Jennie & Clint | Sunday Morning

[x-hawkeye.livejournal.com]

Clint and Jennie meet in the hallway. There are implications.


Rolling the last of his pancakes up, Clint shoved it mostly into his mouth, made sure he'd cleaned up the kitchenette, grabbed his bow and quiver, and headed for the door. He wasn't in a rush, but it was that perfect time of the afternoon when the light was perfect and, since it was finally autumn, that meant it was cool and breezy. It'd be frigid and snowy soon enough, he knew, but for now he planned to take advantage of the weather and the fact that he had nothing else to do for the day.

He made his way downstairs, bow hooked over his shoulder, as he finished his breakfast-for-dinner. Today's practice was gonna be good. Probably not as challenging as some of the Danger Room scenarios Scott had programmed for him, but it'd be nice to be outside for a while, just shooting at whatever caught his attention.

"So, you going to actually eat your food or just track it all over the mansion?" came a voice behind Clint.

It's owner had dark, curly hair tied into a topknot, wearing leggings and a loose top. Jennie pointed at the offending piece of pancake with one delicate bare toe.

Clint bit the pancake in half, pulling the uneaten end out of his mouth with his free hand and chewing before he swallowed. "Hello," he said. "I'm halfway done with this one and the rest is already in my belly, so... I'm going to actually eat it. Also, that," he continued, indicating the thing on the floor, "Is not mine."

"Oh really?" said Jennie. "Guess you can never be too careful with all these children around here."

"I mean, mostly it's that this place is obviously home to people who're loaded and that carpet probably costs more than I make in six months. Made. Made in six months." Shrugging easily, Clint smiled. "But here, I'll pick up this bit of whatever it is and feed it to the birds as I'm walking to the range."

"This carpet has seen much worse than a little bit of food," Jennie said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm pretty sure you can still see the scorch marks where F-- well," Jennie caught herself with a wry smile. "Where some sixteen-year-olds once had an 'experiment' go horribly wrong."

Still smiling, Clint finished off the last of his pancake and bent down to pick up the mysterious item in question. "I know all about experiments going horribly wrong, at least. I'm Clint, by the way. I don't think we've met."

"Not formally anyway," Jennie walked forward and extended a hand, palm down. "Jennie Stavros, enchante.

Laughing a little, Clint shook her hand and then wiggled his eyebrows a little. "Oh, fancy. I could pull out the Russian, but I have this feeling it just wouldn't sound as cool as your French."

"Спасибо," Jennie said with a smirk. "Though don't ask me to do more, it was always a little terrible." She looked Clint up and down and then raised a delicate black eyebrow. "Though with as many spies under this roof, I'm sure I could practice."

Clint's expression didn't change and neither did anything else about his body language as he let her hand go. "Yeah, it seems like there's a lot of them around. I think the Snow Valley peeps have the market cornered. Kinda got the side-eye from them when I first got here."

"They generally do their own thing," Jennie said with a wave of her hand. "We do ours. Occasionally our paths cross, but we all have our own skills and specialties. Yours appears to be defrosting Atlantean Kings and getting into a certain redhead's knickers. And shooting things with your bow and arrow."

"I do seem to find a fair bit of trouble when it comes to strays," Clint allowed. "And getting into that redhead's knickers has been the highlight of the last six months for me, even considering the whole 'green dudes falling through warped little wormholes' thing that happened," Clint said, still grinning. "And archery's good for relaxation and meditation."

"Of course it is," Jennie purred, and then stretched gracefully, arching her back. "Just be good to our little Angel, I have known her since she was quite young. I feel quite protective of her."

"Oh, excellent," Clint said, resettling his bow and quiver over his shoulders. "Nobody's given me the shovel talk yet, this should be good. Okay, let's go."

"That's it." Jennie said, her blue eyes dancing.

Laughing again, Clint shook his head a little. "Well, okay then. I'm heading down to the archery range, if you wanna come with?"

"Sadly, I have other pleasures I need to attend to before this afternoon, I'm a very busy woman. I am sorry about mistaking you for a litterbug," Jennie said. "It's a pleasure to formally meet you, Mr. Barton."

"You, too, Miss Stavros," Clint replied, quirking a smile. With a jaunty wave, he turned and headed down the hallway, waiting until he was out of sight to pull out his personal phone, not the Xavier's one, to shoot a text off about Miss Stavros. There was so little that had actually been said during that conversation, but so many implications. He needed a bit of clarification.