overplays | a boy with a coin

[ there are a lot of advantages to working for SHIELD, despite the occasional discomfort with their hush hush business. they give their operatives a lot of autonomy, both in conducting missions and dealing with their downtime. do the job as you please, spend your time as you please, as long as it doesn't involve a ton of collateral damage or anything that will terribly impair function the next day. for a secret organization, they give their agents a lot of trust - probably, clint muses, because all of them know failure and betrayal tends to be looked on very harshly. kind of borders movie-villain material, if he considers it long enough. that and you've got access to some of the most high end facilities and equipment on the planet.

picking up the pieces after the fight with loki and the chitauri hasn't exactly been easy. though SHIELD itself has mostly recovered, repairing things quickly and quietly as ever and already hiring new recruits, clint's still adjusting. to his new handler, to hearing someone other than coulson talk to him over the earpiece, to the guilt that still haunts him over the things he'd done and people he'd killed while under loki's influence. natasha had told him don't do that to yourself but he'd always kind of been shit at listening to advice, to shrugging off these kinds of blows and it weighs on his mind and heart when no one's paying attention. he can't let it go. not just yet.

that's where the 'high end facilities' come in.

usually he spends his day in the firing range, keeping his aim sharp, but that's not where he wants to put his mind today. SHIELD headquarters has more than a few training grounds for its agents, and the gym it houses is expansive, full of equipment for all kinds of exercise. it's quiet today, as clint sometimes find it, empty of anyone when he steps inside. it's perfect. he doesn't exactly need an audience for what he's about to do.

he plugs his mp3 player ('starkpod', he calls it when tony's around, because the expression on his face is priceless) into the stereo system, scrolls through songs. he finds an instrumental consisting of a fast-paced acoustic guitar and chattering castanets that pick up a little while in, nods in satisfaction and rocks back on his feet as it blares through the empty gym. he stretches first, loosens up muscles and limbs as he counts beats in his head as easily as he calculates for wind force and other factors when taking aim. takes a breath in and lets it out slow before he lets himself move with the music, stomping feet on the hardwood accentuating the tempo of the guitar, eyes closed as he remembers the steps, the style. he idly thinks on antonia's words back when she'd been teaching him as a young boy, how she told him he wouldn't really master it until he was older, how he didn't know the soul and emotion the steps required just yet.

he likes to hope that if the bearded lady saw him now, she'd think he was doing her country's dance justice.

you learn a lot of unusual things when you lived in a circus for a lot of your childhood and adolescence. it's clint's story and he's going to stick to it, but hopefully it's one that won't have to be told. 'hawkeye, the world's greatest marksman and flamenco enthusiast' isn't exactly something he wants anyone knowing if it can be helped. ]

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This isn't exactly what someone would call the 'average life' though, is it? [It's definitely getting some more confusion because he knows he's not that behind on things and how the world has changed. He's had time to figure out things, basics at least as far as he knows - the basic... 'basics', to be honest. Dropping his hand back to his side, he listens to the answer, smiles.] Yeah? You're starting to sound like a jack of all trades, is there anything you can't do?

[Nodding as the other explains, Steve shifts a little and thinks on the idea, not sure about it still. He's used to having to wait for people to answer, not quite on the idea of pushing a few buttons and having that person there without too much effort. Still, it sounds easy enough, if it's just a phone without those strings attached. ] I'd have to think about it some more, but I'd like that. It might be easy to find me, but it is pretty hard figuring out where the rest of you are, sometimes..

You- what? [His brows raise, those eyes widen again and he's gotta think about the idea - Barton probably had Thor in his sights, arrow raised and well.. he can't imagine what the other was doing. He read the file on the Asgardian, but details like that don't stay long, only the important ones: friendly, powerful, of another world, related to the Tesseract, and so on.] Must've been a sight, mind telling me that story another time?

- Really. [He moves for a moment, wrings at his hands for a moment because he can't help but feel a little embarrassed for some reason, like he's asking something stupid but can't help it. He lets out a sigh, his shoulders drop just a little.]

Is it too much to ask? Because I understand if it is, honest.

Might be why I ended up here. [ no, this definitely isn't the average life at all, at least not in the widely accepted definition of it. then again, that's basically been the story of his life from a young age, not to mention the other avengers. they all exceed average lives, so maybe they don't count. either way - ] I can't swallow swords. Baqi was paranoid about people butting in on his act. Can't contort either; I'm flexible, but not that flexible.

[ there's a nod for the words, respecting the decision. it makes sense that steve would be a bit hesitant on it all, considering his slow adjustment to the world around him and the differences he's missed. ] No rush. Besides, even with a phone there's no guarantee you could keep track of Banner or Thor. Banner's good at getting lost, and I'm pretty sure cell phones don't function in Asgard. Probably because the long-distance fees would be a nightmare. [ and speaking of the demi-god, clint's pretty sure he's never going to get tired of those reactions from steve, unable to help a small laugh. ] Sure. Big guy himself could probably spice it up a bit too.

[ he watches, listens to the sincerity in steve's words and sees it in his mannerisms, and he can't help feeling... well, pretty flattered, actually. that someone he holds in such respect would ask him something like that. a hand goes to rub the back of his neck, eyes going elsewhere, now something close to sheepish himself. a rarity these days. ] I, uh - no, it's fine. Just wasn't expecting that, is all. But... all right. You enjoyed it that much, I wouldn't mind putting on another show.

[ it's not like there's any harm in it, when he knows steve isn't going to say something about it if clint doesn't want him to. and hell, he's in the mood to do a bit of showing off he hasn't gotten the chance to do before. so he moves back to the mp3 player to put on an appropriate song, waving vaguely over his shoulder to motion steve to find somewhere to sit so he can watch. ]

You go where you want to, that's what I believe.

[He offers a smile at the reply, shrugs before scratching at the back of his head. That stops once Clint answers his other question, and if he's getting used to seeing a wide-eyed Cap, then the next scene that happens is predictable, up to the flash of that smile.] I think we'll be just fine without you knowing how to do that, to be honest. If we need a sword swallower though, maybe we can call him.

I know that, but it'd probably be better than nothi- Phones can go that far? [He's still not over the fact that these don't really need telephone poles or cords of any sort, so hearing the idea of calling Thor wherever he is, however far, is baffling enough. His mouth gapes as he thinks on it, then he shakes his head and decides to let go of the topic.]

I'll hold you to that then.

You- really- [wide eyes for a moment] I uh, thanks, Clint.

[For the sake of the answer to his request, he moves off from that topic, keeps it as a promise instead of something to do later, instead of now. When the yes gets said, Steve's face lights up, an easy smile finds its way there and he watches the hawk's face, his actions. His eyes don't leave the other as he moves, and he thinks about following after the other for a second, but he stops himself because of the wave. Tilting his head to think about it, there's a nod and he shuffles to the side, finds a chair to sit on in a spot where he can see the other clearly.

And well, the Cap waits. He feels like a kid with how excited he seems to be, but he passes it off as just a result of his good mood. Something like that. Dancing never really is something he got to learn (and that in itself is a sad thought) but being able to watch someone else who appeared to know how to dance, and dance well?

He couldn't help but be excited, smile still stuck to his face.]

[ he can't help the small smile that crosses his mouth at those words, thankful his back's turned to the captain. for all the trouble that happened with loki, for everything still weighing on clint, honest belief from a near stranger is nice to hear. he doesn't speak as he scrolls through his playlist for a good song to dance to, letting the silence settle over the gym for the moment. he finds a song he likes and clicks the play button, letting the beginning notes filter through the speakers as he stands straight, takes a breath in as he moves back to the middle of the floor, closing his eyes as he lets his mind drift elsewhere.

hey, even clint barton can get a case of nerves performing in front of someone like captain america. if it were a show of his archery skill it'd be a different story, but this is... this is dancing, something no one's really seen from him before. a private show. it's a bit different.

but he puts it all aside, letting himself focus on the music, his breathing, body beginning to move. it starts with his feet, hitting the floor in rhythm, but soon enough his whole body's going, feet keeping the time as he paces circles, twists and spins, arms and hands accentuating the movements. it all feels as natural as breathing, as hitting his target with perfect accuracy, when he gets into the right state of mind. forgets everything around him and just moves as the music inspires him to.

soon enough the song ends, and clint comes to a stop back in front of steve, letting out a quiet exhale. he opens his eyes, drops his arms and lets a half-smirk appear. ]

Might've looked better with one of those flowing dresses, but I doubt I'm the kind of man to pull that off.

[At first, Steve's sitting straight with his back pressed to the chair, hands on his upper thighs because they don't really have anywhere else to go. The silence has him more curious than uncomfortable, because he's used to both loud and quiet situations from battle, from camp, from awkward moments as he tries to figure out how to talk to a nice girl even. The song starts up and his head tilts just slightly to the left as if that'll get him to hear it better. His lips are drawn in a fine line, but when agent Barton moves to the middle of the room, the corners tug up just slightly, and offer a smile before he closes his eyes.

Steve watches, and he watches with full attention because he doesn't want to do otherwise. If he were just being nice, he wouldn't have seen much else than Clint stomping his feet, moving around the floor to the song but he sees more, finds the rhythm in the movements, the wonder in the dance and its nature.

And by the time the song is over, Steve's hunched over, his forearms are pressed to the top of his knees and his expression is in awe. His eyes have something unreadable in them and his head is tilted to the point where he's almost got a shoulder pressed to the side of it but he stops himself, straightens up a little once it ends, once the archer has stopped and is in front of him. Sheepish, he's shaking his head at the comment, eyes still on the other man.]

For what it's worth, I think that was just perfect, flowing dress or not. [Sitting back up fully, he claps a little for the other to convey his appreciation.] Really though, I think that was unlike anything I've ever seen before.

I'm a little jealous, to be honest. [Considering you know, he doesn't know how to dance.]

a boy with a coin

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