The DEO Are Making A List

December 07, 2015:

Clint calls friends together to share information with them.

Metropolis

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

Sometimes Clint really doesn't have any kind of ulterior motive. He enjoys a good sit down lunch with friends as much as anyone else and he's busy enough these days even outside of SHIELD that he doesn't get many chances to do it. So while he's in Metropolis, near the Halls, he gave Kate a call to see if she and any of the other JL:A folks might not want to come get crepes. Because Crepes are awesome. And because he happens to know that Jemma Simmons is in the area at a conference, he sent out an invite to her too. The JL:A may not have a formal connection to SHIELD anymore but there's still a few agents - Simmons, May, Dugan, Romanov - that he thinks are worth knowing.

Of course he's doing homework while he waits. Paging through a manilla folder witha lot of info on the DEO and it's… operations. And sipping at a lemonade…


"Y'know, Clint, next time you mass text an invitation for 'crepes,' you might want to double-check your autocorrect," Sam Wilson says, raising his eyebrows as he slides into the booth across from the archer. He lets that sink in for a second, then gives his teammate a broad grin. "So how's it going? I've seen Kate around a lot, but you seem to have been pretty scarce lately. Hope you haven't been getting yourself into trouble. Well, more trouble than usual." A mock-dark look crosses his face. "If you're in more trouble than usual… well, God help us all."


"I am at my limit for apocalypse…es. Apocali? What's the plural of apocalypse? It probably doesn't have one because it's only supposed to happen once, and yet, this is our life," Kate smirks as she joins Sam and Clint at the table, clapping a hand to Clint's shoulder. "Hey, Sam, Clint. How's it going?"


Jemma most certainly was at a conference but how Clint knew that… well he was a spy and very good at the job. Then again, she's been finding herself in some tight spots lately and the last one - Clint had extracted her from.

"Hello Sam, Clint, Kate" the British born biochem greets the pair, as she approaches the table a rather heavy looking messenger bag on her shoulder. Needless to say it will contain her laptop and probably a couple of folders - conferences are good for generating 'guff'. "I wouldn't say more trouble than usual, Sam." she adds as she too, joins the group at the table.


Clint looks up and grins as Sam, then Kate comes in. "Sorry, was doing it right handed." Suuuuuure he was. Or did he know that it'd get to Sam just a bit? Kate gets a bit more of a reaction, standing up to give her a hug. "Well luckily for you I don't have any more apocalypses on tap. Just doing a bit of light reading." He gestures to what looks like activity reports for the DEO.

"Ah hello Simmons. You've met Kate and Sam right? I forget who's been introduced to who." And you know, robot.


"Met her? I picked so many interdimensional cyborgs off her back, they had to give me a frequency card," Sam answers with a laugh, waving to the newcomers. "Hiya, Kate, Jemma. This had better not be an apocalypse thing again — I just came with cash for lunch." The flier pats his pockets as though expecting to find a spare set of wings there. "That'd just be typical. World coming to an end and all I've got to go after the Antichrist with is a keychain and a Mastercard." He shakes his head and laughs. "Priceless."


"Should've brought Visa. It's everywhere you want to be," Kate grins at Sam. When Clint pulls her in for a hug, she returns the gesture, wrapping her arms tight around the other archer. She holds on just a moment longer than would be simply friendly, but she pulls back after, awkward. "Hey, Jemma." And then, because boundaries aren't really a thing, she goes to flip through Clint's folder. "When did you start working with the DEO?"


"Yes, I know them." Jemma has the good grace to look sheepish as Sam mentions interdimensional cyborgs. With her messenger bag placed on the floor by her feet she watches Kate greet Clint, a small smile gracing her lips.

"And I'm sure, Sam, you'll have something clever to do with that." She had seen him take down a Psyborg with just a manhole cover, recently. "DEO? You're working with the DEO, Clint?"


"Oh good. So everyone knows everyone." Clint grins as he (finally) releases the hug and finds his seat again… as Kate appropriates his folder. "I'm not working for the DEO, I'm watching them. They reminded me of something. Time was, way back when, when parts of SHIELD were talking about the need to take 'special measures' when it comes to more than normal people. They developed protocols and proceedures and gamed up a lot of scenarios. I was looking to see how similar it was."

Kate can see personnel, movements, office openings, recruitment, he's even gotten some of the more public parts of their policy and regulations. It's fairly draconian stuff. Legal, sure, but ever so slightly Orwellian.

"It's… a bit close for comfort. Not gonna say they cribbed it but it's enough to make me wonder. These are people who think that even folks like the three of us here…" Not meaning Jemma there. "… are maybe a bit 'extraordinary' for comfort."


Just slightly and just for a moment, Sam raises an eyebrow at Kate and Clint's awkward parting, but decides not to comment. Valor, better part of, et cetera.

"Actually, I just remembered, Tony's been tinkering with the wings again," he says instead, pulling the aforementioned keychain out of his pocket. He holds up a key fob, ordinary-looking except for a gunmetal sheen and the Stark logo etched on the side. "Long-range homing. Takes time depending on distance, obviously, but handy. No more getting stuck with a manhole cover and a prayer." He gives Jemma a look just as sheepish as her own. "Or any variety of credit card," he adds with a more good-humored smile at Kate.

It's in that vein that he reacts to Clint's comments about the DEO. Leaning back, stretching his arm across the top of the seat back, and giving a nonchalant shrug, he answers, "Well, I was in the damn military. The Air Force designed the suit. They know who I am, where I work, and what I can do." He pauses, then smirks and allows, "Well, the basics, from before Tony started tinkering." He shrugs again, then looks back down at the menu. "That oughta be enough for them."


"Totally understandable. I'd be intimidated by me, too," Kate smirks as she takes a seat, though she's looking things over still. And more seriously than she'd admit, for that matter. "The guy we dealt with was definitely an ass," she shrugs. "And this is a safer plan than the registration act was, too. In terms of people not protesting, at least. Keeps it more limited to people who're doing something, rather than people who are born different." Sam's comment gets a quirk of her brow, curious. "Sounds handy. I've lost track of how many times I've had to run for my bow."


Jemma doesn't seem to notice anything about Kate and Clints parting as unusual… she'd been the one to break the news about Clint-bot to Kate. She might have a different perspective on that interaction - it could well be wrong though.

Sams sheepish look and admission brings a faint smile "That's good to know the next time I get into a bind." yes, she's sure there'll be a next time.

As Clint explains she looks concerned but smiles faintly at Kates quip. She was involved in setting up The Index … and keeping it up to date. She understands why people think they need it, but the potential for abuse … is staggering. "What else have you worked out, Clint?"


"Oh nothing much. Certainly not like I've been spying on them or anything like that." Well… this is Clint. It's entirely possible that he's been busy with other things. Oooooooor it's entirely possible that he's actually been, you know, spying on them.

"Well, maybe not you Kate. Who gets intimidated by a bow and arrow these days?" He's totally teasing. And totally expecting to get punched for that. Which he'll deserve to be sure. Falcon's look gets a 'what?' look in return. He and Kate are still a thing. Clint certainly enjoys that. Even if he is occasionally awkward. It's the one thing he's never been particularly good at.

You can ask his exes. Or on second thought, don't. Still he's not shown any particular inclination to be 'Clintish' with Kate…

"I hear Stark's in the custom armor business these days too. Maybe you can get him to work up something for you Kate. I've been looking into, uh, that problem myself. I'll let you know if anything comes of it."


Agent May arrives late. For anyone that knows her, that means she got detoured by something that could not wait, and she's likely displeased about it. At least she's good enough to not let her annoyance at other things show here. She's her usual Spockian self, and is wearing the silvery grey scarf that Howard Stark made for her.

What? It's warm.


"Well, the wings do already fly," Sam points out to Kate with a wry smile, waving at May as she arrives. "I don't think you want Tony bolting repulsor jets and ailerons to your bow. Besides, he'll get carried away and before you know it, you'll be hauling a friggin' railgun around with you."

He cuts the superhero talk for a second to give his order to the waitress when she appears: ham and eggs with cheese, plus a side order of crepes with lemon. He's amicable enough to work this French nonsense in where he can, but he's going to need to anchor the meal with some real food, too. Sorry, Clint.

"Well, if the new bosses get too nosy, we can always walk out," he points out — keeping it vague with the waitress nearby. "Get our own thing going. I mean, don't get me wrong: the perks are nice, but if they lose the talent" — he circles with a finger, indicating the whole group — "they're left with a very expensive nothing. They know it, too."


"Me with armor?" Kate laughs. "That wouldn't even be fair. Besides, I'm pretty sure Tony Stark's got the rich kid wearing armor market cornered." She puts in her own order for strawberry and nutella, nodding to Sam. "Sure, that's something. And something they've seen, with Cap and Clint and the others breaking ranks. But they also know there are some people who won't, and that the prestige of the league is something that will draw people, whether or not it's any of us. Which, go us, building that. But it means, like it or not, we're the establishment. And there are always going to be people who want to be part of the establishment."


Jemmas worked with Clints ex's, she won't be asking … and looks up as Agent May enters. "Agent May …" she speaks quickly. and snickers a little as Sam details what Tony might do. Since she's been living at Stark Towers, she's come to believe that of the man … and she's only been there a few weeks.

She orders too, as the waitress appears … ham, cheese and bacon in a savoury crepe … maybe it's a british thing.

"If you walk" Jemma points out "You'll have no one on the inside, that you think you can trust." Kates answer gets a nod as well "Exactly. And Kate, you should consider armour… and if Tony is making it, I'm sure he'd be interested in speaking with you." If only because Kate is young and female (sorry Kate and Clint, but Tony really is a bit of a flirt!)


"I was more thinking maybe Stark could make a collapsible bow or something." Because he agrees. That armor? It's nice. It's useful. But it's not something he wants either. "Well luckily they're not bosses yet. Right? That'd suuuuuuuck." Because SHIELD is nosy enough. Now make SHIELD ten times more bureaucratic and hostile and see where that gets you. Clint guesses 'not real far'.

"Hey May." He doesn't remember sending out to May. Well, maybe she just knows where the good crepes are. Either way she's quite welcome. And yeah… Clint's read Tony Stark's dossier. There was a time when he was a big person of interest at SHIELD. So he knows he'd want to talk to Kate.


Melinda May nods a greeting to everyone as she settles into the remaining chair at the table. Without so much as glancing at the menu, she asks the server for brioche french toast and tea. Gotta buck the trend after all and get something OTHER than crepes. And as to how she knew where this group would be? Simple. She's Simmons' ride home.


Sam offers May a fist bump for her non-crepe choices, then nods as Kate outlines the possibility of a League 2.0. "Oh, sure, they can always recruit someone else," he agrees. "But if the setup is bad enough that we decide to quit? Hey, better them than me."

He picks up his mug of coffee and drains about a quarter of it before Jemma's comment stops him. He sets the mug back down, looking uncomfortable. "Someone on the inside…? You make it sound like they're going to come after us or something," he says with a frown. "I was thinking more an amicable parting, like with Cap." It's rare for Sam to be quite this genre blind, but he's always been on the idealistic side of things where superheroics are concerned.


"Which is one of many reasons I keep sticking around," Kate smiles faintly to Jemma, reaching over to steal Clint's coffee and take a sip. "Have to keep an eye on things. Besides, I ended up being the face of this thing. And I've been using it to encourage other people - people who need the protection something like the league can offer - to be a part of a team, to reach out to the rest of us, to reach their potential. If I left, it'd be bad for that." Which is why, when he phone rings, she grimaces. "Sorry, that's the watchtower, be right back," she says, standing up to walk away for the call.


Melinda May obliges Sam's offered fist bump, but for anyone that has learned to read her facial expressions (or lack thereof), they'd know she did so purely to humor the man.


Jemma glances to May, pausing in her response considering a moment before making a decision. Mays been pushing her to step out on her own … and this she can see, relatively clearly.

"People make lists, Sam, of people of interest. It's likely they're worried about what you might do. Neither you or Clint were here, with the Senate hearings, but Kate was… " Jemma watches as Kate rises to leave and smiles at the woman "Nice to see you again, Kate" before continuing.

"The hearings seemed pretty awful. A witch hunt to find out who to blame… people fear what they don't know and Superheroes, along with mutants and meta, are an anathema." Another faint smile as she considers "Until you know what they want, do you really want to take that risk?" And as far as Jemma knows, no one has asked Cap his real reasons for leaving.


It's fun to be the one in charge. Always on call. Always getting the 'hey, uh, we have an issue' messages.

It's really not. There's a reason Clint's never pushed to be in charge of anything. That's for folks like Kate who are better with people or like May and Coulson who have learned how to never, ever, crack a smile. The crepes come quickly enough though and Clint discretely folds up the folder with the DEO dossiers in it and… doesn't slip it back into his bag. It does, rather suspiciously end up near Kate's seat, but you know, surely that's a coincidence.

"It's good to have someone who can work with the government assholes anyway. Sometimes they're not evil. Just, you know. Jerks." Clint's been that guy. Though in this case he's not ruling ot sinister.

"I don't think they're gunning for you Sam. Not yet. But all it takes is one paranoid guy high enough up the food chain." He shrugs. He's a spy. He's used to thinking like this. "Anyway enough of that." Jemma gets a nod and May a smirk. He knows. Oh yes he knows. "You guys really need to try the banana nutella one before we leave. Unless you all have somewhere to be." He'll be right where he is. For the time being.

Before he goes back to aiming to misbehave. And Hawkeye (or rather, Ronin) very rarely misses.

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