Peter B | Clint Barton
Yeah, who could say no to a picnic? Especially one with the sort of deceny to not bring potato salad, as if there was anyone in the entire world who actually liked it.
No one liked it.
Although after a day of walking around like a moron and wondering what berries in the bushes nearby were edible, Clint had to admit probably he would have eaten it. And Lucky certainly would have.
But meat was better, and Clint had been happy to show up out of the blue, dog by his side, and take a serving all while offering Steve (multiple) thumbs ups and apparently having to introduce himself because ... because Jan was a baby here and Steve didn't know this version of him, or something. Awkward.
Speaking of awkward, he wasn't sure the Peter Parker he was staring at was quite the one he knew either. He looked a little more run down than Clint recalled, but maybe that was normal here. Bad shit happened and that was enough to make anyone look tired, and like they might have needed a shave a few days prior.