tones growing slightly more subdued. "We weren't being adopted so Barney and I we decided to get ourselves out of there on our own and ran off to join the circus. I dunno why we figured it was a good idea, but it worked out, running with the circus was actually sort of fun. All the kids we met were jealous and when I started performing it was fun, so it was easy to overlook the rest of the stuff."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda picks up her orange juice glass, swiveling fully towards Clint's side now, that one bent knee still upright and serving as a chin-rest for the auburn-haired woman as she listens to Clint. Wanda takes a sip of the orange juice. The pulpy kind not the strained. "I guess that is something kids of that age would want to do," she says with a soft smile.

Wanda makes a motion towards Clint, gesturing with an open palm and fingers. "So obviously you learned to shoot a bow there? But never 'just an archer'. What other kinds of performing did you do?" the Scarlet Witch asks him.

She reaches over to get herself a piece of bacon, using her fingers as well. She eats about how speaks. Slow and deliberate. Giving each bite its moment before going back for another taste of the delicious bacon.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Yeah, mostly because it was new and we were dumb, 'cuz you know, kids," Clint grins at his younger self.

He nods, as he gets up for a glass of juice, his movements a contrast to Wanda's moving with a sort of careless grace, that hints at a disorganized mind hammered into grace through practice rather than by nature. He yanks open the fridge as he talks.

"Yeah, not just archery, they taught me acrobatics, a little bit of stunt bike work, whatever would put butts in seats," he says, "Oh knife throwing too. Though those bits always scared the crap out of me, worried I'd screw up and hit what I wasn't supposed to hit." Clearly a fear he's beaten, he's shot around most of the team by now in their various battles without even blinking.

"They taught me a lot about how to fight too, didn't question why even though we never used it any show."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda eats slowly as she listens. She's never really in a rush for food, though some might have noticed a small sweet tooth that she tries to keep hidden. The burnt toast was a good excuse to pile on the strawberry preserves.

"Mmm, and so..." Wanda says, pausing to get a sip of orange juice before continuing. "Obviously it's a skill set that served you well at SHIELD. But that's quite the jump to make, from carnival to there," the red-haired woman muses quietly. She eyes Clint. "Was this one of those... did some bad things and got caught by the good guys, sort of stories?" she asks him with a soft grin.

She was, herself, part of the Brotherhood. With her brother, and at a time Magneto was regarded as terrorist more than world leader. So there's a bit of understanding in her expression as she brings up the possibility of how she is guessing he might have ended upon his career path.

Clint Barton has posed:
If Clint notices the sweettooth he keeps it to himself, returning with a glass of the filtered kind of orange juice as he plops back down on his chair.

"Yeah, if it'd just been the carnival I don't think SHIELD would have ever looked twice at me, but then there was my exciting life of crime," Clint says, pointing at his nose when she guesses how things went down. "You remember that tidal wave thing like...wow ten years ago now, god I feel old, it sort of wiped out my carnival and after that Trickshot he took me on the road robbing criminals. That taught me a lot of useful spy stuff, surveiling marks, breaking an entering, that sort of thing. Anyhow funny thing is with all that robbing it was when I tried to go straight that I got caught by the law," he says, leaning forward now arms crossed on the back of his chair now that he's found a sympathetic ear.

"See, I broke from the crime thing and I guess I wanted to clear the red in my ledger by doing some good, so I figured I'd be a vigilante like that Green Arrow guy out in Starling, anyhow, it didn't go well, tracked some guys who burgled a jewelry store, took them down then tried to take their loot back, which is when the cops showed up. So there I am with a bag full of stolen gems, a bow and a homemade costume and I'm trying to tell them I was the good guy. Of course the crooks got caught too and all of them said I was in on it for a bit of payback, and I probably would still be doing time if SHIELD hadn't stepped in and pulled me out of the slammer and put me into Ops training."

He chuckles at the story. "Sounds like you've got a similar chapter in your book, huh?" he knew what was in the press and the stories flying around the mansion, but he'd never asked Wanda point blank about it before now.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
As Wanda Maximoff listens to Clint's tale, a light of amusement starts in her eyes. It grows ever brighter as Clint reveals more details. By the time he's mentioning his homemade costume Wanda can't stop the warm grin from spreading across her face.

She reaches over to rest her hand on Clint's arm. "That's so precious. Please tell me the police had bodycam footage of the moment?" she asks while laughing softly and shaking her head. "You don't still have this costume, by chance, do you?" she asks him, her green eyes flashing with a mirthful light.

Wanda pulls her hand back and gets her orange juice to sip. The amusement is still there, but tempered a bit. "I'm afraid our tale is not quite as suitable for a pleasant breakfast like this," she tells Clint, eyes dropping to her glass. After a moment she looks back up to him. "Ask me another time though, ok?" she tells him, expression letting him know she'll reciprocate in time. Just not this morning perhaps.

"Well, I'm glad that it brought you to us. Do you keep in touch with anyone from the circus still? Some of them made through that flood?" she asks, definitely remembering the devastating event.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint can't help but grin at Wanda's grin, he always enjoys telling a good story especially one about himself.

The question about there being bodycam footage gets a surprised and horrified look from Clint. "God I hope not, I am going to have to hit up one of the people on Coulson's team to make sure that's scrubbed... you know for, uh, national security reasons..."

As for the costume, he gives Wanda a deadpan look and says, "I am afraid that's classified." Which probably means its still out there FYI.

There's a nod for not wanting to tell her story, the message clear: not a problem.

"Yeah, thankfully it was mostly damage to our gear and having no insurance that did the carnival in, but we lost a couple," he says a grim note crossing over his face. His brother was amoung that number but he didn't want to talk about that now either. "Did pull Mr. Carson out of the water, we keep in touch. He's retired now, out in Jersey, so he's not too far. Otherwise, Diego and Pedro, our 'wolfboys' moved down to Gibstown in Florida after mutations really began to pop up everywhere, a couple of superhairy dudes didn't cut it when there were genuine wolf-people running around."

A shrug as if to say thems the breaks.

"Keep in touch with a couple of others, but I think they're a little afraid of me because I'm an Avenger, like I'm going to take them in for boosting stuff over a decade ago."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Clint keeps Wanda in soft amounts of laughter with his story. And when he is good with letting her tell her tale another time, he's given a grateful look from the Transian woman.

Wanda finishes her eggs and says, "Thank you. This was a very enjoyable breakfast," she tells him in her slowly delivered English. She rises and ferries the plates over to the sink, rinsing them off and putting them in a dishwasher, even though Tony pays people to do that.

She wanders back over near Clint. "It's nice to have you back in the mansion. Always a brighter place with you about. Happy Valentine's Day," she tells him with a light touch to his back between the shoulder blades. "And now I think I'm going to go pour water on Pietro. Or, maybe I'll just climb back in bed for a bit."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint offers a little bow like he was back at the circus, "Well, you're always welcome back to Chez Clint, where we serve the best burnt toast in New York," he boasts tongue in cheek.

"Good to be back," he says smiling over at her as she touches his back. "And you too," he says of a happy Valentines Day.

"Give me warning if you go with that first one," he calls after her before going back to his breakfast with a smile on his face.