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We got magic, good and bad...
Jun. 20th, 2012 03:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
doesntmisswho? Clint Barton; Ana Adams
when? Well before the Avengers assemble
what? a first encounter.
Finally, a break. Only two days between assignments, but hey, it was better than nothing, so Clint had settled in a small, moderately crappy hotel that wasn't too far off from the swing of things, appearing for all intents and purposes like your average backpacking traveller. His clothes matched that with how well-worn they were, and when he went out the next morning he carried nothing but his wallet and his shades.
The last few days had been decidedly too much hiding and too much killing people and Clint decided he needed distraction, but he was up too early, tension lingering in his muscles still. At least it was a nice morning, slightly chilly, prefacing a perhaps sunny, definitely warm day. So he strolled through the streets, finally lending a hand to the vendors at the farmer's market as he set up shop. Small talk. Normal people. Little things to root him in a world that wasn't full of secrets.
An hour later he'd bought a pound of cherries and had scaled a smaller building, setting up camp on top to eat. In his defense, at least he wasn't spitting cherry pits at passerbys. Just watching.
when? Well before the Avengers assemble
what? a first encounter.
Finally, a break. Only two days between assignments, but hey, it was better than nothing, so Clint had settled in a small, moderately crappy hotel that wasn't too far off from the swing of things, appearing for all intents and purposes like your average backpacking traveller. His clothes matched that with how well-worn they were, and when he went out the next morning he carried nothing but his wallet and his shades.
The last few days had been decidedly too much hiding and too much killing people and Clint decided he needed distraction, but he was up too early, tension lingering in his muscles still. At least it was a nice morning, slightly chilly, prefacing a perhaps sunny, definitely warm day. So he strolled through the streets, finally lending a hand to the vendors at the farmer's market as he set up shop. Small talk. Normal people. Little things to root him in a world that wasn't full of secrets.
An hour later he'd bought a pound of cherries and had scaled a smaller building, setting up camp on top to eat. In his defense, at least he wasn't spitting cherry pits at passerbys. Just watching.
