5593/A moment to breathe

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A moment to breathe
Date of Scene: 15 March 2021
Location: Avengers Mansion - Study
Synopsis: Clint finds Wanda in one of her 'haunts' and after some conversation, they decide that time is best spent in each others' company.
Cast of Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Spring is in the air. The day's light is lasting a little longer, allowing for lights to come on in the mansion a little bit later. While the days are warmer, the evenings still hold a chill, and as a result, there is a cheery fire blazing in the fireplace. Candles instead of floor lamps are lit, the smaller flames bringing a gentler light to the room.

Wanda is in the room, dressed down in her long sweater, jeans, with flat tennis sneakers finishing the look. Red hair is tied back messily, with strands draped forward, framing her face as she reads a small paperback. The title is obscured by a small, delicate hand, her other turning the pages, her attention held by the words upon the page. Tea, mostly forgotten, sits upon the side table, the steam no longer fully evident.. the liquid now lukewarm.

Must be a good book?

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint Barton cracks the door open to peek inside, then smiles then he sees Wanda sitting there. For a moment he just quietly watches her, then seems to come to a decision. He opens the door the rest of the way and steps in, closing it behind him. Walking over to where she sits, he says quietly, "Hi Wanda... I've missed you."

He's dressed in what could be called his 'street clothes', boots, cargo pants and a denim jacket worn over a grey hoodie. He looks a little tired and worried, which is not something he lets just anyone see. Not the unflappable Barton, he's always on top of things, or so says his usual persona.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda can hear footsteps, can hear the *clicks* and *creaks* of the door, but it's not really registering with the book held in hand. The next page is turned, and it's not until she catches the sound of familiar bootfalls across the wooden floor, that she smiles as she looks up, setting the book aside to sit beside her forgotten drink. It's an expression that reaches her eyes; a happiness with the touch of relief.

"Clint," and the name conjures a warmth that touches her. She rises from her spot, reaching out first for his hand, "I have missed you too." Her words are lilting in that soft Eastern European accent as she continues, "I have worried about you." Sure, she knows and understands that he can be gone in a moment's notice, incommunicado for days, weeks, or sometimes months, but that doesn't mean she doesn't worry.

Also doesn't mean she likes it.

Green eyes narrow as Wanda takes him in, "You are well..." It's a question and a statement as if willing it to be so. (Dangerous territory, that!)

"Sit with me?"

Clint Barton has posed:
He reaches out and takes her hand without even thinking about it, a matter of reflex. They may have been apart for some time, perhaps even to the point of not being a couple any more, but it's all too easy to fall into familiar patterns. His fingers are as rough and calloused as ever, the same as the last time her hand was in his.

He lets her guide him to the chair beside hers, pulling it a little closer so they are sitting close together. He sighs, then looks up into her eyes and says, "Yeah, things are a bit of a mess at the moment. Like that's anything new, I suppose." As always, his training kicks in and keeps him from actually giving details on what he's doing if he doesn't think to override it.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
As soon as his hand is in hers, the warm, strong, callused hand is a welcome, familiar feeling. They seem to be apart a great deal more than together, but the moment they find the time to be together, the time spent apart is forgotten. Wanda leads him to the chair to sit, her attention not faltering as he moves. With each step, she's looking for hints, for signs of that 'not good' feeling that she is suddenly feeling.

Once placed, she sits down, tucking a leg up and under herself, not wanting to drop the contact. She shakes her head, the wisps of red hair moving in the action, "Is nothing new," she agrees, "but this.." and she gestures with a free hand, "you are tired." It's not hard to hear the concern within her words. She's not looking for details, really; she's not privvy to a lot of things, and she's good with that. Prying is not her thing, unless, of course, she truly feels that she could help; that she is needed.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Clint Barton has posed:
He's tempted.. very tempted. Her abilities could makes things go much more their way. But that's not why he came looking for her. If he wanted that, Stark, Banner, Thor, any of them are just a phone call away. Given that he's looking right at her, she can likely see his eyes flicker with hope and then darken slightly as he shakes his head.

"Not really Wanda, that's not why I'm here. I just.. wanted to see you. I feel like I've been away forever."

He shrugs a little, "Well, crap... you know how it is. Not always how we want it to be. But how have you been?"

It may mean nothing, but he hasn't moved to let her hand go either. Perhaps it's comforting, perhaps just familiar, or maybe something else, but he's apparently keeping the hand he was offered for now.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
There.. in those blue eyes of his, there and gone. In those moments, Wanda can feel a twinge in her chest in tandem with the hope and.. the shift. All she wants to do is to make things easier, to help, to do something, anything, that could alleviate the difficulties, the suffering, and have things better.

There lies a dangerous path.

Wanda lets out a sigh, a mix of light frustration that she //can't// help and a touch of wistfulness. The visit sounds as if it is going to be fleeting.

"It feels as if you have," Wanda agrees softly. "It has been," her words are slow in coming, deliberately spoken, ".. if Pietro was not here?" The meaning is clear, or should be. She, herself, knows and understands how close to the edge she's been, and then pulled back. "You should not worry for me, though." Wanda wants to be understood; she relies, but the guilt that rides on the back of that, particularly when Clint //feels// so weary?

She won't do that to him.

Shifting in her seat, Wanda puts on a game smile, the hand held still. "I know how it must be, yes. So, tell me.. the markets are opening again. Walk with me tomorrow? While you are home, I will make you dinner."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint is actually looking just a little better than he was. Perhaps just being reminded there's someone that cares past the general concern of co-workers helps. Whatever the reason, he smiles back at her and nods, "Well, I always have to worry about you a little, at least. But it's good Pietro has been here, I'm just sorry I haven't been for so long."

He's missed her, that much is clear. At the same time he seems hesitant, as if he's not sure how to approach their situation. For now, he just goes with the conversation and leaves the big questions to be sorted out in time.

Now this feels like familiar territory, and he's more than happy to take her up on the offer, "I'd like that Wanda. It'll be great to spend some time with you while I can. I don't know how long it will be until I'm called away, but until that happens, I'm all yours."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
There is no question that Wanda does truly care. She brightens visibly at the smile; the first that seems as if some weight had been lifted. Shaking her head, her words come pointedly; very matter of factly as she steels herself. "I will be fine, so there is no worry." Dipping her head, she searches his face, his eyes, "Okay?"

It's the apology, however; for things that can't be helped? Wanda exhales again in that wistful sound, and a single shoulder shrugs. "It is our life. Yours and mine." There's that hesitancy that she catches, and the feeling of uneasiness creeps in once more. While not completely dispelled with the following, it's easier to push it to the back of her mind.

The smile rises to her face once more, and the hand that she holds is given a squeeze. "Dinner for us. Maybe Pietro, if he promises to be nice to you." She's picking on her brother; all said in jest. "If he does not promise, he will starve." So there! "And, I will be happy to take all your time while you are home."

Clint Barton has posed:
He meets her gaze directly, then nods to her, "Ok, I'll take your word for it." His tone is warm and accepting of what she says... if she says she is fine, then she's fine.

The truth of he statement about their lives hits him and he chuckles a little, "Sad but true, we always seem to be being pulled in a million directions at once. One of these days I really need to get a desk job." As if he wouldn't go insane staring at four walls all day long. Sad truth is, he's always going to be tearing around the world until the day he isn't physically able to any more.

The smile pulls an answering one out of him, and he laughs, "Well, yeah, I would hope he'd be. And then it's decided, you officially have all of my free time. What do you want to do first?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda actually lets out a laugh, and reaches to run fingers through his short hair. "You will never get desk job. If you do, I will think it is not you and will go to find real you." Wasn't there news, hints and whispers in 'the community' about doppelgangers? "We are pulled in a million directions, yes.. with friends, family and responsibility," and her words are quieter with it. "With all the noise, it can still get lonely. Silence is nice. There is not enough silence."

Shifting in her spot, Wanda sets her feet on the ground, and stands up as a decision is made. "I would like to take a walk. Somewhere. Anywhere. I have been here too long, and I would like to go out." It's the gypsy in her. "With you."

Clint Barton has posed:
As she runs her fingers through his hair, Clint's eyes soften and he reaches up to catch her hand before standing as well. Another shrug and a wry grin crosses his face as he admits, "You're probably right, it's not my kind of thing." Now that he's got hold of both of her hands, he uses that to pull her a little closer to him, looking at her with a question in his eyes.

His voice is low as he agrees, "Silence is good."

Slowly, he steps closer to her, giving her the opportunity to move away should she wish to. If she doesn't, he finally lets her hands go free so that he can try to slip his arms around her.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"Probably," and the word is given lightly, teasing.

Wanda allows herself to be drawn closer, and with him so close, she can feel the warmth of him, almost hear his heart beating. Looking up at him, she reaches up to stroke his cheek with her thumb. It really is him.

"I have missed you."

She leans in, her hand dropping so she can give him an honest hug, and leans into the embrace. "And this," is added. Wanda takes a couple of breaths before she looks up, a ghost of a smile hinting, "Or this is nice, too. This and walk, you spoil me."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint's face lights up as he feels her against him, his arms tightening around her to hold her close. The reserve seems to drop away from him, and he looks deeply into her eyes before he whispers, "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

Another squeeze, and he adds in a more normal tone, "I like spoiling you, it makes me happy. And it's very nice, but if we keep this up, we won't make it to the walk." He leans in to try and kiss her gently, a natural extension of the embrace they find themselves sharing.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Green eyes meet blue in the embrace, and with his whispered words, her face seems to take on a light glow. There, the hesitancy, the indecision, the doubt seems to fall if only for the moment, that moment in a candle-lit study.

It's when he finds his more normal tone, that her smile lengthens and her words sound an affectionate tone, "You say that like it is bad idea." Still, she lifts herself onto her toes to return the gentle kiss. When it is complete, she lowers herself once more, but doesn't let go of her embrace. "I would still like walk," is said quietly. "To breathe, but to have you beside me?" One of her rocks. "Then, when we return, you can tell me stories by fire." Of the things he's allowed to tell, of course.

Clint Barton has posed:
He smiles and nods, "Now that sounds like a wonderful idea." He leans in to plant a quick kiss on the tip of her nose, then takes his arms from around her. He reaches down to reclaim one of her hands, and then leads her towards the door.

"So did you have anywhere specific in mind? Around the grounds, out into the city, what kind of walk do you feel like taking?" He opens the door for her, urging her through before stepping out of the study and closing the door behind them.