Owner	Pose
Clint Barton	From the side of a mountain to the swimming pool to get muscle tone back within two weeks might be a dream for some, but for Clint Barton, he's taking laps. It's the best physical therapy for the arm, stretch out the muscles for the ribs, and, well... it feels good. So, laps in the pool; and when he reaches the end, he's rolling underwater and pushing off from the wall, to start it all over again. Finally, after several laps, the archer is tiring, and he hangs on the side, reaching for his towel to dry off his face. Taking a breather!
Skye Johnson	Skye watches him, and gives a little lopsided grin. "Hey," she nods. "Not bad." But then again, she doesn't swim. "I thought I would find you in the archery range. Was heading there myself."
Clint Barton	Clint's got both arms resting on the concrete edge of the pool, and he's sort of bobbing in the water. There are other swimmers behind him, around, him, but he's in his own lane. Looking up as she talks to him, he gives his own grin in return. "Already did that earlier. Not gonna push that. Still, six for six." And he has to aim so he doesn't hit his own arrows. Brows rise, and he rocks his head back slightly, "Glad you're keeping up with it. Some things just call for a good old fashioned arrow."
Skye Johnson	"Always. Besides, it teaches me to slow down. I've really needed it lately. You know, my powers, etc. How have you been?" Skye chews on her lower lip. "We're okay, right? I mean breaking up didn't mean we aren't friends, does it?"
Clint Barton	"Teaches you to slow down /and/ breathe," Clint reminds. "Clears your head. You get lots of things running around in there, you're gonna take the wrong shot." Right shot, wrong time is still a wrong shot to the archer. "Even in practice. Bring the bow up, don't draw.. just look down the arrow to the target. Breathe. Pull, set, release. All one fluid motion." Archery coaching.. from the swimming pool. He offers up an encouraging smile, and it sets a little.. apologetic if not melancholy. It's a bit of emotion for Clint since truly getting back on his feet. "Should ask the same. Hell, if I can still be friends with Bobbi, I'm pretty sure we'll be okay." Bobbi'd served his divorce papers on Valentine's Day. Who does that? "Rule one. Don't burn bridges. There's just some things I gotta take care of too. Got a place, at least a couch for now, which is fine. Always got my job." He's good. "You good?"
Skye Johnson	"Well, when you were first gone, maybe. But then, I realized, we were having the time of our time, but it wasn't the right time. One of us was going to be absorbed by the other. I never wanted that." Skye smiles sorta. "The cats miss you. I think we work a visitation? I could make ramen?" Of course, if he wants, she doesn't mean *only* the two of them.
Clint Barton	Clint watches as she talks and chuffs a soft laugh, not from amusement but more.. agreement, and looks down briefly before looking back up. "We have our lives. You. Me. SHIELD. I got the motley crew I have to keep in line." The Avengers. "And I gotta stay on top." His tones are softly conversational as he tries to explain. He shrugs drying shoulders as he tries to form the words but can't. Maybe? "I wanted it. I wanted it bad. But it's not for me. There's too much that I gotta do." Clint pushes off the wall again, and flips backwards, under water before he comes up again. He blows water briefly, his hands getting it out of his eyes for a moment so he can refocus on Skye there. "They just miss the warm body. If it helps, I'll give 'em a sweatshirt?" Though ramen? "Ramen, though.. I'm there. Love that stuff."
Skye Johnson	"I know. I wanted it too. I think we forgot that piece. It happens. Hell, we shoulda screwed it out of our systems. But we didn't. It was good, but it was this or one of us became something else. Hell, you wouldn't like me, and I wouldn't have like you. I like you Clint. I love you. But you did the right thing. Really." "Still have bass fishing on the playstation. Pick a date." "But what did you find out there? Shield or Avengers?"
Clint Barton	Clint offers a lopsided grin at the suggestion they just should have kept things... physical. It's both boyish and.. not. He shrugs again before he slowly sinks under the water again, only to come up a second later. He's getting a workout! "This way, we're both good. We got this." Finally, though, Clint's done with the swimming and he takes a couple of side-strokes to the pool's edge again, and with a quick motion, he's up and out of the pool. Dripping everywhere, he reaches for his towel. The bruise on his ribs is fading, so it's not so much an angry purple or a yucky green.. but just a fading outline. No sling to be seen. His face is daubed again, digging at his eyes before he starts to dry off the rest of him. The smile returns for the offer of bass fishing, and shakes his head ruefully soon after. There's not going to be a lot of downtime for him. "SHIELD. It's all SHIELD."
Skye Johnson	Skye watches when he gets out, checking out his injuries (she can't help it). "I used to bang them out. Gods, feels like forever ago. You were the only one you slipped in." She trades a bigger towel for his tiny one. "Never let them in. That was my motto. I might have to kick your butt for that." She laugh. "Shield, huh. Tell me? How can we help."
Clint Barton	"You and Stark'd get along great on that one," though he's one to talk. But, Clint's getting better. Mostly. He's trainable, anyway. There's no judgement in those tones anywhere, though. He's gone into partner-mode, and basically anything goes in terms of conversation. It's a safe way to blow off steam and stress. He nods his thanks for the bigger towel before he starts drying off his body and legs. He's got his gymbag in the corner, and his clothes are there. "I have a bad feeling about this one. I'm going to start briefings soon." This one is his. "Everyone's gonna have a place."
Skye Johnson	"Cool. I'll look forward to it." Skye grins as she realizes where his pants are. "I'll let you be. Gotta practice my archery. Next time." She winks, and leaves him to his pants.
Clint Barton	Nodding, Clint watches her as she turns to go, and follows her exit with his gaze. Once she's gone, he turns around to his gym bag and throws his towel over his shoulder in the same movement. Time to get dressed. More stretches, go home, make some arrows.. order out. Or in. "Welcome back to the grind, Barton," is murmured. "'Join up', they said. 'It'll be fun,' they said." Shaking his head, he grabs his bag before walking into the locker room to get out of wet clothes and into dry civvies. He still actually has an AAR to fill out. Yay.