Who: Kate Bishop and Clint Barton When: Wednesday Afternoon Where: Bungalow Five What: Hopefully not disaster!
"Clint!"
There was a momentary pause before Kate, quite loudly, called out for her proverbial better half.
"Clint! Come on, I know you're in there. I know it's dark but that doesn't mean sleeping all day."
Okay, maybe it was. Kate could get behind that logic. That would keep her from reeking of Pumpkin Spice. It wasn't terrible, but it could be overwhelming. Lucky didn't seem to mind, though. In fact, Kate was almost certain he liked it, the traitor. If it made him happy, though, she wasn't going to take it away. It was a small sacrifice given the lack of sun and the once cheery island mood.
Lucky sat patiently, his tag brushing some sand this way and that. The pup looked up at Kate and she shrugged in return. "I don't know, buddy. You know how he sleeps through most things." If he didn't have his hearing aids in, well, that could prove problematic as well.
"Think Cap remembers to lock up?" Of course, he did. If he did, Kate was positive Addie would. At least Clint was housed with two responsible people. "Even if they do, we're totally pros at lock-picking, right?" Lucky tilted his head and gave a light bark. Frowning, Kate pulled a bobby pin from the ridiculous and messy bun. "That's a pepperoni off your next slice of pizza, sir." The response was a playful growl before Kate slid the unfolded pin into the lock.
It took longer than necessary. A good fifteen minutes, tops. Kate would chalk it up to being rusty, of course. She hadn't forgotten. That was absurd.
Pushing the door open and heading inside with Lucky on her heels, finding Clint's door wasn't hard. Did she just walk in? Knocking was always necessary with a moment to wait for a response. "Clint! Come on. Don't make me send Lucky in first! He has sand and salt water breath!"