M-Town Meet and Greet

June 21, 2015:

Hawkeye and Hawkeye hold a BBQ for the JL:A in M-Town.

M-Town

District X, also known as the less politically correct yet more popular
coined Mutant Town is a very unique Burroughs located between Alphabet City
and the Bowery of Lower Manhattan.

M-Town's famous (and infamous) for hosting one of the largest concentrated
populations of 'muties' in all of the United States and quite possibly the
world. This collection of metahumans isn't just those hosting the X-Gene but
many others who have found it easier to get by in a world rampant with a
lack of understanding and fear for the unknown. The very real unknown.

It's population boom began in the mid to late 90's after the X-Gene was
isolated and hate crimes against mutants and metahumans had almost become an
epidemic. The District X location was already nestled in a major cradle of
immigration from outside countries. This clustering of families and
community from allover the world had many subcultures and secrets, a secret
very few knew but overtime it developed in to what we now call Mutant Town.

No longer just a subculture or collection of assorted various subcultures
but it's very own enclave of metahumans, muties, freaks and outcasts.

This massive enclave has only grown in leaps and bounds, the Morlock
Massacre ten years ago attributed to this as has recent events.

To the outside world M-Town is seen as a dangerous ghetto full of
human-hating mutates, crime, prostitution, narcotics, illiteracy,
unemployment, overcrowding and violence. It has been listed as one of the
most dangerous places to live in the world several times over. Although
true, this does not mean it's incapable for people to live there or maintain
a happy life.

Quite the opposite really, M-Town is full of diversity and oddities the
outside world could only dream of, District X is the center of fringe
movement and cutting edge fashion, food, design and even some technology.
The cultural influence of the residents along with their unique abilities
aids in making Mutant Town one of the most progressive, liberal minded,
innovative, unique places in the world. Old School Total Recall has nothing
on M-Town.

Due to the diversity of District X and it's pro-mutant stance New York City
and the SRD have had a hard time keeping any form of law enforcement within
it's territories (SRD or 'MRD' come in hot or not at all - they have a
tendency to disappear in this neck of the woods). Due to this crime is a
major factor of concern and about 90% of all illicit activity is controlled
by organized crime families. Life within District X had largely been Wild
West rules up until two years ago when the 11th Precinct of the NYPD was
established.

Though small this specialized task force of police officers is a collection
of some of the toughest, meanest, hardiest law enforcement professionals the
city has to offer, as a golden rule they follow the motto, "Expect the
Unexpected" which in M-Town, these are words to live by.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

It's a fine, sunny day in New York. Even in M-Town, people are out and about. With all the anti-mutant sentiment that's been going around lately, and all the anti-JL:A sentiment that came before it, Kate decided that a little bit of solidarity was in order. It's not a largely publicized event, but there were a few notices in local papers. Kate's in uniform, and she's set up a few tables and a portable BBQ in one of the neighborhood parks. Free hot dogs and burgers? Well, sometimes the way to people's hearts is through their stomachs.

"Well I'm glad you could come out," she's saying to a girl with blue skin, her smile warm. "We just wanted to let people know we're here for everyone. You've got our number if you ever get into trouble, right?"

The red and black 1970 Challenger is sitting slightly behind and partially popped onto the curb nearby, car door open and available for anyone who wanted to take a look inside. Old, classic cars are still a popular draw for those who used to actually own one when they were still common on the road and for those motorheads that 'heard' about them and saw them only in the muscle car magazines. There, behind the car, a quickly growing golden ball of energy in the form of a dog is barreling past a small gathering in his manic need for a thrown rubber ball.

Clint's not in uniform; he's dressed down for the occasion with a dark purple t-shirt, blue jeans and his Converse sneakers. His argument? Be accessible. Well, and it's too hot for leather. But, he does have his bow and arrow leaning against a table; an offering once again as a conversation starter. He's manning the burger pit, though he's not doing too well at it.

"Aww…" sounds as a partial burger slips through the grill and lands on the smouldering charcoal. "I'll just get another one for you…"

Having a place in Mutant-town seems to have been a good idea…for the time being. Most leave him alone and the fact that he comes and goes at all hours doesn't seem to concern his neighbors. It's a neighborhood of those who aren't wanted. It's also a neighborhood of people who don't try into other people's affairs.

Perfect.

When he got notice of the event, well…curiosity was piqued. And free food. Who doesn't want free food?

It's the car, however, that catches his attention and instead of making his way to the food line, he's paused over by the car, peering through the windows at the interior and obviously appreciating the sleek line of the car.

Mutant Town, being what it is, is a place Tigra can normally wander around without standing out much more than the ones living here. The truth about her is..complicated..but the fact remains she's checking out the event or whatever it actually is, watching from a usual place to begin with: a rooftop.

With the archers noted, one of them helping produce tasty smells from the grill, the feline with the stripes makes her way down a fire escape to the alley below, crossing the street to approach. Safe to say she's easy to spot as a standout even amid the mutants that congregate.

"Okay, great," Kate grins when the girl nods. "Now don't lose it." The girl steps away, and Kate looks over toward the grill with a wry smile at the telltale sound of…Well, Clint being Clint. "You okay over there?" she calls over, teasing. Tigra's arrival catches her attention, a smile flashing, but she doesn't call any attention to the woman. The goal was to get the residents of the neighborhood to feel safe coming out, and it looks like it's working.

"Hey. 440, V8." Inside, the interior of the 2-door does look like it's seen better days, but it's also obvious that there is an attempt being made to get it back. Three-speed, stick on the floor, it does look very much the speedster it was supposed to be. "Ever drive one?"

Clint's not really paying attention to the burgers, and the piece of meat that dropped finally catches fire, and there's a small fat-fire in the bottom of the grill. Shifting the replaced burger so it doesn't char, he's back to 'cook' duty. "Yeah… fine." A moment later, Clint mutters, "Just great." Putting the broken burger off to the side gingerly, with his dangerous looking spatula, he whistles.

The whistle is responded to almost immediately, and the run for the ball is aborted with a quick feint, and HawkNoLongerPuppy barrels towards the grill at full bore.

Incoming!

"Not this particular one, no," Jason offers, giving the top of the car a light caress before he takes his hand back. "You restoring it? And you have it out here as a good-faith gesture or something? Because if you turn your back for too long it might get stolen…or at least stripped of the tires." He's sort of grinning as if he may have had that thought.

Blue eyes flick over to the grill, "Do you need help with that? I mean…maybe some here can eat the charcoal…not a favorite of mine though." Or is the glowy dog going to start grilling? Sometimes this place can be really weird.

"Something smells good. What's cookin'?" Tigra wonders, and if some of Mutant Town's residents act uncertain or apprehensive around the visitors, she's quite the opposite. This one seems self-confident, comfortable, sure of herself, and even friendly.

The energetic dog does draw a curious expression as it races right for the grill, and Tigra finds herself giving it a short but playful-sounding growl in hope of distracting it before it does something like burning down the entire block as part of a chain reaction.

"We can swap out if you want," Kate offers with a low laugh, stepping over toward Clint and the grill to see how many burger corpses have been turned into offerings to the gods. "I could probably use a break." She unzips her jacket, shrugging out of the leather and kevlar in favor of the tank top beneath it. As the dog comes barreling toward them, she lets out a sharp whistle, holding up one hand at her hip in a stop motion.

Tigra's question gets a grin. "Well, we've got burgers and hot dogs, but it might be a few more minutes before burgers are up again. Someone keeps adding charcoal."

"It's that whole good-faith thing, and if someone jacked it up onto blocks?" Clint looks aside to Jason with a ghost of a smile, "I'd say that that's not very friendly-like. It didn't even get hit when it was in Bed-Stuy." Granted, he -paid- for a garage, but it's still technically Brooklyn! Digging into a pocket, Clint studies the other man before pulling out keys. "Start her up. And restoring it, but it's also what I drive, when I can."

So keen is the golden lab to pay attention to 'commands' given, the moment Kate's hand comes up and a 'stop' whistle is given, he puts on the brakes. It's not all that easy to break the momentum, however, and fuzzy butt flies over head and the less-than-graceful adolescent dog rolls a couple of times becoming a furry bowling ball.

"Hey!" Clint's got his attention on a few different things, and with the offers, he looks back to see Tigra. His attention lingers for a few long heartbeats before Kate's peeling off of leathers manages to distract him once again.

"What? Oh.. yeah…" The spatula can be passed!

"Take it to Gotham and I'm sure it'll disappear…" is started but then the keys are offered. There's a look between the keys and the man, "Seriously?" And Jason just came here for a burger! Well, that was unexpected. The keys are taken slowly before he moves to the driver's side to sit in the seat and start up the engine. He might be able to stop himself from revving it a little.

"I'll have two of each," Tigra declares, or requests, whichever fits bets. The food and JL:Avengers people are getting a bit more of her attention in spite of the rolling dog and the other visitor checking out the car, which she appears to have no interest in.

Lacking pockets to stuff her hands into, the tigress places them at her hips, her striped tail swaying slowly in back. "So what's going on with all this? Just one of those community outreach kinds of things? I was thinking of trying to get in touch with a few of you. My name's Tigra."

Kate crouches down to intercept the dog-ball, smile crooked as she checks him out for any actual injuries. "You could use a chill pill, buddy," she chuckles, ruffling at his ears and giving his side a good pat once she's sure he's in good shape. "Two hot dogs and two burgers it is," she grins to Tigra as she straightens. "Nice to meet you, Tigra. I'm Kate, this is Clint," she points a thumb toward the other archer as she takes the spatula. "And you've got it. We're just stopping in, letting people know we're here." She eyes the car, surprised Clint's letting someone else turn it on, but most of her attention's on Tigra.

"Been there. Take it anywhere in Jersey and it'll disappear." What? Does Clint not like Jersey? The sound of the car starting brings that ghosted smile back even as he hands over the spatula. Of course, the engine's start does gain a little more attention now, moreso with the older teen boys than anyother. Maybe one, two girls, but not really.

With the dog's immediate problems sorted out, he shakes his dust covered body, sending out a cloud of dirt before his tongue lolls out and follows Kate happily. "Aw, c'mon…" Clint complains, though it's half-hearted. "I was gonna give you.. nevermind." The archer looks back at Jason before he talks to Tigra. "No loyalty." Beat. It takes him another half-moment before he can actually form words again- Tigra's not half bad looking, for a tiger… person. "Pleasure. And would love to talk to you about it." There's a pause when he glances at Kate and finishes, "Or she can…".

He could take the car. He could just take the car and drive off with it. They might be able to track him, but they might not…these people don't -seem- powered, but that's one way to get an entire neighborhood caring who you are. Jason sits behind the wheel for a few moments, presses the gas pedal — but it's never shifted out of 'Park'. After another moment or two, the engine is cut off and Jason gets out of the car. The keys are tossed to Clint, "I bet she's a sweet ride," and he glances between him and the woman now manning the grill. Hm. "Surprised she lets you keep it."

Some people are just that astute.

He saunters over towards the grill and smirks, "I'll take one of -your- burgers…not a fan of ash flavor." Hey, if the other guy is talking to Tiger-girl, he doesn't want this one to get lonely.

Tigra continues keeping part of her attention on the dog, just in case it decides to come over and check her out. The sound of the engine running, revved or not, just leads to her speaking up a bit more while rubbing at one of her ears. "Good, and I can talk to both of you just as easily."

She flashes Clint a smile that reveals the fangs, but it's not exactly a predatory look. "Free food is a nice way to make some new fans, if anyone's on the fence. Anyhow, I've been around the city for a little bit. I don't know how you guys usually handle this stuff, but I'm thinking of trying to find others like me to work with. I've got a little experience with this sort of thing, and I'm building up some contacts. I hope you're not big on resumes, though. I haven't updated mine in a while."

Jason draws a closer glance from the cat-woman. Likely, she's trying to figure out what she thinks of him at first sight.

"Others, too?" Kate perks up a bit at Tigra's words, smile flashing as she puts the food on the grill. "I've been slowly working on building up some things, actually. The League's not everyone's cup of tea, but the world's a better place if we're not out there working alone, too. I've just been a little busy lately," she adds ruefully, glancing over to Jason when he comes over. "Just one?" she asks, adding another to the grill. "I can't promise they'll actually be any better," she grins. "Just that I'm less likely to get distracted." CoughClintCough.

Of course Jason could possibly put the car into first, assuming he can drive a standard. The chances are good, however, that he simply wouldn't get anywhere quickly; that much horsepower in first gear means unless one knows how to use the gas pedal, all that would happen is that tires would spin and the backend would swing around until there was some purchase. By then, either of the archers could deal with the problems that come along with a car-jacking.

"I'm not usually the cook. Steve cooks some mean burgers, or so I've heard." Rumours as far as Clint's concerned! "But she gets mad when I wear the 'kiss the cook' apron." Uh huh.

"Free food is a whole lot better than going on about all the good we've done around the world for pretty much everyone. No one would believe that because of all the bad spin we've been getting." Clint wipes his hands on his jeans and steps back and to the side, hanging a little more by the condiment table. "We've all pretty much got unique skills, and hers," he thumbs over towards Kate, "she's a people person." He just shoots things.

Clint's expression gets a touch… grumbly and brows rise. "Not always. Just… sometimes."

Jason Todd certainly knows how to drive standard…he knows how to drive pretty much anything that has wheels. Or a motor. Thanks, Batman. But he has no reason to be a dick to these guys. Not yet, at least. They're actually doing something pretty decent in this neighborhood. "Just one. For now." See, he can be decent if he chooses to be. "What you guys are doing…while I'm not sure it will work, showing these guys kindness and that people actually think about them…it means something." And with that, he'll take his burger and move off to the side.

"You probably wouldn't like my cooking, depending on what kind of tastes I have," Tigra quips, but she's still spending most of her time dealing with the conversation at hand, brushing her hair back behind a shoulder. "So what's been going on with the bad press? I've missed some of the news."

As for Kate, the tigress gives her a little more attention again as she adds, "It's not as easy to deal with certain things on your own. I like my alone time as much as anyone, but even I understand that. I'm just thinking about what I can help do more with others involved."

"Thanks," Kate smiles warmly after Jason. "I'm glad to hear it." With the food on the grill, she's free to keep her attention on Tigra and Clint. "What's your number?" she asks the other woman, pulling out her phone. "I've been hearing from a lot of people who have the same sort of thoughts. I'd love to have a chance to get everyone together, see what you all think about things. Whether that's the league, or something new."

Once she's pulled up the contact screen, she offers it over. "There were some JL:A members on scene when the president was assassinated," she explains. "And there's been some…disagreement about what that meant. And about what it's going to mean in the future."

Tigra glances down to check for her phone before realizing she - once again - does not have it on her. "Um, it's a newer number and I don't know if I've remembered it all yet." She tries reciting it as she thinks she has it, but adds, "If that's wrong, I do have a Facebook page under 'Tigra.' Just..don't put too much into the picture. It wasn't meant to be serious." She offers a partial smile. If Kate or Clint do look, the image is one of a surprised Tigra with a feather toy in her mouth, apparently snapped by a friend.

"Oh..yeah. That. I don't know if you can do anything about what some people are going to say about that. Ahh, I've got a little bit of a detective background, anyway. I used to be around Chicago and some parts of California. You can probably guess what I'm good at."

Clint gets his keys back and nods at the younger man. "Well, if nothing else, it at least puts a face to the names in the press." He's been reasonably clean in terms of getting into the news, for the most part, if only for a passing reference here and there. He's been busy doing 'other things' away from the US; places that have started invading his dreams, so spectacularly horrifying the scenes that had laid before him.

"If nothing else, too, it could be something of a clearing house. I mean, the League is really important. What it stands for is really important. I'm not looking to replace it; not without a fight, anyway." And this coming from a man who, in the past, had been able to simply walk away. "Collecting names of people who think the same way, even if it's not in line with the League precisely, isn't a bad thing."

Now, with most of that out of the way, the normally quiet(er) Hawkeye futzes with the table, tossing an errant fry in the dog's direction, earning a jump for his troubles.

Kate punches in the number, tucking her phone away after. "I'll keep it in mind," she nods to Tigra, flipping the burgers with a sizzle on the grill. "There are a lot of people out there looking to do good things in the world. Looking to make a difference. If everyone joined the league, though, we'd end up with an army of powered people, and I'm pretty sure no one's really equipped to handle that," she says with a wry smile. "On the other hand? I've definitely been thinking we need more organization than we've got. Training. Teams. All of that."

Tigra begins to sniff in the direction of the grill again, swallowing for one reason or another as she wipes at the corner of her mouth, tailtip darting side to side. "Hmm? Oh, right. Good things. And I don't know who will be the best fit for me yet, so I'm not exactly applying on the spot. I'm just trying to build up some contacts, since I don't have many right now. If it turns into something, all the better."

She crosses her arms in front of her, taking on a more casual stance as she listens to what Clint says, nodding slowly. "You never know who you might need an extra hand from. Some of the things I'm good at, I wouldn't be as good at others."

"Yeah, not everyone should be League, and that's okay. There's some stuff in it that some might not like- like the 'no kill' thing. We're not 'revenge' and we're not a judge, jury and executioner. Nor are we someone's attack dog." All the things that are bugging Clint about perceptions. "Or someone's lap dog." There. "We don't do everything and we're not something for everyone." Contacts are good. Doesn't mean they all should be 'on the team'.

Clint glances back at Kate and nods; obvious that he's got his aids in today. "Yeah, and we'll get there. Just actually need to have a lull in all the stuff going on in the world is all. Breaks are hard to come by, so people who are at least a little flexible are good."

"I know Captain Marvel's looking for people, actually," Kate adds, pulling the hot dogs off the grill first and offering them over to Tigra. "And Sir Ystin's also looking for make some connections. There was another guy when the solar giant thing went down, I think he said he'd been with SHIELD? Who else?" she muses, brows furrowing slightly. "I'll have to check my stuff. All of which is to say, I would be thrilled to introduce you around, Tigra," she smiles warmly back at the woman.

"Or attack cat," Tigra tells Clint, offering her own specific spin on the phrase with a sniff that could be perceived as haughty. Cats. "But..no, I get it. There are a lot of reasons why someone may be good or bad for a certain group, definitely."

As Kate cycles through a few names, Tigra nods slowly and doesn't show whether or not she seems to recognize any of them. "I did meet someone who's involved with SHIELD, but I don't know if I want a government job. I'd like to meet whoever you might be thinking of, though. The city's basically my new home now." Oh, and she eagerly chows down on that first hot dog, reducing it to nothing in short order.

Okay, that's only one name Clint recognizes, and with the 'Sir Y… whatever', he's back with, "Bless you."

Now, this really is more Kate's thing that his own, and now that he's said pretty much all he's going to on the matter, he lets the girls continue. There are pretzels to be grabbed, and the occasional chip. One of those pretzels gets flung towards the dog again, and the golden lab makes the valiant effort to jump for it, spinning in the air.

"I'll definitely set something up, then," Kate nods to Tigra, looking over her shoulder as Clint tosses food to the dog. "You know, I'd accuse you of making him fat, but it's not like we don't get him plenty of exercise," she grins, finishing up the burgers and passing them over to Tigra as well. Once that's done, she's moving over to wrap her arms around Clint's waist from behind, pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. "This is nice," she sighs contentedly. "So, private investigator stuff, you said?" she asks Tigra.

Tigra studies the interaction between Clint and the dog, unable to resist a tease. "Don't think it'll be as easy to get me to do tricks like that." Definitely a playful darting of the tail following that, then her fingers and claws curl around one of the burgers she's been handed. "Thanks!" Not even bothering with much of the condiments, she's more about stuffing her face just this moment.

Once that's done, she saves the other burger and hot dog for a minute or two later, or at least until after a few more questions have been answered. "I'm around, so..yeah. And I did a little independent detective stuff. I..well, I had a husband who was a cop." It seems to be a sensitive topic, as she turns more inwardly protective given her body language and guarded expression.

"Naw, he won't get fat," Clint agrees. "He even gets exercise chasing squirrels in his sleep." Kicking him and waking him up at night since getting back. (When did he start sleeping in the bed, anyway?)

The moment Clint feels the warmth of Kate behind him and the arms wrap about him, he leans back slightly as a shifting of expression comes. He's content. This is a long way from the dark of Africa and the bloodied, sacrificed children. Shifting, he brings an arm around Kate's back, holding her close. A single hand forms the words, 'Missed this' in Sign.

To hear the history, brows rise and Clint sounds a low tone, "Was? I'm sorry?" No sound of 'ex-husband' in there, so the worst is assumed. "So you're coming by it honestly, as it were?"

"I'm sorry," Kate says quietly, sympathetic. For a moment, her arms are a little tighter around Clint. She knows more or less what he's up to when he's not home with the league, and she knows perfectly well the sorts of dangers that comes with for people who don't have any special powers outside of being too stubborn to back down. "I can see where that would lead you to pick up some new skills of your own."

For her part, Tigra glances down at one of the tables that was set up at the small park, making a point of looking at various bits of info during some of this part of the conversation. "Yeah, thanks. You know it can happen, but you always think it'll happen to someone else. He never liked cats anyway, so maybe it's a good thing I wasn't this way before it happened." Talk about one of the most forced jokes in the history of ever, and even she looks and sounds awkward trying to deliver it. "Sooo..right. Coming by it honestly? What do you mean?"

"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have thrown you out for shedding…" Oops. No filter? Clint leans over to kiss the top of Kate's head. It's a quick gesture, but genuine. "Well, what I mean is that some things happen by osmossis. You hear about it over and over during the course of a day, an evening, and conversations start. 'How did you catch that guy?' 'Oh, he left fibers from his car..' as opposed to suddenly deciding that's what you wanted to do and went out and just started cold." Not all communication in a relationship has to do with fights.

There's a glimmer of curiosity in Kate's features when Tigra reveals she wasn't born as she is, but Kate's too polite to just ask. At least not yet. Cats need space, after all. Clint gets an elbow for his comment, though, along with a fond roll of her eyes. "Sorry, don't mind him. Sometimes things just fall right out of his mouth. Sometimes they're even charming, though," she adds with a small smile, giving him a squeeze before stepping back toward the grill.

Tigra digs into what's left of the food she asked for. If nothing else, there's been a tasty meal to come from this encounter. Contrary to what Clint and Kate might think of his comment about shedding and how it could be taken by her, she genuinely laughs. Just once but it counts. "Heh..and I guess it was a little of both. We did talk, but I decided to do more after..things, too." Regardless, the motion of her tail - or more currently the lack of it - is a window into certain things that might be missed from the average person. "And then other things happened, I became what I am, and here we are."

Aw, c'mon, Kate. When did that filter come in? He hasn't been away that long, has he? "Ow…" rises and he squirms, though he doesn't look to get out from Kate's arm. Ah, hell no.

And see? Tigra laughed. No harm, no foul. She couldn't be that sensitive about the way she looks. After all, if she was, she'd be in trench coat, hat, dark glasses, the works. Assuming she'd come out of doors at all during the day!

"'Sometimes.'" Clint quotes. "Okay, maybe once in awhile. You should see me at press conferences, or fancy dress dinners."

Clint does let her go, and he shifts such that he's leaning a little more on the condiment table. "And you're where you are today." He's no reader of cats- Dog person, right here! "What happened? I mean, couldn't have been a spider, or a really bad lab accident. Tiger bite you?" If Kate's not going to pry, he will! Then she can blame it on him, no muss no fuss.

When Clint pries, Kate signs quickly back at him. « Clint! You can't just ask people something like that! » But hey, at least she's not yelling at him. If he's not looking, he might even miss it. On the other hand, she wouldn't mind hearing the answer, either. She's busy, though, handing out hot dogs and hamburgers in the name of building trust with the local community.

Today, there is a limit to how much Tigra will freely speak of, and that limit has been reached. "No, it wasn't from a bite. Maybe I'll tell you next time." The last of her food is taken care of, and as others from Mutant Town show up to ask questions, eat, and find out what they can about this visit, she uses it as an excuse to bow out. "You've got my number. Time for me to get going. Thanks for the food." The pair are offered a brief smile, one that isn't /too/ forced, and she moves on through the park to move on to another part of the city.

Clint could tell anyone exactly why he's the way he is; alcoholic, abusive father, passive mother. Orphan at a young age (but old enough to know!) and foster home run-away and tutelage under bad-guys. Since then? Uphill climb to where he is, and he's still climbing.

He doesn't seem to know that he's reached a limit, or rather, it doesn't really phase him. At least it wasn't, 'Get lost, creep..' and little to no promise of ever communicating again. Clint can easily blame it on the seemingly steady supply of mutants gathering and departing their table.

"Thanks, Tigra. Yeah, Kate's got it, and looking forward to talking again." He'll find out how… because that TAIL. *cough*

"Take care, Tigra," Kate calls after the other woman, before reaching back to give Clint a bit of a whap with the back of her hand. "You're lucky the whole world can see that you just don't think about it before you start talking," she shakes her head, smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "Otherwise people might think you're some kind of jerk or something."

"Aw, what? You know you wanted to know too. If she took it badly, you could blame it on me. Good cop, bad cop." Clint, genius? Nah. Just nosy.

The table of BBQ, hot dogs and hamburgers courtesy of the JL:A as part of a community outreach program is getting some good reviews; just ask the kids with mustard smeared on their shirts happily playing with HawkDog. The 1970 red and black Challenger is decidedly something of a draw, and the chances are good that people will at least talk about it for a day. Maybe.

Come sundown, the tables are taken away, cards, phone numbers and acquaintences are begun- here's hoping lines of communication are opening.

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