Cecilia & Clint | Wednesday Afternoon

[x-hawkeye.livejournal.com]

Clint surprises Cecilia after her run and they talk.


It had been a gorgeous day, and a glorious run. At first, Cecilia had been concerned she'd started too quickly and would tucker out before meeting the arbitrary distance goal she'd set. But between the light breeze, the perfect shuffled playlist on her iPhone and an unexpected lack of distractions, she'd made it a full 5 miles and was now finishing one last lap around the mansion.

As she slowed, trying to ignore the slight pain in her side, she knew she owed it to herself and her muscles to do a solid cool-down. Instead, she jogged toward a nearby tree and leaned against it to catch her breath. After a few seconds, she stood upright, put her hands on her hips and looked out on the surprisingly quiet Xavier Institute's grounds.

Clint had watched Cecilia running around in circles from his comfortable perch in the tree but, once she stopped, he hopped down in front of her and grinned. "Hi."

Cecilia jumped back toward the tree, her forcefield springing up as her elbow almost scraped against the bark. She winced from the pain and tried to catch her breath. "Dios mio, don't fucking do that!" She jabbed him with her elbow.

Clint took the elbow to the ribs even though he could've moved out of the way. He just laughed despite the jab and rubbed the sore spot. "Nice to see you, too," he said. "See anything interesting out there?" He gestured toward the view she'd been looking at before he startled her.

"Nature. Stillness. Quiet." She was still scowling at him, well aware of how terse she was being. "So no. See anything interesting up there? Or just trying to get away from the craziness in there?" She jutted her chin toward the mansion, then leaned back against the tree.

"You can see everything better from up high," Clint said, still smiling. "But nothing especially interesting, no. Have fun running around in circles?"

"I did, actually." Cecilia suddenly wished she'd brought a water bottle with her. "Helps me clear my head. And not circles, so much as one big circle followed by a few smaller circles." Actually, she guessed that would qualify as circles, but she was still a little fatigued. "Do you not like running? Or fitness?"

"Running's cool, but I like the trails in the woods better. And more that than, I like weight training or sparring with Logan." Clint shrugged. "I can be speedy, but I'm working on my archery stuff, too, so upper body strength is more my focus at the moment."

"Oh, God, you're not one of those kids trying to turn into Ahnold, are you?" She smirked as she shook her head. "They warn us about you people in med school and residency, and then encourage us to show you a helpful video about the dangers of steroids use." She tried to look mockingly stern. "The side effects aren't worth it, Barton. Think of your future."

"Dude," Clint said, laughing despite himself. "This is gonna be vaguely inappropriate, but you're a doctor so I figure you've heard it before - I like my package the way it is, thanks. 'roids would shrink it or something and that's definitely not on my agenda of things to have happen in my lifetime. So you really don't have to worry about that."

Cecilia snorted, unfazed. "Yeah, I was thinking about the 'roid rage, and the balding, and the potential heart attacks, but hey, buddy. Whatever keeps you from being juiced." She crossed her arms. "Honestly, you teenage boys." She wondered if he'd taken her advice and called the girl from the planetarium. Somehow she doubted it. "Shouldn't you be in school or something?"

"My first class is later," Clint answered. "It's at the public school - AP Astronomy. And there's not much that we're doing, anyway, just reviewing for exams. Besides, climbing trees - or buildings - is totally exercising. And it's better to do that before it starts getting hot - see, logic."

"Aha." Cecilia looked behind her then, satisfied, slumped down against the tree. "Smart guy." She leaned forward to stretch her hamstrings. "Wanna know what I think?" She looked up at him, not waiting for an answer. "I think you climb all the time because you like to remind yourself how much further you can see than anybody else."

Clint laughed a little. "I don't really need a reminder, to be honest. Cause y'know. It's sort of always there, no matter what I'm doing." He paused, tilting his head to the side. After being quiet for a few moments, he said, "You've got 162 eyelashes on your upper eyelid."

"You sure?" Cecilia deadpanned, trying to ignore how off-putting that was. "There were 163 when I counted this morning."

Amused, Clint shrugged. "I mean, I didn't count the bottom ones, so." Then he said, "But everything's like that. Magnified and clarified. So I don't really need to climb a tree to remind myself. I climb trees so I can focus on something the way you were focusing on the view over there. I just have to focus on stuff that's farther away."

"Well, that's an extraordinary gift. The world's really a fascinating place if you get a close enough look at it. Few people are so lucky."

Clint snorted. "Few people are able to weird people out by counting their eyelashes, you mean."

"Who said I was weirded out?" Cecilia shifted position to stretch her glutes. "Well, okay, nobody's used to having that much attention paid to their cilia, but it's still kind of cool. I spent the better part of my education behind microscopes, remember?"

"Microexpressions," Clint answered, amused. "I'm pretty good at spotting them, too." Stepping to the side a little, he found the branch he'd been perched on before dropping down earlier and jumped up to catch it. He pulled himself up, then twisted to sit on it.

"Wonderful," she groaned. "I've already got to deal with the telepaths reading my intensely emotive thoughts, and now this?" She buried her head in her hands. "This is the only way I'll ever be safe here."

"Nah, I wouldn't be too worried - the telepaths won't be actively trying to read your thoughts and I'm pretty sure Topaz is the only empath-type person, so your emotions should be pretty safe. And it's not like I'm gonna go around going, 'Hey, I totally saw Doc Reyes' face do that nanosecond squishy thing that means she hates spinach canapes,' or anything. And anyway, most of the time I'm looking farther away than people's faces," Clint said, nodding toward the forest.

Cecilia looked up, studying him for a minute. "What do you usually see?"

"When I'm looking at people or when I'm not?"

"Both. Neither." Cecilia shrugged. "You've obviously picked up on my distaste for the word canapes," she teased him. "You spend a lot of time looking at the distance. What's out there?"

"Space, animals, plants, airplanes - sometimes I see people out there. Miss Petrovic likes to climb trees, too. If I get high enough, I can see over to the quarry - people with the dangerous powers do a lot of training out there. Angel likes blowing up molotov cocktails, but I dunno why. Except for maybe just that she likes fire." He shrugged.

"Slice of life stuff, to some degree. Depends on what time I'm up here. There's this family of deer - one of the baby ones is albino. Makes me glad this is all private land and no hunting - but I think Catseye hunts, anyway. I dunno if she'd go after that one or not, though." Clint shrugged. "I mostly try not to focus too much on people when I'm close. I mean, I could see all your pores if I wanted, which I don't. Who would?" He quirked a smile.

"Yeah, ick." Cecilia buried her face in her arms again. Having just run 5 miles, her pores were the last things she wanted to think about. "I used to live toward the top floor of a New York apartment building, but the view wasn't that great. Got to see my pores though, because, you know, makeup mirror." Actually, she realized he probably had no idea. "They magnify."

Clint shrugged again. "It just depends on what I want to focus on," he said. "And like I said, I don't really want to focus on people's pores. And it's not like I have to focus on everything." Then he grinned. "But I can do this," he said, closing his nictating membrane. "And that's pretty awesome for if I'm swimming or something."

"That," Cecilia responded with the intense curiosity of a former med student who wasn't easily grossed out, "is pretty damn cool."

"Right?" Clint asked, still grinning. "And like, the focusing part of my eyes are like a bird of prey's and the thing that attaches my eyes to the rest of me is like a squid's, apparently. So I have no blind spot."

"Well," Cecilia smirked and lifted her eyebrows. "No literal ones, anyway." She kicked both her feet in front of her.

"Huh?" Clint asked, tipping his head sideways.

"Oh, come on." Cecilia rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but crack a smile since he'd basically proved her point. "I was teasing you for being 17 and knowing nothing about the world. Or life. Or culture before 1998."

"I know about the world and life," Clint said, smiling again despite himself. "And why would anyone want to know anything about culture before 1998?"

"Nope." Cecilia shook her head rapidly. "We're not doing this dance again. I'm not old. You're unnaturally young. Learn to deal with it."

"Good, cause the last time we did this dance you slammed me into the side of that weird dude's car and I thought he was gonna blow a gasket," Clint said, nodding sagely. "It's good you've accepted your place in history."

"I ha—that is not what happened!"

"That's totally what happened," Clint said, quirking an eyebrow.

"You're wrong, but that's hardly important." Cecilia waved a hand at him. "The fact that you'd dare call me old proves my point. Blind spots."

"Sure, just dismiss me because of my age - like all the old people."

Cecilia chuckled. "You need a new line, Barton, but I appreciate your tenacity."

"Eh, it was worth a shot," Clint said, grinning. "I'll find something else to give you a hard time about."

At that, Cecilia had to laugh. "I bet you will. In fact, I count on it. Keeps me young." She flicked a bug off her leg. "I guess I should probably go take a shower." She almost made a joke about her muscles being too sore for her to get up, but there was no way she'd be responsible for giving him more old-joke fodder. "Be a gentleman and help me up."

Hopping down from the tree limb again, Clint offered her his hand. "Hey," he said as he pulled her up. "You had to take Organic Chem, right?"

Cecilia winced as she stood. Clearly she'd pushed it a little too hard today. "I did. Got an A." She did not add that it was over a decade ago.

"I'm looking at taking it over the summer - if I need some help, you think you could do me a solid?"

"What is in it for me?" Cecilia quipped. "Sure, I can help you out." At least, she assumed that's what he wanted. "I mean, I should warn you, I only got an A in the second semester, and doctors barely use that stuff on a daily basis."

"It's all good, sometimes just having somebody to bounce ideas off of is helpful," Clint said. "And thanks, I appreciate it. So far as what's in it for you - I dunno. I won't drop out of trees to scare you anymore."

"Please." Cecilia gave him a look. "Don't make promises you know you won't keep."