Namor & Clint | Friday Night (backdated)

[x-hawkeye.livejournal.com]

Namor and Clint snark.

Clint preemptively opened the suite door before flopping onto the couch in an inelegant sprawl. He checked his phone, eyebrows rising at the second to last text he'd received from Namor - why would they need to talk about Tandy in addition to Julian?

Tossing the phone to the end of the couch, he shoved it between the arm and the cushion - no text messages from Maddie after the one where she'd said her flight had been delayed somewhere in the Midwest a couple days ago.

This week really had sucked.

Namor knocked loudly despite the couch being in clear view of the door because that was exactly the type of gentleman asshole he was. He also cleared his throat softly before speaking, because that was also who he was. "I see you need time to get ready for that run."

After very pointedly looking down at the gym shorts and running shoes he already had on, Clint gave Namor a vaguely unimpressed look and said, "What, my shirt's supposed to have sleeves or something? It's just a run, but I guess I can put on a fancier t-shirt if you want."

"I am sure that we can page Miss Abbott to share the proper attire for this..." And then Namor frowned. It was slight and possibly a trick of the light.

Clint's head thumped back against the arm of the couch. "Smooth, Namor. Smooth." He pushed himself up, off the couch and toward the door.

"It would have been funny a month ago." He sighed, propping himself against the doorway. "Have you been wallowing all day?"

"Not all day," Clint offered. "C'mon, it's late but at least we don't run the risk of meeting up with Julian out there."

Namor scoffed. "He is not the type to run when it doesn't involve chasing skirts or a treadmill. I also suppose that telekintetics may feel an aversion to moving any more than possible."

"I dunno, you've got wings and you don't go floating around the hallways," Clint pointed out, moving past Namor and into the hall. "But you're right, he doesn't seem the type to be out running when there's no chance of anybody seeing him."

"Well. We all can move ourselves with our own minds." A pause. "Look! A secondary mutation! Alert Dr. Grey."

Clint cracked a smile despite himself. "Seriously, we gotta work on your sense of humor. So you gonna tell me why you're all growly about Julian in particular? And what'd you wanna talk about Tandy for?"

"You are not blind. Her behavior since the kidnapping earlier this summer has been concerning." He sighed, bending over to check his laces one last time. "Mr. Keller is common enough in terms of the over-privileged nouveau-riche, but I believe his influence is starting to get destructive."

"Yeah, she hasn't been acting like herself - kind of withdrawn and awkward. She gave up her spot at school this semester and like... I dunno. I tend to do a lot of the 'here, have some nachos' sort of not talking about things that upset people. You know that," Clint said, stretching his calves quickly. "What've you noticed? And how's Julian making it worse?"

"Ah," Namor noted dryly, "I keep forgetting that you are basically a good person." He paused, considering.

Clint snorted. "Don't leave me hanging here, dude. What's up?"

Namor held his left index finger. "Tandy is horribly susceptible to poor ideas." And then the same finger on the other hand. "Julian's type is a treasure trove of poor ideas with the money to make them even more annoying."

He brought both fingers together and gave Clint a long, flat look.

"Well, shit," Clint said, sighing as they turned to walk down the hallway. "But what've they actually done that's worse than... I dunno, whatever they usually do? Besides all the Bowler stuff in the magazines."

"I hold that the two of them together giggling is crime enough."

Actual worry about Tandy's relationship with Julian took a backseat to Clint's urge to roll his eyes at Namor. "Julian giggling with anyone is irritating enough to be a crime. But until he influences her to do something stupid - or takes advantage of her PTSD-compromised self, there's not much we can do about it but sit on the sidelines and snark."

Namor sighed. "I do not have a lot of experience with friends as opposed to, well, minions, but is it responsible to merely let Tandy do something stupid?"

Clint mouthed the word 'minions' at Namor before shaking his head. "We gotta be like. Supportive and show how we trust her judgement. Even if her judgement's kind of awful right now. And be there to help her get back on her feet when she gets knocked on her ass for doing something stupid. Unless it's life threateningly stupid, in which case we tell someone like Mister Summers so he can go make sure she doesn't die. Or get kidnapped." Not that there'd been any signs of trouble from Hope before she and Laurie went missing.

"Are you implying Julian will kidnap her?" Namor shook his head. "He should be completely harmless outside of the usual personality flaws."

"I dunno, she did run off to Connecticut this weekend. But I'm pretty sure that had to do with Sue's issues over Maddie leaving," Clint said.

"She is likely another problem waiting happen."

"Dude, I'm beginning to think your definition of 'problem' is mostly 'over-emotional women' and 'obnoxious, rich playboys."

"This is me attempting to be a compassionate human being. So far I do not see the appeal."

Pursing his lips on a smile, Clint managed, "You're doing really well, Namor. Small steps."

"Plus," Namor added as they passed out of a common room and toward the garage, "There is no such thing as 'over emotional women.' There are only 'those primed to make horrible decisions.'"

"I can't really dispute that," Clint said as they made it to the bottom of the stairs and headed for the door. "I mean, isn't everybody primed to make horrible decisions when they're really upset? Most of us just don't... actually make them."

"Horrible decisions are, at least, often satisfying. I will allow them that."

"Like breaking all your phones."

"Correct! Clint, you get me."

Shaking his head, Clint laughed. "C'mon, bet I can beat you to the treeline."