863/Log

Log
Date of Scene:	10 June 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Hawkeye (Barton), Darcy Lewis

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Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Clint has been pretty ghostly the past few days. Either seen here or there, but never really hanging out long enough for real conversation. He's been working more the past couple of days, getting his head back into 'game time', so to speak. Time in the R&D lab much earlier in the morning, working with one of the techs on some adjustments to his gear.

Now? He is in one of the training rooms. He has his own personal one that he generally shares with the Widow, but today he's hanging pretty close to base as he has a feeling he'll get called out soon. Usually what happens when someone goes through something tramatic. Toss them back in the game and hard.

He is barefoot in sweat pants and shirtless. His hearing aids are in a small box next to his towel, bottle of water and a shirt off on a nearby bench. His hands and feet are also wrapped with reinforcement tape. Judging by him sweating, he's probably been here a while.

Currently, a loud music- a type of techno, is blasting in the room, but the tenor is turned down and the base turned up with the speakers laying face down on the floor. Using the beat, feeling it through the floor in his feet, he's attacking a mannaquin type punching bag with several strikes to the torso with hands and feet, but never relaxing. Constantly moving as if to dodge or moving in and out of range. He's a very mobile, flexible type fighter. Mash in some gymnastics. He's not the type to just stand there like a tree and fight head to head and take a beating if he doesn't have to.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
It didn't take much to find Barton. Darcy hadn't seen him since he Walking Dead'd her, and while she wasn't the guy's bestie she did worry. Especially after getting the security footage from Medical that day, and then from the containment area. It was disturbing, watching him move the way he had. Stepping into the nightclubesque training room, Darcy pauses to silently regard the Hawk.

He's as restless as she was? She mouthed off at Fury. Clint is beating up a sparring manquien. Barton has more brains than Lewis. No one is surprised.

Finding a bottle of water, Darcy, tablet in other hand, moves to where she hopes she'll be in his peripherial to wait for him to feel up to acknowledgeing her presense and to pause his 'workout'.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
It takes Barton a moment as he allowed himself to lose himself to the workout. Beat out frustrations, in a sense, but he could use a break. Seeing movement, he glances in her direction, getting in one last strike to the manniquin's head before he stands down.

Seeing him move the way he had was him completely unfiltered and generally not something that anyone but Natasha has ever seen. People generally don't get a sense of how dangerous Hawkeye can really be with the way he is around others.

Walking over to claim his water bottle, he takes a drink before putting on his usual smile for Darcy: "Hey." Though he can't help but make sure, "Is your neck alright?" he did slam her down pretty hard.

He watches her, waiting for an answer he can read before he claims the small box- like a ring box, that he opens to slip his small, subtle hearing aids back in. Which, now that he can hear again, promptly leads him to shutting off the music for the moment. He turned it up for the beat in the floor, didn't realize HOW loud it actually was. Damn.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
It had been frightening and impressive all at once, to watch Barton move as he had moved. Natasha was no slouche either. But something had 'infected' Barton, and while not a friend because they don't hang out, he was a coworker and therefore partally hers.

She'll find a way to lick him and stake her claim that way... If he was cool enough. Darcy has standards.

"Yeah. It's fine," Darcy yells over the nightclub music not realizing she didn't need to or that it wouldn't have made a difference anyway. And yet, despite her reassurance that she's fine, Darcy's neck still sports the fading bruise of someone having grabbed her roughly by the throat and flinging her about by it.

WHen her answer is given and he turns for the small box, Darcy's head cants to one side in curiosity. What is- are those- hearing aids? Darcy's eyes widen faintly as she watches Hawkeye slip them into his ears and then turn the music down.

"I'm fine," she repeats in a more normal voice now that the music is gone and Hawkeye has his earing aids in. Whoa. The hand that had held the water bottle for him now reaches up to push her glasses up her nose.

"You?"

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Yes, his hearing aids are a very well kept secret. Few really know about them, because even without them he tends to hide it well by other means. But, in a small way, showing her was a concession of penance perhaps- for what he did to her while 'under the influence'.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Just getting back into the swing of things now that my downtime is done for. Psych eval passed and all that jazz." Got to love all the red tape one has to go through to make sure your fit to go back to duty after being possessed.

"You here to train or just watch?" Though his tone is a little playful in amusement considering he's the one standing there with glistening sweat on his very hard worked on, sculpted, lean chest.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"I didn't bring my skates, and watching is a very delicious offer," Darcy retorts, lips curling in a smirk.

"I actually did just come down to see how you were doing and get your take on things, if you don't mind? May's asked me to track down Patient Zero."

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"I'm not patient zero, so.. Not sure exactly what you want from me." Clint arches an eyebrow, but his guard is in place. He doesn't necessarily like talking about what he remembers from the whole ordeal. The one thing that continuously haunts him is how easily he killed that one Agent in the hallway. He still haven't been able to fully face the kid even since then.

"Ask what you want."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"I know you're not. And I'm pretty sure you're sick of talking about it. I've read through the report you gave already, but I wanted to hear about what might have caused it. I remember you grabbing me and then nothing. And I didn't Walking Dead," Darcy says, sympathy in her gaze.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Clint runs a hand through his hair, mussing the locks lightly. "I don't fully remember everything. Just bits and pieces. I went to visit Tony, some things went bad and ..." He shakes his head. "You can see more from the security tapes than what I can tell you."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"I've seen the security tapes. The blonde attacked you, but there wasn't audio. Can you fill me in?" Darcy asks, brows pulling together in a 'i hate that i have to ask these things' expression.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Clint takes a deep drink of his water. "He got upset. The chick was trying to ask him some questions and he wigged out." Setting the bottle aside, he crosses his arms against his chest. "Wasn't much to hear. When he got upset he turned into that... monster and went after her. Just kept making the horrible noise that was stuck in my head while I was 'out'. She dodged his attack and tried to protect me, I tried to run to escape and got tagged. All I remember."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Did you catch a name?" Darcy asks, before her head tilts. "Turned into a monster? LIke... a Dr. Jekyl Mr. Hyde sort of thing?"

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"Yeah, something like that." Clint has to think for a moment. All of that happened rather fast. "I caught her name: Aspen. She would be more of the one to talk to about the kid, she was taking care of him."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy gets her tablet, adding the note about Aspen. "Okay. Thanks," Darcy says. Lowering the tablet she looks up at Clint and then smiles lightly. "Did you wanna go grab a beer or something? Get your mind off shit for a bit?" Because that was enough of that. He was upset and she got a tiny bit of information for her report

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"Beer sounds pretty good right about now." Screw what time of day it is. Never a bad time for beer-30. "Let me go shower and change? Meet me in the parking garage in 30?"

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Sure, thing," Darcy agrees easily, a smile on her face. Giving a brief wave to Barton, Darcy turns to leave him to clean up while she heads to her office to change her shoes (from five inch stelletos to duct taped combat boots) and then down to the garage, where she leans on the car they'll be taking as she fusses with the infor she's gathered on her tablet while she waits.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Barton at least has decent taste. He drives a manual-transmission mazda 6. Black.

He doesn't take too terribly long to shower and clean up. When he comes down to the garage, he's in jeans, boots and a fitted black t-shirt. Shades over his eyes that have an almost deep dark purple tint in the right light.

"Ready?" Pushing a button on the key fob he unlocks the car, and will be a gentleman and open her door for her.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Pushing up from the car as barton moves over, Darcy smiles at him, saving her file and powering down the screen of hte tablet to drop into her oversized purse.

"Born so," she quips, waiting for hte door and then sliding into the front seat with no care that she's wearing a business suit with beat up army surplus army boots. In the front seat, Darcy pulls the red chopsticks from her hair to toss them into her purse and she srubs her fingers into her hair so the wavy curls fall over her shoulders. There's an almost obscene moan, eyes fluttering closed, as she lets her hair down.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Clint shows faint amusement as she lets her hair down, but it seems to be a chick thing. Settling in the driver's seat, he touches the push start and pulls out of the garage to head down the street and back into the city.

"Any particular place in general?" Its nice to 'get out' without having to plan for Avenging or anything else. Just a drink. Just relax.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Depends on what you're in the mood for. There's Creasey's Bowl, if you want to roll balls across the floor while you drink. Or Fast Eddie's if you wanna smack balls with a stick, or there's Coyote Ugly is you want to try to get me drunk enough to dance on a bar top again," Darcy offers as one might offer choices of fast food eateries. Hair down, belt not buckled yet, Darcy unbuttons her jacket and wiggle-shrugs it off, revealing the sleeveless tank top she wears until the jacket, and the bruise on her upper arm that's the same age as the hand shaped bruise one her neck.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"So who manhandled you?" Clint asks, noticing the bruise on her arm to make a set with her neck. He's not going to go for Option 3 at the moment, but 2 sounds like a well enough choice- so Fast Eddie's is where he drives to.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Jacket shrugged off, Darcy folds it up and puts it in her purse.

"Fucking MAD, Metal Arm Dude. Stabbed our newst supernatural consult, the jackass, and then fucking shrugged a tazer. I dont' remember much after he threw be down the hallway," Darcy says, bent forward to dig around in her bag.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"MAD. Thats a new one." Clint smirks a little. And something else goes into her purse. "Is that thing like the TARDIS or something?"

Assuming she is referring to the Winter Soldier, someone he's a little familiar with thanks to Nat: "At least you got out alive."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"I acronym like a fucking beast, Barton," she quips, finding tightly rolled socks(?) and sitting up. She toes off her boots one at a time to pull on what look like thigh high socks which she shoves down to under her knees.

"No. It does not let me travel through time, mustly because reporting that shit would be cray." She pauses to get her other foot socked and back into her boot.

"Yeah. At least. MAD's a scary mutherfucker, man. I didn't even give half as good as I got. And he didn't like my name calling, the pussy bastard."

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"Generally a good idea not to provoke those that could rip your head off. And probably would do it just because they are bored." Clint shakes his head with a light chuckle.

"Call me Clint." He offers, downshifting from high gear as they go onto a slower street, his hand lingering on the shifter languidly as she pretty much half changes in his car. "No kidding." He snorts at the comment about reporting time travel.

Pulling into the parking lot, he puts the brake on and the shifter into neutral before shutting the car off. "All finished?" He asks lightly of her in-car changing spree before he gets out to go open her door if she allows.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"I thinkI annoyed him wth my epic Three Stooges eye poke of doom. I am not upset about this," Darcy states, finally settlingback in her seat.

"Only if you call me Darce.. or Darcy.. or Tits.. whatever. Im easy," she replies, smirking as she watches traffic out the window. In the parking lot, Darcy nods.

"For the moment," she says, eyes landing on the sign. Clint's just quick enough to get her door. She had been reaching for the handle.

"I might loose the skirt in we're playing billards."

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"You know... Tits and saying your easy in the same sentence might give a guy a wrong impression." Clint smirks, shutting her door once she's out and locking the car. "Keep the skirt. Looks good on you."

"And we have to play pool, but fair warning, it might not be fair. I'm pretty good." He grins. He can't help it. He never misses with his bow and those trick shots are about the same as playing pool. Calculating trajetory, wind and everything else.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Does it?" Darcy says with such innocence that for a moment it sounds sincere. She even brings her hand up to rest her fingertips on her collarbone which pushes it one inch too far. Her lips quirking in a smirk send the innocent tone running.

"I did not know that. Giving guys the wrong impression is my LEAST favorite thing to do," she deadpans. Hre tone is deadpan. Her lips are smirking.

"Challenge accepted," she quips with a board smile.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"And you realize you can't bullshit a spy, right?" Clint murmurs as he moves with her to the door. Opening it, he lets her go in first. See? Gentleman when he wants to be.

Once inside, he moves to claim an open pool table for them. "What would you like to drink?"

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Wasn't bullshit. It's my LEAST favorite thing to do," Darcy repeats grinning. Because it is still a favorite thing to do. It's just the least of the favorite things. She steps into the bar, walking with Clint.

"HMm.... Sococo, double shot in a tall glass. And a Budlight. I'm feeling up for sex on a boat."

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"Coming up." Clint heads to the bar, leaving her at the pool table for the moment. Doesn't take long before he's carrying two longneck bud lights in one hand by the necks, and her double shot in a tall glass, as ordered. Setting them on the table, he turns to the pool table by them.

"I'll rack and let you take the opening shot. Fair?" He grins, stepping to pull the triangle rack out and set the balls inside.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy finds a place by a wall for her purse, that has her phone and her work tablet in it, and smiles for Clint when he gets back with the drinks.

"Sounds fair, yeah," she says, taking her drinks. The mixed drink is sipped at first.

"What's your game?"

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Once the table is set, he puts the rack away, moving next to choose his pool cue. "Standard rules. Unless you want to do something different?" Once he picks his stick, he finally goes to take a deep drink of his beer. He lets her choose her own cue, since everyone has their own feel for such things.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy's feel is This One. She moves to set the cueball on the dot.

"Nah. Standard is fine." Sighting up, Darcy smacks the cueball and scatters half of the balls from the rack, sinking none and really it was just a bad break. Not the worse ever, but really heavily Not Good.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
So the balls are scattered and no real straight decent shot. "Making me pull the tricks out early." Clint tsks, shaking his head. Playing by the rules, have to hit your ball (or type) first before the other, which makes sinking a solid to a solid for a shot or visa versa a little difficult.

He moves to the other side of the table, lining up a shot against a stripe. Hitting the ball, it bounces against the wall and smacks into a pair of stripes that are together. One makes it in a corner pocket, the other meanders to block a side pocket.
"Stripes it is."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy watches, a smirk on her lips.

"I guess we do have to pull out the tricks early," she comments, moving counterpoint to Clint so she stays in his line of sight. Her cue stick in hand, she idling strokes her fingers down it, watching Clint work his own stick.

"You buying all night or we flip flopping rounds?"

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Her antics aren't ignored, if anything they make amusement dance in his eyes. "You'll have to try harder." Clint grins, lining up the next shot to sink the next ball. He's a hard man to shake with little attempts like that.

"My treat tonight."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy grins, leaving off the lame stick stroking to make her way over to his side.

"I'm so glad you're not a college frat boy," Darcy quips, watching him 'work'. Must find squishy center.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"You've met my partner, haven't you?" Not only having trained with her, but that on and off again relationship has him steeled against certain wiles. Not that he can't be swayed, but it is just a harder feat.

Clint leans, lining up the next shot. While there is no good shot with this many balls still on the 'board' as it were, he hits the cue to knock a few around, just to make her shot a little more difficult. "Lady's turn." He grins, moving to take another drink of his beer.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Red head, black cat suit, face perfect for riding for a few hours?" Darcy replies as Clint knocks some balls around. Darcy can not do trick shots. So, when she spies something that looks reasonable, she takes a go at it, and misses terribly.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Clint laughs, "Yeah, that one." Though he has a certain respect for his partner. He doesn't.. make dirty jokes like that about her- or any woman really. Feels disrespectful and he's too much the gentleman.

Taking another drink of his beer, he grabs his cue again to go line up another shot. He is a little distracted, but not by her. Things still on his mind. He aims for the next one and sinks another stripe in a corner pocket.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
The games of pool continue, Clint making all the trick shots, Darcy making none of the normal shots, but at least Clint isn't as tense about things. Darcy is good for something. Not pool, though.