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Hmm. What should I acquire next?

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"A degree?" Clint Barton, everybody.

Edited 2015-05-25 22:47 (UTC)

There's a little frown of thought followed by an impish smile. "Hmm. Yes. But whose?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure Doc Doom's came out of a Cracker Jack box, so not that one. You could always go for your own?"

"I do not think la Sorbonne offers degrees in larceny." Because if she's going to go for something, it's going to be the best. But... "Who is 'Doc Doom'?"

"Victor von Doom, 'Doctor,' self-appointed despot of Latveria. He's so good at science, he put a burning-hot metal mask on his face. Super-genius."

Bandette's just going to stare at him now, because there is no way anyone is that dumb.

"Exactly. Oh, get this, he did it because he was mad he messed his face up doing science."

Yeah. She's got nothing.

"Yeah."

"No, I will not seek amusement with such a fool. Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Hmm, Art History?"

"I have studied such things extensively! It is most important for the world's greatest thief to be discerning, non?"

"Well, exactly. So getting an Art History degree oughta be a snap, right?"

...

"Gonna let that 'world's greatest thief' bit slide."

She gives him a moment's look, a weighing and a measuring. He'd better not be a bigger fan of Monsieur!

"But where is the pleasure in something acquired too easily?"

Edited 2015-05-25 23:46 (UTC)

"Okay, go for something harder. A Master's degree? Full-on doctorate? A job that actually uses the degree you got to get it?"

"I don't think you're understanding the nature of my occupation, Clint." Somebody's missing a wallet. (The real question is when she had a chance to go through it without his noticing.)

"No, you're a thief, I get i--Aw, wallet. I used to be a thief, myself."

There's his driver's license, Avenger's ID, the key to a '70 Dodge Challenger, assorted cards, a little cash.

She gives it back. Nothing's missing, lucky him. "Then why this obsession with my doing something else?"

"Because I did a pretty good job wreckin' my life when I was a thief, and I've seen a lotta thieves from the other side, gettin' their lives wrecked. You seem like a good kid, you're meant for better."

"Better? I am the best! I have the presto."

"The presto? What's that?"

"It's presto! It is the secret to my success!"

"Maybe it's the language barrier, but that doesn't explain much in English. And I'm no good at French, sorry."

"You understood the word 'secret', yes?"

"Yeah, I just figured... former thief, professional courtesy, trade secret, not-in-the-trade-anymore..."

"Non. Thieves are as cats. We scratch at each other."

"Yeah, but I'm not a thief anymore, so I'm... declawed? That metaphor kinda fell apart."

"If you wish to know Bandette's secrets, you must earn the privilege!"

"Alright. I'll prob'ly regret this, but how?"

"We shall see."

"Okay, I set myself up for that one."

"Yeah, you really did." How can he stay mad at a grin like that?

How can anyone? "I'll... show you one of my tricks?"

"Hmm. What are your tricks?"

"Well, not to brag, but I'm the world's greatest archer, and I do a pretty mean grilled cheese."

She looks intrigued. "How do you grill the cheese?"

"Well, you put it between two slices of bread, and you get a skillet really hot. The trick is, you butter the outside of the sandwich, so it gets all crispy-good and the cheese melts in the middle."

Well, that's disappointing. "C'est un croque-monsieur without the ham," she points out.

"'S not a rule says you can't add stuff."

"Fortunate, or else we wouldn't have un croque-madame."

"I'm not sure what that is. Other than French."

"It is un croque-monsieur with an egg on top."

"That sounds really good."

"It is. I prefer the poached egg, so the yolk mixes with the béchamel."

"That sounds good, too. Damn, now I'm hungry."

"Mm, me too. Thank you for helping me decide!" Because now she's going to acquire food.

"Uh, sure, no problem."

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