Two Archers and A Spy Walk Into A Strip Joint

Characters: Roy Harper Natalia Romanova Clint Barton
Rated: PG-13
Summary: Nat and Clint meet one of the newest recruits, Roy, while out visiting a Strip Club and relaxing. Tension ensues and somehow, Roy manages not survive a not-happy Black Widow and taking Clint's equipment!
OOC Date: Fri, Nov. 24, 2017. 5:36 pm.
IC Date: Fri Nov 24 15:42:13 2017
Where: A Strip Club somewhere in Manhattan.

It's a cold day in the City. Temperatures are dropping and it's the first day after Thanksgiving, which means 'Black Friday'.. which means the Tree in the Center has gone up and the tourists are flocking in for the season. Roads are filled, terminals are overflowing, and emergency services are working overtime with even more 'on call'.

Translation: Clint Barton doesn't get a day off until after the New Year, even if he's not technically scheduled to work. 'Don't leave town, Barton,' is a direct quote. To be fair, in the next breath came 'Not you either, Romanoff'.

No one, however, said he couldn't at least relax. Get a load off. Have a beer. Spend non-existant money on women who were only dancing to support their own households.

Sitting at a small 'cafe' table, in a darkened bar, Clint's sitting back, legs straight and pushed forward and he's tilting a dark green bottle up against his lips, taking one, two swallows. On the table is a fresh order of wings, of potato skins, of little personal bar pizzas, still 'burn the roof of your mouth' hot. Everything going on stage isn't highlight.. it's all background.

"Yeaaaaaah.. this sucks.." Clint muses over the top of his beer bottle. "Here I figured time in meant I could get away for a week.. But no…"

Poor Harper has been striking out lately. I suppose that is what one gets when one is new to the city and trying to flirt with the office pool. Not always easy to make friends when your a hotshot field agent from the other end of the country finally getting the play in the big kids pool. So the strip club it is. Good views, cheap beer, and the scuttle butt is that the wings are pretty good.

A quick glance around the bar with the lowlight mod on his glasses kicked on reveals an empty table next to Clint's, and the young man takes a seat. He looks about, sliding his sunglasses to the top of his black trucker's cap and gives Clint a nod. "How's the food here?"

'Don't leave town'… Well, that certainly limited things. It also meant they wouldn't really be off-duty despite being off-duty. "After the new year, we'll take some time off." This is said as Nat returns and props her feet up on Clint and takes a drink of her own beer.

A nod of her head goes to Roy. "Edible. It's bar food." She shrugs. Not a complain, simply the way it is. One foot is pulled from Clint's lap to push a chair out at their table for Roy, silent invitation to join them. Then she's propping her foot back up with the other one.

"Where'd you have in mind," is asked of Clint just before she reaches for a potato skin.

Clint reaches over for a messy wing, and waves it in the air as he offers a response, "Better the food, the worse the girls. Gotta come in for one or the other." Once done, he puts the whole wing into his mouth and pulls off all the meat, leaving only bones to put back on his little personal plate. He nods assent, agreement as his partner pulls up the chair for 'the new guy'. "Barton," comes in way of introduction. He'll let 'Tash do her own.

Clint smirks as he's used as a footstool, and takes another swallow of his beer. "You in for the tree lighting? Or, your family in for the tree lighting and you're killing time?"

Roy slides over to join the duo at their table and waves to get the waitresses attention. He points at Clint's beer, and then makes a motion for another round for the table before settling into his chair. "Good to know. I'm starving." he says in response to Nat's review of the food.

"I don't know about you two, but I just got the worst news today. Office just told me not to leave town. I'm not officially being asked to work for the holidays, just being told I can't leave and that I'm on standby. Sucks to be the new guy I guess." Roy starts, making idle conversation while he waits for his drinks.

"I just moved to the city. No family here." Roy answers Clint, taking a moment to let his gaze slide across Natalia, then to the stage, and then back to Natalia. View is better at the table. "Roy."

"Romanoff," is offered as a name before she takes another swing of her beer and finally bites into the potato skin. "Help yours," she offers while motioning Roy to the food. She'll pay for the next round.

"Same news." And she doesn't sound any more thrilled about it than Roy does, honestly. Not that she says as much but she isn't trying to hide it either.

Being looked over makes her arch a brow, toss an amused look at Clint and then turn her attention back to her food, last bit being eaten before she looks over at Roy again.

"Voluntary move or reassignment?"

Clint takes another swallow of beer, obviously not missing the once-over 'Tash has been given. Can't fault the man; if he was psychic he'd also agree that the view is a hell of a lot better at his table. He'd be lying otherwise. Still, he keeps a straight expression, and the bottle comes down as the hand reaches for another wing. This move now brings him forward, and leaning on the table, he keeps his voice down. "I feel like I'm in an Escape from New York scene. But yeah.. but then again, bridges are croweded, tunnels are filled. Couldn't really get out if I wanted." Liar. "So…" and he points back to his partner, "here we are. Livin' the dream."

Brows rise and he leans back in his chair again, this time emptying the bottle on the last pull. "Welcome to the City. Depending on what you do, you might learn ever rat's name in the subway and sewers, or every feather on every goddamned pigeon in town."

"A little of both, I suppose." Roy answers Nats question. At the offer to the food, the man grabs a potato skin and noms it down. When the next round arrives, Roy drops a bill on the waitress tray and nods down to the skins. "Another plate of the skins and one of these little pizzas for me. And keep the beer coming."

Harper turns back to Nat to more fully answer her question. "I put in the request to move here a while ago, and finally got the go ahead just as I was getting settled on the west coast and starting to make a name for myself. Government paperwork at its best, I suppose."

At Clint's comment, Roy raises an eyebrow. "I suppose I've spent more than my fair share learning just how much pigeons crap over everything in this town. Haven't done much in the sewers." Roy knocks softly on the table for luck in that department. "Curious though, what do you do that requires you to know the vermin that well?"

Nat snorts at her partner, finishing off her own bottle and leaning forward to set it on the table. "We should learn to dream bigger." And then there's a faint smirk. "Needing new company in your perches? You could always join me ground level." Because that'll happen… "The rats get annoying after a while." Pause. Beat. "Which reminds me… Got enough shafts?" What? Christmas is coming up…

Roy actually gets a chuckle from her and a nod of her head. "Never go until they're ready for you to." She smirks at the waitress who looks over both men before taking her leave. "Gotta love the strip clubs." Cue the eyeroll.

Clint's questioned and Mat once more finds herself smirking, turning her attention on her partner to see how he answers. This should be good!

"You didn't withdraw it?" Clint shrugs and waves towards the waitress arriving with the bottles for the next round. Pulling one off the tray before it's set down, he tosses a bill onto the tray. "Keep it comin', darling," is requested. The cap is already off, and he pulls another swallow before reaching for one of the 'should be cool enough to eat' personal pizzas.

"Anything and everything that has to be done in order to get home and sleep." Clint nods at 'Tash, "I'm just dreaming about—" Okay, there's the smirk and he's off onto that next tangent.

"Shafting? Yeah.. I still have to weigh and straighten a box. Probably a lot of crap shafts. What I'm running short on is fletching. I still have a ton of that bright orange that you gave me as a joke last year, and I'm starting to think about using it as my nocking fletch." Which is obviously not what he wats to do.

Clint grins as Nat eyes and then eyerolls at the waitress. She's getting tips, so she'll be back.. and back.. and back. "C'mon.. it's the only place where it'll make it just that much harder to call us in personally."

When the talk turns to arrows, Roy lifts an eyebrow and then takes a moment to study the two a little more closely. Holy shit. Not just a random duo in a strip club then. Play it cool Roy, play it cool. Harper doesn't bring up the fact that his question wasn't answered and chimes in a quippy response.

"Probably my fault. I took all the carbon fiber vanes that I could get my hands on when I got here." Roy quips, leaning back in his chair and taking a hit from his beer, keeping his eyes on the pair. Just in case.

Nat almost chokes on the new beer she had just lifted and taken a drink of. "You've been reduced to those?" Poor birdie! "Okay. We'll fix that." Her nose wrinkles at the idea of that much attention being drawn to her partner. "You still have to use them for practice though."

Another potato skin is in hand before she smirks. "Yeah… I can guess what you dream about. I'm not even sure this place has a high enough rating for that," is teased of her partner before she turns her attention on Roy and grins. "You're safe unless you broke into his personal order." She's kidding. Right? Right??

Clint leans forward and sets the beer on the table, though he doesn't relinquish his pizza. That's in his right hand, though. "You?" He stares at the other man for a long moment, studying him before he almost echoes 'Tash, "I really hope it wasn't my office stash.." because it's beginning to sound like it, particularly after the dance. "I don't like rifles, but I'll sure as hell use one.. and the first shot'll be spoken for." He says that with a smile? It's all good, right?

The beer is picked up again, and he takes a swallow before he looks to his partner again, a grin back in place, "Aw, hey.. okay, maybe." Clint pauses before, "Probably." Beat. "Okay, definitely." Oh look, he hasn't yet taken a bite of his pizza!

"I wouldn't say 'broke' into, so much as slept with someone in procurement and got them to give me the stock on hand while they reordered…." Roy starts, shrugging. "She pulled some strings for me."

Another pull from the beer and Roy chuckles to himself. "Grabbed all the shafts available as well. Not to mention one of those quivers with the roatating arrow heads. Upgraded the arm selector though." Roy smiles wickedly and tilts his beer towards Clint. "So…thanks, I guess. Be happy to share my upgrades."

Natasha's eyes narrow and her beer slowly lowers. "You should be more careful who you steal from."

Anyone but her partner and she might not have cared. As it is? Her feet and pulled from Clint's lap and she's pushing up, pulling her work from from her back pocket and slipping into work mode while standing.

"Order me something stronger," is said to Clint as she starts to step away.

"You mean to tell me that you came across country empty handed?" Clint stares at Roy for a long moment before he sets his beer down, and then that once-bitten piece of pizza. "And you helped yourself to not only a dozen, a couple dozen shafts, but all of them. And all the veins." He scratches at the back of his neck in a controlled gesture, and as his hand comes back down, he's looking up as 'Tash gets to her feet. "You bet."

Then it's back to Roy. "You took all my goddamned equipment? What the hell will happen if I walk out there in the next hour, and I've got nothing left?" Clint shifts his voice, "'Oh, sorry boss.. someone took all my equipment out of procurement'.. and you know what he's going to say? First, heads are gonna roll, because we don't run out of my equipment. It's specialized, and it's for me." Lifting his right hand, he looks at his watch, but he's not really looking at it. "I'm gonna be generous. You have a half hour to put half of that stuff back. Assuming you signed for it."

When Nat gets up and Clint starts to get a little more forceful in his speech, Roy slides his chair backwards to give himself a little more room. "I was ordered to report to the Triskellion and booked on a commercial flight. I turned in my equipment to the local office and reported, as ordered. I don't create the proceedure bro." Roy tries to explain quickly.

"Secondly, I didn't take /all/ of the equipment….just the stuff that was any good after testing. And of course I signed for it. The office said it would take three days to get another order and I had an OP in two. Lastly, its specialized, sure. Its all been tasked and synced to my suit and my quiver already. Be faster to just go get the new shit in the morning." Again, all this is hastily explained as Roy reaches up and slides his expensive looking glasses down over his eyes and flips his hat so the brim is facing backwards. Business mode. "And I'd hate to have to kick your ass in front of your girlfriend."

Natasha has stepped away from the table slightly, back stiff as she speaks just a little too calmly into the phone she now has at her ear. Only bits and pieces of the conversation can be heard.

"I … the name of … Baton's … Order. Now."


"…It's… Unacceptable… Take her … … Acquisitions … Untrustworthy."

Another pause and she has to force herself not to growl.

"Report … Fury … You too?"

Finally, she gets the response she wanted.

"Good. I'll … later … Reassigned immediately."

Did she hear the exchange between Roy and Clint while her back was turned? Possibly. Is she going to say shit about it? Nope. Clint can handle his own and she knows it. All she does is hold her hand out for the beer.

"Fury. six o'clock tomorrow morning." It's enough. They have an appointment. "Acquisitions handled." It's like she's giving a mission report.

"No blood if you want to be able to come back, Clint."

Clint doesn't move from his spot; he's got everything he could possibly want or need within reach. He's not just an archer, probably not unlike Roy. "They didn't even fly you out?" He whistles softly, "I thought you said you were getting your footing out there." The least they could have done was grab a plane after dropping off a deployment.

Tasked and synced to his suit and quiver.. "Suit? Seriously? A suit? You need a suit to help you shoot?" He snorts sofly at that, though at the last jab, there's a moment where Clint simply sits there, staring at the other man. He leans forward in his chair again, though his hands are still quite visible.

"And I'd really hate to have to explain to the old man why you couldn't show up for muster."

"I would hate to get a dressing down for starting another bar fight." Roy explains, grinning suddenly. "And I don't need the suit. Best shot in the business bro. But when they have powers, why turn your back on a little extra umph. But if you want to head down to the range and have a little measuring contest…"

Roy ponders a moment. No sense in getting on the bad side of two of the best in the business. "Tell you what, bro. I've got a spare quiver in the truck. Its got the upgraded interface, but that should be what, twenty minutes to swap out to your old tech? Or keep the upgrade. You might even like it."

Nat's eyes close and a deep breath is taken before she opens them again and smiles. Which isn't a good thing. It takes a lot to tick Black Widow off so thoroughly and most don't have the balls to do it.

"I've never known Clint to need a little extra 'umph'. Even dealing with someone powered."

She settles at her partner's side, reaching for her drink again. "And unless you're playing the boss, which he'd frown on a great deal, tech doesn't get any better than ours." She makes sure Clint's equipment is the top of the line which means often times stuff that isn't even generally available yet.

She downs the bottle of beer in a single breath and motions the waitress over to get something stronger. She considers offering the young man a bit of advice about protocol but… He'll learn. One way or another.

"Moving on." And that's it. Just like that, she's calling an end to hostilities. Why? Knowing Nat… She's already got things in the works to deal with the situation.

"Yeah, don't need the added, so I leave that stuff to those that do." Clint retakes his beer and shrugs, "I don't miss." He leans back in his chair again and nods at his partner. "He'll learn."

Clint looks back at Roy and gestures towards the seat first and then off and beyond to the stage. "I came here to relax and not deal with work bullshit. That is exactly what I am doing right now with the lovely and talented Agent Romanoff. Soon enough that damned phone will ring and we won't see the inside of this place again for months, assuming we're still in the country. So, pizza, wings, beer and conversation."

He's done, and the bottle of beer is upended and finished with an exhale of satisfaction. In the next moment, however, Clint frowns and cants his head towards Nat again, his voice lowered, "Damn, that almost makes me want to go take a walk past that stupid tree now."

"I'm not playing the boss. Just my stuff comes from outside the agency. I use a three-dee interface to sync up to all the different arrow heads. My standard load out is almost 50 different arrows, with a different miniturization process that the one you guys use." Roy explains settling back into his seat now that it seems he's not about to get his ass kicked.

"Be happy to show you. No school like the old school, I get it, but the future marches on and shit. Gotta keep up or get left out." Harper explains, shaking his head. "And my apologies for jacking your shit, but like I said, they pulled me out here with nothing and gave me a mission, and I needed to rearm. I was told that they had what I needed just sitting in the inventory on standby. You would have done the same. Well…maybe…" Roy says, looking from Clint to Natalia again. "Probably without the doggy style."

"No. He wouldn't have." And the kid accusing her partner of being willing to steal from a fellow SHIELD member is the last straw. "Don't my partner's equipment again and not even our people will be able ti find you when I'm done. Understand? I don't care how good you -think- you are but you've got a long way to go and a lot to learn if you hope to play with the big kids."

Pushing out of her seat, Nat tosses a look at Clint that clearly says 'I will kill him if I stay'. "Thanks for the beer and food. I'll find you later." A bill is tossed on the table to cover the drink she ordered but clearly won't be having and then she starts out.

The training room at the office doesn't stand a chance of not needing rebuilt by the time she's done tonight.

Clint's brows rise, not at the counting out of his equipment, but the following statement. He clears his throat and says quite clearly, "You do realize we've been using bows and arrows for the last ten thousand years, right? The future's been marching on for a very long time." He shrugs next and has something of a smirk on his face, "I like to rely on my skills. To be able to pick anything up and throw it.. whether it's a rock," and Clint picks up a piece of bone, rolling it around in his hands, "a bone," he gestures with it, "Or a bow and arrow."

It's not that Clint doesn't understand; he does. It's just.. it's his equipment. There isn't another person in SHIELD that uses archery as their main loadout, not one, and all that stuff is his.

"Hey 'Tash.." When Natalia stands up and is ready to go, Clint calls out, "I'll catch up with you later. Dog has to go out. I'm gonna go see that tree." So his dog can pee on it.

Roy raises an eyebrow at Natalia as she walks off. Hate to see her go, but damn if Harper doesn't watch her leave. "Oh hey, no kidding. I'm all about the skillz, bro. Darts, rocks, hell, I even stopped a super strong dude in the middle of a fit with a handfull of peanuts. Got one up his nose and he choked on it. I don't miss. Not in a long time. The tech isn't to help my shot out, its to help me fight on even footing. Range finders, low light vision, wi-fi blockers…even an e.m.p. pulse to knock out cameras." Roy stops suddenly, and then shakes his head.

"I sound like I'm bragging. Not me. Well…maybe a little me." Harper conceeds, chuckling. "I'm not here to step on your toes, and I can cover you if shit happens between now and tomorrow. Sorry about the gear."

"All that stuff is in my loadout. You probably got a lot of it, actually. If they gave you that quiver. The new one actually loads the piles on. Makes things a little easier." Clint shakes his head and a soft laugh escapes the man. "I work with a partner, but you probably know that. Teamwork. Means someone's got your back, and you have to be sure that both of your are topped and ready to go. S'what being part of a team means." He's going to be keeping a closer eye on his gear, absolutely.

The chicken bone is put back down and he finds a napkin to wipe his fingers on. "I can still shoot those arrows. Unless you screwed with the poundage, and then I have to adjust for it."

Clint gains his feet soon after, though, and puts some more money down. "Time to walk Lucky." Pizza Dog. "Welcome to New York."

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