Summary:Clint has a few questions for Julia. Including what her nickname should be. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Late on a Monday in the Triskelion. Dayshift. Deep in the depths of the deep deep down governmental building lies a cubicle with two agents who normally don't work at all together. They simply share the space. The nameplates on the desk are simple. No mention of title. There's simply one on the wall that proclaims, 'DOUGLAS', though a pair of fake glasses with nose and mustache hangs from it. While the one actually on the desk that's nearest the door offers the name of 'BARTON' in nice clean Times New Roman font, only with a tiny fox in a green suit and with a bow and arrow beside it.
The Barton chair is occupied by the man himself, boots up on his desk as he's reading a manila folder in his lap, gaze distanced and thoughtful as he undoes the loops of a paper clip with his thumb.
Douglas though, he's pulling on his jacket, "Alright, Barton. M'out."
"Seeya man," Clint lifts a hand to wave absently to the side. But then he straightens up a little, "Oh hey. What's yer vote on the Perry Poll?"
Coat now securely on, Douglas leans over on the desk and looks at what seems to be a tiny bit of poster board that's divided into four areas, each with a varying number of various objects embedded in the four sections. Douglas tilts his head and crinkles his nose, "These all suck,"
"Yeah, but I just work here, man."
"Alright, number 3."
"Righto." And casually he flicks the paperclip from his hand into the third spot. Perfect.
Speaking of 'Perry', or at least *a* Perry, the SRR Agent on assignment to SHIELD is passing by Douglas and Barton's office. She's changed into civvies and has her bag on her shoulder with a casefile open as she peruses it and walks. Looks like she's headed out for the day. Right on time. Which is a bit odd. Most of the agents, especially the younger ones, tend to put in those long hours trying to get noticed and get those promotions. 'Perry' clocks out on time just about every day.
With Douglas coming out about the same time, she pauses and gives him a polite smile and nod. "Afternoon." In jeans and T-shirt with an open button-up over that to help hide the sidearm, she looks even younger than usual. Since she's had to pause, she glances into the office where Barton is still seated, a smirk touching her lips as she catches the perfect shot.
That other folder in Barton's hands folds with a slight rustle as he tosses it over onto the desktop. He straightens up, old 1960s style office chair twisting with a creak and complaining about the shift of weight as his shoes thump to the floor.
He starts to turn and then his eyebrows lift, "Oh. Perry." He points at her for an instant and says, "Need your feedback on something." That pointing finger inverts to become a 'c'mere' gesture as he leeeeans to the side in his chair, starting to go through the drawers on the left side of his desk. Each one opening with a schwoopf, and then closing with a schwoomf-thud.
"Serious business." He says and then finds what he was looking for, which apparently was a bright green apple that he buffs on one sleeve. He motions with a nod to the Perry Poll Poster Board on the wall and gestures, "What's your vote?"
And there, on the wall, with at the top of it saying simply, 'Perry Poll 2019' And under it are four sectors with titles above them.
1. Perry Perry Quite Contrary.
2. StrawPerry Shortcake.
3. Perry Curie.
4. Katy Perry.
Number four apparently has the least amount of votes.
Julia Pennyworth arches a brow a bit as Clint calls out to her, letting Douglas by and then stepping into the office space. As Barton roots around in his desk she leans a shoulder against the doorframe and crosses her arms. Waiting. While she does so, her gaze moves over the place. From the old, worn furniture to the cutesey additions to the nameplates. She gets to the board about the time that Clint points it out and her gaze slides back over to him with an 'are you serious' sort of look.
"Big hero like you has nuthin' better t' do than come up with bloody awful nicknames for me?" She's been in the spy business to remember her own fake last name.
And yes, Julia does know who he is, even if she doesn't ask the usual 'can you get me Captain America's autograph' of him.
The archer flares his hands as if he had no control over it, "Don't blame me," He says as he finishes buffing the apple, "Consider it a sort of rite of passage. An initiation into the hallowed halls of SHIELD Exceptionalism?" His lip twitches as perhaps even on some level he doesn't buy what he's selling.
But then he turns to face her on the swivel chair and says, "Look, it's silly. I know it's silly. /But/ I started it once sort of as a goof on a friend of mine. And it stuck, and whenever we get some new kid runnin' around the playground…" He just sort of shakes his head but the smile reaches his eyes.
"They ask me to throw one up there. And with all the craziness we deal with. S'kinda nice to deal with a lil bit of our own that we can control."
He glances over at the chart, then back to her and says, "So if you can toss a vote, I'd be much obliged." And then he takes a big chomping bite out of the apple as a form of punctuation.
"Don't blame you, eh? So do you have one? Clinty Binty or somewot?" Julia is still leaning against the doorframe, not venturing fully into Clint's little haven here. She gives him a small roll of the eyes. "I'm hardly a kid." Not like some of the fresh faces they get in from the Academy every year. Julia comes pre-seasoned!
Julia looks over at the board again and then finally steps into the room. She sets her bag down on one of the chairs, setting the file down on top of that. And eagle eye (or perhaps a hawk) might spot that it's on the Sinister Six. Julia snags a large post-it and a pen and scrawls something out (though even her scrawl is better penmanship than most folks in this place) and makes a mark beneath. She goes over to the board and pins it off to the side. 'OrdiPerry'. One vote.
"Hey, you've seen the grief I take. I've got plenty of nicknames." He chews on the apple bite for a bit, swallows, then leans over towards the sign as the chair squeaks once more. "Hah." Is offered as comment to her choice of nickname, then gives a nod. Her at least participating is a positive most likely.
"Alright, thanks." He turns, subtly taking a moment to gauge that folder of hers, but then starts locking up the desk, engaging some of the magnetic locks in place with a small keypad on the side of the desk. There's a low ka-chung as the mechanisms settle into position.
He then rises and grabs his jacket off the back of the chair. "M'headin' towards the armory, I'll walk ya out. I wanted to pick your brain a little." He slips one arm into a sleeve, then the other into another, adjusting the hang of his jacket then takes another bite of apple.
It's only once they're out in the hall that he asks her, "So what's your big secret?"
"Security seems at odds with the age of the desk." Julia remarks as he locks it down.
As she re-gathers her items, she stows the file into her satchel. Nothing about her mannerisms indicates she's trying to hide it, just make sure it's secure since she's been distracted from her perusal of it. Spies need to police their documents like others need to police their brass.
"Didn't take but a whit o' time so I suppose I can indulge you." Brits are the masters of dry humor. That's followed up with a soft huff and as she glances side-eye at him. "Well now I feel like I should worry." When he follows that up asking what her big secret is? She doesn't even smirk, the reply easy as can be. "Daddy issues."
"Daddy issues?" His own side-eyed look is spared for her as he turns off the lights and starts to close up the office, then closes the door until the lock clicks. "I mean, that's good to know. We'll definitely get back to that." His lip twists a little but then he hrms to himself.
"But I was more meanin' like," He holds up a hand, "Don't take this the wrong way." Another bite of the apple and he chews for a time, swallows as he starts the loooong walk down the hallway. "But you got this whole work life separation thing working. Quittin' time hits and you've got your junk done, and you're out the door. And what's more, your work is clean." He says as his eyebrows lift as if finding it a smidge incredulous. "So you're not droppin' the ball there."
His blue eyes shift back to her and he asks, "So what's your secret with that? How do you manage?" As if she had some magical spell or technique to solve all of life's ills.
Well, damn. Usually that's enough TMI to distract people. Of course Clint's not most people but for all the superheroing, he's still human, right? Julia doesn't answer for a bit, and they walk in silence. At least Clint has his apple.
Finally, Julia glances over him. "I see I've got your Attention." The nicknames, him checking into her work. SHIELD is big enough that you usually need to work closely with someone to pick up on those things. "Not a big secret. Don't take on more than you can get done. And if somethin' takes more time than I planned, I do take it home and work through it in my downtime." Those long hours in the cave when the Bats are on patrol and don't need an Overwatch. Or she's waiting for the computers data crunching to run.
Clint stops walking and turns to face her, "Hey." He'll wait til she meets his eyes and he'll look between her own. "This ain't me bein' a spook here. I know, I know. Most of what we do is covered in shades and shadows and everyone has to look out. One or the other of us might be a spy for whatever. Great."
His lip curves up, "This is more me tryin' ta figure out if you got like a system, or is it your support structure at home, or whatever. I mean if I saw an AIM agent with the same numbers you push, after we busted him I'd ask him the same thing."
But at that he takes one last bite of the apple and gives a shrug. "But then again maybe you're just that whup ass."
It takes an extra moment for Julia to stop, and she has to turn around to meet Clint's eyes. It's a look he knows too well. Someone with a lot of secrets that's used to keeping the blinds down so everything stays hidden. Most of those secrets aren't even relevant to anything Clint might care about, but after a while you just get used to keeping them. Likewise, the smile she gives him is like watching sunlight on the television. Bright enough, but it doesn't warm you up.
"A spy? Surely not Hawkeye. He's an Avenger." She nudges him lightly with an elbow. "Saved the world, even." The average joe would undoubtedly believe the friendly vibes. But Clint's an old hat at this. And Julia's good enough she knows he's not going to swallow it either. Makes for an interesting interaction. 'I know that you know that I know' and on and on it goes.
"You've got a rep." Julia finally says. "So they like to throw the big things at you. The hard things. Makes it hard to close things out. I stick with the crumbs, makes cleanup easier." It would seem to indicate a lack of ambition. Except for the fact she's been with the SSR for years and she's not even 30 yet.
His own thoughts, his features, aren't quite as easy to obscure. Or perhaps he's just exceptional at doing so. She can see the way he looks between her eyes, his own smile offering a bit of warmth comparatively, though there's a hint of… not so much sadness and more regret? Or deja vu for him, since he's seen that look in her eyes many times before.
From many different people.
And similar in many ways to partners of old.
It's just a small moment shared where there might almost be a faint meeting of the minds, as if to say, 'so this is how it is?' though it's in that moment he turns and throws away the apple.
Then when he looks back there's that brightness in his eyes again and the easy-going smile is in place, "Yeah, you're prolly right."
He starts walking again, "Think I'm gonna take that energy bow thing for a test drive tonight. You should come. I hear it's pretty great, way better than Cats."
Julia definitely has some extra years that have accumulated that the calendar doesn't account for. If she notices that empathy offered, it doesn't show.
Some of the SHIELD folks are like that. Standing slightly apart, never saying much. Like them, Perry doesn't have any real apparent friends at work and she goes out with her coworkers very rarely. A transplant from London, she doesn't even hang out with the other UK folks in SHIELD. OrdiPerry is right.
"Musicals ain't really my thing, but I've got plans t'night." Who turns down an invitation to spend time with an Avenger?
Speaking of plans, Julia figures she'll have to see about changing up her routine if she's got Clint's attention. She doesn't need to him to decide to watch her apartment that she almost never stays at. Or looking into her cover ID, and finding out there is no Perry.
Stopping near the bank of elevators finally at about halfway down that long long underground hallway. "Yeah, not exactly everyone's thing. Test-firing potentially dangerous and explosive technology in the confines of an armored bunker. Not exactly dinner and a movie." His lip twists and he hits the down button, then quirks an eyebrow at her as if checking if she wants him to hit the up button for her to head on out of here. If so he'll hit that button too.
Of course his is the one that opens first and he steps into the elevator. "Alright, I'll seeya Perry." He says even as the doors start to close behind him. She might be out of the woods then, only for at the last moment…
His hand darts out to catch the doors before they close. They whisper back opening again as he tells her, "Oh yeah." He touches a hand to his chest, "Robin Hood." He offers, in way of nickname. "I know, I know. It was a simpler time." Those years back in SHIELD. Probably nobody asked him to do the nickname pool, considering how long he's been with the agency. Nobody left that remembered except for him.
"Anyways, seeya." The doors start to close again.
"I dunno. Sounds like anything Michael Bay's directed." Julia points out with some underlying humor to her words. "But 's true. You didn't mention dinner anywhere in there and a girl's gotta eat." Which she will. In front of the Bat Computer after she's gotten a f hour nap or so before the Bats get busy. If it's a slow night, she might get another two before she comes in at 7am.
Julia does nod for him to hit the 'up' button. She really *does* want to catch that nap. Otherwise she might have been tempted to let Clint show her his… hardware.
The mocha skinned woman is breathing a sigh of relief as Clint catches the door, and then rolls her eyes upward as he fesses up. "That don't even rhyme!" She calls after the closing doors, shaking her head. "Weird bloke." She mutters to herself as the doors close for realsies this time.