5719/Told You It Would Be Quick

Told You It Would Be Quick
Date of Scene:	25 March 2021
Location:	Avengers Mansion - Study
Synopsis:	Clint returns to Wanda after a mission. Sandwiches and tea are completely ignored.
Cast of Characters:	Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff

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Clint Barton has posed:
Clint got back to the mansion about an hour ago, but did not immediately seek out Wanda. Rather, he dropped his stuff off in his room and, once JARVIS told him where Wanda was, headed down to the kitchen, where he's been making a bit of a mess ever since. He's now prepared, and is on the move.

He nudges the door of the study open and maneuvers inside with a tray. On it is a teapot, two teacups and a couple of sandwiches. It's not what Wanda might call cooking, but it's food at least, which it's always possible she has forgotten to bother with when distracted.

"Hi dear, told you it would be quick. In, out, minimum of fuss. I'm actually kind of waiting for something else to go wrong, it was a little too easy."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Really, if Wanda isn't ensconced in her room, she's in the study upstairs. It's her version of being 'social', after all, even if she is still alone. Candles are scattered around her seat, the fire in the fireplace offering up a cheery glow, lighting the room when the ceiling lights are off.

Wanda, once again, is dressed down even more than usual. She's got a loose t-shirt on, leggings, and unlaced canvas tennis shoes. Red hair is down, hanging over her shoulders as she reads, her progress nearing the end of her paperback.

Bootsteps herald the approach of a certain archer; Wanda would know the sound anywhere. The moment the first creak in the step is heard, her head rises from the written word on the page, looking at the door in expectation.

The tray.. and she offers a warm smile at the figure balancing tray and manipulating the door. It's too cute to actually help him, but Wanda really can't help it.

The book is placed to the side on the end table, and she uncurls, setting feet on the ground.

"I think this is record," is teased, the sound affectionate. "If something goes wrong, I will make right."

Clint Barton has posed:
Seeing her there in the golden-red firelight just reminds him how lucky he is. He makes his way over to where she sits, putting the tray down on a table as well, then puts a hand on each arm of the chair Wanda is in, leaning down to kiss her. It lingers for a few moments before he breaks it to lean his forehead against hers and say warmly, "Well, with you waiting for me back here, why would I linger?"

He raises his head from hers, then smiles and brushes his hand across her cheek, tucking an errant strand of her hair back behind her ear. He reaches back and drags another chair closer to hers and sits down, close enough that one of his legs is against hers.

"I brought various tea components, and a couple of sandwiches, just in case you were hungry." He peeks over to see what she's reading, "Anything interesting, or just killing time?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"Why?" Wanda repeats the question softly, her head canting lightly even as foreheads are gently touched, "To be sure job is finished," is murmured. "You do not leave anything half done." Her head tilts to rub agains the touch of his hand as it moves strands of hair before she reaches a hand up to rest it upon his.

When Clint break the contact, Wanda takes the opportunity to help shift her seat a little to meet him. "Sandwiches?" The gesture isn't lost on her, certainly, and in the question, green eyes shift to the book. It's a thick paperback, and one that has a few dogearred pages. "It.. it is not a magic book." It's honestly more like a light romance novel... something snuck in for casual reading.

Turning to face the archer, Wanda's got her hand out for his once more when he's close. There appears a consideration for a moment before she rises from her seat and moves to sit beside him on the smaller chair, "Tell me what you can about your mission."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint takes her hand with a smile, settling her into the chair beside him. His other arm goes around her shoulders, gently urging her to rest against him as he sits back. The tray sits, unimportant in the grand scheme of things considering he's got Wanda held close.

"Well, let's see." He entwines his fingers with hers while he thinks over the details he can share. "For starters, we had help, which made things way easier. Apparently a group from the Teen Titans was tracking the same people we were and showed up right when we did." He chuckles, then moves his hand down from her shoulder to lightly poke her in the side, "You sure you didn't do anything? That was some amazingly lucky timing" he teases the young witch in his arms.

"Anyway, they came in so noisy that they pulled almost all the guards to them, so our team was able to get in, find what we were looking for and get them out.. 6 kidnapped girls rescued." He purses his lips, eyes looking troubled before he looks over to her. "And maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but Nat is involved somehow. It's why she's been missing. I _think_ there's a double of her or something, because she was there... and I shot her. She didn't seem to recognize me at all. SHIELD's got her now."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
It's only been a few days since she's been held in Clint's arms, but once again, she melts into them as he shifts her slightly to better position. The food is ignored for the moment in preference to the closeness shared.

Wanda smirks and shakes her head quickly, adding, "Was not me. I do know a few Titans, though. Not well, but I do know them." And it's been a little while, actually, since she's seen them. It's just been.. difficult lately. "I promised I would not interfere unless you called to me." She knows he's joking, teasing her, and she squirms slightly as she gets comfortable once more, listening to the brief story of his absence.

"Nat.."

The girls are friends, after a fashion. It's been timing; she's been gone at times, Natasha has been gone at times (she's gone more than Clint, it seems!), and the pair hardly are in the same place at the same time for very long. The news that Clint had been the one to shoot her, though, gains a frown, her expression saddened. "I am glad, at least, it was you. It was a kindness." There's an intensity to her softly whispered words, "You did the right thing. I wish I could see her, and perhaps help." SHIELD, however, probably wouldn't be too keen on the idea, either to admit they have her OR to have Wanda in the Triskellion, unless properly supervised.

"Was it acting, or honestly not recognizing you? She is very good, for reason."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint shrugs, which has the effect of bouncing her a little since she's laying against him. A breath is puffed out, and he shakes his head, fingers of one hand tracing lightly, randomly up and down her arm.

"All I know is, she contacted me about two weeks ago through an old frequency we had set up, and asked us to attack this base, rescue the girls and set off the alarms because she wanted a distraction for what she was doing. She told that if I saw her, I should shoot her. So that's what I did. I'm sure it wasn't really her, but I'd swear she has an identical twin. Maybe they cloned her or something, I don't know."

Again his eyes go a little distant, thinking, and he says, "She's playing this way too secret. I think she's in trouble, but there's nothing I can do, and I hate it." He comes back to the here and now and kisses Wanda lightly, "Probably exactly how you feel when I go off on another of my missions." He gives her an apologetic smile, knowing just how she feels. It's a helpless feeling, something he's very not used to being. This is the guy who holds his own around the likes of Thor and Captain America, he doesn't do helpless well.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda leans her head against his shoulder again, her muscles relaxing as they talk. It's nice; talking shop but.. not really? It's lives, lives of friends, lives of those who need their help that are discussed and considered out of concern.

"Perhaps she knew something would happen to her, and it is her?" Wanda doesn't know, and her voice lowers, "It is something HYDRA would do. Take people, change personality. If she volunteered because would save others?" She's not all that sure that more than a few people wouldn't do such a thing if it meant saving innocents. Emerald eyes narrow, and she looks into crystal blue eyes, "Something you would do too, if you knew friends would come to rescue you."

There's no cheering him from those thoughts, but it's something that she loves about him. Loyalty. Devotion to those whom he trusts. She chuckles softly, the sound coming gently from her throat.

"And same way when I cannot explain how I am feeling." Wanda ghosts a smile, and she leans to kiss his jaw, her lips just brushing underneath. "We simply trust. It is hard not to do, but sometimes it is best not to do."

Clint Barton has posed:
He lets out a deep sigh, trying to let go of the frustration he's feeling, but isn't entirely successful, probably because he's still talking about it. "I don't think so. This Nat was training the girls to be assassins. And there were fewer of them than we expected, and you only leave that program one way. Plus, she was planning an attack elsewhere, so I'm sticking with clone."

He looks over at her, "How much do you know about Nat's training, the program that created her, did she ever talk to you about it? I want to tell you more, but I don't think I can give her secrets if she hasn't shared them already." This is the exciting life he leads... can't even tell the woman he loves what's going on with one of her friends. Secrets inside secrets. Some days he really thinks hard about retiring. He could still be an Avenger, after all.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda shakes her head in prelude to a response, "I do not know much," and there's that ghosted smile, "Like many do not know much of me and my brother." They all hold their secrets, after all.

It's an understanding nod, and her voice murmurs, "It is okay. I understand that it is not your secret to tell, and I would not ask it of you." She can hear the frustration in his tones, can feel it coursing through his body in the random tenseness as he speaks.

"Tell me, then, what it is you would rather do while you are free once more." How's that to change the subject? "What can I do?" We do? "We can plan trip, leave city perhaps? Go somewhere?"

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint nods, "No story then, got it. Oh! If a pretty blue eyed blonde Russian girl comes looking for me, do something incapacitating to her. Apparently she's the Russian's new Black Widow. Nat warned me about her while we were talking about this mess."

He buries his face in her hair, breathing in her scent as his arms tighten around her. "No more work talk, I just want to be here with you." He holds that position for a minute or two, holding her close, filling his senses with her, and by degrees, his body relaxes. Finally he raises his head from her flame tinted hair, reaches a hand up put a finger under her chin and tilt her face to his so he can kiss her again. This time it's deeper, longer, carrying with it his feelings for her.

When it finally ends, blue eyes meet green, and his finger traces the line of her jaw. With a slightly wicked smile, he murmers, "Now there's a dangerous question indeed."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Eyes narrow at the request, and Wanda looks into those clear eyes of his, trying to gauge if he's joking or not. The cadence, the //feel// of the words may sound lighter, but the message? "I will turn her to dust." Why does that sound more of a promise than a threat? It doesn't sound very heroic, however, and Wanda exhales in a sigh, acknowledging that fact. "Maybe not kill, but she will not harm you." That, anyway, is a promise. "Now, I am warned." See? Easy!

When Clint finally decides work talk should wrap up, Wanda is more than happy to follow suit. The kiss is such that there are those silent promises made, the deep feeling echoing the embrace. It's easy to fall away, and she does, curling and reveling in the warmth.

A soft laugh rises from the witch, and she gives him a mock stern look that melts before him. "I did mean.." There's a pause before she moves, the beginning of moving off the chair beside him and onto the floor. A hand is held out,

"Then we will talk about it a little more.."

Clint Barton has posed:
Her hand is accepted with a smile, and he slides out of the chair and joins her on the floor in front of the fire. There is a moment or two of adjustment, and then he pulls her onto his lap and slides his arms around her, leaning in to kiss her gently. "If you want, though I'm not entirely sure much more talking is needed at the moment."

One hand ghosts up her spine to slip under her hair and tease over the nape of her neck as he looks deeply into her emerald eyes. When he leans in this time, the kiss is stronger, more primal. He catches her lower lip between his teeth, giving just a light tug before releasing it. One corner of his mouth quirks up into a crooked grin as he says, "Are you sure talking is what you want to do?"

He raises his voice just slightly, his eyes never leaving hers, "JARVIS, lock the door, would you?" Shortly after, any further words are unneeded.