Owner	Pose
Clint Barton	"So, you're sure about this?" Clint asks, smiling as he and Skye, hit the range, this time the plan is that the both of them shoot arrows. "Because it's not as easy as I make it look," he says unable to resist that little humble brag as he hip checks her on the way to their spot on the firing line. Once they're there, he puts down the bow case he's carrying and a couple of quivers of arrows. "Totally cool if you back out," now he's just pushing his luck, but despite all the attempts to 'dissuade' Skye he pops open the case for them, revealing his usual tech-y bow and a simpler wooden one for Skye. He steps aside to let her grab her weapon.
Skye Johnson	"Pffft," Skye scoffs as she hip checks him back. "You're just afraid I might get *gooooood*" There's a laugh from her as she says that, drawing it out in a singsong way, totally making fun of him. And there's absolutely no way she's backing down. "Totally should make a bet. I hit the target, you.. mmm, what's fair if I hit the target?" Hoping he'll let it go with target and not bullseye. When the case is opened and 'her' bow is evident, she gives a long suffering sigh. "Sure. Now we know why you hit everything and nobody else does. Hotshot plays with the fancy toys. Unlike some of us who can make a cellphone dance." And it's true. Enough time and a hotspot, girl can use a cellphone to hack. It's not pretty, but she's done it.
Clint Barton	"Trust me, that's not something I worry about," Clint scoffs, softening the joke with a grin. "A bet? Hmm. And you just have to hit the target?" he gives it some consideration. "Hit the target, and I'll make you dinner at my place sometime and I won't even bring the frou-frou beer," he offers. The comment about the bow earns a smirk for Skye and another hip check as he picks up the wooden bow. "Okay, fair is fair, we use the 'cellphone' bow," he says passing it to Skye and closing the case.
Skye Johnson	There's a laughing noise of indignation from Skye, "Hey! I could too get good. Man, what did I do to deserve that diss, huh?" Her fingers run along the bow, mostly just checking it out. "You cook dinner and no frou-frou beer? And I get to see you use the cellphone bow? Oh, honey, you have a deal." With a smirk, and trying oh-so-hard not to laugh and failing, she asks in her best vapid voice, "I don't understand, where do I plug it in?"
Clint Barton	Clint just grins, "Not a diss, just the facts, you'll see when you give it a try," he explains, the mischievous glint in his eye suggesting he may just be teasing her some more. As for the terms, "So what happens if you don't hit the target?" he asks. As for the bow, it's got a smooth glass like finish on most of it that's smooth to the touch except where the bow has been dinged or scuffed, and there's more than a few of those showing its been used. The grip carved to fit nicely into the hand, and has a single layer of hockey tape wrapped around it. If she tries the string, there's a fair bit of resistance, like she's trying to pull up a 30 pound weight with it. The sing-song question gets a snort before Clint steps in behind her, saying, "God, it's a good thing you're cute," playing along, before he gets down to business. "Now get the bow settled whatever hand feels good," he says, as he twists to grab one of the arrows from the quiver, a simple target arrow, nothing too heavy or fancy.
Skye Johnson	Her fingers run along the surface of teh bow, appreciating, oddly, the places where its been nicked and dinged the most, her fingertips lying there the longest of times, and returning to them. "You use this often, don't you?" she asks, for the moment, mostly serious. But she's Skye, and they're them, and there's that question. "What do you get? Is this some cheeky hope I'll offer the standard cocky I'm not going to miss you get a blowjob answer?" When the string is put into place, she tests it. It's, indeed, tougher than she expected to pull it, giving her a moment's pause. "Daaamn," is muttered under her breath, covered up by a chuckle to the 'lucky you're cute' comment. "So I'm cute, huh? Wondered when you were going to admit it." The bow is tested out, and ends up being lofted in her right hand.
Clint Barton	Clint nods at the observation, "Not a lot now, but it's the bow I got started on, I like to trot it out from time to time though, to remind me where I started from," he says, getting a little contemplative as he does so, before Skye, being Skye injects more humour into the situation, he grins, "Honey, we're dating, I really don't hope I have to make a bet for that sort of thing. So, really, what do I get if you don't hit? Other than the knowledge I'm a crappy teacher." Clint can't help but smile at her reaction to the weight. It brought him back to his days under Jacques and Buck, when he was just starting out on the whole shooting thing and 30lbs seemed impossible. These days it felt like he was pulling wet noodles, but it took a long time to get there. "I am sure I've called you cute before," he insists, with a chuckle, "Probably coupled with annoying, and bossy, but I am sure I've done it." When Skye picks her right hand, he nods, he'd forgotten to have her check eye dominance, which means there might be something to the bad teacher thing, but he decides to roll with it for one shot anyhow. He reaches around her holding out the arrow, "Now put it to the string, but don't draw the bow yet, just keep things loose, you're only putting it in place."
Skye Johnson	Skye's lips purse over a smirk, eyes carrying the amusement as she looks over. "Well, not all girls like doing that, you know." Though the naughty little smirks remains. "Good thing I'm not most girls, huh? Mmm.. Okay, hotshot, I don't hit the target, I'll pay for that fancy dinner of ours, and along with the dress and heels, I'll throw in sexy underwear to boot. How's that for fair?" Even if he probably is getting the better deal out of this one no matter how you look at it, win or lose. There's something of a laugh as he *claims* he's called her cute before. "I don't know about that. I recall bossy. And annoying. But no cute. I think I'd remember a cute in there." The bow is held up, the girl trying to figure out how to sight with it, but before she manages to figure out that small tidbit, he's handing her the arrow. "So, just holding it, huh?" She says it in tones that suggest she thinks she's getting the kindergarten version of this all, but in reality, she remembers early gun training. It went similarly. All the prequels to the actual fact. Things that actually added up and made a difference once she got to shoot the thing, and, unlike so many others in her class who had to unlearn bad habits, in the end, she ended up ahead of the game in many respects. Not that she still didn't have a long way to go as a marksman, but she didn't embarrass herself with her firearm.
Clint Barton	"I definitely like to think so," Clint remarks with his own smirk, about Skye not being like most girls. It's true enough, and not just about the thing with blowjobs. "Wow, really going all out. Do I need to throw in some fancy underwear on my end to make things fair?" he asks, because yes, he was definitely getting the better deal here. "I am pretty sure I said cute, or maybe hot? Means the same thing, right?" Watching Skye get sighting makes him frown. He remembers back to when he was watching her shoot guns before, "Try switching hands," he suggests. "Looks like your left eye is dominant. You fight that your aim will be way off and I'll definitely be collecting on our bet."
Skye Johnson	Now he *really* gets a look. "And when did we call me hot?" She snorts in disbelief. "I don't remember that, either. And you bet your sweet ass you should throw in fancy underwear. That bullseye stuff is cute, but I think I know what lives in your pants now without the roadmap." There's a saucy little grin with that. The saucy doesn't last long, though. She's most definitely cross-dominant - not that it mattered as much with her gun. No string to pull there. You really had a lot more room to play with sighting. But this? Oh, yeah. It was going to matter. "Huh? Like how?" It's not that she doesn't follow what he's sayig, it's just.. it feels weird. Like trying to cross your arms the other way weird. "Just how am I supposed to do that? My body is saying no way." Still, she keeps on trying. Theoretically it should just be a matter of getting over yourself and training hands to do their own thing. Some can. Some can't. Those who can't learn to compensate for the wonky sighting. It's not the end of the world. Just more of a challenge.
Clint Barton	Skye's look is met with an arched eyebrow, "I am sure, I called you hot -and- cute at various points," he says, before allowing himself to laugh and say, "But if it makes a difference, Skye, you are so very hot and cute, as well as bossy and annoying," he says not even coming close to keeping a straight face. "Oh come on, you have no idea how long it took to find those boxers," he replies, "But fine, for you, I'll get something else." "Here," Clint says dropping his own sass and getting into teacher mode. He steps in behind her and walks her through getting the bow settled in her other hand, odds were it was going to feel weird regardless, and when he's done he steps back again asking, "Any better?"
Skye Johnson	The walkthrough goes about as well as expected. The left hand switch taking time to get used to, and even only then in the sense that she'll allow that maybe she can give it a try, though she doesn't sound entirely convinced that she can actually shoot this way. "I guess. I'm not trying to hoist the bow over to the left anymore at least. Can actually sight down it straight. That's an improvement, isn't it?" She's really not sure, the uncertainty coming through in her tones. "You know, that whole Skye is hot and cute would sound a whole lot better without the sarcastic tones, hotshot." She lowers the bow enough to shake her head and grin at him. "You make it sound like your mother just made you come over and apologize. As for the boxers? Fine. They're kinda cute in a kitchy way. And you're pretty hot yourself. Dare I say, even, maybe even sexy. But if you bring it up in public, I'll deny it. So don't get too cocky."
Clint Barton	Clint stays patient through the process, giving pointers and stepping in to help direct her hands and her shoulders as needed. "It is, you definitely want to be able to sight, but tell you what, we'll shoot one this way, then one the other, let you get a feel for both it'll tell you best which way works for you. No bet on those shots either, because I'm a nice guy." As for the cute and hot business, he offers and exaggerated sigh which covers his concern that he's on the verge of another minefield. He's already standing next to Skye and so he uses the opportunity to lean in and whisper, "Skye, you're hot, cute -and- sexy," he says before stepping back. "And I'll say it any time anywhere," he glances over to one of the phones on the wall that tie into the building intercom. "It'll just add those rumours, but hey, I'll do a full building announcement if that helps any," he says, joking, seriously joking, not as though it wouldn't be morifying for the both of them.
Skye Johnson	Skye pauses, and holds the bow down, turning to regard him rather seriously, "Hey? It's me, right? I was joking. Remember me? Girl whose bed you visit? Or is this to do with that whole rumour thing May brought up and that look you gave me about not fucking it up?" For the moment, all thoughts of shooting bow and side bets take a backseat. Verge of concern noted, and minefield sidestepped by an all too rare non-joking moment of her own.
Clint Barton	Clint lets out a breath, relieved on one hand and on the other embarrassed to have misread things. "Yeah, May, might have gotten into my head a little bit with that bicycle remark," he concedes. "I know I said I don't care, but it sort of threw me. Anyhow, it's dumb and let's move on with the lesson, okay?" he suggests, with some Skye level deflection there.
Skye Johnson	Skye tiptoes up offering her lips for a kiss. "Look, this one's my fault. I took the joke too far. Not really one of those girls you need to reassure they're pretty or whatever all the time. Pretty sure you'd not be coming back if you didn't like me or it were just a roll in the hay." A slight furrow mars her brow. "In the interests of honesty? I had to stop and think about it too. That whole bicycle thing. I'm not sure it applies here. Plenty of other girls you could have tracked down to pull that shit with if you wanted, and nobody can say the way we ended up dating was typical. If you planned that, then let me sign away my life to SHIELD now." Like she already hasn't in so many ways. "Because that truly would have been a feat." Her piece said, it's a scab she doesn't have to pick it. "Though would have been funny to see if you'd have actually picked up that phone and broadcast that. Would have been worth the endless ribbing afterwards."
Clint Barton	He accepts the kiss but doesn't let her take the blame. "Jokes are our thing, we can't start second guessing our selves on either side of it. So partly my bad too. Glad to hear you're not one of those girls though, but if you have any doubts, let me know, and I'll make sure you know how hot I think you are," he offers with a grin. Clint's humor returning, he says, "What they didn't teach you the piss the target off, let them confide in you about the massive changes happening in their lives, then spill beer to take them to bed technique yet? Man May is slipping," he jokes. "But yeah, seriously, no way -anyone- could plan what happened with us. Anyhow, what I am saying is I hope you know I am your not just some box on my personal scorecard of agents to bang. I really, sorta like you," he says, the sorta being the needed bit of deflection lest they just pour all their feelings out there. He looks over to the phone, "I can still do it," he offers as his smile comes back along with his humour, totally bluffing though.
Skye Johnson	"Mmmm, show me how hot you think I am.. There's an offer a girl can't refuse. Might just take you up on that one later." Her return grin is an even match for his. "Yeah. Jokes are our thing. We just gotta remember there's real under it." A hand pats his chest, and lies these, her head titled back at him. Stupid foot difference in height! "You didn't have to come back if I were a box to tick off. Hell, I'd have fucked you without the date, Clint. You're hot. Funny. Sweet in ways I bet lots don't get to see. And I really kinda sorta like you too." Her lips do that half-twist she uses so well to cover her tracks. "And don't tempt me with the phone." Though he may be able to tell by her grin and the twinkle in her eyes that she's *yay* close to being just that tempted. On principle.
Clint Barton	"Huh. Well with something like that to look forward to, I gotta say you may have found something that'd actually make me want to skip out on archery practice," Clint replies, still grinning before he nods more soberly. "True. I guess we just have to learn to speak up when we're getting close to that real." Clint looks down at Skye, mirth showing in his eyes as he takes in the height difference, from his angle, it was amusing, plus if it meant she kept grabbing his shirt, or leaning her hand on his chest, he was totally okay with that. The rest, it makes sense, and even touches him a little, his grin, takes on a bit of that dopey aspect he'd hidden before, but he quickly reins it in, joking to cover the real by saying, "Now you tell me, I could have save a ton on all that frou-frou beer," which was to say, she was understood, things were cool. He glances at Skye and then back to the phone, "You're tempting me, but we have all those plans for later and I can't do them if Fury's got me scrubbing the deck of the Oddessy with a toothbrush all week," he says trying to duck out of the bluff before he catches whatever Skye's got and actually does it.
Skye Johnson	"Oh, no," Skye tells him with complete seriousness, but for that twinkle glinting in the brown of her eyes, "I'd have made you bring the frou-frou beer regardless. I have standards you know." Which she really can't say keeping a straight face, laughter burbling up from within. "Oh, Clint. I so do like you. We're good. Even if we're assholes sometimes." His dopey look noted and tucked away. Its momentary surfacing not a thing she needs to flaunt or dig at - especially as she might have to dig a little too deeply into her own inner denials, and that would be just a bit terrifying. "True," she allows, with regards to Fury. "But you'd look terribly funny doing it. Wearing a french maid's uniform.." Then she shrugs and lets the image drift away. "C'mon hotshot. I want that dinner."
Clint Barton	Clint definitely can't keep a straight face at that. "Oh good, one of us needs those," he says before bending in for another quick kiss. What she says about how she feels, is heard and by the look on his face appreciated, but he still ducks behind humour to say, "Only sometimes?" At the mention of dinner and the bet that would decide it, he says, "Okay, let's cover the rest," and gets right to it. The pre-draw, the draw, sighting down the shaft, setting the shot, where he may just take a little bit more time than needed helping her set her hips, and then when it's all done he says, "Now, loose and keep your eye on the target when you do."
Skye Johnson	Skye chuckles softly, taking the kiss. "Figures it's the hacker who has standards.." His deflected 'only sometimes?' gets one of those looks they keep exchanging. That pause where silence is what goes on between them and they move past it, steps ahead of where they were. When she speaks, finally, it's with a breezy, offhand, "Only on days that end in y. So don't get too excited about it." And the bow is taken up again. She's probably not the worst study he's had. Likely not the best either. The cross-dominance isn't helping any. And if he dwells over setting her hips in the right direction, she might be forgiven for drawing that out a little herself by feigning some not getting it, enjoying his touch, however platonic it is at this moment. Then she's ready to shoot. Or as ready as she's liable to get without actually shooting an arror. At this point it's all trial, error, and refining technique. Mostly trial and error though. Her feet set properly, she nocks the arrow and lifts the bow to correct shoulder height, drawing as she does so. Were she better at this, the motion would be fluid and leave her body set and relaxed for the shot. As it is, she's some adjustments of fingers and bow. She does manage to get things in order, though, and lets off a shot. All without injuring herself or others.
Clint Barton	"As opposed to the carnie?" Clint replies. "Definitely." The look is taken acknowledged with a quick look in return, when the breezy reply that follows, he says in turn, "Sure thing," and gets down to the business of helping her shoot, with only a tiny bit of distraction, smiling as he catches on to her playing at confused. Despite their bet Clint watches Skye as she shoots and not the target, her form goes a little wobbly when it's time for the final pull and release, but in all she didn't snag a finger on the string or have it snap back against her wrist. As for the arrow, he turns from Skye to the target and finds it buried at the edge of the target half on, half off, just freaking perfect. "Totally counts as a miss," he pronounces with a grin.
Skye Johnson	She makes a face at him, taking her free hand and making a chatty mouth of it, fingers snapping down on the thumb as she tells him, "Blah blah blah. The mouth moves but I can't hear it. Besides, hotshot, that was one shot." Skye tosses him a grin. "You really happy with leaving it at that? I'd have thought your manhood would demand more of you as a teacher." Totally pulling that card out from earlier and playing it down on the table.
Clint Barton	"Did I say, you'd get more than one shot?" Clint asks, as he ducks down to pluck another arrow out of the quiver and hold it out to her. "Because I can't remember." The teacher crack, makes him put both hands over his heart. "Ouch, Skye, ouch," he says laughing. "Right where I live," he says, before giving her foot a nudge with his own. "So, like I said, let's test things out the way you had it first to see which ways feels best, then we can do a shot for all the marbles." He steps back in to help her get set up for this shot.
Skye Johnson	There is utterly no remorse from the young woman. Especially as he not only is laughing he /had/ said she would get two shots to see what way felt best and they'd take it from there. "Shall I kiss it better?" Skye pretends to pluck an errant arrow from his heart, much where his hand had rested. "I'll just save this one for the real shot. I'm sure it will bring me luck." She's helped with her second shot, and while the draw is better, the aim is not. It's really a crapshoot either way as far as potential, though she's the one who wrinkles up her nose and offers, "Not sure, but I think I can learn to pull it left better than I can compensate for not seeing a damned thing with it in my right. What say you?"
Clint Barton	"Would you?" Clint says leaning in for another kiss, before chuckling as she does the whole arrow bit. "Well you certainly hit the mark with it once already," he says laughing. Then it's time for the shot, this one is definitely wide of the mark and he nods in response to her assessment. "Yeah, shooting lefty is definitely working better for you," he agrees and ducks down for the third arrow, flipping it around so he hands it fletching first to Skye. "So, moment of truth time," he says.
Skye Johnson	The arrow, the deciding arrow, is taken. "I still feel like this would be more fair if I had more practice shots." Her protests aren't all that voluble, though. The possibility exists she might actually be looking forward to dressing up for dinner for him. It all will depend on how badly she misses the target... Skye takes care lining up her draw and her aim. It's all so very, very serious. And by the looks of it, she's got decent enough odds of hitting the target. All that she needs to do is let her arrow fly.. Except, at the last second, she doesn't. Or, rather, what she does is so very deliberate there can be no discussion that she 'missed' so much as the act was purposeful, Skye tilting the bow up, and giving a half turn so that she's not even remotely faced or aimed at the target, and she lets the arrow fly. A smug little smile sitting upon her lips.
Clint Barton	Clint borrows Skye's 'blah, blah, blah,' hand gesture in response to her protests. "Just take the shot," he urges. Whatever merit her argument about more shots might have had, Clint has to admit, Skye didn't look like she needed it. "Guess I'm cooking dinner," he mumbles under his breath and while he watches how she goes through the final motions he's thinking about what the heck he's going to cook, when suddenly, she turns and fires wide, way wide. A laugh erupts out of Clint's throat and his amusement only intensifies when Skye turns with that smug little smile on her lips. "God, you're amazing," he says letting that slip out without the filter of deflection. There's a moment when he opens his mouth to claw it back or tack on some joke, but he lets it lie. "So I take it dinner is on then?" he says instead.
Skye Johnson	Oh, she's pleased. So very, very pleased. "Oh, dinner is on. So very on," she tells him. There's a tiny moment of softness that touches her before Skye makes her way over, holding out the bow on her outstretched hands, as though she is but the defeated, offering just due to the victor. Something of ritual about it. "I like you too," she says simply, letting that space be nothing but bare between them. Holding that moment, like the bow, until he divests her of it.
Clint Barton	Clint catches that moment of softness in Skye's features and savours it. Some part of him shouting at the rest, see, good things can happen when you open up. Even odds though if the rest of him listens. He lets the bow, and those words sit between them for a moment, before he picks up the bow reverently, with a smile for Skye. "Thanks," he says, for more than just his weapon back. "So, I'd offer to shoot, but we know how that goes, wanna head out?" he offers, putting the bow at his side.
Skye Johnson	Skye lets the solemn of the moment play out for just a second longer than she normally would. It's one of those silences again, only they share it instead of tossing it back and forth. It's a shortlived thing, though. Too much exposure in it. Too much real. "Bah, you'd miss and you know it," but she nods. "Let's blow this popsicle stand. I believe there's frou-frou in my fridge waiting for us."