1963-10-31 - Jailcell conversation
Summary: Sean, and later Clint, have a chat with Barney.
Related: Some other stuff
Theme Song: None
sean clint barney 


Word travels fast in this office, just like in every office, ever. So it doesn't take long for it to filter even down to the new guy that they have the crossbow guy in custody and that he tried to choke out the director. Now no one thinks that Peggy needs any help in that regard, but she is still their boss, who happens to be 'in a certain way' and so it has certainly rubbed more than a few the wrong way. Sean has waited for most of the crowd in the office to die down before he decides to see what the fuss is all about.

Making his way down towards the holding cell with a foam cup of coffee in one hand and a file folder in the other, he casually strolls down towards the holding cells.

*

It's a cell. A very sparse cell. One of those cells that really doesn't have many amenties other than a pot to, well, piss in. Barney is settled with his back to a corner, his head hanging down, looking a little worse for wear. At least the blood's dried on his face and is 'kind of' cleaned off. His clothes aren't quite as lucky.

He can hear everything, however, and as the footsteps get closer, his head raises and those blue eyes stare out towards the opening. Anyone he 'knows'? Maybe, doubtful, but maybe.

*

Leaning against a wall opposite the cell Sean places the coffee on a nearby file cabinet to idly leaf through the folder in front of him. It mostly has his notes from the assassination as no one has officially pulled him into the rest of the case, but he has at least gathered drips and drabs from around the office.

"Really, one question. Why a fuckin' crossbow? Didja leave yer broadsword in another tunic? I didn't even know they made those anymore.. I mean d'ya know how few people we had to look through t'find who goes around shootin' people with weapons from hundreds of years ago? It's like you and a handful of carnie washouts."

Maybe he has a point that's he'll get to. Maybe he's just here to poke at him. Who knows?

*

Barney eyes the coffee set aside on the file cabinet for a long moment before he looks back at Sean. "No comment," is given evenly, his voice a little hoarse. "The guy who took out my medic friend used a damned bow. Maybe he did it." That is delivered with a hint of a smirk on his face. "I like swords. Love guns."

Barney shrugs, but it's a single-sided gesture; he's keeping his right hand close to his body, not moving it. "I understand people use crossbows in hunting to take down animals."

*

Furrowing his brow Sean scribbles something down on the paper, he's been meaning to find out why the hell a SHIELD agent is also using a bow. He had heard that as well and is just as confused about that too.

As Barney mentions hunting, Sean's eyebrows lift up and he looks up just enough to make eye contact. "Is that what you were doin' in Harlem? Takin' down an animal?" Racial motivation for an assassin doesn't make sense, but it might help them find out more if he is tied to white supremacists.

Sean can't help but add "Aww, did Mrs. Carter hurt yer poor shoulder?" Yes, he initially had thought to get some revenge on Peggy's behalf but obviously she doesn't require that of her male subordinates.

*

Barney watches the scribbling on the pad and brows rise, "They keepin' that sorta thing from you? C'mon, I ain't tellin' you nothin' that your superiors don't know already. Yeah.. one of your boys is a caveman. Ask him about hunting."

Blue eyes lift back to Sean and he stares for a long moment at the agent before that smirk rises again. "I am always walkin' around Harlem. Bars are good there. You should go one day. The girls are.. amazing."

Barney does keep his arm close and his jaw shifts at the information gained as to who the woman was in the room. "Huh.. your Director, huh?" He chuckles, and it's a hoarse sound. "When only the best will do. I'm flattered." Beat. "Who's 'Steve'? Mr. Carter?"

*

The writing is intermittent throughout as Sean is very used to taking notes on just about anything and everything he does in this line of work, assuming he's not actually undercover. He does certainly add a *Hunting buddy?* *Personal connection?* note to the notes about Clint, but doesn't react to it.

"Oh so ya go to Harlem, have some fun, shoot some people, go back to your fake apartment? Was that an FPI bolt hole, or one of your own? Surprised ye have enough cash t'keep more than one or two of those places now that yer out flappin in the breeze."

"Don't be." flattered that is "I t'ink she was just lookin' f'r someone she c'd take without breakin a sweat an' we were fresh out of lightweights till you came in." He doesn't react to the question about Steve, but maybe that's because Mr. Carter is Daniel Sousa and Sean genuinely doesn't know what Steve he's referring to.

*

Barney exhales in a sigh and puts his left hand down to help push himself up and onto his feet. He takes the moment to brush the 'dirt' off from his clothes before he looks up again and stares at the Irishman for a long moment before he chuckles, shaking his head. "Nice. Sure. Not what I heard about you guys from the Bureau. Heard all about how you guys couldn't even measure up enough to be considered a US Agency. Had to go sucking up to the others.. the damned countries who couldn't win a war if their lives depended on it."

His good arm rises to wipe his mouth before it drops again. "How much do you think an apartment in Harlem costs? Like, seriously. Find a place in the neighborhood for SHIELD. Keep the costs down."

*

"Oh, ya heard at the bureau.. right, was that before or after they threw ye out with the other worthless trash?" He has worked with the FBI closely in the past and actually has a great deal of respect for most of them, but not so much for the washout. "Oh congrats ye've won what 2 or 3 wars? Give it a couple more centuries, it'll even out lad."

"How many o' these little places ya got squirreled away? Are there any women stupid enough that we sh'd notify 'em that ye got yerself locked up by what is apparently a second rate agency?"

*

"That was before they lost a few agents," at least 10, according to Bureau records, "Damned idiot agents kept meeting with accidents. Worst drivers in the state." Barney wipes at his nose, albeit gently. "I tried to teach them how to stay on the road, but they wouldn't listen." He shrugs stiffly, testing the shoulder, but there's a wince that is quickly hidden behind a smirk.

"I'm poor, remember? Ain't got none to call my own." Barney turns around and takes a step towards the back of the cell. "If I had a girl, you think I'd give her up to you?" He barks a laugh before he slowly turns about again and nods in gesture towards the coffee cup. "I was promised one of those yesterday. You got a cigarette on you?"

*

"What? No crossbow? I mean if'n yer willing t'kill yer own buddies at the bureau you could at least shoot them, even if it is wit' a relic from the dark ages. Or d'ya have some sob story about why it's perfectly fine that ye murdered yer fellow agents?" He can't quite work soldiers into that question though it's not for lack of trying on Sean's part.

"Oh? Ye want coffee and a smoke? Yea, we'll get right on that lad." Sean avails himself to a drink of his coffee before taking out a cigarette to light it up, thanks for the reminder Barton.

*

Barney chuckles and shakes his head, turning back around to wander those couple of steps in his cell before he sits down again deliberately. One arm rests on his pulled up knees, the other arm remains close to his body. "I never said I killed anyone," is quiet, the smirk remains. "But if you want to make yourselves feel better about getting someone like me off the streets, have fun with that. It'll be a story for your kids and grandkids one day."

The coffee and cigarette is stared at for a long moment before he sighs and looks down again. "How long have you been an Agent?"

*

"We have yer prints on the crossbow, ye jus' told me ye used t'kill the man in Harlem, so yes yes did tell me that ya killed a man. An' if'n ye want to pretend ye didn' kill all those FBI lads, well I'll let you and yer buddies at the bureau sort that out. Especially if ye don't feel like talkin. Our case is closed, but I'm guessin' the bureau might consider theirs still very much open." Sean keeps making notes throughout, that or maybe he's just writing a grocery list for later. Who knows?

"Oh? Ye want t'talk about me? Right, well first off go fuck yerself." It's not an angry rebuke, more of a casual retort.

*

"You ain't got nothin'," Barney chuckles as he slowly gets to his feet again. "And those agents met with really bad accidents. They were dumb, but now, at least the 'Bureau doesn't have to pay out retirement on 'em." He walks towards the front, closest to Sean and the chuckle turns to that wolfish grin. "Your Director isn't stupid. She knows that I'm a hell of a lot more valuable to her than I am dead. Right now, she's probably checking on a lead I gave her about Mr. Howard Stark." He leans against the bars now, keeping a close eye on that coffee and cigarette, "Learn a little in how to be a good agent. You gotta balance your assets." His tones sound a Midwestern twang, his words a light lilt. "Bureau would love to see me dead so I can't give away their dirty little secrets."

*

With a long drag off his cigarette Sean doesn't look worried about what they do or don't have on the case. Sean has heard the rumor that Howard was being dragged into this. A quick note or two goes down and then he half looks up, "Oh? Yer goin' t'tell me how t'be a good agent? Really? Does that involve murdering people in my own department and gettin' caught?"

Sean doesn't add 'by a secretary' as he is well aware that Barney wants to get more information out of this than Sean gets, because duh, that's the game. "What other dirty secrets d'ya feel like spilling? Any more VIPs on yer hit list? Or are ya just going to go back to pickin' off bureau agents?"

*

"Murder is a big word there, Irish." Barney shakes his head and *tsks* softly. "That's something that has to get proved in a court of law. Beyond a reasonable doubt." Of course, he's in no position as the FBI has pretty much declared him dead. To avoid further embarrassment, perhaps, or maybe to allow for Bureau plausible deniability. "But you know what? I might just end up bein' your partner. If you play your cards right, when I'm hired on here by the oh so very grateful Director, I'll be sure to ask for you." There, the smile creeps onto his face again. "You and me."

*

As Sean stands in the hallway smoking and chatting with Barney. He is making a couple notes in his folder as he talks. Taking a sip of his coffee and says "Right, so have they already talked t'ye about gettin' back on yer meds? Sounds like the delusions have come back pretty strongly there lad."

"But jus' f'r fun, yer goin' t'be an agent… here. Because you are such an amazing agent with all of this crazy intel that we are going to be begging you to help us.. what exactly would you be helping us do?" Now Sean is in the humor the crazy person mode, because he can't drink in the office he has to make his own fun.

*

Barney is on his feet, leaning against the wall near the bars. He's looking like he's 'fallen down the stairs' a couple of times, and he's got a definite broken nose. His left arm, he keeps that close to his body, though it is moved. His clothes are unkept, caked with dark brown thanks to dried blood, and all in all? Rough. But there's a gleam in those clear blue eyes, and a smirk is ready. His accent is definitely Midwestern.. the longer vowels and his manner points to it.

"Yeah, about those meds." He'd been caught with nitroglycerin tablets ostensibly for 'Mike Mullins' heart condition. "But in a word? Yeah. I could take down at least one really powerful senator. Maybe bring an Agency down and have some of 'em replaced." And he looks deadly serious, even with that hint of a smile. "What can you do?"

*

"So is that a yes? To the meds?" They are still being tested and Sean hasn't heard back if they are cleared or not.

Making notes again, Sean answers "Oh me? I jus' file reports and drink coffee. Apparently I'm not quite as important as the man we have locked up in cell .. two." He does contemplate giving Barney a terrible case of vertigo, but that's just cruel and unusual. Well, it's a little nicer than 'accidentally' spilling hot coffee all over him as was his original plan.

*

Down the hall the door swings open with barely a sound save for the initial clink-clank of the lock and bar tripping, releasing, then re-engaging. Through it walks that man who had the bow at the take-down of Barney Barton. He's the one who took the shots at Brunnhilde and her boy, and probably would have gotten a shot off at Domino if the situation had allowed. He didn't offer much insight during the initial interrogation, and perhaps was quieter than seemed right… especially for him.

But for now, Hawkeye is walking down that hallway, a set of manila folders under his arm and his brow furrowed. He catches sight of Sean and gives a nod of greeting before he steps up towards the edge of that cell. He pauses there, one of the folders opening for him to peruse the contents. A page turns, he frowns. But for now he doesn't announce himself nor his business. Might just be there to get an eyeball on the perp.

*

Barney chuckles and looks up at the new information. Cell Two, assuming Irish isn't lying. It's not something one has to lie about, all things considered. "Yeah, probably not. One day, you'll be a good agent. Maybe."

The blond archer, the one that took him out approaches, and blue eyes flicker down the hall as he approaches. "Heya, caveman. You're a pretty good shot with that thing. Loaded for fucking bear." Barney grins a little lopsidedly, but the expression isn't anything even near amused. "Seriously, though.. why a bow?"

*

Looking up as another agent enters the hallway. He isn't sure of Clint's name but Barney seems well aware of who he is, so he just stays quiet. Though he does rejoinder to Barney "Well apparently in yer head I'll have you to show me the ropes someday Captain Crossbow."

*

An eyebrow is quirked at Barney as Clint sort of looks at him like one would eyeball some guy at the grocery store wanting to cut in front at the ten items or less line. Then he looks away almost just as dismissively. He extends a hand towards Sean, offering it as a greeting. Once that's squared away Hawkeye produces his ID and offers it to Sean as well, "Heya. Got a few questions for the guy."

And if there's no objection, Clint turns back to look at Barney levelly as if this guy was just some kid brought in for vandalism. "Nice accent you got. You play it up."

*

"Only if you're lucky." Barney looks at Sean levelly before he barks a laugh. "Nah.. I'll ask for you specfically, Irish. Just like I said." He lifts his right hand and forms a gun with his fingers, and 'pulls the trigger' in that the 'hammer' that is his thumb goes down. "Bang."

Barney watches the interaction and he leans against the wall, slowly bringing his left arm up, to support it with his right. Brows rise when he's addressed, and he eyeballs the other man, sizing him up as if he could even consider 'taking him' from where he is now. Inside a 10 by 10 cell.

"Nah.. s'me. Unless you wanna talk French," and it's a smooth transition into the language where he continues, in French. «Worked hard to break that accent.» And finally, back to English, with a single-shouldered shrug. "I think it's all part of my charm."

*

Glancing down at the ID and shaking the man's hand, Sean grunts an assent. "Go for it." He notices the lack of names and so he leaves all introductions out. He asks of Clint "Can I get ye a cup of coffee? Maybe a smoke?" Yea there is just a slight twinkle in his eye as he avoids looking directly at Barney.

At the finger guns, Sean makes a mental note to go back to his original plan of giving him the worst case of vertigo that he has ever had.

*

"Yeah, that'd be great. Cream no sugar." Clint says as he gives a nod to Sean, though it's clear he's listening to Barney's words and response. Once the other agent starts to fulfill that offer, Hawkeye turns back to look Barney up and down. There's something in the man's eyes, something distant and a bit empty as if he were looking at something on a menu and it just wasn't meeting his expectations.

The folder closes a bit and he gives a nod. "You got a long story. Goes back ages. Penchant for special ops, weaponry. No connections to you or yours. Parentals absent." He lifts his chin, "You tell me why I used a bow in the take down. What advantages did it offer?"

*

"And one black. Like my heart, if rumors are to be believed." There, Barney's order is in as well. "Yeah.. he'd like a smoke, too."

Now, Barney looks back at Clint and there is that appraising eye. "Yeah. Loner. The way I like it." His words are slow and drawn out. "'S'for the silent takedown. Knife is silent too, but closer. Bow for the distance. Keep your subject far away so he never sees you, and there are no witnesses to when or from which direction it comes." There's a smirk at the end of all that as he looks to 'Irish' and back to the archer. "Did you mean to catch the girl? She doesn't have anything to do with this." Maybe he's not so much of a loner? "She's just someone who is under some illusion that I'm one of the good guys."

*

Happy to stick to his self prescribed duties of filing paperwork and getting coffee Sean, heads off to find a cup for Clint, pointedly ignoring Barney's request. He takes the time to quickly drop off his notes and rearrange a few things before heading back.

Handing the coffee to Clint "New pot.. cream, no sugar." Adding in his own smartass answer to the question "Fulfilling Errol Flynn boyhood hero worship dreams? Hoping cute girls around have a Robin Hood an' Maid Marien fantasy they're dyin' t'play out?" Seriously Sean has been wondering why the hell people have suddenly reverted to medeival weaponry.

"Really? One of the good guys? Is that because of a desire t'be one? Or did ye jus' prefer yer women dumb? It's probably easier tha' way. Too bad about her." Yea, second time he's mentioned her getting hit, so let's throw some ambiguity into what tense we talk about her in.

*

A glance is given to the coffee and then Clint takes a drink, taking his time and letting the words between the two men intermingle and for the first few reactions to grow out of it. But then he steps to the side with furrowed brow and gives a nod towards Sean as if agreeing with the unfortunate aspects of the hit she took.

"She was the motive element." That's an explanation he offers, probably not a sufficient one, and distinctly past tense. But he looks back towards Barney. "Eventually you would figure that as a person in this life you bring risk to those people around you. Why you probably cut ties loose early on."

*

ROLL: Barney +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 4

*

'Was'

There's a dark shadow that crosses Barney's face, and as Sean moves, of course he's not anywhere near where Barney could get a hand on him through the bars, but it doesn't stop the man from trying anyway. With his left, injured hand. He pushes himself right against the bars in a sudden grab, slamming himself against it so hard it actually rattles, "If she's dead, so help me god, you are gonna be my first when I get outta here…"

He looks at Clint next, and his expression is filled with anger… no, rage. "She had nothing to do with this.. with me." Barney slams against the bars again, though this time with his right hand, over and over.. "Everyone 'round me is dead. Dead. DEAD."

*

Almost distractedly so, Sean slowly pulls his coffee cup back from the bars and says "Sorry, this is my cup." As if that is why Barney is reaching through the bars all crazy like.

"Lad, ye either want t'join us or ye want t'kill us. Ye've already done both to the FBI, but we work a little differently, not being all bloody crazy ass Yanks we tend to frown on that. So make up yer mind? Are ye me future partner? Or me future killer? I'm afraid I'm gettin' confused." He doesn't raise his voice or move away from the cage at all.

Sean glances to Clint and says "Funny how they all like t'make threats at this point. Yea, let's see it's first, I'm goin' to walk free, then it's I'm goin to kill you.. what comes next again?"

*

A small chuff of a sound comes from Clint, not quite a laugh more an exhalation or a harumph, though it bespeaks a measure of introspection. He glances sidelong towards Sean and gives a nod as if affirming the man's thoughts, especially about that part with the whole join'em or kill'em approach that perps seem to take.

"She didn't have as much of a rap sheet as you do. If she wasn't involved in any of this then you could help her family by giving us what you have so we can track down what we can." He takes another sip of coffee and then sets it down nearby alongside the manila folders. "We've already got most of what we need with you. You do fit a type. But she was the puzzler."

*

Barney pulls his injured arm in slowly, the adrenaline slacking a little and leaving his complexion a little paler for the pain of motion. He slams at the bars again with his right hand before he moves away. Hilde's his weakness, and he never thought for a million years it would happen like that, but.. and he steels his expresion, blue eyes turning ice cold. "I told you. She had nothing to do with me." He refuses to think of her in the past tense, and continues, then, in present. "That's why you can't figure her out. There's nothing to her." Once he's on the other side of the small cell, he rests his back against the wall and slides down, staring at the pair now, though his gaze moves to linger on Sean. There's a coldness there, and it's as if he's studying every little bit of the man. Every tic, every nuance, right down to the way the man walks.

*

Sean is very casual, he plays like he's just having a little chat. It took him a while to dial in to it, but he's now in a good zone. "Nothing t'do wit' ye? Really? Ye seem pretty invested in her health. I mean.. ye were jus' tellin' me how ye had this all under control and how ye didn' care about who was gettin killed an yet now?" He leaves that question unanswered.

"Well I've had my fill of crazy for the day." He slides a note onto Clint's board and says "Come find me later, I owe ye a beer." The note simply says Why should I ask you about hunting? His words.

*

As Sean leaves Clint sort of looks after the man for a time. A small nod is given though perhaps not enough of a one to be noticed. He then pushes himself to the side, leaning down to reclaim the coffee as well as the folder he'd set aside. For a moment he looks into the cell and then looks at Barney. "For what it's worth, she probably didn't deserve it. But guys like us, we take the shade with the shine."

As he says that he steps away and starts to move back towards the door that Sean just passed through, adjusting the folder and then tucking it under his arm as he takes another long drink of coffee.

*

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