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Another day another mission. Steve has been doing a lot of local stuff now that things have started to calm down. Helping every day people is something he wasn't able to do during the war, and now that it's a popular thing in New York, he's taken his shot at it. And you know what? He likes it. And he's good at it. And for the first time in a long time he's smiling.
The rumble of his motorcycle comes to a stop and he re-slings his shield over his back. There's a little skip in Cap's step as makes his way to the front of the mansion. You kind of have to walk around the corner a bit to get from the car park and so it brings him right to the front of the building, right where Bobbi Morse is standing.
Seeing her is kind of a shock to him. He always thought she was pretty, you'd be a fool not to of course. But he was able to have a beer with her the other night and he had decided that, given the opportunity, he was going to ask her out. He'd spent enough time on the sidelines after Jack left him. It was the right time to try and get back out there. He finally had the confidence to put himself out on a line.
As he sees her, he smiles and pulls his helmet off. "Hey, Bobbi. Glad I caught you. Listen, I was thinking that I had a lot of fun having some beers with you and was thinking that maybe if you were interested you might be, uh, interested in maybe going out to grab a beer ag…" He pauses, looking around, suddenly getting that she is out here sort of just standing…which is weird. He twists at his hip and looks around, "Just waiting out here?"
'Calm down,' a description of events that applies to Scarlett's life precisely never. Especially not today or any day ending in -y in English. Her current reason for being at the mansion has something to do with transcontinental travel and a secure location for a box containing… don't ask what it contains. She carries an honest-to-goodness steamer trunk locked in several places, at least six stickers attached to the sides. Heavy and rattling of contents, they may well be unhatched dragon eggs for all their contents hum and rattle. Stranger sights can be seen all the time in New York. They simply tend not to be seen with girls in minidresses possibly made of paper.
It's a Sixties thing. Don't ask about the popularity of paper dresses, using irons on hair, and platform shoes with actual goldfish in them.
15 MINUTES AGO:
"No, I will not take it!" - Kwabena
"You will take it!" - voice on radio.
"I will not!" - Kwabena
"Do not spaz on me, Odame! You will take the fare! Now put out your fucking joint and get moving!" - voice on radio
"Fine!" Kwabena hung up the receiver and scowled at the farebox, before picking it up again. "Asshole!" That time it wasn't transmitting.
NOW:
A 1961 Checker Marathon, complete with the 'AAA Taxi' logo painted on each side, rolls up to Avengers Mansion. The driver is wearing sunglasses, in spite of the fact that dusk casts harsh shadows across New York, rays blocked by the countless tall buildings.
Briefly, Kwabena pulls the shades down just long enough to peek at what he sees. A glimpse of clearly non-human silver eyes, likely unnoticed, as he observes those waiting outside. The shades are quickly set back into place, and an oath uttered with vitriol under his breath. "Jeeeeesus Christ."
The taxi pulls up to the gate, turn signal activated, and the driver honks his horn twice in rapid succession. New York Cabbiespeak for, 'hello, unlock the damn gate, bozo, your cab is here!!'.
Susie, in her Ultragirl outfit, is up on the roof. She was sitting cross-legged in a bit of shade cast by the stairwell access and… meditating? In any case, the sound of the motorcycle breaks her concentration and she gets to her feet to walk over and look down. Then her eyes widen in surprise. "Ohmygosh! It's -him-!", she says, to herself, and hops up and down in a little circle, her hands in fists up by her chin, just barely not making a squealing sound. She's heard of Captain America… but she hasn't met him, yet. It's a total 'fangirl' moment…
Then Susie stops herself from her fangirling, eyes wide again as she realizes she has a chance to actually -meet- him. Turning, she steps off the roof and floats down towards the front steps of the mansion, aiming to land a bit away from Cap and Bobbi; she's trying to not just completely drop in unannounced, even if that is what she's doing. "Hiya, y'all!", she says.
Bobbi stood in a pair of jean shorts and a red tank top. A bag slung over her shoulder and her hair flowing freely about her face. A pair of sunglasses perched on her nose as she stood waiting for the taxi cab that should be arriving shortly. She hated taxis. Golden eyebrows climbed upwards at Steve's approach and she flashed him an easy grin, her hand on her hip with a hello offered.
Of course, then came the awkward attempt at asking her out for a beer and.. Oh dear god the man was like a puppy. Her heart melted and she couldn't help the look of sympathy that flashed across her features. It was diffcult not to feel that when he trailed off and awkwardly noted her standing there. What a boy scout.
"Yeah, waiting on a taxi." She had a motorcycle. But it was assuredly not built for two.
"Uhm.. beers sound great Rogers.. but uh—" The rest broke off as suddenly there was quite a crowd.
Why does it matter that Bobbi's motorcycle wasn't built for two? Question. Answered. The front door to the mansion opens up just behind Steve, Bobbi and Susie, and across the threshold comes the one guy in this sudden gathering who has zero clearance.
Clint Barton, back in town from God only knows where, slides on a pair of sunglasses as he steps out into the sun and immediately hesitates at the number of people on the front stoop. "Whoa. I missed the RSVP to this party." Smooth and easy, Clint slides outside, jutting his chin upward to Steve, then a nod to each lady. "Ladies." With a loose-limbed stride, Clint draws somewhere sort of adjacent to Mockingbird, though he doesn't stick too close. "They said they got a guy nearby." Head whipping up toward the honk at the gate. "Uh. Gate?"
A crowd gathered around the Avengers Mansion off 5th Avenue is not particularly surprising. There will always be heavy traffic between 5th and Park, the lifeblood arteries of the Upper West Side. Scarlett transfers the steamer chest in her arms more upon her hip, tucked under the bend of her lithe arm. It should be noted however awkward the box is, maneuvering around the pedestrian traffic, piles of debris, taxi cabs, and other detritus cast up on posh shores comes naturally to her. Someone descending from on high off the roof brings a brief glance of those intense, surreal green eyes upon Susie; nonetheless, marking no immediate threat there, the bohemienne gives a smile. "Party, was it? Thrilling."
Captain Marvel was flying overhead, finishing up an afternoon patrol. Spotting Cap and the others in the front though, she flies down to the entryway and lands there instead of taking her normal landing spot in the back yard. She then grins at Cap and Bobbi, "Hey guys, how's it going." She pauses and looks around, "I… ah, did I miss a team meeting?" She tilts her head, then nods over towards Rogue as well, giving the redhead a grin.
And then there's Tony. After being gone for weeks, no calls, no attempts at contact, he just pulls up in one of his sleek red cars, dressed in a casual suit that probably cost more than most people make in three months. With his shades on, it's hard to tell what or who he's looking at. "Hey there. Is there a meeting? Did I miss the memo?"
It looks as if she's going to accept and Steve can barely hold back a smile. But things go ass up from there. Susie takes him by surprise just as Bobbi says 'but'. What does 'but' mean? And before he can get a full answer from Morse, people begin showing up out of the blue. It's almost like a frat party when the beer shows up. Or the girls do. Everyone comes out running.
"Hi," Steve says with a nod towards Susie as he turns to face her. His blue eyes go awkwardly back towards Bobbi, inwardly hoping she finishes her sentence, but then the cabbie shows up and there's Carol and Scarlett and whoever I just forgot as I'm writing and wait a second. "Oh, you know Clint Barton?" Wait. Somewhere the hamster in Steve's brain begins to slowly put two and two together. It dawns on him.
Oh no.
And, in front of Tony?
Behind the wheel of his cab, Kwabena begins growing agitated. His better judgement (what little there is) keeps him from laying on the horn, at least for a few minutes (read: 36.8 seconds in cabbie time).
With a scowl on his face, Kwabena eyes the radio again. "I know what this is," he murmurs in his native tongue (there are subtitles of course). "Payback for wrecking your cab. It was a shitty cab anyway. (the 'shitty' part is clearly in English)."
The sight of a woman in costume dropping down from the mansion's rooftop has the cabbie sighing once more. Wait, there's another woman in costume, dropping down from the sky. "Remind me again why they called a fucking cab (again, with subtitles, and yes, the 'fucking' is clearly in English)?"
Finally, the impatience gets the best of him, especially when a vehicle MUCH nicer and MUCH more expensive than his Checker shows up. He didn't drive out here just to lose his fare! A black-skinned hand then comes down on the horn.
*BEEEEEEEEEEP BEEP BEEP!*
(Cabbiespeak for, 'open the fucking gate!')
First Captain America, himself. Now Iron Man, aka Tony Stark!
This time, Susie can't control it, she balls her fists up and hops in a little circle doing the whole fangirl squeal thing. Then she realizes she's not managed to internalize it and blushes VERY red, her eyes wide… as she steps over to next to, then behind, Carol.
Bobbi sighs. Heavily, and reaches up to pinch of the bridge of her nose as chaos erupts all around her. Can she not stand outside waiting for a taxi so she can get out for a day? Obviously, not. As Clint shows up, and horns rage, she grinds the back of her teeth together. "Yeah I know Clint," She muttered, shooting the archery a look that clearly said you handle it. As she grumbles and goes to deal with the taxi cab.
"Hey, you'll get your fare! Stop blasting the horn for five damn minutes will you?!" Her shout followed and she went to the gate to open it for the guy.
Clint is busy watching Susie fail at self control around the living legend, oh, and Tony as she squeals and spins in a hopping circle. A languid twist of his attention back toward Steve, the archer leans in and extends a hand out, "Rogers, good to see ya." If Steve will shake his hand, it's firm but none of that machismo arms wrestling bullshit. Clint's not going to go up against that beast at this moment. Canting his head slightly toward Bobbi when she admits to knowing him. "SHIELD." simplest explanation possible. Hey, it's not a lie, Bobbi. You want him to handle it? There you go. "Ran into Bob and Carol over at the bar the other day and one of them mentioned some fun with pest control around the city." He jerks his head to the side, outward. "We were just going to have some fun. Hunt down some trouble." The archer's broad shoulders roll with a restless sense to them.
"Colonel," Clint grins slowly over to Carol, pale colored eyes appear over the rims of his sunglasses, flicking over in Susie's direction and hopping back to Carol. "That one okay?"
"This is why I prefer to drive myself," Scarlett asides to the two nearest her; Carol and Susie, lurking behind the good blonde captain. "Granted I have started to wonder whether we ought to invest in some kind of plane, for those inopportune moments we require quick transportation. Or possibly a floating longboat. Have you any opinions about that, and if we can convince him to do it?" Subtle stress made settles upon the red convertible driven by the equally red man. "Yes, you missed the message! You need to build us a flying boat suitable for long-distance trips. We brought along the cab driver to determine the expediency of your plans based on a ground-level understanding of traffic."
This is why she is the diplomat multidimensionally, people. Because her solutions invariably work or make work, and keep things from exploding. Really. At Steve's back, she ends putting down the steamer chest and promptly places herself ever so subtly. Just in case he faints. That can't hurt.
Carol grins back towards Susie, "It's alright, come on and relax. Believe me, there's nothing there to write home about." Her eyes flicker briefly over Tony, but she doesn't register him long enough save for that comment, then glances back to Clint, "Yeah, she'll be fine, been teaching her a bit."
She blinks, and looks over at Scarlett, "Actually, a plane to carry us around isn't a bad idea. Not all of us can fly, after all… actually, few of us can." Her lips quirk a bit, as she gives Susie another look, making sure the girl really IS okay.
"Oh, I didn't know you and Carol and Bobbi all knew each other," Steve says as he tilts his head towards Clint. "Small world, I guess." He doesn't notice Scarlett behind him at the ready. In fact, he's not even really sure what's going on, other than there's a pit in his stomach he's not quite fond of. She never actually finished what she was going to say and then just walked off.
In an instant he's in Brooklyn and 16 again. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Tony can't help but notice fangirling. It's the source of his power, the kind not governed by the suit and certainly not used heroically. He tips down his sunglasses to give Susie a wink, but the moment he does, it registers that it's Carol she's ducked behind. No wink, and he pushes those glasses right back up. Still, he flashes Susie (or maybe Carol or both) a dazzler of a smile. Without missing a beat, he snap-guns Scarlett one-handed and tells her, "I'll get right on that." Is he serious?? Hard to tell. But then, glancing between Bobbi and Steve, he exhales sharply and murmurs, "Woof."
15 MINUTES AGO:
"You on your way to that Avengers Mansion, Odame?" - voice on radio.
"Yes." *click* "Shithead." - Kwabena
"Don't forget to put a damn shirt on!" - voice on radio.
"Yes, yes! *click* Asshole." - Kwabena
"And don't forget the new AAA policy! Courtesy breeds currency!" - voice on radio
"Yes, yes, I know! *pause* Asshole!" - Kwabena
"I heard that!!!" - voice on radio
NOW:
"I've been sitting here for five -" Kwabena begins shouting back out the window toward Bobbi, but he shuts up as she goes over to open the gate. Courtesy breeds currency.
Once the gate is open, the cab pulls up behind Stark's car, but only for a moment. It suddenly jinks left, drives around the red fancymobile, and sweeps back in front of it to park.
He did have the good sense to put a shirt on over his tank top. A nice, collared affair he picked up from some street vendor. The brown pants are unimpressive, as are the shoes. One might question if he goes through clothes too often, so he ends up buying the cheapest crap he can find.
Remembering his boss's stupid new slogan, he steps out of the cab and moves over toward the sidewalk. "Okay, okay," he speaks in heavily accented English. "Who called for taxi?" A toothy grin shows up. "Is not clown car, but I can cram."
Alright, so it's more of a grimace than a grin.
Susie looks around past Carol at Tony, then at Steve. Her awareness of her fangirling, it seems, made her more aware of the tension that's happening. Stepping up to stand next to, instead of behind Carol, she puts her hands on her hips and… remains silent, though her eyebrows furrow a little bit. Catching Carol's glance at her, she just nods a little, and does her best to try and remember the conentration/focus training and drills she's been getting, lately… and actively works on getting and staying calm.
"My horse!" shouts a passing pedestrian, waving a hand at the cabdriver. Kwabena isn't standing around with a car displaying an occupied or busy sign. He's open game. "Come on, he'll totally fit in the backseat. His hooves are tired. Deal?"
Bobbi rolled her eyes as the cabbie pulled in through the gates and she marched back toward the crowd of chaos. "Sorry, Rogers, you were saying something about catchin' a beer?" Before all and sundry showed up of course, and she'd been forced to deal with a cabbie. Her gaze drifted toward Clint and she nodded toward said taxi.
"If you wanna come Rogers you're welcome to, I hate cabs, but it beats the subway and honestly, I can't fit multiple people on my motorcycle. Also, unlike some, I can't fly." She offered dryly, hooking her fingers through the belt loops of her shorts.
"You know how it is, you run into people on the job. Getting smaller every day with everything going on," Clint agrees casually to Steve, hands in his pockets, elbows cocked out to the side with a loose demeanor, entirely at ease and owning the small square of property that he stands on for the moment. He hears 'plane' and attention perks up curiously toward Scarlett, tipping his head to look around towards Tony. The mirrored finish on his sunglasses reflects the world back upside down while he considers. "You guys decide you need a pilot, call me." A cocky smirk touches a corner of his mouth. "Anything that guy can dream up," jutting his chin out in Tony's direction. "I can fly." Complete and ridiculous confidence. Gauntlet thrown.
The cabbie comes around and gets out? He gets out. Okay, sure, why not. Clint pulls a hand out of his pocket, cocking his hand by the wrist to Kwabena. "Over here, m'man." He eyes the collared shirt and leans in to mention to Bobbi, "Since when do cabbies dress up? I feel like I'm going to church, Jesus." Meandering toward the back door to yank it open, Clint poses beside it and seconds Bobbi's offer. "More the merrier."
"Fabulous, with any luck we can find something capable of vertical takeoffs and landings without enough backdraft to flatten a village," Scarlett chimes in, her contributions spun on a bright, lyrical note. Blithe amusement colours her words. A nod given to Clint acknowledges his assurance. "Once he commences with crash testing, you can start offering co-pilot lessons? I'd be interested." Her smile registers more than a few magnitudes brighter yet. "Might as well know how to manage things when we're falling out of the sky and some of our lovely associates lack their own antigravity. I do like your enthusiasm, Carol. Do we put it to a vote?"
Carol gives Clint a wry expression, "Pretty hot talk there, for a wannabe flyboy." She smirks, "Sometime we'll have to get some planes, and I'll show you why my callsign was 'Warbird'."
With that, she looks over at Scarlett at her comment, arching a brow as she says, "What, you'd trust him over someone that was actually in the Air Force?" She grins a bit, then looks over at Susie, "Sounds like everyone is going out, want to come along?"
"Yeah, I mean," Steve says down towards Bobbi. "I mean, I was thinking it would just be the two of us. Plus…" He motions towards his outfit, "I'm not really dressed for going out." He looks to Clint and gives an upwards nod, "Is that what you're wearing?"
Tony gives Clint an upnod in return. "I'll see what I can do about getting you in a cockpit." He goes quiet, then, though his lips move as he murmurs to himself, thinking almost-aloud about how to compensate for backdraft and cursing himself quietly for not bringing something to write on or with. Another glance between Steve and Bobbi, and he shakes it off. Engineering later. Trainwreck in progress now.
Since when? Since when do cabbies dress up? Since fat, overpaid Italian half-breeds eat too many hoagies and decide they need to up their cabbie game, that's when.
Kwabena raises his hand to the fellow beyond the gate who is ranting and raving about a horse, and flips him a mean bird. Right in front of half the Avengers.
Without missing a beat, Kwabena walks over toward Clint, then makes to open the door, but Clint gets there first. There comes another grimace, and the clear indication that aforementioned Italian half breed is going to get chewed out later.
"Three in back, one in front," he declares. "No more. Is break of taxi rules. But! I can call anodah cab, undahstand?"
"Uhm… I'm not going out dressed like this", Susie says, being as she's wearing her Ultragirl outfit, complete with its harlequin mask — and changing to civvies and going along at this point would -totally- wreck her whole secret identity thing.
Bobbi was making to follow toward the taxi, Clint getting a look. "You flying? Dear god, spare me. I've seen you drive." She muttered and shook her head. Blue eyed gaze settling back to Steve Rogers. Her expression goes from vaguely irritated at all the chaos going on around her, to a sudden stillness. Her lips forming a small 'o' as she finally picks up what Steve was really asking after her.
"Shit." She dragged her hands over her features, a grimace pulling at her features and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Steve.." She starts with the first name, "Why don't you just c'mon along anyways?" She was trying to keep it private. Trying.
Clint lifts his chin slowly as Carol shoots a challenge back, a creeping smile drawing over his expression, a touch on the wild side and all in good fun. "You can't substitute rank for pure talent, Colonel. She knows how to spot it." Pressing his sunglasses down his nose, Clint winks at Scarlett and shoot a smile at Tony.
The whole matter of Steve stumbling through asking Bobbi for a date pulls his attention in that direction for a moment before he comes into a race to the door with the cabbie. "I got it, man, don't worry about it. Hey, you're not afraid of spiders, are you?" A glance toward Bobbi while she questioned his driving skills. "Hey, we weren't in the pile up, /that/ was all skill. Like you could've done better?" Shifting his attention over toward Steve while tensions and unspoken things all pile up. The archer shrugs over his clothes, without even checking himself out. "Yeah? What, why?"
The redheaded bohemienne needs no excuse for a good time. "Let me put away the trunk," Scarlett nods to the burden she carried thus far. "We can talk about training at some point. I would turn down lessons from no one here. Then let me compare the two and determine the best. I've got some measure of what constitutes good flight skills." Turning fast on a dime is a talent!
Carol is many things. Clueless, not so much. She didn't catch what Steve was saying to Bobbi so much… but she sees what Bobbi is trying to say to Steve, and lightly elbows Susie, "Come on, let's go in the mansion and get changed, we can catch up to them later." She smiles wryly, tossing Bobbi a wink as she guides Ultragirl into the mansion proper.
"No reason," Steve says soberly to Clint. At the awkward silence between them, Steve merely shrugs. He then looks to Kwabena, "I know you've been waiting a while, but are you willing to wait a few more minutes? I've got to get changed." He heads quietly into the door and heads for his room, thinking he should probably shower. That foreign fellow will wait, right?
The moment that Steve starts to head inside, there is a sudden flurry of motion right at the door. Its Maximus, who was apparently peeeering out the window and eyeballing the whole situation going on outside like a total eavesdropper. He backs up and then leans against the wall with one hand, almost immediately /posing/ to look cool and casual, like he was just having a relaxing moment in that exact pose against the wall.
Tony purses his lips, his only nod to the sympathetic grimace he holds back on Steve's behalf. "All right, so meeting later, then," he says. He takes out a business card, offering it to Rogue as he says, "Let's be in touch. I'll see what I can do about your plane. Helicopter. Heli-something. We'll get there." Clint gets a snapgun at the smile. Hey there, how's it going. Though he's making to leave before this gets any more awkward the flutter at the window causes him to pause long enough to glance that way.
"Yes, yes," Kwabena answers with clear annoyance. "Is boss's idea. To be courteous." The Ghanaian snorts and walks right back around to the driver's side door. "Stupid idea. Is New York, yes? No time for bullshit!"
He stands there at the door for a moment, sunglasses still covering his eyes, though they dart from person to person to person, each one in turn.
Quietly, he mutters to himself in his native language, before looking Steve's way. "Alright, fine." Then, he pops the door and leans in, activating the fare meter by pulling up the device. If he's gonna wait around for Steve Rogers to change out of his star spangled pajamas, he's gonna get paid for it.
That finished, the cabbie draws out a pack of smokes and lights up with an old zippo that looks as if it went through both Wars.
Ultragirl gets led into the mansion, without complaint on her part, by Carol. She does turn and look over her shoulder at Steve. Young she might be, but she at least caught on to some of what was going on, and it's obvious he's upset by what happened. "Maybe I shouldn't go at all, Carol", she says. "Maybe it wouldn't be… right, at this point?"
Bobbi, for her part glanced back toward Clint as soon as Steve started for the mansion. "I could too have done better and you know it. Remember Malta?" She shot back, hooking a brow upwards. Still, she slid into the back of the taxi, crossing her arms as she waited. Her blue eyes swinging back toward Clint.
"You know, this would be so much easier if you'd been around more." She muttered, her lips pursed together as she sagged back in her seat. Her hands lifting to massage her temples. She groaned. "I blame you, Clint."
Crowds slowly start to disburse, and Clint is left holding the cab door open with a knowing smirk levied to Kwabena. "No time for bullshit. You're cool, man." And he doesn't dare say a word when the cabbie turns his fare meter on. Hey, Steve can pony up some dough if he wants to go suit up. Clint peers into the cab, arms braced on the door and on the roof as he ducks his head in. "Because you had no idea what you were getting into?" Catching one eyebrow up over the other while he comments, dryly. "Oh yeah, I've heard that one before." He points out and shrugs casually as he pushes away from the cab and strolls back toward the doors of the mansion. Clint was an idiot, but he wasn't stupid. A bow and quiver stuck just inside the door, he eyeballs Maximus as he snags his gear with a hand. "Uh. Hey…" And slips back out toward the cab.
"Superb. We have a direction to follow." Scarlett dips then to pick up her steamer chest, its weight scarcely an issue for her. Though the dimensions require caution to move among the others, given the crowd around the entrance between the cabbie, the people planning to go party, and those who have a job to do. Smoking betokens a raise to her eyebrows, little better.
"Shine on, you diamonds."
Carol chuckles at Ultragirl, "Nah, I'm pretty sure it's fine if we go. I just figured the crowd was getting a little crazy out there." She then glows brightly for a moment, her clothing changed to something a little more appropriate for bar hopping or watching Steve crash and burn with one of her good friends, "Get changed and then we can catch up to them. Assuming they go at some point…"
"Max," Steve says as they come face to face. The blond steps one way, then another, then another to finally get by Maximus, grinning as he does so. It takes a few minutes but eventually he reappears wearing a t-shirt that's probably a size too small and a pair of jeans. He heads for the cab, "Who is all coming with us?"
So, he's had no luck at all catching up with Steve. Buck doesn't exactly keep bankers' hours at Lux. But he's got a night off, and he steps up just in time to see the mass exodus from the Mansion. It leaves him looking a little owlish and uncertain. Steve he knows….the rest of this crowd….well, there are some familiar faces. Some of them from his stint in SHIELD's cells….
Maximus totally stays frozen while Steve changes…aggressively not thinking about Steve changing. When he notices Tony, though, he gets into motion and strikes forwards to get in the Stark's eyeline. "You…going out with the Avengers?" he asks all casual-like.
Tony's brows lift as Maximus addresses him. "I don't know that I'm invited," he says with a wry smile. "I came by to see how things were going with the house. What you still needed. This…" He waves around at the others, "was already going on when I got here." With a glance toward Carol, brief as it is, he says, "Thinking I ought to stick to business."
"I also take tips, too," Kwabena fires back Clint's way, before ashing the square and sending a plume of white smoke from his nostrils. Scarlett's departing words suddenly make him feel a bit less uncomfortable, being a closeted mutant hanging out in front of Avenger's Mansion. Why? A chance for casual flirting.
"Hey, you too, Red." And a wink.
A flash of light draws his attention toward Carol, and her sudden transformation. To this, he stares blankly for a moment, while one eyebrow shoots upward. "Fucking hell," he murmurs, before drawing another drag from his cigarette. Unfortunately, as it were, this has him completely missing Bucky's arrival; the one fellow here with whom he has had an encounter.
Ultragirl says, "I don't have any clothes here….", but her voice trails off when Carol does her quick-change thing. "Whoa!", she says, eyes wide. "Can you teach me -that-?", she wonders, a bit awestruck.
Bobbi grimaced at Clint's comment and as he left she grew bored, not to mention hot while sitting in the taxi waiting. So she was already climbing back out of the waiting taxi when Bucky came up toward the mansion, facing away from the building behind her and toward the still open gate. After all the taxi cab needed to get back out. She spotted Bucky, and froze.
Then without so much as a shout, was taking off, running from the cab and down the drive way toward the road.
"Don't take wooden nickles, how's that one?" Clint mentions back to Kwabena without missing a beat and goes to snag his gear. Coming back to the cab, Clint is already talking as he nears the back seat where he left Bobbi, "So where do you think we'll have the best luck? I'm thinking—Bob?" Ducking his head down into the back seat, Clint blinks at the open door opposite him and stands up again, looking over the hood of the cab. Squinting down the drive in the direction Bobbi is booking it. Barton bristles when he recognizes Barnes and whispers exhaustedly, "Aw, hell…" It's not like every agent in the biz doesn't know that face.
Clint slings his quiver around his shoulder and jumps up on the trunk of Kwabena's car, dropping to a knee with a buckle of the metal. Knocking an arrow, Barton's lazy posture suddenly straightens and pulls taut, taking aim.
Carol comes out of the mansion, looking back at Susie, "Well, I…" She blinks, then sees Bobbi charging off, Clint right behind…
And then she sees who they're charging for, and she goes a bit pale, "I… I really did think he was dead. I saw him in Niflheim!" And with that, she's off like a rocket, civilian clothing or not as she looks to just pick up Bucky and figure out what the Hel is going on?!?
As Steve watches Barnes approach, the normal shock accompanies it. "Buck." But, then Clint is climbing up the car and going for his arrows, something that Steve just can't simply sit by and watch. Before he can take a shot, Steve yells out, "Barnes!" and tries to push the back of his knee, hopefully forcing him not to shoot.
So, this isn't good. But Bucky doesn't do anything to either flee or fight. He just lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender….and if Carol nabs him, he doesn't resist her either. "…..is this a bad time?" he asks, a little blankly, gaze fixed on Steve. He's dressed in jeans, long-sleeved blue workshirt, a black glove over his metal hand. His hair's tied back in a ponytail.
Maximus widens his eyes at the drama and considers if he should get involved. He has no particular preference, so…he just stands poised to attempt to stop people from violent actions that might be fatal. "I hope you come back from wherever you are with a more open schedule. I have so much to show you. YOu wanted to be impressed with tech…you /will be/." he claims, arrogantly.
Tony watches people take off after Bucky. Once he sees the guy's face, he tips his shades down for a closer look. There's recognition there and a brow quirked in an unasked question. Still now isn' the time to get involved, so instead, he makes his way toward Maximus, taking out a business card to give him. "Sure, let's get together sometime and talk shop. Sometime when it's maybe a little less like all hell breaking loose."
In a casual manner, Kwabena turns back toward Clint, cigarette perching crookedly from the corner of his mouth. "What is dis, wooden nickel?" he asks. Clearly, the joke is lost on him. "I don't think dat dis is -"
When Clint takes to the trunk of his cab, and dents it, well. That about does it. Kwabena throws the cigarette to the ground and spins about, throwing a threatening hand in a gesture up toward Clint. "Hey! No, no no! You get down from cab! Look at dis, you ah putting dent in…"
Just then, he turns to see just what Clint is taking aim at. Behind the shades, he squints his eyes. "What de fuck is all of dis?!"
A cracking sound comes from where the cabbie stands. Fortunately, he's wearing long sleeves in the summertime, like some kind of dingus, so he shoves his hands into his pockets and makes a valiant effort to calm the hell down.
Ultragirl turns to see what all the fuss is about, and suddenly Carol's flying out towards the man she met the other day… and Clint's aiming arrows at him, too! This prompts Ultragirl to fly out after Carol, putting herself as much in the way as she possibly can of anyone trying to shoot him. She's nowhere near as fast as the older woman is, but she's doing what she can do to help. "Why does everyone try to hurt this guy?", she calls out ahead of herself, to Carol.
Bobbi slows to a halt as Bucky puts his hands up, she hadn't pulled any weapons, but knowing the Shield agent, that really didn't mean much. And of course, then Carol came by and just had to snatch him up into the before her. She cursed, swinging around on her heels as she glowered up at the powered woman flying above her. Her gaze swung toward Susie and she bit back a groan, marching back toward the gates again.
"Well, that would happen to be Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier and wanted man by oh, most of international and domestic agencies." She stalked back toward the cab, pursing her lips as she eyed Clint and Steve, pinching the bridge of her nose as she came over.
Clint's knee doesn't buckle entirely, but Steve's push sets him off just enough that his aim sways and he looks down at the blond 'with the pretty big blue eyes' according to Bobbi. "Rogers, what the hell?" And of course now he's getting the guff from Kwabena and Clint snorts, "Yeah, yeah, I'll tip you later. The big kids are talking, man. Relax." Clint doesn't fire because, well, Barnes puts his hands up, and Carol has him, but he holds his aim right on the snagged soldier. Assassin. Whatever. Still holding his attention on Carol and Barnes. He calls down to Bobbi. "What can I say? I bring the fun. You love it."
Carol holds Bucky up in the air, tilting her head as she says softly, "You were dead. Why aren't you dead?" She looks… well, very confused, a mess of emotions in her eyes as she keeps a firm grip on Bucky. Though now it's pretty clear why she was never afraid of being alone with him in the holding cells back at SHIELD HQ. "Bucky… do you know who I… we, are?" She doesn't quite look ready to set him down, but on the bright side, she's not doing anything other than just making sure he doesn't go anywhere.
"Trying to prevent my friend from getting shot," Steve says to Clint before making his way past Bobbi and out towards Bucky and Captain Marvel. "I think you get manhandled these days more than I did as a kid, Buck."
It's like Carol's picked up a deadly cyborg puppy by the scruff of the neck. Buck knows exactly how *not* to resist, passive in Carol's grip. He doesn't look like an internationally wanted mass murderer - more like some hippy friend of Steve's. Blame Kai for that. "I was dead," he says, simply, looking into Carol's face as best he can. "Someone brought me back. I remember you. You…..I met you when SHIELD had me," he says, quietly. "And ….I know you all, yeah. Well, some of you." He looks down at Steve. "Steve, you're not kidding," he agrees, with some asperity. "This has been a bad year."
Maximus glances at the scene unfolding, then Tony, then he steps backwards, himself, so that no one can blame him for anyyyyy of thisssss.
Yeah, this has gone far far beyond what Tony's going to deal with tonight. "So, catch you later, then," He says as he passes by Steve and Clint, casually walking toward his car. "Going to need you to move him to the left a bit," he says to Carol. "I'd hate to dent the grill." He gets behind the wheel, brings that purring kitten to life, and revs the engine a few times.
The cabbie winces when Steve takes a swipe at Clint, but he's all quiet now. No, Kwabena is focusing on one thing and one thing alone, and that is minding his temper.
No more cracking sound comes from the cabbie, just a few quiet 'pops' and a couple of gentle 'hisses', which could easily be mistaken as the taxi cooling down. Except, the engine is still running. Funny, that.
"Okay… EVERYBODY JUST STOP!", shouts Ultragirl, hovering in front of Bucky — she's clearly putting herself in the line of fire in front of him as best she can, and she's shouting at the top of her lungs with her hands in fists down at her sides. "He's NOT doing anything! He's NOT hurting anyone! All I see is some jerk aiming an arrow at someone who isn't doing ANYTHING wrong! If anyone tries to hurt him, they're gonna hafta go through ME to do it!", she declares, still shouting as loudly as she can. "So pick a fight or just shut the fuck up and chill the fuck out!", she concludes.
Bobbi came over to Steve, and casting a glance toward Clint as he called down to her. "Geeze, just get down Clint." She muttered as she cast a glance toward Carol. Her hands settling on her hips. She didn't look paticularly like she was going to chase down, nor pick a fight with anyone for the moment. Rather she stood, waiting to see what was going to happen, she wasn't going to pick a fight in front of the gates. The fact that Bucky was restrained more or less? Win in her book.
A glance was spared toawrd Susie and she arched a brow upwards. "Hey, instead of shouting to the city, lets not? No one wants a fight, right?" She glanced toward Clint, tilting her head to the side. "Also, I guess this means our outting is cancelled. Pay the cabby for his time at least?"
"Your friend?" Clint remarks, confusedly back to Steve, the tension on his bowstring slowly lessens and his poise drops. Clint watches Steve walk away from him and yells at his back. "/He shot you/!"
Blowing out a blustering breath of air, exasperated, Clint waves a hand and gets down off of the trunk, commenting conspiratorially to the cabbie he's just pissed off. "Of course, if I let a little thing like getting shot stop me, I wouldn't have nearly as much experience under my belt as I do, if you catch my drift?" A winning grin at a fuming man, Clint gives up and scrubs the back of his head with one hand. "Uh, yeah. I'll, uh, pay for the dent," the archer comments lamely.
Tony passes and Clint upnods at him again, his head follows for a split second. "Later, man." Susie shouts down at everyone and Clint seems to essentially ignore her for the most part, flicking his gaze skyward again to fix his mirrored attention on the cluster of hovering folks. "Uh…huh…" Then following Bobbi visually, he offers her a crooked smile and slight shrug. "Next time." He promises mildly.
"Yeah," Steve says with a nod to Clint. "I mean, I got better." He sighs, looking up towards Bucky and Carol. "Come on inside. I have some bad domestic beer in the fridge." As he makes his way towards the mansion, he stops when he comes to Ultragirl. "We have a swear jar. You owe twenty cents. But you're not wrong."
Carol sets down Bucky, taking her hand off of him as she says, "He's not kidding, by the way. It's really bad. But then again, keeps me from being tempted." She guides Bucky into the mansion proper, a million questions in her head, but those can wait a bit as she leads the way.
He's as docile as a lamb - Bucky lets Carol steer him to the mansion. "Okay," he says, pleasantly enough. Trusting fool. But then Steve's always undone common sense, when it comes to James Barnes. That's how they're still friends, even after multiple murder attempts.
Tony waves out the window in Clint's direction. The man may have a bow trained in the direction of the car he happens to be in, but hey, he likes the guy. "Later, Cap," he calls out the window, and then he's on his way. He'll check back later.
Kwabena darts his attention from Bucky and Carol, to Susie, to Bobbi and finally back to Clint. A sly grin pierces his waning anger, and he provides a remark that carries just a bit more truth than he intended. "I catch yah drift."
Too bad the American slang just doesn't sound right when he says it, but there's a bit more honesty in his tone than should be expected.
The cabbie turns around and sets himself to switching off the fare meter. He can't help but smirk a bit when Captain America mentions a swear jar to Susie. "Oh, come on," he murmurs under his breath.
Susie follows in after Carol and Bucky, and looks abashed when Steve mentions the swear jar… until she realizes something: Captain America just talked to her! This has her smiling, and blushing, again by the time she's walking into the mansion itself. She spends some time shadowing Bucky after that, as if she fears someone else is going to try to attack him or threaten him, somehow. Eventually, though, she ends up heading out and flying away.
Bobbi hung back, waiting for Clint as he took care of the fare and the dent. She glanced once toward the gaggle heading inside, before she shifted her gaze back toward the archer. "Don't tease him too hard," She chided, her lips pursing together. "They've got history." She sighed, dragging her hands through her hair. "And you and I should talk." She murmured softly.
A glance spared toward the cabby briefly.
"Boyscouts," Clint explains to Kwabena while he eyerolls over the swearjar. "What do I owe you?" Pulling out his wallet while the rest head in, he digs in for cash after a glance at the meter. He doubles the fare for a tip and eyes the dent with a sigh. "I've seen the cliffs notes," Clint mentions to Bobbi, though the broad strokes are hardly the same thing. "We didn't even go anywhere. I'm sending your pal over there an invoice." Thumbing through another few bills, Clint cringes as he hands them over to Kwabena. "And for the dent. Sorry, man. If your boss gives you any shi—" Clint pops his head up to make sure Steve's gone and then ducks back to Kwabena. "If he gives you any shit, call me." A nondescript business card handed over to Kwabena. Black on white. No name on it, just a number.
"I heard that, Barton!" Rogers yells from the entryway of the Mansion. He never breaks stride on his way towards his cooler. They might have to send one of the newest members to get more beer. It's going to be a long night.
Carol Danvers laughs softly, shaking her head as she looks at Bucky, hrmming a bit under her breath. "So, you didn't really say anything in Niflheim." Because yeah, she noticed him there. It's why she thought he was dead, after all.
"I didn't have much to say," Buck offers, quietly. "Kai was down there because I killed him. I was forced to…..again." There's some bent part of hisbrain that keeps insisting it's his fault, somehow. That some flaw in him, some weakness, is why first the Russians and then the dark elves could turn his mind so easily.
"I don't know what is a 'boy scout'," Kwabena answers honestly, while pulling his torso out from the open window. "Look," he says then, and turns to Clint. "Just… $15, to pop de dent. I'm, ah, not going to charge for fare."
He eyeballs the bills, and only snatches up three fives. "My boss is an asshole. Dis whole thing was prank, for getting last cab in… ah, for getting last cab totaled."
He does, however, take the business card with a smirk. "Not to worry. He won't give me shit I cannot handah." Regardless, he pockets the business card. One never knows.
"You peopah have fun in Avengah-ville." He pops the driver's side door open, then turns and addresses whomever is left outside. "And don't expect me to evah respond to dis address again!"
Bobbi nudged Clint lightly when he was clearly done with the cabbie, her brows shooting upwards and her lips thinned. Barnes showing up rather put a damper on things. The call from in the entryway had her lips twitching faintly in amusement. "Guess you owe money to the swear jar, handsome." She heaved a sigh, dragging a hand through her hair.
"C'mon."
Clint slides a smile to Kwabena and slips him another fiver as a tip, folded between his fingers for a hand shake. "Sounds like a real heel, your boss. Good luck, man. Thank you." He peeks inside the cab's name plaquard for a moment and raps his hand on the roof as he turns to Bobbi.
Facing down Bobbi, aggitated, isn't exactly somewhere he wants to be at any point in time. Clint braces himself and turns, pushing his sunglasses up into his short hair. Pause. "Wait. He wasn't serious, was he? Who the hell keeps a /swear jar/?"
A hearty smirk is given to the tip. Kwabena stuffs the cash away, then quickly removes that stupid shirt. It's still hot out, and the tank at least lets his arms cool. Moments later, the taxi cab is peeling down the driveway and out into New York traffic.
He's probably headed for the nearest watering hole.
Carol sighs and shakes her head, "You aren't responsible for what the people are forcing you to do… but we need to figure out a way to make them stop." She looks at Bucky with concern. On one hand, she shouldn't get sucked in. On the other, there's just something about Bucky that makes her worry. Probably the fact that he really can't hurt her, at least not physically. "I don't know that many psychics, save the ones with SHIELD though… and I don't know if that's an option."
"I was doing better until these elf things got me," he says, matter of factly. It sounds crazy….and by many yardsticks, Bucky *is* crazy. Shithouse rat levels of crazy. "It was bad," he adds. Carol can see his affect start to flatten out, lapsing into Winter's cold insouciance. "Some of them helped me before. And I'm doing better. 'm more…..me, now. More James, you know?" His tone is conversational - Carol, at least, he's willing to trust.
Bobbi waited for the cabbie to pull away before she turned her focus back to Clint. His response earned a laugh from her and she shook her head, moving to peck his cheek. "C'mon honey, lets go see what's up with the internationally wanted criminal and find out what's going on in his head. If he's here to put another hit on Steve or if he's turning himself in. Who knows, maybe we'll be lucky and my mission of 'Bring him in Morse,' will finally work out without my having to go to the hospital." She spoke lightly, turning to enter the mansion and making to try to find out where Carol and Bucky had gone off to.
And just like that, he's back! Bobbi gives him that peck on the cheek and the same corner of Clint's mouth twitches upward. Feeling like he dodged a bullet, Barton skips a half step to catch up with Bobbi, but before they reach the door, he turns his head and murmurs low beside the blond's ear. "You know, it might've been a wash, but watching you run down that drive was something else, Morse." Oh, Clint. You flatterer. Hawkeye drops his sunglasses down as they follow to see what's going on.
Carol sits with Bucky at the dining room table, and smiles over at him, "Good. More James is good." She nods, her eyes looking curiously at the man, "But I think I definitely am going to punch out the first elf I see that isn't Kai. One thing I know about those faeries, from my research and what Thor and Loki told me… they're sneaky bastards that can just worm into your head. Even if you aren't a deprogrammed assassin."
"If I were going to kill Steve again, I'd'a been half a mile away on a rooftop, not walking up to his front door," Bucky's apparently got no scruples about admitting to eavesdropping, either. His tone is matter of fact, as he tosses that back over his shoulder. Steve's an American hero and also a great big spangly walking target. He follows Carol down to the dining room without hesitation. If it's a trap or that's where they keep the dungeon….he's screwed anyhow. Can't bear Carol. "Yeah," he admits. "Everyone keeps telling me that. That it wasn't my fault. This," He taps his temple with that gloved fingertip, "Understands that. I'm not responsible. This," And now he touches his solar plexus, "Doesn't buy it."
Bobbi shot Clint a look over her shoulder as she strode into the dinning room, a little extra sway in her hips perhaps from his fliratious comment, perhaps just because she could. Who could say? Either way, she dumped her back on the floor as she approached, making no attempts to move quietly. Better safe than sorry in regards to well trained people.
"We're still pretty unsure about his deprogrammed state, correct? Unless we had a mutant on hand that can read minds or something, it's not as if we can prove either way what's going on in his head. I know Steve wants to see you saved, Barnes. But there's a whole lotta red tape and paper work, governments and other agencies out there that would love to see you vanish." She grimaced, "So, if you're not here to kill Rogers, whatcha doing hanging out of the mansion where you know powered folks are living these days?"
"He's not wrong," Clint pipes up with a shrug. The non-Avenger in the room, settling in next to Bobbi, arms flexing across his chest, folded up. "His file reads minimal risk, not going door to door like a vacuum salesman." Though for the rest, he's silent, letting the ladies who are more accustomed dealing with all this crazy bullshit and…did Carol say /faeries/? Clint's expression remains stoic and silent while he watches everything unfold.
Carol looks at Bucky, "I got a feeling as to what you were here for Bucky, but I want to hear it from you." She leans back in her chair, watching him carefully as she tilts her head to Clint and Bobbi, "Relax. I have this." She then pauses and smiles a bit at Clint, "Yeah, dark evil faeries. Also I visited the Land of the Dead and fought the Russian God of Evil. So that was an interesting time."
"Believe me, I know. Why do you think I'm not sitting in a SHIELD cell anymore?" Bucky's tone is mild. "They couldn't hold me and they couldn't protect me. The Russians damn near got me and I ended up shot in the face by a SHIELD agent," …..and is apparently alive and well, anyhow. No scar on his face. No sign of violence, and he's apparently unarmed. Well, as much as a guy with a metal prosthesis that can rip the door off a car with ease can ever be said to be unarmed. "I came to see Steve. I miss him….and I can't live like I am forever. Gotta come in from the cold sometime…." Where has he been living? He looks clean and clean-cut, save for the hair - it'd be past his shoulders if he had it unbound. But even that's been washed, and his clothes aren't ragged. He shrugs…and while none of the alloy arm is visible, there's the faintest rasp of plate against plate, like the slither of a snake's scales. "I'm not turning myself in, though," he adds, as if it were crucial that no one here mistake his intentions.
Bobbi glanced toward Clint, then back to Barnes, her lips thinning together as she sighed and came over to a chair. She flipped it backwards and straddled it. "Look, Barnes. I'm sympathetic, really I am. If I wasn't, I would've pulled my gun on you and called it a day." She sighed, dragging her hand through her hair.
"Regardless of the fact that the other programmed you broke my leg and left me battered in an alley way, and broke into my apartment to threaten my life. Yeah.." She flipped her hair back and glanced over Bucky.
"Listen, you gotta understand that I'm in a bind here. I do work with the Avengers, but my hands are very much tied by Shield. My name can get blacklisted if I don't report something. Especially if it gets out that we're housing you here. Steve and Carol? Even Tony. They can walk that off. I'm a spy. My name doesn't exist in the record books."
If Clint's attention swings toward Carol as she fills in some random details, it's hard to tell from behind mirrored sunglasses. Bobbi has her job to think about, Carol thinks she's got it, so he remains still and silent. Backup against a ghost? Well. Standard Tuesday.
Carol looks over at Bobbi, "Walking away for me isn't that much easier than it is for you. I just got fully reinstated after all." She then glances at Bucky, "First thing we need to do, is get a telepath, a good one, to go through your mind with a fine toothed comb and make sure the weak spots are taken out. We can probably swing that, since… well, it's not like we could keep you in a SHIELD cell anyway. Loki or someone will bust you out 'for your own good' anyway, even if it isn't." She frowns, and shrugs a bit, "It'd probably be the best for everyone, but I don't really know any telepaths or the like, save Maximus… and I wouldn't trust him in anyone's head."
"Oh, I won't be staying here," He seems quite firm on that front. "I've got safe places for now. This is a visit to make overtures. See if Steve really does have enough juice to get me some kind of deal. I'm not going to go sit in some cell so they can find me hung by my own bedsheet one fine morning…or get me tried by some kangaroo court and sent up in front of the firing squad. If you wanna tell SHIELD I'm willing to deal, by all means. Go to town. I'm not surrendering, I'm not staying here, and I'm not anyone's prisoner." Carol's comment has his lips thinning out in that grim line. "You all had one. I….can't remember her name. But…she helped me. Broke some of the conditioning. It's….mostly neutralized, but not gone. Guess you'll have to find one."
Bobbi heaved a sigh, "I know the files we have on known telepaths. I read Peggy's documents when we were trying to find out who was a skrull. I managed to track what they were after during the invasion via what her replacement was reading over." She rubbed the back of her neck. "These are all highly classified. I read stuff that is way beyond my pay grade." She glanced around and stifled a groan. This was not what she wanted to deal with.
"Shield won't fight to give you a deal, Barnes. Even if Peggy wanted to for Steve." She glanced toward around the room once more and settled her forehead against the chair back in front of her. "Every international and domestic agency would love to get their hands on you, Barnes." A pause, "If we can get you cleared, honest to god cleared.. Then the best thing you can do is fake your death. Ghost. Go to ground and start a new life. It's the only way I know to get someone off the grid."
Clint doesn't take a step forward, but speaks up from his perch, "The man doesn't want to vanish, he wants his life back." Clint draws everything back around to what brought Bucky back to the driveway. Missing his friend? Yeah. "He's not sticking around here, and even if he is clear, he's got every major agency on him. Make your arguments, make your peace, make your plans. Bobbi," Clint addresses the blond sitting backwards in her seat. "You gotta make a decision." He knows, point blank, that every second she stays there and doesn't report up, her position is in jeopardy. Her and him both have to decide if they're in or out on this one.
That has Bucky pulling off his glove, and lifting his metal hand, palm out. It's all softly gleaming metal, as finely articulated as Swiss clockwork. "With this? Not a chance - I can never fade out or blend in unless you know some miracle worker who can undo what was done to me. That's never been an option, or I'd've done it. Even if they genuinely did think I was dead, the Russians'd move heaven and earth just to get that off my body." Another of those shrugs. "If SHIELD won't deal, they won't deal. I'll find another way." He speaks with a confidence he surely can't really have. For Bobbi's right - every hand is raised against him, the police of myriad countries on the hunt for a ghost. "Someone will. CIA, FBI….someone will."
Bobbi reached out for Clint's hand, clasping it tightly in her own. Her gaze lifting, "Damn it Clint, I know." She bit out, and there was a decidedly frustrated bent to her words. She honestly seemed to struggle. She'd been top of her class in Shield's academy, not only for her work in the field of science but also in every other single class she took. She'd been loyal for years. Just finished off her graduate work to become 'Doctor' Morse. She'd gone through Skrulls and Russians and Nazi sympathizers. She'd been loyal. Even agreeing to the mission to keep tabs on the Avengers.
A spy didn't get to quit. If she left, gone would be the protections of an agency. All her enemies, all the people she'd screwed over to get the job done would come pounding back. If her own agency didn't burn her for treason.
"You know if they cut you a deal, it'll be to work for them. It would never see the light of day. And when they thought your usefulness was over, they'd end you." She whispered, glancing back toward Bucky. "But you know this. We all do. After the years you've been forced to carry out everything, there's no easy way to get out of it."
Clint seemed largely immobile, though when Bobbi reached for his hand, arms unfolded from his chest and the man gave it to her to a moment to squeeze. "Sometimes with your back against the wall, the best option out, is in." He gets what Barnes is saying. Shit, he took the same deal at one point, though it was nothing like his. Someone had to deal. And someone would. "Everyone's got to regroup. Barnes, you should get out of here. Folks need time to see what they can do."
"I know," he says, staunchly. And by that level blue stare, he means it. "I may have been a slave, but I'm not a traitor. I trust Steve. I trust Peggy….and I trust the greed of the other guys who won't dare let me fall into someone else's hands. They want what I have in here," A fingertip to temple again, "And here," He taps the center of his metal palm. "I'll never be a civilian again, but at least I have a chance to choose my masters." Clint gets an upnod, and he's rising, without a further word or farewell. Almost sauntering, in that funny, deliberate way he has- that gallows swagger matadors have. And then he's gone, walking bold as brass out the Avengers' front door.