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Two of a Kind (Working on a Full House); 05/23-night-Clint & Bobbi
Topic Started: Nov 15 2013, 10:17 PM (208 Views)
Hawkeye
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Now Bobbi was telling Clint what he'd said like he didn't know, which didn't make any sense at all. Of course he knew what he'd said, he'd been there when it happened! That wasn't the kind of detail Mock usually missed. It still didn't explain why she thought he had a problem with them having sons.

Just... argh! And there went his pants, sailing into the ceiling and then dropping to the floor in a heap. Great. So much for him wearing them like he'd planned. And Bobbi was giving him a look now, like he was being ridiculous. Uh-uh. No. She did not get to give him that look when she was raving about him not wanting boys for no reason. She was driving him crazy, but fine, they could have boys if she wanted boys! They could pick them all out right here if that would make her happy.

It didn't, of course. She just locked her jaw and glared at him some more, making it perfectly clear how not happy she was. "That doesn't even make any sense," she said, because suddenly it was him not making sense. "Be serious, Clint."

"I'm being serious," he insisted. "I'm totally serious. I am the Mayor of Seriousville. I am Harry Potter's godfather. I'm what Heath Ledger's Joker was talking about when he asked 'Why so serious?'" God, he'd loved that movie. But how could she not think he was serious? He loved her. He was going to love anything that came out of her, boy or girl.

For some reason that made her throw up her hands again and then she growled at him. She. Growled. Cripes. She could at least pretend to be mature about this. "Oh my god, Hawk, you make me sound like an EZ Bake Oven. We're talking about kids, here, not blueberry muffins!"

Okay, that was it. "We're talking about us!" he said. Or at least they would, if she stopped yelling at him about boys versus girls and muffins. There was nothing in the world more important to him than her and them and he was going to lose his mind trying to figure out how to have even the simplest conversation about kids.

Clint waited for Bobbi to say something, because it was her turn, but something had gone sideways in her expression. Like she'd suddenly been clocked over the head or something and he tensed, forgetting how frustrated he'd been a second before and worry rushed in to replace it. "...Babe?" he asked.

She turned and carelessly sank down onto the edge of the bed, looking for a moment like a balloon that had been punctured. She swiveled her torso toward him, that semi-stunned expression still on her face. What was it? Was something wrong? Tentatively, he reached out, laying a hand over hers as his concern kept growing. Other than that look on her face, she seemed okay, but she'd better say something soon or he was going to start checking her for poison or mind control or indigestion or something. Naked or not, if there was a problem, he was taking her straight to the infirmary.

"We are, aren't we?" she finally said, which got his mind to stop running in circles about what might be wrong, but his brain reversed so hard it stalled. They were what again? "Talking about kids?"

Oh!

Right, they were talking about kids.

Wait. They were. God. They were really talking about kids.

"Yeah," Clint said, or maybe just breathed as it began to really sink in. "Yeah. We are." He blinked a couple of time, feeling like he'd just grabbed the wrong end of one of his electro-arrows. It was a good thing he was already sitting down, or he might have hit the floor right about then.

"And maybe having one've our stupidest arguments ever."

They'd had some doozeys over the years, but this kind of did rank right up there. "Sorry?" he said, not entirely sure what to say just yet, and a little surprised he was able to say anything at all. He swept the tip of his tongue over his lips, which were feeling incredibly dry for some reason. "I can't figure out if this is the worst timing ever or if we should have talked about this ages ago." Wait, that didn't make sense. That was almost like saying the exact same thing.

He shook his head, trying to rattle his thoughts around until they lined up again. "I- yeah. A family. Us and a bunch of kids. That future we used to talk about. You remember?" He didn't doubt for a second she did. "I want to be a dad, Bobbi." Even saying that word seemed to add to his awareness of it all. His lips tilted into a lopsided smile. "I don't even know the first thing about how to be a dad." Which didn't change a thing about how much he wanted it anyway. Maybe he was a little crazy after all, but somehow he didn't think so.
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Mockingbird
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What? Pick out-what? None of that made any sense for god's sake. Now he was just being ridiculous and this was no a ridiculous discussion. This was a serious discussion. Or she was trying to have a serious discussion, she wasn't sure what Hawk was trying to have, but could he at least try to be serious for five straight minutes?

"I'm being serious," he insisted. "I'm totally serious. I am the Mayor of Seriousville. I am Harry Potter's godfather. I'm what Heath Ledger's Joker was talking about when he asked 'Why so serious?'" Oh my god!

Sometimes, it was like talking to someone who spoke a completely different language and now was one've those times. Bobbi threw her hands up and practically growled in frustration, while Clint decided to poke her and talk about whatever she'd 'make' in there.

Arrrggh!

She loved him. She loved him absolutely to death and beyond, but that would not keep her from smacking him right now. They were talking about kids, here! And their life! Or their possible life. And he was making her sound like a damned EZ bake oven, for god's sake.

Kids! Not muffins!

"We're talking about us!" Clint shot back at her and that's at least what she was trying to talk about. Him, Bobbi still wasn't sure about. Definitely not with the movie references and the baking references and, and -

Jesus. Kids. They were talking about kids and that future that they used to want - used to count on having - that she'd all but given up on five years ago because the world went to hell. And Clint wanted a damned dog to sleep on the bed and get hair all over everything and kids and she needed to sit down. She needed to sit down now.

"...Babe?" Bobbi heard her husband say, or ask, as she dropped down onto the nearest available thing, which thank god happened to be the edge of the bed and not the floor. Feeling like she'd just been hit by a right cross she hadn't seen coming, Bobbi turned toward Clint. Turned her hand over to clasp his when she felt it covers hers.

They were, weren't they? Talking about kids and that future? Actually sitting here, talking about it.

"Yeah," Hawk confirmed, sounding and looking like that surprise right hook might've just caught him, too. "Yeah. We are." They were. Talking or...yelling like two idiots in one've what might be their stupidest arguments ever. Pretty high bar to hit, when you were talking about them, but they'd managed all the same. They were the champs, after all.

"Sorry?" he said,, not sounding sure if he should be or not and one side of her mouth quirked up. "I can't figure out if this is the worst timing ever or if we should have talked about this ages ago." Despite the lingering loopy-ish feeling that she was still trying to get rid of, Bobbi frowned. Maybe it was that, but did that even make sense?

It should probably scare her, Mockingbird decided, that she almost understood it all the same. Then again, she'd been speaking fairly fluent 'Clint' at least part of the time for years.

Hawk shook his head like he was trying to shake things back into place, even though she didn't think that'd work or she'd have tried it already herself. "I- yeah. A family. Us and a bunch of kids. That future we used to talk about. You remember?" Bobbi nodded and had to swallow a little harder than she'd expected as she looked back at eyes almost the same blue as her own. Yeah, she remembered. Of course she remembered. How could she not? "I want to be a dad, Bobbi." Something about those words seemed to reach right into her chest, squeeze something in the vicinity of her heart in a way nobody else could ever manage and she twined her fingers with his. "I don't even know the first thing about how to be a dad."

Lips pursing, her brow furrowed a little as Bobbi looked over at him. God, why was she so bad at this unless there was yelling involved? "You'll be an amazing dad, Clint," she told him, because it was the most obvious thing in the world to her. She'd always known it. "I want that, too." Admitting it wasn't as hard as she'd been afraid it would be or expected it to be. Never had been with Hawk and you'd think she'd be used to that by now. "All of it. The kids, the stupid dog that sheds on everything and chews up my shoes. Boys, girls, I don't care."

Laying her other hand over his, swallowing down all those sudden nerves and what ifs, and what abouts, and maybes, she smiled a little. "Maybe not the picket fence. I could live without that." Not a picket fence kind of girl. Nobody would ever call her exactly traditional. She wanted this, though. Wanted it so that she could almost taste it, even if- "It scares the hell outta me a little, Babe," Bobbi confessed, "but I still want all that. All the things we talked about years and years ago."

Kids, a family. With him. Nobody but him, she couldn't even start to imagine it with anybody else. Maybe they were both crazy as hell, the former agent mused, sitting here half dressed or not dressed at all, yelling and fighting and looking like they'd both been hit over the head a little too hard, as they tried to talk about this, but damned if that didn't seem right too. For them. It was how it had all started to begin with, why change it now?
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Hawkeye
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Somehow they'd gotten so wrapped up in yelling at each other about kids that they'd overlooked the fact that they were talking about kids. This was definitely an entry into the top five of their dumbest arguments and proof that they weren't in any danger of losing their title in that department. Clint would have been impressed if he wasn't feeling like he'd gone one too many rounds with the Absorbing Man. He should probably apologize, even though he was so off balance right now he wasn't even sure exactly what he was apologizing for. He was still trying to decide if their timing was really that bad or if they should have had this conversation a lot sooner.

That didn't seem to add up for some reason. Bobbi frowned, probably trying to figure that comment out even as Clint puzzled over it himself. She didn't look exactly confused, though so maybe that was a good sign.

It was hard to dwell on that, though, when he was still reeling under the weight of the realization that had brought their argument to a screeching halt in the first place. Kids. He had to give his head a little shake. A family. Them and that life, that future he and Bobbi had talked about all the time before they put it on hold. She remembered all that, didn't she?

Mock nodded. He throat contracted slightly as she looked right at him with those blue eyes that always managed to draw him in like nothing else. He wanted to be a dad. That was about as eloquent as he could manage, and he was already at a pretty low bar there. But even still, that word. Dad. It said it so well. It definitely struck a chord deep down, that was for sure. Scared him too, he realized, or remembered, depending on how you looked at it, as Bobbi's fingers wove through his. What the heck did he know about being a dad?

His wife pursed her lips and looked at him, knitting her brows together slightly. "You'll be an amazing dad, Clint," she said, almost as if that should have been obvious to him. He really hoped so, but damn if it didn't make him feel a little better just to hear her say it. "I want that, too. All of it. The kids, the stupid dog that sheds on everything and chews up my shoes. Boys, girls, I don't care."

The more she talked about it, the easier the words seemed to come. Clint face softened as she placed her other hand on top of his. Whenever she opened up like this to him it always had that effect. He loved her so much and couldn't imagine any of those things, or any kind of future at all if it didn't include her. "Okay," he said, the last syllable stuttering into a quiet, deeply affectionate laugh.

"Maybe not the picket fence. I could live without that." That really didn't surprise Clint. She was more Rock & Roll than Rockwell. But it was an easy thing to give up. The rest, though, the big picture, details aside. That stuff he wanted like crazy. "It scares the hell outta me a little, Babe," Bobbi confessed, "but I still want all that. All the things we talked about years and years ago."

Clint nodded and gave her hand a squeeze, setting his other hand at the top of the stack they were now making. "I'm kind of terrified myself, Birdie, believe me," he assured her, "But you'll be the best mom the world's ever seen. I know it." No question about it. He didn't even have to think about it a little to be sure.

Swallowing slight, he turned to briefly look around the room. "We'll..." he faltered slightly as he tried to figure out how to say it. They'd set aside those plans so they could be part of this fight, and even though they were winning, even though it seemed it was right on the verge of being over, they had to consider everything that was involved. They couldn't just go on as they had. There would have to be changes.

It wouldn't be easy, he knew. But it would be worth it. "Whatever it takes," he finally said, turning his eyes back to her and smiling slightly. When they got right down to it, that's what it all amounted to. They both wanted it, so they'd do what they needed to so that they could have it.

Actually, no. There was one other thing they definitely needed to work out sooner rather than later. Tilting his head to the side, Clint said, "So, when do you think we should start?"
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Clint...Clint would be amazing. He'd be an amazing dad. He'd be great with kids. It wasn't something she'd even thought about doubting. Not ever. Not even once.

Hell, sometimes he was a big, six foot three kid, but she'd always loved that about him, too. He wanted to be a dad she wanted to see that. Wanted it so bad she could almost taste it. Wanted all of it. Kids, shoe-eating, shedding on everything dog. Boys, girls, some of each, she didn't care. She just wanted it.

More than she ever thought she would, especially when it was something she thought they'd more or less given up on years ago. Back when they'd put everything on hold because the world had started going to hell and what kind of place would that've been to bring kids into, even if they'd had the luxury of something like that?

But she still wanted that, Bobbi realized. God, she really wanted that. Probably had never stopped wanting that, she guessed, as she laid her other hand over Clint's and looked into his face. The way his expression went soft. Relaxed and all those lines that she didn't notice had settled onto his face these past five years vanished just that fast.

"Okay," Hawk agreed, ending that agreement with a quiet laugh. The kind that she hadn't heard so much, either, these last five years. Yeah. Yeah, she wanted that, with him. So damned much.

Maybe not the picket fence, that wasn't anything she couldn't live without. But the rest, she did. Even if it scared her. What kind of mother would she be? Her own mom had been okay. Better than okay, really. She'd been great with most of it and maybe she was a lot like her, but she'd never felt like she was all that maternal. So yeah, it was a little terrifying, but she still wanted it and everything that came with it. Every single thing they'd talked about years ago.

Hand tightening on hers, right when she needed exactly that, Clint nodded and added his own hand to the pile they had going. "I'm kind of terrified myself, Birdie, believe me," he assured her, and for some damned reason she'd never understood and probably never would, that actually made her feel better. Instead of more terrified, like it probably should've. "But you'll be the best mom the world's ever seen. I know it."

That...god, how could you not love a man that'd tell you something like that, after living with her all these years? He sounded sure enough for both of them and Bobbi decided that was good enough for her.

"I want to give it my best try, at least, Sport," she told him, smile going slightly crooked. She meant it, every single word of it as he looked around the room. Maybe for his pants again, but she'd lost track of them somewhere along the line. They'd been headed for the ceiling last she remembered.

"We'll..." he started, then stopped and those nerves she was ignoring started stomping around in her gut again. They'd what? Now really wasn't a great time for dramatic pauses. "Whatever it takes," he finally said, turning his eyes back to her and smiling slightly and Bobbi let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding.

"It's the only way we know how to do it, Babe." From the first time they'd set eyes on each other until now, that's how it had always gone. Change they could deal with. They could make it happen, whatever they needed to make happen. Whatever they needed to do or change.

If they could adapt to all the bad, they could damned well adapt to something good. And this would be good, she could feel it. He was her future, he'd always been her future, and she wanted that family with him. Wouldn't miss it for the world if there was any way at all to make it work.

Clint's head tilted to one side and she lifted a brow questioningly. What did he have up his sleeve now? "So, when do you think we should start?"

The lifted brow came down and drew together with the other one. "Now?" she guessed more than answered, "Tomorrow? Isn't this one've those things that should take care of itself with any luck at all?" She'd need to go talk to Stacy, she guessed, but it was close to time to pay her a visit anyway. The e-mail reminder had popped up a while back and she just hadn't gotten around to it yet. Or -

Pausing with that thought as another one hit her, Bobbi shot her husband a slightly amused smirk and a pointed look. "Or maybe we should just let whether or not you can find your pants again now decide."
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Hawkeye
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Clint could almost picture it as clearly as if it was right in front of him. Bobbi. All five foot nine of her. A baby cradled in her arms. Or getting a kid ready for their first day of school. Every other mom thing in the world. She'd be the best, no question about it. When she loved, she loved without reservation. She gave her whole heart to it, and then went out and found more heart. She would care for their children like no other, defend them with the ferocity of a tiger and guide them with patience and wisdom. All that and more, and he wanted to be there when it was real and not just an image in his mind.

"I want to give it my best try, at least, Sport," Bobbi said with a slightly lopsided smile. He didn't question that for a second, and he wanted it, too. So much. All of it. God, it was so strong, so clear. How could he have not seen it until now?

Perhaps part of it was because they both knew how much would have to change. It was something they'd always been aware of, even though the subject had never come up. They would not be able to continue with the Resistance as they had been. Clint's eyes wandered the room as the weight of all they'd have to do settled upon him. And he accepted it for what it was. This was important to them. They wanted it and God damn it, they'd earned it. They would do whatever it took, make whatever changes they needed to have it.

Bobbi was looking right at him when he turned back to face her. She let out a long breath as if she'd been holding it, but there was nothing but conviction in those bright blue eyes of hers. "It's the only way we know how to do it, Babe."

And that had worked out pretty well so far.

He smiled, and then another question came to mind that brought him back to a more pensive mode. It was the one big question left, really. When should they start? He took the time to be careful how he worded that. Something told him he would only be asking for trouble if he'd asked when she wanted to start.

She'd raised one brow in curiosity, but now it drew in and down to nudge its mate. "Now?" she said, sounding a little like someone who'd just been called by their teacher to answer a question when they'd been busy daydreaming out the window. "Tomorrow? Isn't this one've those things that should take care of itself with any luck at all?"

That didn't sound exactly right to Clint. At least, he was pretty sure he remembered their being more to it than that. He opened his mouth slightly, but his brows drew down in a slightly helpless expression as he tried to figure out how to answer that. It reminded him a little of that old joke about the man who prayed all his life to win the lottery, but never bought a ticket. "Some of it?" he finally said.

Bobbi had sort of gone into task mode, however. He could see the wheels turning in her head as she processed and catalogued who knew what. Then it sort of evaporated, replaced by an expression that was oddly amused. She smirked at Clint and gave him a pointed look. "Or maybe we should just let whether or not you can find your pants again now decide."

Clint chuffed a soft laugh and his smile returned just like that. He'd actually managed to forget that he was naked for a second there. "Well when you put it that way," he said with a matching smirk, "I think I just won't look for them." Leaning in, he reached up to cup her cheek with his hand, his thumb under her chin as he gently tilted her toward him and slid his lips over hers.

In this crazy world, sometimes they had to make their own luck. But that, at least, was one of the things he liked about it.
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Mockingbird
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Kids. A family.

Part of her wondered if she deserved that. If she had any right to want it. Years and years ago, before she and Clint had ever even met, she'd walked away from her own. Her mother and her brother. Let them think she'd died in that mess with SHIELD and Nick Fury.

Never looked back.

Sure, she'd done it to protect them and she still didn't regret that. Especially considering how things had gone the last five years. Guess they might know better by now. Having her face and name plastered all over the news and TV with Wanted slapped above it in big bold letters had probably taken care of that. But all the same, she knew that distance had helped keep them safe. Keep them alive and keep Tony and Carol's SHIELD off their doorstep.

Bobbi couldn't help but wonder, though, if they'd ever forgive her for that.

Maybe she'd have to find out, when this was all over. Because, deserve it or not, she did want that family. Her's and Clint's. Wanted to make him a dad. Would do her best to be a mom. A good one. Wanted kids with his smile and who looked at the world with his eyes. Like it was full of good things, amazing things, just waiting to be found.

Wanted to see him holding their first one, baby-talking to it and convinced it would understand him. Wanted to see him teach that kid to use a bow, play baseball, play football. Wanted to see them rolling around on the living room floor and destroying the coffee table and probably a lamp or two playing World Wrestling Federation.

She wanted all of that and damned right they'd do whatever they needed to do to make it happen. It was the only way they knew how to do anything. Straight ahead, full throttle, bulldozing through everything in their way.

Hawk smiled and that was all the agreement they needed. Or Bobbi'd thought it was, right up until he sprung the next question on her. When should they start?

Frowning, she started trying to work that out. Now? Weren't they talking about now? Or tomorrow? Generally, it was something that took care of itself (if they were lucky) as long as they did their part and that wasn't something Mockingbird expected them to have any problem with. It'd never been a problem before now, that was for sure, and the rest was just biology. Her education and subsequent degree in exactly that, even if she didn't use it that much these days but that she still had, said so.

Now Clint was frowning, too, and god. They weren't going to start yelling again, were they?

"Some of it?" he finally said, not doing a thing to stop the mildly confused frown off her face. Some of it? What part of it wasn't he expecting to work by letting nature more or less take it's course? Sure, there were a couple of details to deal with, like a trip up to the infirmary to have Stacy reverse the birth control, or just let it run out on its own, but those were incidentals.

As far as she was concerned, the sooner the better. Or, Bobbi decided as the frown melted away in favor of a smirk, they could just let it ride on whether or not Clint could find his pants again. That seemed appropriate.

Hawk let out a soft laugh, that smile that always did amazing things to her pulse making its way back on his face and getting rid of the confusion there, too. "Well when you put it that way," he said with a matching smirk, "I think I just won't look for them."

Palm against her cheek, he tilted her head up and kissed her, soft press of his lips drifting over hers, and that did even more amazing things to her pulse. Always had and her arm snaked around his neck.

"Rigging the odds, Sport?" she asked her husband, looking into those blue, blue eyes of his and lifting a brow slightly. And smiling. Nobody ever made her smile quite like Clint. "What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?"

Not that she couldn't take a decent guess, but she didn't need to. So she closed the distance and kissed him again. For love, for luck, for whatever else it led to after that.
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Was there some new meaning of the word 'start' nobody had bothered to tell Clint about?

They'd just finished stupidly arguing their way to figuring out what they were starting, so what else could be causing this fresh round of confusion? Now. Tomorrow. Those were genuine answers, at least, although they probably weren't going to get very far if her birth control was a ways from expiring. But it was that last comment about it all taking care of itself that was making Clint start to wonder if they'd somehow managed to wander into different subjects after all.

Either that or his brainy wife with a PhD. in biochemistry wasn't aware that babies didn't just happen. Which was going to make this night a whole lot longer if that was the case.

If he didn't say something quick, though, there were definitely going to start having problems. Feeling a bit cornered, he blurted out the first thing to come to mind, which turned out to be an unconvincing concession that at least some of it happened like that. At least, as long as they did their part.

His wife frowned even deeper. Great, they were back to the start, then, and they could start going around in circles again at any moment. If that happened, Clint wondered if his head really would explode this time.

The wheels were turning in Bobbi's head, now, though. Clint could see her working through the logistics of something and that was probably a good sign. At the very least it wasn't fighting, so he'd take it. Especially when her lips curled up into a definite smirk and she reminded him that he was currently missing his pants.

That had him laughing a little. He felt a bit silly, but that worked for him a lot better than confusion did. And the sight of Bobbi wearing just his shirt was definitely giving him ideas as far as the hunt for his pants went. In fact, he could take care of that part by simply not looking for them.

Kissing her sounded much more appealing right now anyway.

He loved kissing her. Always had, and as their lips met and her arm slipped around his neck, his pulse took a major jump. This was a much better solution as far as he was concerned.

"Rigging the odds, Sport?" Bobbi asked when they broke the kiss, her amazingly blue eyes looking right into his. She arched one slender blonde brow and gave him that relaxed, natural smile that always made him feel like it was for him alone. His pulse began to race even faster.

"You know me, Babe," he said.

"What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?"

Before he could answer, she leaned in and kissed him again, and that made answering seem a lot less important. He sank into the kiss, savoring the taste of her, the way her soft hair brushed against him as the kiss deepened. He shifted over to face her better, one arm reaching around her shoulder and the other moving down to her waist. His fingers brushed against the bottom edge of her shirt.

Actually, his mind was quick to remind him before it got too distracted by other things, that was his shirt. He pulled away a little. The distance so slight their lips still just grazed each other. "Well, you're wearing my sleeves, so..." He slipped his hand under the edge of the shirt and slid it up along her taut stomach, pausing when he reached the swell of her breast. He cupped it as he resumed the kiss, unable to resist a quick smile as he did so. He was still a ways from the sleeves, but he figured it would be okay to take a little detour.

It was all leading to the same place, he figured. Them. Their future. Everything that came with it and all they had to share.
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Who cared where Hawk's pants had ended up?

Didn't matter, she rather just kiss him anyway. Hell, give her a choice most any time, and that's what Bobbi would've picked. Kissing Clint. Well, among other things, but kissing was how the rest started anyway and she hadn't ever been one to skip around in procedure.

Unless it suited her, anyway.

He was already rigging the odds, she decided, opening her eyes to look into Hawk's blue ones, one brow lifting a little. You could take the boy out of the carnival, but you couldn't take the carnival out of the boy. Another thing she'd figured out years ago, but she wouldn't have that any other way, either.

"You know me, Babe," he admitted and yeah, she did. Better than she'd probably known anybody else in her life. Just like he knew her. All of that led naturally the the next question. Clint always had another trick up his sleeve, so what was it this time?

Didn't bother waiting for an answer before she kissed him again. Always the easiest thing in the world and Bobbi knew he could show her just was well as he could tell her and she'd never been any good at keeping her hands off him. Why would she even want to?

That spark, like a thousand electric points, was still right there between them. Just like it'd always been as he turned in toward her, arm wrapping around her shoulders as hers tightened around his neck. His other hand moved to her waist, toyed with the edge of the shirt she'd pulled on.

Bobbi slid in closer, the half-opened her eyes as he pulled back just enough to break that kiss she'd been perfectly happy to lose herself in. "Well, you're wearing my sleeves, so..." He had a point, but even if he hadn't she wouldn't have been complaining about it as his hand slid under the shirt, sliding over her stomach and to her breast and upping her temperature a few degrees in the process.

"That's not the sleeve, Sport," she reminded him absently lips against his as he picked up that kiss where they'd left off, "but go ahead and keep looking." He was smiling and so was she, holding that kiss at the same time, back arching and pulse speeding up.

God, he was good with his hands.

One arm unwrapping from around his neck, her palm settled against that broad, muscled chest and pushed, aiming to get him onto his back. She had a little exploring of her own she wanted to do.

Things worth doing were definitely worth doing right.

[Fade out and continued, I believe, in the meeting of William the next morning]
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