Two's a Pattern

May 08, 2018:

Clint ruins a second date of Bobbi's and it sounds like there might be a reason for it?

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

21:40:03 - Clint - hey r u near brodway 2nite? just asking

21:40:46 - Clint - if u r that would be cool no biggie

21:43:11 - Clint - its just theres this thing im doing nearby

21:44:50 - Clint - near broadway

21:45:17 - Clint - and if u have ur stuff with u thats cool 2

21:46:02 - Clint - either way

21:46:33 - Clint - so im kind of on a stakeout

21:46:49 - Clint - its not going well

21:47:08 - Clint - remember javelynn? ya i forgot 2

21:47:24 - Clint - long story short shes in town

  • NEW VOICEMAIL *

"So … *whewwww* … Javelynn's kind of after me right now. If you're around, I'd love not to die. But if you're busy, that's cool. I mean, I'd prefer to live but I'll deal. Have a good night! Oh god my spleen—"

  • TO DELETE VOICEMAIL, PRESS 1 *

Clint Barton's motorcycle screams down a Tribeca thoroughfare. There's a spear of some kind sticking out of his back. The archer fumbles as he tries to juggle driving the car, sending text messages, and relieving himself of the weapon. His phone is the casualty - a pothole sends it flying up into the air before it hits the asphalt and shatters before most of its parts roll and skid into a sewer entrance.

Half a block behind Clint is a woman on a jet-powered hoverboard. She has a bunch of spears, identical to the one in Clint, slung over her back. "BARTON!" she screams. "Tonight you DIE!"

"Why doesn't Tony Stark ever have to deal with this level of bananas?" Clint gasps as he tries to wrest the javelin from his back with one hand. He barely manages to avoid hitting a pizza delivery moped.

*

The first buzz.

Glance, ignored.

Second, third, fourth.

A sheepish look offered toward the rather handsome looking man opposite of her.

Fifth, sixth, seventh. A glare at the phone, a huff of irritation, and a curt, short, explanation and Bobbi Morse found yet another date ruined by her sort-of-it's-complicated, ex-husband. (Pending divorce papers going through, if the paperwork actually got sent to the right place this time..)

The voicemail was ignored as the blonde moved quickly after reading the string of messages from Clint, her irritation growing by the minute with the man. Still, she suited up, revved her engines and was off without ever catching the message. It was a good thing that she'd never uninstalled those tracking softwares..

From the opposite direction she wove down the street between traffic, flying with a dangerous speed through a red light. A squeal of tires echoing in her wake as one Mockingbird steered her motorcycle abruptly to intercept Javelynn's screaming figure. An extended pole arm, charged with electricity, in her hand as she essentially used it to club the hoverboard out from under the woman.

"Sorry honey, that's my line. I already called dibs." She quipped.

*

Javelynn mis-times her leap by just a second, one foot swinging out from under her as Mockingbird knocks away the hoverboard. The villainnes, cartwheeling in midair, attempts to grab at Bobbi and pull herself onto the motorcycle. "Don't you /dare/ deny me this!" she sneers.

The hoverboard smashes through the rear passenger windows of a nearby parked cab, and the driver vacates to avoid catching on fire. The jets propelling the hoverboard quickly ignite the back seats.

Clint, meanwhile, glances over his shoulder to get a better sense of what's happening. Naturally, he begins drifting into the opposite lane as his attention shifts. A series of sharp blasts from a moving truck snap Clint back into focus. "Oh, shi—!" he exclaims, swerving to drive through a pile of streetside garbage rather than the truck's grill.

*

Bobbi cursed as she struggled to keep the villainous woman from gaining traction on her motorcycle. It wobbled and swerved and the blonde was forced to slam on the breaks abruptly or risk toppling over as the Javelynn tried to knock Bobbi out of her seat and to the pavement. Cars behind them stopped and swerved out of the way, a cascade of traffic horns and crunching glass followed the sounds of explosion from the hover-vehicle's crash.

The bike went side ways none the less, leaving the blonde to awkwardly catch herself and not leave an opening for her attacker to get in a few blows. It was tricky, and likely wasn't going to work so well.

"Look, he totally deserves it, I'm sure." A swing and a drop, Mockingbird rolling on the ground to avoid a swift strike, before she rolled back to her feet.

"But he's gotta stay alive to sign the paperwork he owes me."

*

Javelynn attempts to put Bobbi in a chokehold while they're still on the bike, but before she can grab one of her namesake weapons, the bike topples over. The mercenary is tossed upside-down onto the hood of a nearby car that abruptly stops, its windshield ruined.

"That was almost skillful, sweetheart," Javelynn says with a smirk. "Too bad I can't really refer you to Jacques and make something of yourself."

Then, with a quick flick of her arm, she hurtles a javelin at Bobbi's midsection.

Down the street, Clint manages to turn his own bike around to approach the scene of the fight. In one hand, he clutches his bow and an arrow, and he steers with the other - until he leans back, letting go of the handles, to try and nock the arrow and line up a shot on his enemy.

"3 … 2 … 1 …" he mumbles quietly to himself.

*

Bobbi snorted, rolling her eyes. "I'm fully employed, thanks. But if you want, I can pass along my own referrals. I'm thinking a nice little place, Upstate. Nice security there. You'll love it." She shot back, rushing forward to try to close the distance between her and Javelynn. After all, the long distance weapons were entirely to the other woman's benefit, and unless Bobbi wanted to pull out her gun and add to the chaos that was the street—people would panic even more.. she'd have to close the distance.

Of course that was easier said than done as the other woman hurtled a javelin her way. A near miss, the sharpened point digging into the fabric of her upper sleeve and leaving a gash that would likely need stitches after all was said and done.

The blonde hissed, but didn't stop in her sliding charge to try to knock the woman off her feet. Even as Clint came up from where ever he'd crashed to try to land a hit.

*

Javelynn's would-be rapid-fire assault is suddenly halted by Bobbi's shoulder in her solar plexus. Then, the assassin spills head over heels. She tries to pull herself into a tight somersault backwards, as if to regain momentum and leap to her feet. Unfortunately, the javelin quiver on her back provides some resistance, and instead Javelynn has to try and roll onto her side and push herself to her feet.

It's right about then that Clint lets his arrow fly. Its point catches the quiver's strap and digs into the asphalt, pinning Javelynn to the ground. The archer begins running toward the fray, another arrow already in hand. "Bobbi!" he calls. "You OK?"

The woman curses and kicks wildly at Bobbi to retain some distance from her enemy. As she kicks, a dagger-like blade slides out of the toe of her boot, and it whistles in the air while Javelynn strikes.

*

Bobbi caught herself, pressing a hand to the sliced upper arm that was bleeding freely now, and allowing herself that brief respite as Javelynn becomes pinned to the ground thanks to Clint's perfectly timed arrow. She snorted, grinned and dug into her pocket to slap something clear and plastic looking over the injury. "Just peachy, hon. Now. Want to tell me why you keep interrupting my date nights? Tonight was actually looking up. He was young, handsome, didn't look like he'd scare too—" She broke off as the woman kicked wildly in her direction, and a dagger like blade slid out from the woman's foot toward her. She cursed under her breath, not really having time to duck properly, as she braced for the impact instead with her baton, strapped to her forearm. It parried the blade,and there was a sharp clack of metal against metal.

"Excuse me, but the adults were talking." She quipped, moving to better secure the woman besides just one arrow of Clint's.

*

While Javelynn seems to be more and more sure of the fact that she's not getting up, she doesn't stop throwing punches at Bobbi - especially at her wounded arm - and she tries a kangaroo kick to Bobbi's gut.

A high-pitched whistling announces another of Clint's arrows flying in. Its C-shaped head clamps Javelynn's right hand against the ground.

"So … !" Clint calls as he jogs up to the scene. "You got my messages. Wasn't sure you'd be checking them - but I guess I'm that irresistable. Am I right or what?" he adds, grinning at Javelynn.

The mercenary groans and rolls her eyes. "You have no idea what this is about, do you? God, you're even more of an idiot than I remember. If it were up to me, I'd just let you two ruin each others' lives."

*

Bobbi frowned as she jumped back as the woman kicked and flailed. A huff of irritation coloring her expression when it became clear that securing the woman was going to take a more creative approach than she necessarily wanted to deal with. Of course, that's when Clint once more fired off an arrow and did the work for her. Yay for long ranged weapons.

Not that she'd admit that to Clint.

Still, the blonde stepped back, keeping a slight distance between them as she shifted her footing and drew both of her batons again into her grip. A glance was spared for Hawkeye and she arched a blonde eyebrow upwards. "Or what," She said flatly, and her blue eyed gaze settled on Javelynn as the woman groaned and rolled her eyes. A furrow of her eyebrow following.

"Care to share with the class? Explain."

*

"Aww," Clint pouts just a bit as he folds his arms across his chest. "Tony Stark never has to deal with these kinds of shut-downs, either," he mutters.

Javelynn's face is contorted into an ugly glare. "Come on. We're both professionals. Let's not pretend either one of us would give up any sort of info at this stage." She sighs and seems to relax somewhat. "You and I are gonna have a lot of late nights together in whatever highly classified torture-cell you types do your interrogations in. I bet Clumsy Clint here'll be jealous of the face time /I/ get with you."

"Did … Did I do something to you, way back when?" Clint asks, squinting. "I didn't even think our paths crossed that much."

"A gig's a gig," Javelynn replies. "Of course, maybe there /is/ more to all this. But if I'm put away into a SHIELD pen or some supermax facility, you'll never know, will you? Either of you." She glances to Bobbi and shrugs, the gesture a mix of coyness and sarcasm.

*

Was there a plot to ruin her dates and put her into Clint's path? No, of course not, that was silly and stupid and she knew immediately that Clint would follow that hint of logic and she shook her head. A baton pointed toward Javelynn with the end that sparked with electricity. "We are both professionals. And as such I was hoping we could skip ahead and save us both some time. Torture doesn't get good confessions, if any at all, so we both know that's not going to give either of us what we want." She shot back, lofting eyebrow upwards.

A glance was spared toward Clint and she snorted, "I dunno, did you date her? You always seemed to forget those details." She pursed her lips and sighed heavily, her gaze returning to the downed woman.

"Right, well, professionalism and what not. Time process you and what not."

*

"No!" Clint protests. "We both learned from the same guy. Swordsman. But at different times, you know. Like in high school." He exhales deeply and rubs his temple. "At least, that's what it feels like … except with /deadly weapons/."

Javelynn chuckles. "He really is full of himself, isn't he? Look," she adds, "you let me go - make it seem like I managed to get away - and I'll let some intel slip. I only get paid if it seems like I'm not ratting out my contacts." She casts a few obvious glances down toward her belt. "I may or may not have something there to facilitate an escape. Maybe something unexpected happens when you're transitioning from me being stuck here to me being handcuffed … ?"

*

Bobbi arched a brow, looking unconvinced as Clint protested and she shook her head once before digging around into her utility belt pockets around her waist. "Yeah, he is. Try dealing with him for any holiday that requires you to think about other people every once and a while." Never mind that it was she that often was on missions or forgetting their anniversary when they had been married. Clint had been the romantic.

Definitely not her shtick.

"Alright, so, you want to slip Intel? Here's my insurance then." Out came a tiny looking cylinder and she popped the cap off it with a flick of her thumb. She bent down, and reached for the woman's ankle, trying to jam whatever it was in her hand against Javelynn's heel.

"In this is a tiny needle that will inject you with my special cocktail, don't follow through on your word and you'll have a short life. Follow through, and I'll leave you the cure." She drawled, whether or not it was real wasn't the point. She was a world famous bio-chemist.

*

"/How/ short, you /psycho/?!" Javelynn shouts, her eyes going wide. "Oh, you … I'm not going to forget this …!" She fumes, her nostrils flaring as she tries to control her breathing.

After a long moment, Javelynn finally speaks. "Look," she says quietly. "The Circus is getting the band back together. You need to look into Trick Shot and how legit he's really gotten recently."

After she speaks, she swallows a lump in her throat and stares at Bobbi. "Well? Where's that freaking antidote?!"

Clint pulls out a pair of titanium handcuffs and looks to Bobbi as well. "So - we doing /this/, or we doing this for real? Just say the word. But, uh," he adds, "the right word. So I know which plan to go with. No offense, Javelynn."

Javelynn doesn't bother responding.

*

Bobbi rose, a smirk on her features as she tucked away the tiny little thimble sized injector. "Oh at least a week before you incubate it, and then another week before you symptoms. After that things get fuzzy, not all that many test subjects survived past that." She murmured, as if considering how utterly tragic it was that she couldn't give the woman more time.

Of course, then there was Clint and the blonde sighed heavily and shot him a look.

She let Javelynn dangle for a moment more, two, a beat.. and broke with a look at Clint's blue eyed gaze. It was a weakness she was struggling to overcome still.

"You choose, Clint."

*

"Well, you know what they say," Clint says, kneeling down near Javelynn's right arm. "The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese. So … uhh … let's see what happens when we let this first mouse … go?"

He looks down at the restrained villain. "Do you, like, need my number so you can give us more info if I let you go?"

"What is /wrong/ with you?" Javelynn asks. "Are - are you hitting on me right now?"

"What?!" Clint spits out, looking quickly back and forth between Bobbi and Javelynn. "Of course not! Jeez! No, no, no! Just - just do this already," he says, frustrated, and frees the woman's hand.

She immediately reaches for a pouch at her belt and retrieves a smoke bomb - which she then uses, filling the area with a thick fog.

Naturally, when it dissipates, she's gone.

Clint sighs and nods at Bobbi. "She did that on purpose, didn't she? Because I'm such a trusting soul."

*

Bobbi snorted and rolled her eyes as Clint mixed his sayings and well, did what Clint did best. Talked up a lady that was in front of him. She shook her head, "I dunno what's wrong with him, it's a personal problem." She drawled lightly. Which is when the smoke bomb went off and left the two alone, standing in the chaos of a whole lotta crashes and destroyed cars.

"I can track her easily enough. Micro-chipped her with a saline solution." She'd brought it for her newly adopted cat. Which she swore wasn't the first step to becoming a crazy cat lady and was purely for the need to have a good cover built. Having a pet was what normal people did. Right?

Right?

"So, here's hoping our little birdy drops some nice bread crumbs." A glance was spared for Clint's backside that had caught a javelin earlier. She grimaced. "Do you need stitches again? Seriously?"

*

"Thankfully, no," Clint replies, smiling. "Got stuck in a smartphone holster." He chuckles. "Hurt like hell when it hit me, though."

He nods at Bobbi's injury. "How about you, though? Here I figured taking the ass-kicking was /my/ gimmick. Do we have to arbitrate that, too?"

Clint frowns slightly at his last question. "Sorry. Forget I said that. Let's, uh, let's get you back to your date. Guy's probably wondering where you went by now …"

*

Bobbi glanced side long at Clint has he waved away her concern for his need for medical treatment, her brows furrowed faintly in disbelief. Still, she wasn't going to demand he strip off and check him.. not like they used to anyways. She glanced at her own arm and made a face at his attempt to joke about the need to divy up the ass-kickings too. She could go back to headquarters and get it treated, which would necessitate a report and her informing people that she and Clint had some how ended up working together again.

Which wasn't ideal, given she'd asked specifically to be put on separate missions from the man and had even taken extended missions out of the country as well.

A grimace and she shook her head. "It'll need stitches. And I'm not waltzing back to that date. He is definitely gone by now." She pulled out of her phone to check, and saw a string of rather curt messages telling her off. She sighed, clicked it off and tucked it away again.

"C'mon, quid pro quo. I stitched you up last time, your turn. Bow-boy."

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