9015/Snack Time!

Snack Time!
Date of Scene:	09 December 2021
Location:	Food Court: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Bobbi and Clint meet again. It goes about as expected.
Cast of Characters:	Bobbi Morse, Clint Barton

---

Bobbi Morse has posed:
As with any large organization, SHIELD has no less of a foot traffic issue when it's time for lunch. Even with an expansive selection of food stations and even seating areas, the queing is significant. To that end, there are those who feel themselves to be savvy in the ways of the lunching arts. Commander Morse is one of those who finds waiting to be an exercise in frustration and so has made her way down to find a meal or at least a snack an hour or so prior to the typical lunch rush.

She's dressed in a smart looking dark navy pant suit and perfectly polished low heeled dress shoes. Slowing as she nears the arranged snack cakes, cookies and power bars, she taps her chin and begins to ponder her selection.

Clint Barton has posed:
What makes sense after spending a couple hours at the range making sure you can -still- hit the bullseye everytime?

Some grub, that's what.

Clint is dressed in standard issue gear, running a hand through fresh cut hair as he walks through the cafeteria. Some of the other agents recognize the double-time Avenger immediately, as well as recognize him as a level 7. He's not a commander, but he's damn close.

He gives a two-finger salute to some, even as he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, and he spots a familiar agent getting some snack cakes.

"Morse, good to see you." Clint casually greets her with almost none of the deference usually awarded to her station. That's a benefit of friendship, right?

....right?

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi Morse glances up at the voice, "... Barton" she replies with a nod and a mild smirk. "You've graced us with your presence. Does that mean they've voted you off of the island? Or did you miss us enough you had to come back just to see our smiling faces?" She picks up a pack of frosted, filled, snack cakes. The package crinkles with that distinct sound only junk food wrappers ever make.

"It's good to see you too. Everything going going okay?" she asks with a glance toward him.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Oh good, you remembered me. I was afraid I'd have to put an arrow in your food to jog the memory." Clint replies with a bit of a friendly smile, though he shrugs a shoulder. "You know, I think it's largely been because I've missed you guys. Besides, it's too crowded where the rest of the team is to really train in peace." He smirks a bit, but otherwise doesn't quite rub anything in or show off.

Contradictory.

"So far so good. How about you? Managing the place without me?"

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi Morse smirks, "At least you said food, not foot. This time." She ah-ah's - "So you /did/ miss uss. You're gettign soft in your old age, Barton." She lowers a hand to pat his stomach, "And maybe a few too many snacks. I'll have to put in for a few extra hours of PT. Just to make certain..." she says brightly with a sweet little smile. "I know how you love to show off all your well oiled and spray tanned muscles for the ladies." Then she rolls her eyes, "I'm not in charge. Thankfully. I'm just the Boss of You. There's even a little trademark symbol after it. Makes it all official and everything."

Clint Barton has posed:
"You sure you didn't confuse me for Thor?" replies Clint cheekily to talk of showing off for the ladies, and it makes Clint smirk a little bit to himself, especially as he collects his food. The pat to his stomach is met with a light scoff. "You just wanted to feel my abs." Clint shoots back.

Her being the boss of him? That earns an indifferent shrug. "You're probably nicer tahn May. So I'm fine with that." Clint mentions with a bit of a smirk. "Though if you tell me to drop and give you fifty, You'll have to use your commander voice."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi Morse shakes her head innocenty, "Feel your abs? That would be a violation of protocol between a commanding officer and her cannon fodder. No fraternization; you know how it is" she says all serious-like.

"Oh May is very much nicer than me as a commander. So you'll just have to keep your last will and testament up to date before any field ops with either of us."

She begins to ponder that Drop for 50 idea when her phone chirps. SHe pauses to look at it, "Well now I'm late for my next briefing update. I'm telling Director Carter it is entirely and unquestioningly your fault, too." She smiles sweetly then winks. She turns to buy her snack so she can scarf it down on the way to her meeting but she calls back, "It was nice to see you, Barton. Stick around more than a few days hmm? We'll get you out in the field to earn all those fancy gadgets."