"Leather, I wore leather. Spandex is outdated 'n 'm ashamed you would even suggest that I would wear it."
He fought back a laugh the entire time he said that. Clint had never taken himself seriously wearing his costume but it was way more discreet and...better than what Steve had to wear whenever they went out on the field. When he first saw the costume Phil had designed for his hero. He had all but fallen out of his chair laughing. Something Phil had expected but then he had corrected himself quickly by saying the cap would love it. Clint could still remember the look of utter joy in Phil's eyes at the idea of being able to help design a costume for his personal hero to wear. Clint allowed the fist to hit his shoulder. Even on a good day, it still didn't hurt him. "'m not a jerkass. 'm sometimes chivalrous with a side of sarcasm. It's a beautiful mixture, don't get me wrong." Oh, Kenzi. Clint noticed all. He ducked his head with a light-hearted grin crossing his face at the blush like some kid before pouring himself another shot. God he was going to end up regretting this.
But he didn't like the memories that typically lit up at stupid o'clock in the morning. He didn't like the regret. And he especially didn't like what Kenzi had mentioned about mesmers. What is it with faes that could take over a person? Was it universe against him or something. He had nearly frozen up at the idea. His smile fading before he looked over his shoulder at Bo trying to get some information. Apparently Dyson and Hale had invited themselves into the interrogation party while the "useless" humans decided to take shots and talk shop amongst themselves. Clint flexed his hands a bit before downing the shot and sliding the glass away from himself. He was capping himself off for the night, something about knowing he needed to get his head in the game clicked on inside his head. "Chop...off the hands? I got...some new toys with this mesmer's name on them." He smirked before he moved to his feet, catching Hale's sad/angry look from the reflection in bar mirror.
He was going to be a jerkass now. He had to be. Jealously was never a good thing in men. Hale seemed like the quiet jealous type. Clint was the openly jealous type and had, already, on more then one occasion walk in with Hale and Kenzi flirting up a storm. He could always blame it on the al-al-alcohol as he leaned over. "I promise, 'll be good. No touchin'. I got some sources, 'll go hit 'em up and get back to you guys with what I got." Clint leaned in before pressing his lips against hers and making a quick bee-line for the door as he pulled out the keys to his bike. The smirk on his face as he passed Hale might have been a hint to the siren...and he was pretty sure he didn't want to face the wrath of Kenzi if he turned around with some stupid smirk plastered on his face.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-09-19 05:12 am (UTC)He fought back a laugh the entire time he said that. Clint had never taken himself seriously wearing his costume but it was way more discreet and...better than what Steve had to wear whenever they went out on the field. When he first saw the costume Phil had designed for his hero. He had all but fallen out of his chair laughing. Something Phil had expected but then he had corrected himself quickly by saying the cap would love it. Clint could still remember the look of utter joy in Phil's eyes at the idea of being able to help design a costume for his personal hero to wear. Clint allowed the fist to hit his shoulder. Even on a good day, it still didn't hurt him. "'m not a jerkass. 'm sometimes chivalrous with a side of sarcasm. It's a beautiful mixture, don't get me wrong." Oh, Kenzi. Clint noticed all. He ducked his head with a light-hearted grin crossing his face at the blush like some kid before pouring himself another shot. God he was going to end up regretting this.
But he didn't like the memories that typically lit up at stupid o'clock in the morning. He didn't like the regret. And he especially didn't like what Kenzi had mentioned about mesmers. What is it with faes that could take over a person? Was it universe against him or something. He had nearly frozen up at the idea. His smile fading before he looked over his shoulder at Bo trying to get some information. Apparently Dyson and Hale had invited themselves into the interrogation party while the "useless" humans decided to take shots and talk shop amongst themselves. Clint flexed his hands a bit before downing the shot and sliding the glass away from himself. He was capping himself off for the night, something about knowing he needed to get his head in the game clicked on inside his head. "Chop...off the hands? I got...some new toys with this mesmer's name on them." He smirked before he moved to his feet, catching Hale's sad/angry look from the reflection in bar mirror.
He was going to be a jerkass now. He had to be. Jealously was never a good thing in men. Hale seemed like the quiet jealous type. Clint was the openly jealous type and had, already, on more then one occasion walk in with Hale and Kenzi flirting up a storm. He could always blame it on the al-al-alcohol as he leaned over. "I promise, 'll be good. No touchin'. I got some sources, 'll go hit 'em up and get back to you guys with what I got." Clint leaned in before pressing his lips against hers and making a quick bee-line for the door as he pulled out the keys to his bike. The smirk on his face as he passed Hale might have been a hint to the siren...and he was pretty sure he didn't want to face the wrath of Kenzi if he turned around with some stupid smirk plastered on his face.