Late Night Thai

October 20, 2015:

Getting takeout on the way home, Jemma crosses paths with Clint

New York


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

Thai. Clint has kind of soured on eastern food what with all the evil ninja and other assorted odd baddies he's run into it kind of lost its charm. Thai though. Thai is good. Clint doesn't get tired of Thai which is why he's at this little mom and pop corner Thai place in Lower East Side. It's not much to look at and the fact that it's cheap is definitely part of the draw, but their sauces are perfect and the noodles? Well, small slice of heaven, really.

Thai. At least this place is close to where Jemma lives and she's got them on speed dial. Having ordered before she left work, she really hopes that it's ready to pick up. She's got things to think on, results to review and right now, she begrudges every minute required to eat and sleep.

Entering the Thai place to be told her order will be at least another fifteen minutes, Jemma sighs… and glances round the interior … sighing even louder when she see's Clint. "Mr Barton." she greets the man, who's seated not far from her, "How are you feeling?" She was going to say injuries… but they are in public…

Clint looks up and gives Jemma a bit of a smile. "Doc. Nice to see you. Have a seat. Pad Thai's good here. I'm fine thanks for asking." He takes another bite. "Didn't expect to see you out of the office. What brings you by?" He's not in costume, that should be telling.

Jemma does take a seat and glances to the counter to make sure they know where she is. He's not in costume, which is why she called him Mr Barton. "The Pad Thai's not bad. Neither is the Massaman." she smiles faintly. "I have to sleep in my bed occassionally or I become a little zombie like." Sure, Jemma might sleep on one of the beds in SHIELD medical, a lot, but she does like her bed … she likes her apartment, even if she doesn't see it as much as she'd like. "I was on my way home and picking up dinner. What about you?"

"Getting dinner out side my own apartment for once. It's a thing that normal people do I hear. And I like to pretend. You never know when knowing how to be normal will come in handy." It sounds like the kind of banter friends might toss back and forth, joking about being normal. For Clint and Jemma it's truth. Normal? Jemma hasn't been that in a long, long time. And Clint hasn't in even longer. "So how's work?"

"Nothing wrong with eating in all the time." Jemma rejoinds in jest "Not so long ago, that's all they did." she shakes her head "Who's to say what is really normal these days?" it's a rhetorical question.

Jemma… probably doesn't know what normal is. Accelerated learning took her out of her age group and … then SHIELD happened. For Jemma … normal is being different.

"Work…" she gives a little shrug "is as busy as usual. Lots happening that requires my focus." the smile is small but genuine. He'll know she can't discuss specifics. "What about you? Any inroads on your investigations?"

"Maybe not but I need to get out to maintain some sanity. Besides…" Clint smirks. "This way I don't have to do the dishes." And his place is always a bit of a mess. Any way to not add to that is a definite plus.

"Some. They all lead east. Madripoor. Can't go there yet, waiting on a few things. Don't think my quary's going anywhere in a hurry but the damage he's doing is problematic. Someone…" Meaning SHIELD. "… should probably look into who is undermining their eastern operations."

Jemma has no idea about Clints living situation and she doesn't want to know however, the sentiment of less dishes is echoed. "Yeah, no dishes is a good thing." Her place isn't a mess, but then she's rarely there.

"We are looking into that." Jemma had raised the issue several weeks ago but had been … diverted with a few things. She sighs "I work for a large organisation, Mr Barton. There are a number of analysts working on the case. It's … just taking some time and I have a few things on the boil." She doesn't want to disrupt his investigation but… conflicting priorities and all. "Have they done anything more since we last spoke of them?"

"You'd know better than I but in the our business no news is almost worse than bad news. Bad news you at least know happened. No news meas you don't know what's happening. And that's much, much more problematic." Clint takes a sip of his soda and another bite. "What other things do you have going on?"

Jemma does, unfortunately, know that no news is not good news and she nods slowly. "Yes, Mr Barton, I do know that." she murmurs as she looks at her hands. "I should say 'things I can't speak about'" She nearly smirks at that … and takes up the chopsticks on her side of the table, snagging a noodle from Clints bowl.

"Instead, I'll say … pretty much the norm … things we don't understand seemingly on the offensive, we're on the back foot playing catch up… trying to work out how to best them. In this case, techo-organic beings who have massive psychic powers." That last… is spoken very quickly.

Clint quirks an eyebrow and rises as he gathers up his takeout. "Well… that's interesting. You know my number if you need a consultation." His consultations tend to involve arrows and bullets but he's been in this business a while. He can offer a lot. "Stay safe in the mean time."

"I do…" Jemma answers as Clint starts to leave "Agent May will call if we need you. Thank you, Mr Barton, for the offer."

Glancing over to the counter. Nope, not ready yet. Which leaves her pretty much as always, waiting alone… thinking about the research she's doing.

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