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And what are the odds that you were behind said explosions?

I resent that you believe I was behind such a heinous act.

[ There's a short pause. ]

I mean you're right, but I completely and totally resent it.

Edited 2013-02-21 00:30 (UTC)

[She snorts.] I'm sure you'll live, Barton. To be fair, though, if you would have blamed it on someone else, I might have believed you. Maybe. Depends on who.

Do I need to get you to a hospital?

[ Destroying hotels seems to have become a bit of a thing with Clint. If Kate was here she'd no doubt have some witty quip about how he secretly resents them. Clint's too tired. Also he's bleeding. That really slows down his sarcasm.

Clint lifted his good hand up to gesture to his head wound. He's got his other arm pressed into his gut securely. Something is probably broken in his forearm, but he's too irritated to examine it closer. ] This? Ah. This is a game. I'm seeing how much blood I can lose before I'm no longer fit to drive. I think I'm winning.

[It's kind of cute that Clint can be so cavalier about head trauma and-- well, whatever the hell he's hiding behind that arm. Janet lets him babble, rolling up her sleeves as she approaches him. Because, you know, rolling up her sleeves is really going to keep the blood off the vintage Chanel.] Oh, I'm sure you are. For my sanity's sake, do you mind taking a seat so I can get a better look at you?

[ Head trauma. Kidnappings. Disasters. Clint's cute about everything that gets into his path. What's that old Chinese proverb? Sarcasm is the window to a soul. Wait--maybe--nope. Nevermind. Nailed it.

He thought about stepping back and saving himself the embarrassment of having to be looked after, but his wounded side has taken over. He'd rather some help. ] I'll take my pants off later, Janet. Let's just focus on my arm for now. [ Even Clint is amused by his own jokes, but then again who else would be? Clint's his own biggest fan. ]

Edited 2013-02-21 01:14 (UTC)

Har, har, har. Charming as ever. [But despite the eye rolling that is going on over here, she can't really complain. Always better than the alternative. The ability to keep things light is something of a requirement when you live like this. Being an Avenger? You'd drive yourself insane without a good sense of humor or, at the very least, a few witty friends. (Alcohol also helps, but that's another story entirely.)

She gestures towards the nearest chair, all but dragging him over to the dumb thing. Take a seat, Hawkguy. You're going to need it.] All right, let's take a look, shall we?

[ Yep. That's his middle name. Well, second middle name. Clinton Francis Charming Barton. That's a mouthful. He definitely won't be introducing himself to women with that name. He'll just stick to Clint even though he's awfully thankful for that touching nickname you've bestowed on him, Janet.

Oh. Grabby hands. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Once he was seated he huffed. You are not Grills. No calling him Hawkguy. He's sensitive. ] I feel like I should brace for impact. Is this gonna hurt? Because if so I'd sure appreciate some liquid courage, shortstack.

Sorry, that was me.

In my defense, I was very bored. And it didn't even damage anything important.

Uhuh.

You have very judge-y eyes. They're not at all pleasant.

Well, the building was abandoned, but it's just sad. Aw man, building. You had such a long life. [ It's not uncommon for Clint Barton to turn objects into people in a short amount of time. ]

You wouldn't be the first to say that.

That you look judgmental or you have unpleasant eyes? But I'm thinkin' you've heard both. You look like a severely unhappy guy. I'd suggest Pilates. It's supposed to help with chi.

[ Clint's brows came together. ]

I think.

You usually this great with words? [ Brow. Raise. And maybe the smallest quirk of an entertained grin. Very small.People don't often get close enough to him to make much of a comment on how nice his eyes look, bud. ]

I don't have a super power. I gotta make people like me somehow. [ That and his aim. Clint didn't miss. His sarcasm though was his best ally. Clint could talk circles around most bad guys. It was easy. ] Besides what's wrong with my words? Have I offended your delicate sensibilities? [ Least he doesn't say bro a lot like some friendly Russian thugs that Clint has gotten super close to recently. ]

[ Good thing Jason isn't a bad guy. Well, not really. Some would think he's a bad guy but then isn't that the case with everything? But someone claiming (in that sort of way) innocence somewhat catches his attention. ]

Yeah. You did, actually. It's yoga that helps with chi, not Pilates. My inner hippie is deeply shaken. [ So. Incredibly dry. Bourne has an excellent pokerface. ]

At least I stuck to an abandoned one this time. I'm getting saner, see?

[ Bad guys. Good guys. Boring guys. It doesn't matter. Clint's brand of sarcasm is different and quite amazing when seen up close. That could be Clint's ego talking though. It has the tendency to get away from him, but it always comes back. Like a boomerang arrow.

Boomerangs, man.

His brow shot up immediately when the man brought up Yoga. Maybe that was the one that helped with chi. Either way he did neither and mocked those who did both. Who needed to be centered that much? ] Lies. You wouldn't know an inner hippie if it slapped you in the face with a peace pipe smelling like patchouli.

[ Definitely ego talking. Then again, there wasn't much that amazed Jason. Ah, trauma. The lovely things it does to people. ]

Isn't that how it's suppose to go? Outter tough shell, inner marshmallow and so on. I think there's even a stupid pop-culture name for it.

Can you explain why they came from the direction of my lab at least?

Look, it wasn't even my fucking fault. How was I supposed to know that those two things were--not friendly?

I'll buy you another. Don't make that face. [ Clint has money. Also Kate has money. He could borrow some from her. ]

"Why were there even explosions to begin with?" She is holding her hands over her ears from the sound. She wasn't that close, but it was pretty intense explosion.

[Maria narrowed her eyes at him] I'm not convinced you're being honest about that.

[Oh, it's a total mouthful; definitely better to just stick with 'Clint'. Introduce yourself to a woman with a name like Clinton Francis Charming Barton and you might just get laughed at. Or punched in the face, depending on which tree you're barking up.

Still, Janet's trying to be careful here. She doesn't have much experience patching anyone up outside of basic first aid, but she knows when to call a doctor. (Or someone who can actually do something. The blood is a minor thing. No telling how bad it really is until you get a better look at the wound itself, so she's not fazed by it. The arm, on the other hand, is a totally different matter. She lifts his arm carefully, using her free hand to examine his forearm.] Alcohol's just going to make you bleed more than you already are. [She gives his arm a gentle squeeze as she works over it.] Well, it's definitely swollen. How's it feel?

We work for SHIELD. Honest isn't in the job description, blue eyes.

[Stop that, Clint. Stop trying to be charming.] You have a point, but you're deflecting. What happened, Barton?

I guess I should count that as a win then huh?

Yup!

I wouldn't know. Hard through and through. [ Probably not true though. Clint's had enough trauma to last him a lifetime though. Abusive father? Check. Parents dying at young age? Check. Brother being a gigantic manipulative dick? Check. Being the apprentice to a sadistic asshat? Check. That was all before Clint was sixteen. Good times. It's a miracle he's not a mass murderer.

The point is that he doesn't believe for a minute this guy has some soft and gooey center. Maybe in his head or something, but it's not there to him. ]

[ Trying? Clint is not trying, Maria. Clint is succeeding. You should check yourself before you wreck yourself. Isn't that the saying? ] It blew up. My bad.

[ Clint's been punched in the face by his fair share of women. Some of them he's even slept with after the violence commenced. It's just part of his charm you see. Punching him in the face is nothing to shy away from, but it's hard to resist it when he turns on the actual charm. That might actually be in Clint's mind though. It's hard to tell sometimes.

Clint's dealt with much worse. Two broken legs with no hospital? Yep. A busted arm with limited first aid care is easy as pie. They healed just fine as far as Clint is concerned. He can walk and run.

There's a rather vocal grunt when she went to lift his arm. He's not thrilled with that movement, but he'll bite his tongue and get through it. ] But alcohol--[ He honestly had no reason as to why he needed it right now. He just knew he was in pain right now and it would make him feel much better. ] Like someone ran it over with a car?

Yeah, I can tell. [ Hard in the head, too. s a r c a s m . Excellent work, life. -- Yeah, no. Jason doesn't exactly think he's gooey either. ]

[Yes, because explosions are just the most charming.] It blew up. I don't suppose you have any clue as to how things started exploding, Barton?