The Pot Pie Is Nice

December 12, 2015:

Clints waiting to speak to Jemma, as Tigra passes by

New York

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

Clint Barton is in M-Town after the recent chairty gala there. He didn't attend but it was a good opportunity for him to get a few things done while both the authorities and the locals were distracted. What kind of things?

Look Clint's an old spy, don't ask too many questions.

Whatever he's been up to, though, he's done now and he's taking dinner at a little cafe in Midtown not too far from Stark Tower? Why? Well he knows someone will be coming along at some point and wants to talk to her. Again. Spy. Sneaky.


Tigra came to the area to visit someone, and with that done she's striding along a sidewalk, seeming to have no care in the world when others stop, stare, point, or even whistle. As long as they're not trying to attack her, she'll flash them a playfully teasing grin and even 'purr' toward a cute guy or two. It's just the mood she's in.

The tigress was not in attendance at the Mutant Town function either, whether she was even aware of it or not. She slows as a few scents strengthen through the generally smelly ones of the city, the diner given a glance as she nears it.


Jemma has recently moved into Stark Towers, for a short while and even though JARVIS would arrange for food for her, it's nice to get out. Of course, there's a protection detail lurking around - Mays been serious about keeping her safe.

She's just entered the cafe as Tigra draws near and is waiting for a table to be allocated.


Clint… only vaguely remembers Tigra. He's seen her before and his double had a lot of interaction with her. Okay only some interaction but it was enough that he vaguely remembers the woman and gives her a wave as she walks by. How many catwomen are there in the world anyway? Not that many, he's guessing.

And then there's Jemma, who also gets a wave. "Doc. Nice to see you again. Have a seat."


There were one or two times, maybe another one or two more than that, but it's true: Tigra knows Clint very little. The same holds true for Jemma, though both seem familiar enough to her that after he spots her and she him, leading to the wave, she stops to stare at them through a window separating those on the inside from the rest of the people passing by. Oh, there may be others of a feline persuasion out there, but there are none quite like her. She turns and enters.


"Keeping tabs me, Mr Barton?" Jemma slips into the chair that was offered. She looks tired and not a little worried as she looks over her shoulder. "You know, Tigra?" The feline gets a smile, of course, and then the biochem is reaching for the menu.

She's going to assume Clints being here is just a happy circumstance.


'Uh, sort of." Though whether that's to knowing Tigra or keeping tabs on Jemma is an open question. "Hello there." The archer greets the woman as she comes inside. "Just passing by? I was actually just waiting for you to come by Jemma. There's some interesting news about something that might be in your wheelhouse, as it were."


"Who, me?" Tigra asks following the question of passing by. "If you mean me then yes, but maybe I had to see what you two were doing in here." Her tail makes a show of curling and lengthening out again, the tip more in motion than the rest. She casts a glance to both sides just to see how much attention she's drawing and, by extension, how much Clint and Jemma are as well. However, there is just a part of her that results in her not being too chummy. After all, she knows who they work for.


Who Jemma works for anyway. "So you are keeping tabs on me…" Jemma smiles faintly and looks curious when Clint mentions interesting news. Looking to Tigra, the smiles broadens a little "Well I came in for dinner." She doesn't elaborate - Jemma can't lie well and she doesn't want to say that she lives around here - there's a level of secrecy about that.

Clint invited her to sit at the table, she'll let him extend the invitation … the attention being drawn is noted, causing the tension lines around her eyes to deepen slightly.

Jemma would probably never make a good spy.


Clint doesn't work for SHIELD these days… though Jemma certainly does. "Did you want to take a load off there." He had meant her. "I was just going to, you know, take some dinner. Chat about 'current events'." The air quotes in there are almost audible. "You know, in the news kind of stuff. Like, oh, street doctors doing cybernetic alterations in illegal clinics. That kind of thing…" That's most certainly not been in the news.


One out of two ain't bad. Tigra raises a brow at the whole 'current events' bit, then the other when cybernetics and illegal clinics and the like are brought up. "Sounds like tons of fun," she says dryly, and she hasn't sat down yet. Instead, she crosses her arms and waits to hear more.


Jemmas eyes settle on Clint at the mention of illegal cybernetic alterations. There's only one thing she knows of that would be related to that … and they've been targetting her. But those, she's fairly certain aren't from this dimension… or local, anyway.

"It's not…" Jemma sighs as Tigra responds. As far as Jemma's concerned it's as far from fun as you can get.


Clint smiles a bit thinly. "Why don't you have a look at the menu Jemma. Tigra are you sure you won't join us?" He glances up at the catwoman before continuing, as if talking to Jemma but clearly so both can hear. "So we've had a problem with Reavers lately. You know, those cyborgs who have been trying to ambush and murder metahumans? Well that stuff ain't cheap so it's not like they exactly have disposable shock troops. And you gotta figure it's not like they just take volunteers off the street to be combat cyborgs. So I did a little digging to see how they set up when they move into an area. And damned if I didn't find they usually have a core group that muscles the local underworld to help 'recruit' for them." So… they kind of do take people off the streets. At least for the ones that get sent to go into combat that might kill them.


"Sarcasm is just another service I offer," Tigra informs Jemma with a fangy grin, though the lighter moment is there and gone when Clint launches into what he knows after she says, "Dunno how long I'll be sticking around just yet." Now she listens, idly scratching close to an ear before she guides her hair back and runs a few fingers through. "It sounds like they're pretty organized. That's usually not good."


"Reavers?" Jemma looks up from the menu that she'd started to peruse. "I know them." There's several … frames in the SHIELD facilities, being examined by the science teams. Jemma hasn't been asked to look at them yet, she's got other things keeping her busy.

"We know that the Reavers are organised." Jemma responds to Tigra, she's heard snippets of discussions around The Triskelian "It's not surprising that they're taking people to be shock troops." shaking her head "That means if we know some of who are missing, we might be able to track them to Reavers that have captured."


"Or I can save you some of the work by giving you the names of a couple of the street doctors who are performing conversions for them…" Clint smirks. He, unlike some, is a good spy. "If that information should happen to make it into the hands of people who will do something about them…" Official or not… "Well, these things happen."


Peering more toward Clint than Jemma, Tigra remarks, "Someone's been busy digging. I like. I haven't dealt with these things before so if you want to handle it," she tells Jemma, "I won't get in the way. You've got the experience with them, but if I do come across any, well.." She shrugs her shoulders as if to say something like, 'What can you do?'


"Take a copy, if you like." Jemma isn't involved in this investigation, but she'll pass the information to the right people. Tigra can dig on her own … it might yield different results to SHIELD tactics.

"I've not had personal experience of these creatures." she clarifies for the Tigress and the looks to Clint "DNA testing on the samples we have will provide a deeper tie to convict them."


Clint smiles. "Well I didn't write it down. If I did just anyone could pick it up and that wouldn't do now would it?" Spy. Paranoid. These things do happen, particularly when you've been in this game as long as the former Hawkeye. "Their names are Stephen O'Halloran and Maria De Lisi respectively. It's sliiiiightly possible that one of them is some kind of metahuman… haven't figured which though. Anyway the former likes to hang around the worse parts of Harlem and the later is up in White Plains." Which is a bit of a drive from here but not so far that you can't make it regularly if you have to. "If you ask around the local underworld I'm sure you can locate their clinics." And by ask he means 'whatever you have to do.'


"Your people, at least?" Tigra asks Jemma, meant to clarify before she moves and waves it off, listening to Clint again. "Stephen O'Halloran in Harlem. Maria De Lisi in White Plains. One might be a meta. Got it." Tail twitches again and she adds, "I'll run the names through a couple things of my own, maybe share them with some friends. Who knows what might come of that?" Following this, she wiggles her fingers to both in a wave, nodding toward the exit. "Better get going. There's a cat nap with my name all over it. See you around one way or another, maybe."


"My people may look into it." OK, they likely will … "Of course you haven't written it down." Jemma sighs at Clint. This is why she won't make a good spy. Repeating the names a few times, committing them to memory, she nods to the Tigress. "Enjoy your catnap…." she says with a wave.


"See you Tigra." Maybe he will, maybe he won't. Clint can't ever tell. For not being in SHIELD these days he has a lot on his dance card. Unfortunately he never knows what's up next until it's smacking him in the face.

"I kind of recommend the pot pie, Jemma but that's just me. Unless you have somewhere else to be. I'm gonna be here. Having lunch. For at least the next half hour."

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