Who: Clint and Gamora What: Talkin’ talkin’ talkin’ Where: COFFEE When: November 20th
It was snowing. Clint wasn’t a big fan of snow, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it. He’d grown up in Iowa, after all, and had decided to relocate to a just as chilly, if not entirely more happening, New York for a good majority of his life. But just because someone was used to something didn’t mean that they had to like it. Someday crime fighting might take him to make a life in Hawaii or something, and wouldn’t that be nice? He could surf on his days off. Bucky could be the Aloha Soldier. This was all, of course, just daydreaming because they were all here and they didn’t get to choose location or climate for even a second.
He was sitting on top of the counter-top, generally meant to be a table to those who came in for a cuppa and a chat, but the place was mostly empty right now, on account of the snow and the fact that it looked like a bunch of the younger folks were out there building a properly scaled igloo.
“Well,” he said, looking away from the big windows and toward Gamora who looked to be manning the coffee machine only for the two of them for the time being. “What do you think? Will people show up for coffee and hot chocolate or are we wasting our time today?”