Atlas Gym, Thursday

[so_hawkward]

Usually, when Clint needed to wind down, he spent some personal time with his bow, but he'd said he'd be at the gym today, so instead, the punching bag was getting the brunt of his frustrations. He should have been in a good mood after finding out that Coulson was alive, but he couldn't stop thinking about all the other people who'd died on the

Comments

[throughaphase]

It was mostly the noise that drew Kitty here on her way to get some practice in- someone hitting a bag tended to be a pretty distinctive noise.

"Did it give you lip?" she asked... from a nice safe distance.

[so_hawkward]

Clint stopped for a moment, putting his hands on the bag to steady it and catch his breath. When he saw it was Kitty who had come in, he put on a smile. "Oh yeah, it was terrible. I'm wounded," he said. "But I think it's learning its lesson. How's it going?"

[throughaphase]

A smile was a good sign when someone was killing a punching bag like that. "You know, same old, same old," she said. "How are you?"

[so_hawkward]

"Not so bad," Clint said nonchalantly, and he tried to make his punches a little lighter this time around. "This place is kind of messed up, you know that?"

[hoorayimrich]

"Does it owe you money?" Hello to you too, Tony.

[so_hawkward]

"I'm trying to see if it's full of candy," Clint replied. A teenaged version of someone else he knew was exactly what he needed right now.

[hoorayimrich]

Deal with it, Hawkass. Deal with it.

"Pretty sure that's pinatas, but keep telling people that. Might make the work harder at punching things."

Because it totally would have worked with him.

[so_hawkward]

"What, you don't think I come across as believable?" Clint asked, managing a smile as he let his head rest against the bag. "What brings you by?"

[longislandiceme]

Apparently it was Clint's day for being harassed by people from different versions of his reality, because, oh, hey, a Bobby.

"Oh," he said, upon spotting Clint. "...You're not-" a cough. "I mean, have you seen Ms, um. Romano- off." Smooth, Bobby. Smooth. Although at least he managed to use 'Romanoff' and not 'Romanova'.

[so_hawkward]

Clint glanced over and leaned against the punching bag. "She's not here at the moment. Can I help you with something?" Probably not, since he didn't have Natasha's hotness, but he'd offer anyway.

[longislandiceme]

"I just wanted to see if she wanted to go a few rounds," he shrugged. "You know. Sparring and that." Yes, a teenager wanted to spar with the Black Widow. What could he say? Running in to her the other day had kind of made him nostalgic. He narrowed his eyes and gave Clint a closer look. He really looked familiar. "Bobby Drake," he introduced himself, holding out a hand.

[so_hawkward]

"Clint Barton," he said, unable to keep from laughing softly as he shook his hand. "You want to spar with Natasha? No offense, but that's probably not a good idea."