3187/Damn You Deadpool!

Damn You Deadpool!
Date of Scene:	18 November 2017
Location:	Triskelion, New York City
Synopsis:	Unknown
Cast of Characters:	Hawkeye (Barton), Quake

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Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
After they leave the gym it takes a second to get to a spot that they wouldn't be disturbed. Despite what Nat might have asked, security did come calling, and there were questions. Though, when they'd answered them, Clint leads them to a quiet corridor, sighing. "If I didn't know it was impossible, I'd be ready to kill Wade," he mutters, but there's no real bite to it, truth was when Wade was specifically pissing in Clint's Cheerios, he sort of liked the guy. Still didn't see how Nat dated him though.

Back on track, he looks to Skye. "Anyhow," he shakes his head, "Head up to your place?" he asks.

Quake has posed:
Skye lets Clint deal with security - she is the Junior Agent, after all. She'd have to deal with that tablet eventually; it was probably bad form to leave it, but she was banking on it being innocuous given Wade /had/ dropped in to take Agent Romanoff on a date. She really didn't think Nat was one to harbour any notions of treason, knowing, especially, that tidbit about Nat's past and what she'd done to a previous love for trying to entice her over to the dark side. No, Skye was fairly certain the thing was just a tablet he'd left behind to add fuel to the fires of the choas he'd wrought (for whatever reasons Wade had for that), and it was going to be rather perfunctory.

That, and she still had this mess with Clint to deal with. Though, that was confusing as well. No kiss goodbye, but he was walking her to her door? She was a bit wary of stomping on that feeling she'd obviously hurt..

"Sure, you can walk me back to my place. But you know you didn't have to, right? I mean, I heard you loud and clear about the needing space."

And she had. Ever so surprisingly, for someone not well equiped to people or relationship, she had heard him. Small victories and all that.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Yep, Clint is definitely the expert at explaining weird shit to security. He knows most of them by name and indeed by the end of the questions, he'd agreed to play ringer in a pool game some night, to, in his words, 'help win you guys some bucks'. They let them go without much hassle after that.

So despite his smooth eloquence of a few moments past, his response to Skye is an abrupt departure. "Huh?" he says, glancing around before continuing. "You talked me into staying, said we should work things out our way." The end of that trails off, he's beginning to think some wires got crossed somewhere.

Quake has posed:
Oh yeah, that wariness was warranted.

They continue down the labryinthine hallways leading off to the residential wing. "Uh.. not really what I meant?" She's careful now, not wanting to break this fragile truce they've created between them. When they get to her door, she pauses, turning her back to it, leaving him the opportunity to choose to stay or to go. She's not just poor at relationships, she's never had a major fight in one. This was bold new territory. Though, as she thinks on it, their 'usual way' of dealing with their inability to actually *say* what they mean and feel is beginning to sound like a way better option. In fact, she wasn't sure he'd gotten that she'd meant that last "I love you" to mean exactly that. And, worse, was beginning to think his ground out telling her "Fuck I hate you sometimes, Keyboard" hadn't meant he loved her at all.

She still wasn't running, but it might mean some backpedalling.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Clint's steps slow. No fucking way. This wasn't happening. He couldn't be this stupid could he? Apparently he could be. He puts his face in his palm, then looks up. "Wow. Good job Clint, this is one for the record books." They'd just made this truce, he really didn't want another fight.

He looks at Skye. "What did you mean then?" he asks carefully.

Quake has posed:
Skye remains, her back to the door, watching his face. His response has her licking her lips nervously. "You.."

~Wow, Skye.. how do you explain this one, huh? Because by the sounds of it, he so didn't understand what you said..~ Though it did give her a space to backtrack it all in..

Other than the fact that she wasn't sure backtracking was going to make anything better. Especially as he was not only berating himself over fucking this up, but her answer could just as well throw them back into another fight.

She worries her at her lower lip. How.. just how was she going to put this?

"I fucked up. I hurt you and I didn't mean to. And you wouldn't let me kiss you.. you said you needed your space. Just the only way I knew to, damn, Hotshot, I just fucking wanted you to know I was sorry. And you damn well know we don't say it."

She pushes her head back against her door, and looks away, because now she's just digging herself further into letting her insides all hang out for him to peer at. The whole reason they didn't talk about their feelings.

"Just I couldn't kiss you to tell you how sorry I was. How much I.. you know. Thought if you heard it, maybe it would help some. I mean, if you knew. Oh god, why aren't you shutting me up already. I'm babbling and making things worse."

Now she does look at him again, and there's a definitive hint of panic behind the look she gives him.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Wow. This was all so fucked up. On both their sides, typical them. It was a lot to take in too. So many feelings and looks into Skye that scared him. They were right on the edge and he wasn't sure which way he wanted to step. It was why he'd needed space in the first place.

When she asks why he isn't shutting her up, he almost went to her, giving her that chance for that kiss to show him what she felt. He doesn't though, he just looks into those panicked eyes and hopes his own fears aren't as visible in his.

He closes his eyes, letting out a breath before saying, "I left my stuff down there. I got to go get it, I'll be back, alright."

~Coward~

Quake has posed:
~Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God~

The litany of self-recrimination pounds in her head in time with her heartbeat. It's got that great stacatto beat. *pound* *pound* *pound* And, worse, she couldn't read him. Not one little bit.

Up to now, any time this had happened, they had that silent language of pauses and considerations, and things had always made some sense. This time? She'd been left floundering in a sea of doubts. And not just about him, either.

Did she tell him? Make him hear what he'd not understood when she'd said it? But what if he'd not meant what she thought? What if it had just been another moment of brushing things aside and she'd read too much into it? Why wasn't this easier?

She couldn't just say it again, could she?

She could, only she didn't know it would make this better. She suspected it wouldn't. And after their conversation about where things weren't going, Skye didn't want to trap him in some answer or obligation that wasn't there. Wasn't what he felt. And even that she was now confused about.. Hadn't that been what that night was? Hadn't it?

His easy out of going to retrieve his things was welcomed.

~Coward~

She nods, "Yeah. Sure. Not like I'm going anywhere." And to her shame, there was a shaky sigh of relief when he left her to collect his things. Five more minutes of not having to make a committment.

Inside her suite, she resumed her position of leaning back against the door. "So fucking stupid, Skye. You fucking blew it. This. This is why we don't do this."

When you're terrified, you tell yourself these things. It's a lot easier than looking into the mouth of the abyss.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
~Focus Clint. Just get out. Get that space you wanted. Work things out.~

Clint nods, "Cool," he says. "I'll be back." Then he turns and leaves.

True to his word, he does get his stuff, making his way to the gym, opening his locker and looking at his street clothes. He frowns, he couldn't wear those, he was still all dried sweat and workout stink. He grabs his stuff for the shower and heads into a stall, dropping off his clothes on a bench before he does. Under the stream of hot water, he leans a fist against the tile and lets it run over him. "What the fuck am I doing?" he asks. It started out so easy, good times, a girl he really liked, great sex, when did it become so messy? He'd been here before, with Bobbi, and how it ended left him with deep scars. "Time to get out," he tells himself. That was the smart play. All this with Skye, it was new, they'd heal, yeah, now was good.

He steps out of the shower grabs a towel and dries.

~You said you weren't running~

"Fuck you," he mutters at himself, as he wraps the towel around his waist and heads to his locker. He gets dressed in silence, wondering where he'd go next, probably lay low at the Avengers Mansion, trade someone, maybe Nat, for their nights on monitor duty. Keeping busy, that was key, that and distance.

Clothed, he lets out a breath, then stuffs his gym clothes and towel in the duffle. He checks his phone, it'd been twenty minutes.

Thumbing the text button, he picks out Skye's contact, trying to ignore the picture he'd set for it, staring at him all happy like she'd been. Just text her, then go.

His fingers freeze above the screen. "Fuck," he says and puts the phone away, before heading back to Skye's place. When he gets there he knocks on the door and waits.

Quake has posed:
Twenty minutes.. or an eternity. It was all about the same in the long run.

First she'd spent an eternity backed up against the door, eyes shut, while she convinced herself that maybe now was when she cut her losses and... And what? Really, that's where she kept finding herself dragging her thoughts back to. Just pretend none of this had happened? Pretend he hadn't gotten in? Pretend like she didn't want to do things that had him looking that way at her he had when he wasn't thinking and his guard was down? Pretend all they'd ever really had was a few laughs and some mind-blowing sex?

The mutinous rumble of ~Coward~ that ran through her head provided no cohesive arguments against running. Just that single word.

That, and she'd said she wouldn't run. She... owed at least one of them a proper answer to that. Closure at the very least.

Only she didn't want closure. She wanted.. him.

So, it wasn't an answer she had on how to fix anything. She just hoped it was fixable. At the very least, there was some frou-frou beer in her fridge (that SHE'D bought this time, hoping to surprise him when he opened up the fridge next he was here and looked inside). And he did say he was coming back.

~Won't~ the very small, sullen, hurt part of her brain said. Not the part that was calling her a coward. The other part. The part that wanted her to run. ~He won't. You watch.~

Still, she'd pulled two beer from the six-pack and carried them to the sitting area, putting them on the coffee table, and waited. When the knock came, there was a moment of relief, until it occurred to her it could be anyone there, really.

~Oh? And just who is going to come calling, Skye? Not like you've got some great hoarde of friends just rushing to come visit you~ To which the other part of her brain happily supplied that it /could/ be Agent Romanoff..After all, Clint would just walk in. He'd walked in from the second time he'd been here.

Wincing, hoping that it wasn't Nat, Skye answers her door. Grateful it's him.

"Nobody I know would come calling at this hour," she whispers weakly, hoping he remembers. Hoping it helps.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
God who made the hallways in the Trisk so short, he was going to have to talk to Fury about that. It seems like a second since he'd left the gym, he wasn't even sure what he was going to say. Or what he wanted to say. Then he's there face to face with her. He didn't expect the joke, calling back to their first 'date'. The humor is like a reflex with him, "Well, you're wrong about that," he says, with a faint shadow of the smile he'd worn when he first said the line. "Also, your place? A lot less far flung than I remember." He glances past her inside, "Alright if I come in?"

Quake has posed:
Skye's lips press over a wry grin. So far so good. No explosions. Nobody looking like they were trapped and had to escape. She could do this, right? Right?

"Sure. I'd offer you a beer, but all I have is this frou-frou stuff."

She stpes aside and motions him in.

"Yeah. You tell them you want a place that makes the boonies look hospitable, and they put you on the main thoroughfare. Someone's idea of a bad joke, I'm sure. Make yourself at home."

So that's how they were going to play it. She nodded to herself. She could do this. She remembered this. It wasn't.. as good as where they'd been, but it was certainly safer. And, oh god, she wanted things to be better.

Damn that Wade.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
The familiarity of it, made things easier. The proverbial spoonful of sugar. He wasn't sure what the medicine was, he hadn't thought that far ahead. So, far, thinking hadn't been all that helpful. He steps inside and puts down his bag by the door before closing it behind him.

He snorts a laugh about the beer. "You know, there was never a bet," he says. "Just thought it'd be something you'd like." She could probably piece that together by now, what with his local pizza guy, being the one hawking it, but the admission seemed to fit whatever it was they were doing. He grabs one of the beers, and holds up the other one for her. "Guess, I don't know everything, huh?"

So far, so good. No explosions. No chaos. No closer to deciding if he was really going to run. He did know one thing, he was really, going to kill Wade.

Quake has posed:
Skye chuckles, even if it is a shadow of the real thing. Still, she's trying. She's really not sure what else to do. "Kinda figured it was bullshit. Knew you really liked the stuff. Didn't want to hurt that three inches of yours." Most definitely referring to the space between his hands he'd jokingly said she'd made his manhood feel like by being her bossy self - even if he'd not been bothered by her being bossy at all. Okay, maybe she's shortened the distance by an inch or two. They had to start somewhere.

She perched at one end of the couch, facing him, reaching to take the proferred beer. "What, you thought I'd like the beer, or the bullshit story? Nah. You don't know everything. Still not sure I like the beer." She cracks the can open. "Know I like you, though."

There. She'd tossed that out. Waited to see where it landed while she hide her face behind a sip of beer. Needing the shield that the can provided.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Clint rolls his eyes, but his shoulders shake with a laugh. "See, it's just sad when you keep that up knowing the truth," he teases about the inches. He cracks his beer and drinks down a swallow. "And yeah, I like it, not what I drink really, but bough a sixer for Gino's sake, stayed in my fridge until I was out of beer one night, figured it was better drinking that then running to the store, and by the sixth can I sort of liked it," he explains with a shrug.

"Which did I think you'd like?" he gives that a second's though, "Both," he says, before she adds that last remark, putting it and herself out there, it only seemed fair he did the same. "That's what I really hoped you'd like, though, me."

There it was out in the open. "And so there's no misunderstanding, I like you too, Skye."

He looks at his beer ready to take a sip, but holds off, he'd wait this one out without cover.

Quake has posed:
Skye nods, lowering the beer, letting her lips press together in a tight little twist of consideration while she watches him. "Well, you won that one. Totally was into you. You keep scaring the shit out of me, though. Told you I was bad at this. Not sure it works if we're both doing the running, though. So.."

Her shoulders do an easy rise and fall, fingertips curling around the beer can. "So I decided I could be the one. You know? Was looking at you and thinking how pissed I was.. and then I wasn't pissed anymore. You didn't do anything. At least not anything that deserved what I did. You didn't know you'd stepped on a nerve. And it was just plain stupid."

He gets a weak smile. "I'm really sorry about that. Tried to make it better, only, I think I screwed that up too. Thought maybe you'd meant something completely different back there. Probably should have shut my mouth at the door and invited you in for a fuck. We really do seem to do this better when we don't try to talk. Not sure if that's good or bad."

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"Was into me?" Clint asks. "Like from when?" he was curious truth be told as much as he felt for Skye, they didn't know a lot about each other, at least where the details were concerned; a side-effect of doing their best communicating without words.

He nods at her explanation, saying, "I get it. And for what it's worth, I was mad at you for being mad, not much else."

The other, thing, what she said, he just sips his beer, not ready to go there just yet. What he does respond to, is the rest, he lowers his beer. He knew these short cuts of theirs were coming at a cost, but at the same time, he was here and wasn't looking at the door, that had to be enough wrestling with emotions for one night. "So, is that still an option?" he asks.

Quake has posed:
Skye smirks, ducking her glance somewhat. "When? Probably at that stupid dinner in the break room. Definitely when I told you that I didn't do relationships. That I just banged it out."

She looks over, head tilted ever so slightly at an anglee. "I didn't really want to bang you, though. Have no fucking clue what you did, but I wanted you to like me. Maybe see me a little. Pictured choosing between fucking you or being your friend and I didn't want to just screw it all away." There's a small, self-deprecating laugh there. "So, yeah. Chose getting to know you over inviting you to my bed. There's that, I guess. That probably should have told me a lot right there."

"I was hurt. It just came out mad. I couldn't even figure out why I felt stomped on. I mean, I meant it when I said I didn't think about marriage. How the hell was I going to explain why it hurt. The two things don't even make sense together."

When he asks about them heading to bed being on or off the table, Skye frowns a little in thought. "Do you ever think maybe we're fucking thing up by not.. doing this?" There's a small hand gesture that moves between them, with the hand not holding her beer. Her chin lifts, and she gives a half-smile. "It's not off the table. Not if that's what you want."

Deflection by deflection. Good one, Skye. Throw the decision-making to someone else.

~Coward~

And she knew it.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Clint smiles his expression half hidden by his beer, "All the way back then?" he asks. He doesn't sound put off by it, if anything, a little touched. "Didn't know I made that good of an impression." The rest of the details are taken in, and he volunteers, "Then it's good thing I didn't make a move on you in the elevator, I thought about it, but I chickened out. Same reasons though, we were becoming friends and I didn't want to mess that up."

"It's alright, I don't get it either, but it's alright, I wasn't trying to make you feel unwanted, I just didn't want you to think I wanted to get married," he explains before he has another drink.

His lips quirk downwards as he hears his own thoughts echoed back to him, he takes another swallow of beer and finishes the can. Setting it down, he looks considers her.

~Just say yes!~

His eyes close and when he opens them he says, "You may have a point. But let me get another beer." He pushes up off the couch and does just that, getting a second for Skye, because if this was the route they were going he figured they'd need it.

Quake has posed:
~Did he just.. Holy shit.. he did. He just said 'No'.~

That she's surprised is evident, but it comes with a small smile, Skye's features softening a touch where they'd been nothing but uncertain before. Whatever she makes of his answer, it's clear she's not got her knickers in a knot about it. No misunderstanding that it's a rejection of her in play.

"Wow, the elevator, huh? You thought about it? So, what made you change your mind, then?" Other than that whole messed up meeting over perogies where a running gag got convoluted enough it became a question and an answer that neither had tossed aside.

She's grateful for the second beer, finishing up her first with a long swallow. "Yeah. We might need the whole six-pack at this rate." A smirk gracing her lips, one that actually reaches her eyes. Whatever it is they're doing now, it isn't picking or pulling at the scabs. No new bruises.

More seriously, then, "I know now you didn't mean it like you were rejecting me. And even if you and I were stupid enough to contemplate it, we're not there. I mean, how fucked would that be? We can't even tell one another we love you without hiding it in all this other bullshit." The remains of her beer washed down, she holds her hand out for the second can as he brings it and rejoins her on the couch.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Clint wonders if he made the wrong call there, at least until he decides it's the right call for him. Oh, he wanted her, but hearing his own words coming from Skye's mouth about how the sex could sabotage the rest of it put that aside. He was an idiot, but not /that/ big of one. The softening of her features helps ease his mind about the decision though.

"What do you mean? Why didn't I make the move on the elevator? Or why did I make a move later? The first one is easy, it just felt wrong at the time, also, cameras, if I was going to crash and burn I didn't want there to be a record. Which is why I just happened to come by with beer, I figured, I'd check things out, see if the vibes I was getting were there or in my head. Just got stuck in that part and didn't really make a move until Nat pushed us off the cliff," in more ways than one, her détente with Skye, made it easier to move forward and not feel like he was ganging up with her enemy. "Which I guess answers number two."

The mention of the six-pack gets Clint to turn and head back to the fridge, he returns with the rest of the beer. He sets most of it on the table and hands a can to Skye before keeping one for himself. He sinks down next to her on the couch as opposed to the opposite end. Whatever this was, it was nice. He hadn't thought about running since it began.

"I know how fucked up it could be, from personal experience, which is why I felt you needed to hear I wasn't aiming for that with us, the quick marriage and all that stuff. I'm happy with what we've got." The I love you comment, is taken in remarkable stride, "Yeah, we need to work on that," he says. Naturally he doesn't actually say the words, old habits and all of that.

Quake has posed:
There's a quirk of brow from the woman. "True, I forgot about the cameras on the elevator. Good call, hotshot." The ease back into familiar territory smooth. Or, more to the point, the marrying of the two. Or at least she tries...

"We never talked about your marriage. Or Nat. Or anything. I mean, here we have all this stuff going on and short of peeking at each others files, we're flying blind here."

Her beer is lifted towards him, and he's given a wry little smile. That he's nearby, not hunkered into the other end of the couch, gives her some hope that they're not about to spontaneously combust here. And, so far, they're actually communicating. Whole sentences. Real words, even.

"Well, you don't have to worry. I wasn't looking for some fast proposal or anything stupid. I like what we have. I like you. Us."

She nods, though. "So, about that.." Skye swallows hard. "I meant it."

Yeah, she's being deliberately cryptic, hoping he follows the wet, dotted ink lines to when she told him 'Yeah. I love you too.' and understands what it is she's not saying. Like him.. old habits. Old fears. All of this leaving her plummetting over the edge of that cliff at record speed, and she without a parachute.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Clint taps his temple "Got to stay on top of that stuff, Keyboard," he says, accepting that little bit of normality with a smile.

He nods, it was true, he had never talked about it, but at the same time he didn't know anything about her past either, just little bits, living rough, the hacktivism being an orphan. "So, what do you want to know?" he asks her.

He settles in near to her, and he taps his can to hers before he cracks it open and takes a sip. This, this he could deal with.

Well maybe he spoke too soon as those three words are brought up. He closes his eyes a moment, they were like a curse he found, once you said them you couldn't really take them back. He opens them and looks over at Skye, "I know and I love you too," he says, there they were out there. Even though she'd all but said the same, his heart beats a little faster as he takes a sip of his beer.

Quake has posed:
Skye pretends to consider.. "What do I want to know, huh? Okay, I guess if we're going to do this, fair's fair, we take turns. How about something easy. Why'd you run away to the circus?"

She wriggles her toes underneath his thigh, making their contact complete. It's comforting. A thing she knows. They know. A bridge between the non-verbal of them, and what they're attempting now.

Her beer tapped to his and swigged from, mouth wiped with the back of a hand when she's done. "I keep you around to keep on top of that stuff," She says saucily. "Certainly isn't for your bedside manner." Totally a tease. She's not complained once about his performance in bed. In fact, one might take her reactions as rather the opposite.

It's the other that catches her mid-laugh though, startling her. "You do?" A pause. "Oh."

A sudden, pleased twist of lips as she meets his gaze, nodding. "It's still scary."

Another breathlessly long pause of silence, as her inner nerves war with the necessity of the moment. Necesssity finally winning. "I love you too."

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"Sounds good," Clint says of the trading details for details. Though her question made him smile, "My brother Barney was getting older, most of the people in our group home were assholes, and the circus was in town. We figured why wait for the system to split us up or keep on fucking with us, so we ran off and joined them," he explains. "What about you, what made you get out and become a hacker?"

The wiggled toes earn a chuckle, and he rests his free hand on her feet, increasing that contact, strengthening the bridge.

"I see," Clint says with a slow nod. "Hmm, funny I never heard any complaints until now," he counters with a grin. "Quite the opposite, so if Wade really is bugging our rooms, I'll get him to play some back for you sometime."

Jeez, that sudden stop to her laugh is scary, and he doesn't breathe until he sees that twist of her lips he likes. "Definitely," he agrees before he smiles as she returns the words. "You said that," he says, a very gentle tease. Reaching out, he brushes a stay strand of hair from her face with his fingers before contorting himself to lean in for a kiss.

Quake has posed:
"Me?" Skye's beer is rested atop a knee, held one-handed. "I don't know. I guess it was all the bullshit. Only so many failed adoptions a person can take before you just want them to stop." She bites at her lower lip, remembering. The rejection of it all still haunting her. Even if she'd created a facade that said she didn't care. "Group home sucked ass. Figured if my life was going to be shit anyway, I'd make it my life. Just threw some things in a bag one day, walked out the front door, and never went back."

She shrugs, picking up her beer again, sipping.

"You have a brother? I didn't know that." It wasn't like they'd had a bunch of hear to hearts for that to come up. "What's he like?"

His comments about the bugging of her apartment and Wade makes her laugh softly. "Oh, you would, too, wouldn't you? Fine. I liked it. I liked it a lot. Especially when you forget to treat it like a mission and just let loose. Not..." she holds up a finger, "That I'm complaining about the other. You've got some fine moves. Just wow, hotshot. That night? When you stopped thinking so much? Daaaaaamn."

She says it in low and sultry tones.

And when he reaches up to tuck hair behind her ear, she turns her face towards his palm, intending to kiss it, only to be surprised by his leaning in with an offer of a kiss instead. Her eyes widening suddely, then half-lidding as she completes the small distance between them and offers her own back in return.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"That had to suck," Clint said with the weight of experience in his voice. "Barney and I didn't get fostered out much, we sort of made it our mission to scare the shit out of those people as soon as possible, but, we didn't need them to reject us, our family did that just fine. It wasn't that Mom and Dad didn't have any other relations, they just didn't want us," he says before nodding and saying. "Guess we have that in common, decided if anyone was going to fuck our lives it was going to be us."

"I do. He's older, and not as good looking, but everyone says we're related," he says with a tight smile, it's a practiced line, one to deflect real emotion. "He bailed on me when we were with the circus, didn't see him again until later, when he'd turned into a real asshole. Nearly killed each other, haven't seen him since." He takes a moment with that. "Anyhow, your folks, did you know them or were you a system kid from the start?"

Clint looks like he's about to object to her note about his performance until she finishes that thought, and he can't help but grin. Guys right. "Huh, you're going to have to help me keep that in mind," he says, then he just shuts up letting the kiss reiterate his feelings for her in the language they were most comfortable with.

Quake has posed:
Skye shrugs. "It sucked. Blah blah blah. I mean, really, what can you say, right? Guess we have that in common," she agrees. "And no. Never knew my parents. Not even sure if there are records of them. To be honest, I never looked. One of those things, right? Do you want to know you weren't wanted, or?" She lets it sit there. The dual-edged sword of being an orphan: Do you hope for there to be nobody alive, knowing that nobody abandoned you, but at the same time, you are well and truly alone? Or do you hope there are parents out there who rejected you, and harbour that small, stupid hope that maybe one day you might find them and change their minds?

Either way was a recipe for heartache. It was just better not to know.

"Do you ever want to see him again? Or was that it?"

her toes wriggle under his thigh, sufficing for a hug of sorts. Letting him know she's there. Their wordless language at play.

"I'm sure you're a big boy who can remember that all by yourself," she smirks at him, eyes twinkling impishly and belying those very words. She might very well be intending to help him forget himself..

But it's the kiss where she finds him. Her lips warm and inviting as just their lips do this. No other touches but her toes under his thigh. It's a soft, and gentle thing. Like whispered words, afraid to break the silences in a dark and quiet room, only here it's the gentleness of lips and the way the lack of any other embrace says, 'I trust in this'.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Clint nods, understanding. "Definitely, the question mark is easier to handle," he says. He knew his folks didn't want him, or regretted him or whatever their deal was, and it wasn't fun. Thought that was a sob story for another time.

He squeezes a foot as she wiggles, them, a hug of sorts in return.

"I want to say, I'd tell him to go fuck himself, but nah, if he called me, all hey c-" he pauses thinking better of arming Skye with Barney's childhood nickname for him. Wade had already given her Francis. "-Clint," he finishes, there's enough of a pause to suggest something was edited at the last moment. "I need some help, I'd at least see what's going on." They'd been through a lot and it came through in his voice.

Clint chuckles, but catches that impish twinkle and stores that away.

Clint lingers in the kiss and its message. He understands it instinctively and his hands remain where they are and he lets kiss speak for itself. Eventually, reluctantly, he pulls away dragging her lip with his teeth gently as he does so. He takes a breath, his eyes flick to the bedroom and back to Skye.

Quake has posed:
That flicker of glance down the hall and back is noted.

"Worse than Francis?" she murmurs. Then adds, "Want to take the beer with us? Or are we done with the dutch-courage portion of the evening?"

his understanding of the kiss noted, and taken in stride. "We could finish this talk later."

They'd come a long way. It didn't feel so broken or raw anymore.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"So not telling you," Clint says, but yes, sooo much worse. She can probably tell given he's not even hinting at it. He glances at the beer and shakes his head. "Nah, I think we've got this part down." He does finish his beer though, setting down the can.

He did feel better about things, and more than that, this wasn't an out, or a shortcut. Just a different sort of talking. He stands up and offers Skye his hand, "Yeah, we can finish later."

Quake has posed:
Skye's beer is finished in kind, the woman bumping her can up against his before putting it down and taking his hand. It felt right, this. Now. Not like before when it would have been nothing but deflection. Something that, instead of bringing them together as it had in the past, would have pushed them further apart. This? Now? They'd added words to their repetoire. This was nothing more than a small side-conversation. A shared memory. One of those personal jokes that couples carried on and shared over distances in crowded rooms while others looked on and wondered what it was they were saying so silently.

And more than that, it was time.... Even if he didn't share the nickname.

Skye just let that one go. She had better things to do with her time.