003 ✪ text

[redactions]

Who: Jim Barnes
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: nope.
When: Feb 2.

Two questions:

1. Has anyone managed to fix the "modifications" made to our ships a few months ago?

2. Has anyone else found their personal items being sold on this station?

Comments

action!

[vagabond_code]

[The actual "time" part of "supper-time" might have used some clarification. Left to guess, Clint approximates based on the number of hours that have passed since he woke up. He reaches the Heron's hanger without incident, gets out of his shuttle once it's safe to do so. Not a bad parking job, when he looks back at it. Should he wait here to be received? Was there any chance they'd missed his arrival? What was the protocol here?]

I come in peace.

[He says, lamely, in the general direction of the corridor to the Heron's interior.]

[redactions]

You forgot "take me to your leader".

[ There's dry amusement in his voice as he emerges from the corridor, lines of it on his face. Jim eyes him, taking in the physical differences. He's a little blonder, older, and somewhat more tired around the eyes, but it's still recognisably Barton. ]

[vagabond_code]

[Except some of those words preceded the lips that spoke them, which made things difficult. At any rate Clint took this as an invitation to come aboard, so to speak, and closed the distance between them.]

What's that?

[redactions]

It's a joke.

[ Oh, so very dry, but he's smiling faintly at Clint. ]

We had 'em in the 40s too.

[vagabond_code]

You know what I should have said? Knock knock.

[redactions]

Who's there?

[vagabond_code]

[Dammit Jim he's a marksman not a comedian -- he doesn't actually have a knock-knock joke prepared. The fact that he was coming inside was basically already the whole joke.

Now he's gotta think on his feet.]

Interrupting starfish?

[redactions]

[ In Clint's defence, Jim does snort. ]

Seriously? Okay, interrupting starfish who?

[vagabond_code]

[Before the man can finish, Clint puts his hand over Jim's face. Just.. right up in his face. Fingers splayed, palm-over-mouth. Good thing he has clean hands.

And once he does it, he immediately regrets it.]

[redactions]

[ Jim catches Clint's hand at the wrist, lightly — he himself doesn't like restraints and archers are sensitive about their hands. ]

Some punchline.

[vagabond_code]

Well you kinda ruined it.

[He isn't bitter though - overall it went better than he expected.]

[redactions]

And here I thought you never missed.

[ he's hilarious, Clint. Anyway, the kitchen. There's a large table for a crew of ten, plus one guest. Jim gestures in its direction, Clint can sit anywhere he likes. ]

You in the mood for steak, or soup?

[vagabond_code]

[Actually that was pretty funny. Clint took a seat, as instructed, on the side of the table closest to where he guessed Jim would be spending most of his time.]

Soup. What kind of soup?

[No matter what the answer was, there was no way he was going to take from what he assumed must be very limited stores of meat.]

[redactions]

They translated it as some kind of fish; I got the stock from the last planet we were on.

[ lightly, ]

Hope you're not allergic to alien food.

[vagabond_code]

How would I know?

[A shrug. Then, a raising of both eyes.]

What if you were allergic to the standard gels and powers? Can you imagine?

[redactions]

[ He places the bowl in front of Clint, as well as cutlery, and the soup pot is heating on the small stove. ]

You know, I'll manage.

[ #supersoldier life. ]

[vagabond_code]

[Clint avoided the urge to pick up his knife before the food arrived.]

Is it just us?

[redactions]

[ Jim sits opposite, wiping his hands on the towel carefully. ]

Yeah. Unless you want my better half, too.

[vagabond_code]

Better half?

[redactions]

You've met the other James Barnes, right?

[vagabond_code]

Not face-to-face, but yeah. That has to be...

...wild.

[redactions]

Seein' double is wild, now?

[vagabond_code]

Not much wilder than pym particles I guess, but wilder than a hot-dog. There's got to be a scale.

[Granted Clint wouldn't complain if there was another Hawkeye sitting beside him, but another Clint Barton? It would take some getting used to.]

[redactions]

My scale is zero to aliens.

[ He's old-fashioned. Sue him. ]

[vagabond_code]

That's alien-people.

Alien-fish get a pass.

[What about alien fish-people? Clint had been on the communicator with what looked like some sort of orange octopus-head-girl. She seemed normal enough.]