Owner	Pose
Clint Barton	Really, who works on Sundays? Is the office even open? On a sunny day with the weather warming up, most everyone can be found out and about, walking the streets down in Times Square, or lounging around on the quad out in Central Park. Maybe taking a walk around the Cloisters up at the top of the island, on the west side? Absolutely none of those things crossed the mind of Clint Barton, Field Agent of SHIELD. Instead, he's dressed down with a gymbag in hand; the weight distribution screams that within isn't shorts or sweats but rather arrows and a breakdown bow. He's got jeans on, boots, t-shirt with a light hooded jacket overtop, and he's making his way towards the 'tunnel' that will lead to the building proper, where the elevators are. There aren't many in the building, all are out and about, doing exactly anything other than working.
Mockingbird	Wait... People are supposed to take Sundays off? That would explain why everything is so quiet! Guess someone forgot to send Bobbi the memo. Or she ignored it. Who knows which. Whatever the case, Bobbi is dressed in a pair of sneakers, stretchy yoga pants and a sports bra with a hoodie zipped up over it. In her hand is a bag of her own. She stands with it slung over her shoulder as she waits for the elevator to arrive, her blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail. Guess Clint isn't the only one who decided a workout was in order while no one else was home.
Clint Barton	Slowing up, Clint comes to a halt, glancing at the button on the elevator lobby, double checking. It's human nature to give it another *poke*, and he does before taking a step back. "Hey, Birdie," is given in greeting. "Why aren't you out running the Cloisters? Good day for it. Avoiding the early tourists will give you a little more work on obstacles." His free hand drops into a jacket pocket, and he sets his bag down at his feet protectively.
Mockingbird	Bobbi's eyes slide ovwr to Clint amd she can't help but smirk. "You realize of that nickname, right?" She shrugs slightly. "Thought I'd take advantage of the room here while most everyone was out. It's normally more trouble than it's worth but on days like this..." Her eyes drop to the bag and then lift back up to him. "Great minds, hm?" Her.left hand is tucked into the pocket of her hoodie.
Clint Barton	"Archery range, then R&D. I'm supposed to meet with Pierce after I test out his lighter weight stuff. And, I need to give him the info on the telemetry arrow. I'll probably just shoot someone's car and see if it pings. If it does, see how long the signal lasts." Probably a pizza delivery guy. Or, if he ups his game, Chinese? Clint picks up his bag again, letting it hang on two fingers. "You need a spotter, or you meeting someone down there?"
Mockingbird	"You're gonna tag the poor pizza guy's car?" She knows the Hawk well. "Nope. Just me today so if your volunteering and are up for a spar, I'm not gonna turn you down." She grins as she steps into the newly opened elevator. "Unless you think you might not be able to keep up..."
Clint Barton	"Sure, why not. Or the Chinese guy. I wanna know why he doesn't get to the apartment in 30 or less. Little bastard." While Clint may sound grumbly, there's something of humor in his undertones. When the door *dings* open, he holds the door open until Bobbi steps inside before he follows. His hand hovers over the R&D floor button briefly, but he exhales in a theatrically put-upon sigh and pokes the floor for the gym. He's in peak condition right now; arms, shoulders.. and he's quick. "Yeah, yeah.. I'll spot you."
Mockingbird	Left hand still tucked away, Bobbi laughs. "Like you mind... Or did they stop doing the 30 minites or it's free?" She leans back against the wall, watching him before she rolls her eyes. "Aw, Clint, you spoil me." A chickle comea from her, right hand shifting the bag slightly. "I'll tell ya what... You pin me... Dinner and beer's on me."
Clint Barton	"When I call, it means I'm hungry." That's almost a complaint, and blue eyes move to the top of the doors, watching the floors. Brows rise and Clint looks back at Bobbi, and there's a moment when he actually considers before, "And if you win?" He's almost afraid to ask, "You get to announce at the bar that you kicked my ass. Again." Again. Mockingbird is //good//.
Mockingbird	"You buy. Or you have to spot me for a week. Take your pick." Bobbi's, technically, off duty and so she's a little more laid back and relaxed than she might be if she were in 'uniform'. It would seem, perhaps, that she's changed some during hwr time on the west coast. "You still goin' to that dive bar off the highway?"
Clint Barton	Clint once again looks as if he considers, but as the door opens with that *ding* of the floor, he's got his bag in hand. "Okay, you got it." First one off, he holds the door until Bobbi steps off, and then he lets the doors close. "The di- yeah. It's close, and I like it. Sal is still there, and his wife just had her knee replaced. So she's just behind the bar now."
Mockingbird	"Is he? Wow." Bobbi winces as she heads down the hall towards the gym. "I bet she's not happy. She loved being out there and mingling. Is she doin' alright?" She glances over at him, enjoying the ease of thr conversation. "I should stop by amd say hello some time. It's been a while." A long while, actually. "Their girl finally make it out or is she still waiting tables there?"
Clint Barton	"She's doing okay," Clint offers as the pair walk down the hall. For the Sunday, it almost seems as if they have the place to themselves. The gym, sure. But upstairs in R&D, there really are people working 24/7. "Kelsey, yeah. She's still there. I think that if she doesn't get out of there soon, she's not gonna. Figure, there are worse places to be, and you gotta admit, if anything goes down in that bar, they're going to have more than a few of us as backup." Or, sadly, clean-up. But he doesn't really say that; he doesn't have to. Once they get to the gym proper, Clint raises his head to nod in the direction of the mats, "Time to warm up."
Mockingbird	Bobbi's lips quirk in smirk and she chuckles. "Damn right they would." She knows when he meant but she's going to respond to what he said. "Poor kid. She was so certain she'd make it out. Definitely worse place though." Her bag is set aside and she withdraws her left hand to unzip and remove the hoodie. Clint may well catch sight of the glint of metal on her hand as she makes her way to the mats.
Clint Barton	"She'll be happy to see you, I figure." Clint wanders towards another bench to put his bag down. He doesn't have a change of gym clothes, but that's okay. He sits down on the bench and begins to untie and then loosen the laces of his boots. The glint of jewelry on her hand gains his attention before he looks down at what he's doing studiously. //Is it an admission to maybe not thinking everything through, or is it a way to keep people away from her, claiming she's just not interested?// Once he's down to his stockinged feet, Clint puts the boots aside and shrugs off his jacket, revealing a somewhat tight-fitting t-shirt. He really is in good form; perfect for running roofs in NYC, running and climbing up what would seem to others to be sheer walls. As long as there's a handhold or foothold, he's good. As she walks to the mats, he watches her movement. //Damn, she still looks good...//
Mockingbird	"It'll be good to see her again too," Bobbi responds as she turns to face him, waiting for him to join her on the mat. "You been keeping busy, I see." He looks good. Probably the best she's seen him. "Still as quick as you were before?" A brow arches at him and a smirk curves her lips.
Clint Barton	To be fair, Clint is in jeans and t-shirt with socks. He's not going to be //as// maneuverable as he could be, but then again? He's a Field Agent. He doesn't get the liberty of going to work in sweats, etc. Soon enough, he wanders onto the mat, looking a little less focussed and pumped as she may be. Still, it's all in his approach, anyway. He's not fidgeting or hesitant. Just.. meandering. "Work's been keeping me busy. Sending me here and there, you know.. the kind of places where you want to give a 'no shit, there I was story' but at the last minute you remember you can't?" Clint smiles tightly, but he's got that amused expression. "As for quick, depends on where and how.." Clint begins a slow circle, his head canting as he watches her. "Could say the same for you.. you're looking good. Any 'no shit, there I was' stories?"
Mockingbird	Bobbi watches him, circling with him as she smirks. "Well, whatever they have you doing, it's working." And then she chuckles amd moves in, a simple lunge to test his reflexes. "A few but, like you said..." The tight smile has her head tilting. "What's up, Clint? Somethin's off..." She moves navk, twisting her body and dropping down to knock his feet out from under him.
Clint Barton	"Goat eyes. They're apparently a delicacy in some places. One of those things that you take, eat and smile when you're doing it." Clint watches the movements, looking for the little tells; it's been a little while, so maybe he's a little rusty? "Nah, I'm fi-" The moment Bobbi moves, Clint is taking that halfstep back, twisting, feinting, then lowering to move in to body-check with his shoulder. Close in fast and go for center. Hes's got his feet, so far.
Mockingbird	Bobbi's nose wrinkles. "Oh... You didn't... Did you?" The mere thought kinda makes her a little ill to even think about. He rushes in and Bobbi just barely moves out of the way in time. Seems they might both be a little rusty. It brings a chuckle from her. "Damn. I had almost forgotten..." She closes in on him, meaning to go up and over then spin inyo a kick to his core, hoping to push him back."You always were a challenge."
Clint Barton	"Yeah. I just wanted to die then and there. At least they didn't try and sell me their 9 yr old daughter." Clint doesn't make near the amount of contact he thought he would, and recovering, he's advanced on, and before he can get out of his own way, *whoof*, he gets pushed back with a touch of air departing his lungs. He works with the move, though, and uses the momentum back to regain his own center. "Looks like you've got some muscle memory goin' on there, Bobs." Clint wipes the side of his nose with the back of his hand and starts to move around again, spinning and trying to get close in order to push at the top and leg-sweep from the bottom to get her on her back. "Still am, I hope."
Mockingbird	"Mountain oysters aren't any better." She almost gags at the memory of it. "Six beers later and I could STILL taste them!" She steps back, returning to a neutral pose as he regains his footing. "A little. Part of it's the partner." The move he pulls next is a new one and while she adapts to part of it, she still ends up on her back, air being knocked from her. "You've picked up some new tricks." She chuckles, bringing her legs up to wrap around him amd try to roll them over. "Yes. You are."
Clint Barton	"I actually know what that is," Clint grimaces and shakes his head before he's got her on her back. She does get the hold on him, and he's down, with the pair rolling. Where they stop, nobody knows! He does put his hands out to try and see if he can't get her pinned under him, using his weight as well as balance. "Old dog. New tricks. Still getting some down, rusty on others."
Mockingbird	They'll both likely have a few new bruises but that's all part of the fun! Right? Right. Whem it comes to a stop, Bobbi blinks to find herself pinned under him. "Looks like you've got a lot of them down pretty damn well to me " She can't help but chuckle. "Who do spar with these days?"
Clint Barton	Bruises are fun! Bruises, Clint can talk about. 'See, was sparring with the ex-wife, and she got a good shot on me. But I got her in the end, got her on her back first.' He's leaning in on that pin, and there's a moment when he lingers before catching himself and rolling off and to the side. He gains his feet quickly and offers a hand up. "Cap, when he's available. 'Tash, still. Now, I just guess I've got more time to work out. I'd rather be on a roof somewhere, but I'll take what I can get." Clint wipes at his face, his forehead meeting his upper arm, "You back for awhile now?"
Mockingbird	Exactly! Bruises are good. Erm... Yeah... He linger and Bobbi wets her lips and stoos breathing for a moment. Until he moves and then she rolls the opposite way. Clearing her throat, she pushes up to her feet and makes her way over to the towels. One is tossed at him and she grins, trying to catch her breath. "It's paying off." Her head tilts and a brow arches. "So... Let's go up on the roof... I'll play target...With armor and padding, of course."
Clint Barton	Bobbi doesn't take his hand, then, and Clint wipes his palm on the side of his jeans. A quick sniff is given to one side, then the other before he shrugs lightly. "Hope so.. but thanks." A lopsided smile comes and he adds, "You're buyin', right?" Wasn't that the bet? Shaking his head, though, Clint gestures towards his stuff. "I gotta get to R&D to pick up those arrow heads." His smile dips a little as he sits down to get his boots back on. "Raincheck on the offer? I'm not due for a duty station move until early next week. Then, it'll only be a few days. In and out. So, I'll take you up on it sooner rather than later." One boot is put on, laced up. The second follows the first, all laced up, tied. He gets a hand on his light jacket, but he's watching her. "Okay, Birdie?"
Mockingbird	He's watching her and she's watching him. Intently. A look he may recognize. The smile and laugh comes easy and she nodd. "Yep. My treat." Her brows knit and she steps towards him. "You know where to find me." There's a pause and then she leans down to kiss his cheek. "Be careful out there." She lingers before straightening and heading for the door.