Owner	Pose
Clint Barton	It's been a day since the capture and arrest of the Myasnikov brothers, and the place looks a little different in the light of day. Down at the docks of Brooklyn, there are a couple of shipping houses that have a 'police line, do not cross' emblazoned across the front with minimal police presence. Three black SUVs are still present, though upon their approach, there is a flatbed from NYPD arriving, driving through checkpoints. It's not hard for the SHIELD agent and the Avenger to go through the lines; all Clint has to do is show his ID and they offer the grand tour, even though he is dressed down for the occasion. He's in his 'usual', that is, a pair of jeans, purple t-shirt under a light jacket, and a pair of sunglasses cover those blues of his. As they pass through, Clint is allowing Wanda to enter the location first, his hand reaching towards the small of her back in a gentle, casual, familiar 'lead'. Pointing with his free hand, he gestures towards one of the larger buildings that has an egress directly to a boat at the pier, "That's the place."
Wanda Maximoff	Wanda is fond of dark colors and deep reds, even if it's still considered the end of summer. Might sometimes appear out of place for half the year, but it's a color palette that she's comfortable with. The black dress rests above her knee, laces on the front, a faded red jacket over the top. Even 'dressed down', it's hard to miss her distinct style. As they move past the cordoned off areas, she lets Clint take the lead until he indicates the building. "That one?" She takes a moment to observe the building, her gaze sweeping it before she looks back over at Clint with a tiny quirk of a smile. "You always take me to the nicest places." It's a soft, teasing tone accompanied by the hint of amusement in the look she flashes him. He has indicated their destination, so she starts to walk in that direction, though she's in no rush.
Clint Barton	Clint makes a considering sound briefly before a smirk rises, "Looked better at night. Candles, maybe?" He shrugs, keeping his tones light, but everything else about the man is on alert. Not 'high', but his head 'is on a swivel', and he's keeping his eye out for anything that might look out of place. NYPD looks right, forensics look like they're working and not looking over their shoulders... Check and check. While he's not carrying a bow, he is carrying a pistol, and while he's not got his preferred weapon, he's deadly all the same. And coupled with Wanda? The large building is cordoned off as well, and on approach, Clint spins around halfway to walk backwards for a couple of steps, looking up at where he'd been last night. Placement was right. It's only three or so steps before Clint turns back around, and once they get to the door, he turns the knob, ready to head in. Just ignore the blood drips on the ground by the SUVs...
Wanda Maximoff	Wanda's alert, but her alertness looks a little more relaxed than his. The way she sweeps her gaze around the area is certainly a familiar indicator that she's keeping abreast of the situation. The subtle move of her hands at her side are also an indicator in spite of her calm demeanor. She doesn't seem too concerned, however, regardless of the presence of any dried blood. Just an ordinary casual stroll through a building, right? "As far as locations though, I am not impressed." She nods her head in the direction of the boat, just out of sight from their angle. "Though I imagine anything of interest would be over there."
Clint Barton	Clint opens the door for Wanda to duck under the tape, and he's under and in as well. Within? Looks like there was something of a fight. Papers, desks.. and that long corridor to the docks beyond. "Figured our boys would have stripped the place, but they're not into scattershotting," that is, getting all the paperwork and looking to see what else is going on. "I just don't trust 'em." There's a pause and a lopsided smile before, "There are exceptions." It's an easy shrug, then, before Clint starts to look at desks, just a general scan of the immediate area before getting to the more specific. At the mention of the boat, however, a chuckle exits the man before, "Okay, we'll hit the boat." He's not being condescending, but the magic wielder IS from the mountains. Boats on oceans is kind of new. Of course, he can't talk. There's not too many boats in Iowa either.. "Let's hit the dock, then. Who knows? Might be for sale." Boat.. more like something a little //larger//. "Okay," as they get closer, "we're getting into Stark territory on the asking price. Guess it's out of the question unless I start working some serious overtime."
Wanda Maximoff	The boat might have been mentioned out of pure curiosity, mostly because Wanda just wanted to have a peek at it. It might, after all, hold something important. Or it just may be a 'boat'. As they head in that direction, the auburn haired woman tilts her head to gaze at it just a bit. "More overtime than you already do?" The playfulness is still in her tone, though it's measured with her usual calm. The boat certainly does look more larger up close. "There is something relaxing about the water." It's something of an aside than anything, something she doesn't quite follow up on. Instead, she seems to have pulled her focus back to the ship itself. "You know, I have heard sailors tell stories about the myriad of places they would hide things from superior officers while on duty. You could hide anything in here."
Clint Barton	Clint is all for boats. Big ones, little ones- maybe one day he'll charter a boat and go fishing. One day. Today's not that day, though. Clint's set into an easy stride beside Wanda, and as they approach, he's got that brief smile, "Maybe I should go for a raise instead? Doubt the Old Man is feeling this sort of generous," is given with a gesture towards the water. It's when she mentions sailor stories that he looks to her again, brows rising in askance. "Oh?" Women get the best intel; everyone brags to them. "Anyplace in particular?" Clint pauses at the gangplank, looks at the boat, and with a deep breath taken in, steps up and moves across quickly. Someone doesn't like boats after all? Maybe?
Wanda Maximoff	Little boats were more appealing anyway. Closer to the water, closer to the calm. Wanda moves to follow him shortly after, meeting him aboard the ship. She might not have picked up exactly what set him off about the boat, but she picked up on it. When she's at his side again, she rests a hand on his arm. A deliberate but casual move intended to reassure him even if there was uncertainty in what she needed to reassure him of. It didn't matter. "Mostly it's just dirty magazines and cigarettes," she laughs a tiny bit. "But it seems to follow a general rule: move everything that doesn't look like it should move. People operate on easy assumptions based on what they see. Pipes are solid, metal is sealed... it may look it, but can you move it?"
Clint Barton	Clint takes the hand for what it is, and it's placement gets a flickered glance before he looks at the petite woman beside him. With a quick smile he nods his head once in a 'gonna be okay' gesture before he looks at the deck. "Really.." and it's a statement more than a question. "I think that is a really, really good bit of advice." The archer is considering the words, and he chuffs a soft, 'Huh..' before he looks back at his lovely companion. "Where do you want to start? They were Bratva. Place is probably crawling with.. something. Hell, could be things in here that //they// didn't know about." Given that bit of sage advice, that is. "Want a team to check it out, or feel like spending the day on the water?" Clint's feeling a little better about it. A little.
Wanda Maximoff	"You can fool a lot of people by presenting them with something they don't think they can move," Wanda says, agreeing with her own assessment. Maybe in more than just a surface level. The ship is taken in, the size of it scanned as she seems to honestly think about it. "It wouldn't hurt to take a look around. I do not know that we could make a significant amount of progress on our own with something of this size, however. You may want to bring a team in." She seems thoughtful. "It might be easier, though, if there was a direction to look in. Paperwork is easy to hide. Drugs or weaponry may be a bit more complicated. Perhaps a little of everything?" There's a reason she's convinced they'll need a whole team--far too many places to search for just the pair of them. There's a long pause. "Not that I don't like the idea of spending a day with you on the water, I'd just prefer it under better circumstances."
Clint Barton	"Makes a lot of sense," Clint returns, and he's looking at the boat with completely new eyes. Buildings are logical. Ceilings, floors, desks.. easy. But things that are assumed not moving but are hiding in plain sight with the real thing? He's suddenly got a new weapon in his arsenal, and a new way to look at things. "We'll look around, but yeah.. I think we need a team for this." He looks back at his partner and the smile turns into a warm grin, "Cruise one day. You, me, six thousand of our closest friends. We go on, gain about 15 pounds then come back and run it off." Sounds like fun? Clint pulls his cellphone from his pocket now, and thumbing through his contacts, he lands on a number he's looking for. Quick with the connect, and he's standing straight, looking forward now, towards the bow. "Yeah.. this is Clint. I need a team of forensics out here at the docks," and he gives the address and location. "Yeah.. and uh.. I want the thing torn apart. No pipe un-pulled." With those words, Clint's looking back at Wanda and smiling before he nods his head in a broad motion. "Yeah.. was Bratva, so bring a couple of linguists with you." Right.. and with that, the phone call is complete. "I'm thinkin' borscht tonight," is offered up. "Gotta be some good stuff around here." He's thinking that the team'll do it. There's actually more work to be done, now that he's got a hint...
Wanda Maximoff	The smile-turned-grin is mirrored by one of her own, and Wanda even laughs just slightly. "That sounds very cozy," she comments. She's patient as he makes the call, silent and thoughtful as she observes him until he's concluded business. Once he hangs up, she nods in his direction. "Borscht sounds like a very inspired choice."