957/Catching Up With Clint.

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Catching Up With Clint.
Date of Scene: 03 April 2020
Location: Recreation Lounge: Triskelion
Synopsis: Clint and Natasha poke at each other's respective terrible ideas.
Cast of Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton




Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Contrary to popular belief, the gym is not merely used to half-symbolically vent out personal frustrations. There are are at least two humans on the active roster who need to stay in peak condition to be worth a damn, and luckily they get along well enough to take care of that business without any explosions.
    Usually.
    Afterwards, though, comes to cooldown period, and that usually means the rec room. It is, perhaps, a sign of comfort that Natasha doesn't have much of any expression on her face offhand as she wanders in, torn betweenthe couch and the passing urge to unplug the pinball machine pre-emptively.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint for his part, wanders in looking as easy as ever, hair still wet from the shower, exchanging his work-out gear for a simple t-shirt and jeans, so basically the standard Clint Barton uniform. He takes a pull from a bottle of water, and he smiles, reading Nat's aborted intentions for the pinball machine.

"You could always 'accidentally' shoot the thing?" he offers with a warm grin. He peers at the Pac-Man machine, smirking when Coulson is still the top score.

There wasn't a lot of time for idle chatter during training, not as had as Nat and Clint did it, so their cool down was usually when they touched base.

"So," Clint began taking a sip from the water bottle, grinning. "How's married life treating you?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha's expression - or lack thereof - doesn't change, but her head does tilt thoughtfully. "No, that's true." She says flatly. "Everyone gets one dramatic tantrum in here. I'm should cash in."
    Natasha's wearing a black sweater and a pair of black slacks and socks, apparently preferring to cover up. Maybe it's a Russian Winter instinct, indoor heating be damned.
    "Nmf." Natasha makes a small sound in her throat, squinting a tiny bit in the clearest sign she's willing to share that it's an embarrassing topic. "... It's... treating me." She shrugs as she half leans half sits against the corner of the billiards table. Normally that's where Nat leaves it, but Clint gets an automatic pass to what that actually means. "... Literally. It's... a lot more comfortable than I'm used to. Even with the campaign stops."
    'Comfort', in this case, may amount to 'not as many halo drops, high stakes cover, or gun fights, but still. Also, not the complaint one might expect given the Starky circumstances.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint grins, "Definitely worth cashing in that chit," he says re the pinball machine. "If I didn't throw mine away early I'd have wrecked the foosball table over Loki." He shakes his head.

As Nat leans against the billiards table Clint joins her, crossing his arms and looking over at his partner, trying to read her while she speaks. An exercise in futility, but every so often he's caught thing she didn't intend to let slip. Or so he thinks anyhow. "Well, guess you were due for a comfortable mission. How's the raised profile treating you? I know you usually like being out of the spotlight when you can help it."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha's eyelids narrow at Clint's comment as she looks at him, in roughly the way they might if she were smiling. Regarding her assignment she nods once. "... I've had to bring out Nice Nat. A lot." As if on cue, her entire demeanor changes to a sort of sweet, slightly out-of-her-depth friendliness and positivity, and she smiles kindly, eyes lighting up. "And, I mean, there's so much travelll, and all this planning, but, y'know, you see so many *places*, and you meet so many people, and they're all just *so* nice and it's- it's really- it's been SO amazing. and-" Natasha's face and voice return to neutral and she says, "-it's exhausting."
    SHIELD usually only calls on Nice Nat when they need to put someone at ease. And then terrify them. Usually in the same meeting.
    "Tony seems to like it, though."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint chuckles warmly as Nice Nat is brought out. It's a flawless performance, but for someone so used to how she usually is it's a little frightening. Like a dog standing up on its hind legs and talking. A good show, but just so wrong.

"That's scary," he remarks with a grin and takes a sip of his water. "And I bet Stark does," he says about liking the Nice Nat act. "So, how many times have you had to put him in an arm lock for forgetting this whole wife thing is a cover?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha affects an almost apologetic, if entertained, little look for the demonstration - the little things that are harder to guess unless she shows you, even if you know her pretty well. She could pass for normal if she wanted to; and she puts more effort into it with the Avengers, and more still for normies, but... if she doesn't have to, she prefers not to.
    Clint's question, however, makes her go silent for a moment, with her briefly stalling with a sip of water from her own bottle. Natasha has never been slow to lie, but in this case - with Clint - she's forced to wonder if that's... appropriate.Even if it's just a lie by omission.
    So that might seem odd.
    After a second though, she shakes her head and just decides to answer the question that was asked. "... Zero, so far." she says softly. "I think the act confuses him a little, but... he seems to know where to keep his hands."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint's brows raise a little at that, Tony? Self-control? Now that's shocking! Though the little bit of hesitation isn't missed and while he chuckles at the idea of Tony being on his best behavior, he can't help but ask point out. "You tripped up there for a second there," he says, his voice becoming more serious, not upset, but professional, like he was pointing out a dangerous tell to his partner rather than chiding her for holding something back. Their life was all about secrets, holding back was part of it, but if it made Nat pause, he figured it was something bigger than the day to day.

"If it's classified, no big, but if you want to get something off your chest, you know I'm here."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha's lips form a flat line as her hesitation is noted, and very very slowly and deliperately swats herself on the wrist in a quiet show of acknoledgement, before she says "I'm losing my touch. That's bad news. I'm second or third in line to rule Midgard. Can't be this soft."
    She's... mostly kidding, in that dry, 'Nat', 'doesn't have to feign traditional humanity to anybody' way.
    She shakes her head and says. "It's not classified. it's just... dumb. Just kinda dumb. Still sorting it out. That's all." Seeming to imply she doesn't want to go into it. She's had four years away from the Red Room and is only just starting to come out of her shell to anyone but Clint, and it's... weird for her. That or she's just going soft. Same difference, really, when you used to be the Russian Boogeyman of espionage.
    She shrugs her shoulders and says, "How are you and Wanda holding up?" Which is to say, mostly, 'how is Clint holding up', but she knows that's important to him.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Most people wouldn't notice, but I'm me," Clint assures her, knowing that Nat would no doubt work on her tells anyhow, no matter what he told her.

"Wow, that's a switch, I'm usually the one trying to hide something dumb," he says with a grin. He doesn't push though except to say. "When you sort it out, let me know? I am going to be trying think what is until you do." He could make wild ass guesses at what it might be, but none of them as wild as the truth in this case.

The question about Wanda is appreciated for what it is, "We're good," he says of him and the mutant. "Surprisingly stress free, I figured the most human superhero dating a Princess of Genosha would be a horror show, but so far so good, Pietro hasn't even punched me yet," he smiles, but then Clint had been carrying a torch for the red haired witch for almost as long as she and her brother were Avengers. "I really should have made a move sooner."

He shrugs, before he says, "As for me," he sighs. "I have a really dumb idea, so of course Scott helped me come up with it. But I think I am going to go see Loki, with a little magical protection from Wanda, see if there's some way to maybe use his magic to uh, fix things."

He flinches, knowing how it sounds. "Like all of it. All the death he caused. The people he and I killed. If it's possible."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha... appreciates Clint not guessing. In their line of work, stopping yourself for pressing for intel must feel like pulling teeth, but Natasha values her privacy, and appreciates that, given her past, her privacy could be perceived as... risky.
    So she smiles, a little. In that 'I can't actually stop this from happening' way that overrides her conditioning. So that's nice.
    "He'll get around to it." She says of Pietro punching Clint, as if it's meant to be reassuring, nodding slowly as Clint speaks. "... I'm glad. You deserve a win." She says sincerely, then adds, "Wanda, too." She's not as close with Wanda as the assortment of soldiers and one of the extroverts who got in Nat's business, but if she matters a lot to Clint, then she matters a lot to Nat by proxy.
    That said, Nat only tends to tell comforting lies to people she's about to maul - figuratively or otherwise - and her brow furrows as Clint speaks, and she says, "... That... is a horrible idea, Clint."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint knows better than to poke at Nat's private life, it's part of the give and take of their partnership. That smile though gets a warm chuckle out of Clint and he nudges her shoulder, a sign of appreciation of that little loss of control.

"Thanks," he says with a smile of his own for the bit about deserving a win. "You do too, you know?" he prompts.

As for the idea? His face falls. "Really? Given Stark's running for President and Cap is king of Earth or something, I figure it was about par for the course these days." He frowns, lifting his hands uselessly. "I figure I owe it to the people I-" he begins and changes track. "That he killed to at least try, it may not be possible but I've got to try. I mean I can't kill the guy, the team doesn't care, so I figure if we're all selling out to Asgard, then might as well try to get a little back for our trouble, right?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha closes her eyes for a moment when Clint returns the sentiment, and says "Working on it.", being vague but... positive. For awhile she'd thought she was just swapping out for kinder masters, with slightly more constructive purposes, but she's come around a bit to being... valued. Worth some of the air she's borrowing. Chasing terrible ideas and keeping them secret. That sort of thing.
    Natasha frowns when Clint nearly takes credit for the victims - a subtle distinction that Natasha has firmly insisted he not take the blame for ever since he came back to his senses - and shakes her head. "You don't owe anyone anything, Barton." She says, almost harsh in her certainty. "The team cares, they just don't... *get* it. But they want him gone. Thor's even trying to figure out if he can get him off this planet and clear his debt by... figuring out how to get Earth declared independant from Asgard. Just an ally. *Nobody* wants this Lord of Midgard stuff, Clint. Cap doesn't want it, Stark- I practically had to talk Stark off a ledge when he heard it, we just... we're trying not to panic. Odin takes it personally when you turn down his generosity."
    That said, she sighs. "... I don't know if Loki can bring people back, Clint. I... she hesitates again, but less out of secrecy, and more because she knows how bad this sounds: "I don't even know if he should."

Clint Barton has posed:
Working on it is enough for Clint, he doesn't need to know more. Well, for now anyhow.

"I feel differently," Clint says about who he owes what. He let Loki get the better of him and people died, that red was in his ledger. He couldn't escape that, Loki being a god or not.

The rest, is actually, somewhat reassuring and it shows in Clint's face as he looks up from where he'd been staring at his hands. "Well, guess that's what I get for skipping meetings," Clint says about the whole Asgard business. "May have to consider voting for Tony again, figured when there wasn't some plan to blow up that rainbow transporter beam Asgard uses, he was rolling over for our big bearded overlords."

He frowns at himself, a little bit more guilt being added to the pile for doubting his friends.

"I still want to try," he says not disagreeing with her. "I mean, how could I live with myself if I didn't? It'd be like seeing them hanging from a ledge, then walking away and letting them fall. I mean, if he can't do it, then he can't do it. But if he can, we need to try, /I/ need to try."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    That relief is something; though Natasha's starting to think they need an Avengers Newsletter or something. At least for SHIELD to see.
    Natasha can't fault Clint too much on... not letting go. Putting what she's done behind her is the only way Nat can even pretend to sleep at night, and even then it's more of a policy than something she's actually accomplished. If anything, having a smaller body count to cope with probably makes it harder to make cruel-feeling decisions like that. You can turn and run from a legion because you have to. It's harder to turn your back on a group of comrades.
    "... I feel like I could save you some time by having that conversation with you right now." She says softly. "I think you'd punch me, though." She's pretty good at imitating cadence and body language. Just ask Nice Nat. "... Maybe he'll be desperate enough to leave by now that he'll be willing to do something. But Barton..." she sighs softly, considering her words. "... he's *going* to toy with you. He can't lie anymore, but he's clever, and he fundamentally does not respect us. So... be ready for that."
    There's a pause, then. Nat barely has to say this, because she nearly takes it as a given, but she says, "... I'll back you up if you need me. He won't take me seriously, though. ... Already tried to give him a kick in the ass to stop being so 'clever' and just focus on being useful enough to get off our planet, but..." Natasha shrugs a little. "... Everything's someone else's fault."

Clint Barton has posed:
A newsletter might actually help. That and Clint reading the team's AARs.

And it was damned hard to let go when you knew the people you were made to kill. Not to take away from the hurt Nat felt for her many victims, but he could still hear their voices, see their faces, remembers details about the lives he'd ended on Loki's orders. Anderson's kids, how happy Murphy was she'd made level 3, how Rodriguez was a die hard Mets fan and on and on. They had been people he knew, who had trusted him. Now they were dead. What wasn't worth doing to bring them back?

He nods, "I can live with toying with me, with trying to piss me off enough so I actually try to kill him, but as long as there's a chance he can do what I hope he can do, then I need to give it a go."

He nods about the offer of backup. "I'd like that," he says. "I know Scott would go with me but I don't want him in the line of fire, he has a kid. Gonna talk to Wanda too, she might be able to do something to protect us from mind control." Or she might veto the idea entirely. "Speaking of, if I suddenly don't want to do this anymore, she's mind whammied me," he says lightly, knowing she wouldn't really.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Quality over quantity, as far as guilt goes. They may be about even. Trouble is Natasha doesn't have as strong an idea of who deserved it and who didn't, so she's not in a rush to bring anyone back.
    ... Plus there's... to many names to keep track of.
    Natasha gives a soft huff through her nose and affects a bit of a smirk when strategic mind-whammies are brought into play. "I'll give you another few good smacks to wake you up." She says flatly. "Maybe tranq her if I get the chance, but I'd prefer to understand *magic* better before I start rubbing wizards the wrong way." Sometimes she misses the days when the scariest random thing in the world was a car bomb.

Clint Barton has posed:
Even with quality over quantity when it comes to guilt, he does not envy Nat hers, a sea of blood to drown her dreams in.

He smiles in return. "Yeah, even dating a witch, I still don't get magic, it's weird," he says with a shake of his head, clearly missing the simpler times as well.

Though it seemed somethings were still simple, like Nat had his back and he had hers, no matter what. It was an anchor in these crazy times.

"So, whip you at a game of pool before we call it a day?" he asks her with a grin. Then a smirk and a look towards the offending machine. "Or maybe some pinball?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha closes her eyes and siiiiighs while reclining backwards in the air over the billiards table for a moment. "... Sure, challenge the world's premiere judge of velocity and precision to a game of accuracy. I haven't been bullied in awhile." She says somewhat breezily. She's no joke at pool, but Clint's... Hawkeye. She'll need, like, a three shot handicap just to get a proper turn in.
    Pinball makes her squint a bit, though. "You watch your mouth."