Ana Lucia hits harder. (i_was_a_cop) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-08-30 22:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | ana lucia cortez, clint barton (hawkeye) |
Who: Clint Barton & Ana Lucia Cortez
When: August 17th, afternoon.
Where: Dog park
What: Meet-cute
Rating: Gen, probably.
Status: Complete
It was another gorgeous day late summer day in the OC, and Clint and Lucky were out. He’d never been agoraphobic, even with PTSD, and now that he was getting older and achey he appreciated the warm sun on his bones. Lucky did too. The old dog was stretched out on the hot pavement--too hot to walk on, Clint knew from experience--sunning himself. Clint was on a bench under a tree not too far from the dog park, Lucky’s leash looped loosely around his wrist, a battered paperback in his hand.
Owning a dog was a new experience for Ana Lucia. She had one as a kid but not for long, so taking care of one had been short lived. When someone had posted Sasha's face on Valar, however, Ana had fallen in love with the young pit bull and taken her home that week.
The lessons for Ana had started quickly; it was as if owning a four legged toddler. Sasha was curious about everything and so got into everything. Any time Ana turned around Sasha was carrying around one of Ana’s shoes, chewing on her couch (one corner had minimal teething marks), or watching the seagulls fly by from the view of the ocean Ana Lucia’s condo afforded. If that wasn’t enough, Sasha constantly tried to reach the table to see what Ana was eating, she tried to sniff out every scent she found when being walked which made the walks twice as long some days. And she loved every. Single. Dog. She met.
Which was why when Ana Lucia had decided to try to get Sasha’s energy out at the dog run she’d discovered, it was all she could do as they walked there to keep Sasha in line. The young dog was pulling like a draft horse towards the sounds and scents of the other dogs, and when she wasn’t pulling, she was leaping about excitedly and tugging on the leash with her mouth as if to urge her owner on.
“Sasha, calm down!” Ana laughed, albeit a little in exasperation. She ruffled the dog’s head. She had loosened the leash around her wrist to rearrange her grip when Sasha suddenly jerked to the side, nearly causing Ana to fall over. As a result, the leash slipped from her hand and the pup was suddenly on the loose! “Sasha!” Ana Lucia yelled in a panic. “No! Sasha, get back here dammit!” She chased after the pup, who was making a beeline for the man on the bench and his dog sunning himself.
Lucky might be old and half-asleep, but a cry of alarm was enough to get him to raise his head, and get to his feet as the pitbull charged. Clint, for his part, didn’t notice anything until he felt the whump of a warm, furry body against his legs. Startled, he looked down at the dog, and shot Lucky a reproachful look. “Some protector you are,” he muttered, frowning as the dog wound her leash around Clint’s legs. If he hadn’t been sitting before, he would’ve been hobbled now. Lucky, now that he realized that the dog wasn’t a threat, simply laid back down.
He glanced around behind dark sunglasses, because escaped dogs were usually followed by flailing people, in his experience. There did seem to be a woman headed his way, and the corner of his mouth turned up as he jerked his head towards her once she was within shouting distance.
“This mutt belong to you?”
"Yeah!" she called back, slowing to a trot before coming to a stop in front of the trio. She was hardly out of breath, her job kept her in top shape, but she breathed out "Sorry." regardless. "She doesn't mean any harm, she's really friendly." It seemed she had to preface every interaction Sasha had with people with the same speech. Pit bulls did have an unfortunate stigma that was hard to shake.
"Sasha! Ven aca!" Ana hissed, trying to sound dominant. Sasha was too enamoured with this new stranger and his dog to bother with commands. She looked up at the man in sunglasses happily, thin tail whumping against his tied up legs, and in a heartbeat had already forgotten him and was straining to get to Lucky. Ana knelt, trying to hurriedly unwrap the leash from the stranger's legs. "I'm so sorry." She kept saying, face starting to flush with embarrassment. "She's still a puppy and I'm kinda new at this." Unwrapping the leash finally, Ana tried to pull Sasha back so she could leave the older dog alone. But of course Sasha bucked and squirmed and in just the right twist pulled out of her collar. "Aw crap!" Ana shouted. Free at last Sasha bounded over to the other dog and started sniffing him carefully before suddenly bounding backwards and play bowing, tail going back and forth like a pendulum. Ana Lucia threw up her hands in the air and sighed in exasperation.
Clint heard very little of the woman’s speech, though he could follow along and fake it well enough--she was sorry, and embarrassed, and she was trying to get the dog to behave, when the dog had no desire to do anything other than play. There was an awkward moment when she reached between his legs, and he made an unconscious sound of protest, which had gotten Lucky to his feet, which was probably why the dog had bounded over to him to play.
Lucky, by now immune to puppish bids for play, simply stood there, even when Sasha began pawing him in earnest, swiping at him playfully. He stared at Clint like it was his fault this was happening to him, and Clint returned the look, throwing his hands up. “Well, what do you expect me to do about it, bud? Not everyone’s a trained service dog.”
The comment was directed at the dog, and not the woman, but that might be unclear amid the chaos.
Ana Lucia meanwhile saw her opportunity to grab Sasha while she was rolling onto her back in a desperate submissive bid for play. The poor pup just didn't get that the other dog wasn't interested. She grabbed the collar and pushed it back onto her head, then grabbed the leash two-handed.
"Wait, what?" Ana Lucia twisted around at the man's words and realized he was talking to his dog. She looked at the service dog (who was now getting licked in the face by Sasha before Ana jerked her away) and then back at the man.
She couldn’t figure out his age, but he seemed a bit rough around the edges. Or more like worn. Like ex-military that had seen a lot. He had sunglasses on, maybe he was blind? She'd seen enough of that sort of thing back in New York City. But there was a book in his hands and it didn't look like it was in braille.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize." She struggled to keep Sasha from going for the other dog, stepping back. Sasha saw the man and decided he might want to play and so started rubbing up against his legs and sitting down, staring up adorably at him.
Ana managed a tired chuckle. "I think she's in love with you and your dog." She stood there awkwardly. She didn't want to sit down next to him in case of personal space issues plus Sasha would just be all over his dog again. "I'm Ana Lucia."
Clint allowed his attention to be grabbed by the dog, who was, indeed, very sweet.
He glanced up in time to see her last words, and nodded his head slowly in agreement. He actually had no idea what she said, and it was probably about time that he should admit that. He sighed and took one hand off the dog’s face to gesture at his ear.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t catch that. Hearing’s not so good. So...you mind repeating that?” Lucky, in the way of all dogs, had nudged in closer for attention once he’d seen Clint giving the other dog attention, and Clint patted his face indulgently.
Ana was too startled to figure out which part he missed. She figured she’d skip the dog crush part and go for the introductions. “I’M ANA LUCIA,” she shouted slowly, emphasizing the words clearly with her mouth. “I THINK YOU’VE MADE A NEW FRIEND.” Sasha was startled by the yelling and ceased the heart melting act to stare and cock her head to one side at her owner who was using a tone of voice reserved for what she thought was just for her. Sasha barked once, then settled back against her new BFF, resting her chin on his leg as if to say, “Don’t worry, she does that with me too.”
Clint stared, the corner of his mouth twitching. It wasn’t the first time someone had responded to learning about his ‘condition’ in by shouting and and speaking slowly. He patted the dog on her head, consolingly.
“....yeah,” he drawled slowly. He pulled off his sunglasses, squinting up at the woman--Anna something if he’d read that right. The exaggerated way of speaking tended to make lip-reading more difficult. “You don’t have to do that. The whole...slow-shouty thing,” he clarified. “Just...speak like you would normally. Or...here--.” He pulled out his phone and tapped to the Notes program, holding it out for the woman to take.
“Write it down? Names are hard. So many spellings, you know? Tiffany with a ‘i’ and ‘ph’,” he joked.
Ana Lucia, for all her pretenses at being an unreadable New Yorker, looked absolutely embarrassed and a bit horrified at how much of an ass she had suddenly just made of herself.
"Oh uh okay," she took the phone and typed in her name and an apology. She handed it back, pushing back wavy brown hair as she was suddenly aware she felt flush.
Clint squinted down at the screen and put on his shades again. Best to ignore her discomfort and just move on. “Ana Lucia,” he read, and then looked up at her, and smiled. “Right. Well. I got half of it right. I’m Clint. That’s Lucky,” he jerked his head at the old dog, still looking pathetic because Clint was paying attention to a dog who wasn’t him. “So, what’s this pretty girl’s name?”
"Nice to meet you, Clint. And Lucky." She hesitated from petting him. "S'ok if I pet him?" She nodded at her own dog. "That little bundle of energy is Sasha."
“Sasha?” Clint repeated. The dog responded, which was a good sign, but Lucky responded to ‘Dummy’ if Clint said it forcefully enough. “And--that’s fine. He’s on a break right now. If he’s got his harness on, he’s working, but….” he nodded at the harness on the bench next to him.
"Ah," Ana nodded and leaned down to give Lucky some attention, gently petting the older dog's head. "Look at you, old man." She smiled at him and gently scratched behind his ear. Sasha, suddenly realizing she was no longer the center of attention, stopped loving on Clint and watched Ana. She gave a jealous little bark and scrambled over, sniffing Lucky's greying snout and coming between he and Ana.
"Sasha," Ana chastised gently. She then realized Sasha was more interested in snuggling up to Lucky than keeping Ana to herself. Ana Lucia gave up, flopping down onto the bench next to Clint. She made sure to face him as she spoke. Normally. "I think your old man's got a young fangirl." And she laughed.
“He’s a favorite,” Clint agreed. He kept his phone out, resting casually on his thigh in case he needed it to communicate, but angled his head towards her. He took in her appearance--attractive, fit, and for some inexplicable reason, sticking around to talk to him. He felt at once incredibly flattered, and incredibly old.
“So…” he said slowly. “Had her long?”
She wished he'd take his sunglasses off. He looked badass with them on but the fleeting glimpse she'd had of his unobstructed features had barely been enough for an impression. From what she'd gathered he was handsome. Not generally the sort Ana'd necessarily go for but not one she'd turn away from either.
"Little over a month," she said, glancing at the pair. "She's a rescue. Someone on Valar posted about her so I figured why not. It's just me anyways so." She shrugged and smiled back over at Clint. "What about you?"
“Lucky and I have been together for ten years,” Clint answered. “He’s been my ears ever since I came back….” he gestured at his ear with a hand. “But...did you say Valar? The uh...what do you call it? Message board? Blog?” Though he could navigate the technology easily enough, he still didn’t know what it was, exactly.
"Wow, ten years." She turned and started petting Lucky again, while Sasha sank to the ground and then rolled onto her back trying to get attention. Mostly from the older dog.
"Yeah that social media site...thing." she wasn't sure what it was called herself. She had Facebook but that was for staying connected to family. She didn't even bother with Twitter. Valar was something of a hybrid and she was fine with that. "You on there too?"
Clint hummed and nodded his head. “It was suggested to me by my last girlfriend that I might have become something of a hermit,” he said, vaguely. “Valar seemed to be a place to meet people.” And he had, technically, although perhaps not in the way that he’d thought. He tilted his head to the side and regarded Sasha upside down, smiling as he nudged her with his shoe. She really was sweet, and silly. He lifted his head again towards the woman. “So, what about you? How’d you get suckered?”
That was not a question Ana Lucia had been ready for. Her expression took a suddenly distant turn, closing up. There might have been a hint of guilt for a fleeting moment.
"Oh uh, I used to be a cop and um, I came out here looking for my partner's killer. He was killed on the job." Yay, things had now turned decidedly awkward and dark. She was surprised she had even managed to get that out. Ana hoped it was a sign of progress. Perhaps on some level Sam's weekly meetings with her were helping with more than just the dreams.
Sasha, oblivious to the human conversation, wiggled on her back, trying to get the tip of Clint's shoe. She was just able to nip at it with the edge of her teeth and she nibbled, testing the material and to make sure she wasn't hurting him.
Clint frowned, because he was 90% certain her answer wasn’t to what he’d asked. How did a partner dying equal logging on to an online community?
“I must have misunderstood,” he said, slowly. “I meant...how did you get involved with Valar?”
Ana realized she hadn’t elaborated properly. It felt so long ago, that it was old history for her now, despite the pain, and Ana was one who internalized too much. Explaining personal issues/traumas and whatnot was something she was still getting used to doing, and one of the things Sam Wilson was helping her with.
“Oh, sorry. I didn't explain that right at all.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “See, I was NYPD.” She made sure to face him, and had half a mind to write it down, but decided to try talking it out first. “My partner was killed in action. I left the department to track down his killer, which led me here. I found Valar and used it to try to find information on him, connect with people who might help me. Law enforcement and those not quite law enforcement,” she smirked a little, inferring less reputable characters. “It worked actually.” She left out of the part where she had nearly killed the guy once she found him. For all she knew he had bled out and died. The lack of gang retaliation had left her uneasy for months, but by now, she didn’t really worry about it. "Through all that I got to know the people on Valar. Some of 'em, anyway." There were a lot of people on there and she wasn't really the friend making type. She had been more outgoing before her partner died but not so much now.
Okay, that he could follow. Clint smiled briefly and then nodded. “I’m sorry. About your partner,” he clarified. “And it’s good they could help you out--the Valar people. It’s...hard. When you lose someone.” He’d lost more buddies during the war than he cared to remember.
Sasha, perhaps sensing the change in mood, stopped gnawing on Clint’s shoe and sat up, whining, and Clint scratched her behind her ears.
Lucky seemed to know as well, and gently nudged Ana's hand. She stroked the dog's graying head. "Thanks. It is." She wanted to ask who he'd lost but they'd just met; seemed too prying. But the conversation reminded her... "You said earlier, that you got Lucky when you 'got back'. Iraq? Afghanistan?"
Clint’s eyebrow raised behind his glasses. The war was still a delicate topic, even now, and he’d been back for ten years. He nodded, though his tone was wary, his expression cautious. “Spent some time in both places, yeah.” He pointed at his ear again. “Blast trauma. 70% hearing loss in both ears.” Just enough remained to be annoying.
Ana nodded. It all made sense now, her hunch had been correct after all. And he'd been serving during the thick of it, during some of the roughest early years of the wars. She felt like thanking him for his service despite being a veteran herself. "Did one tour in Iraq. National Guard." She'd been shot but it had not been as serious as injuries she'd seen others sustain, and certainly didn't compare to Clint's hearing loss so she didn't bother mentioning it. Besides only POGs talked up things like that.
Ana had the feeling Clint was more than just a "weekend warrior", like her. Ana was proud of her service but more than once had gotten looks of derision from career Army who seemed to have disdain outside of the "sandbox" for the Guard.
Clint hadn’t expected Ana to have also served, but he smiled, and inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Hell of a thing,” he said, quietly.
He wasn’t one of those vets who looked down on the National Guard. It wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t what they’d signed up for. It wasn’t what any of them had signed up for, really. He might be wary of some of the “private contractors”--otherwise known as mercenaries for hire--but that was different.
“I wasn’t over there long. Signed up after 9/11. Discharged in 2004,” he added, because that sometimes made a difference.
Ana nodded in acknowledgement. "Yeah," She kept petting Lucky as they spoke. She felt his chin rest on her knee and she smiled down at the dog. When Clint mentioned when he served her brown eyes went a little wide. "Shit. That was some of the worst of it." She sighed a little "I went in '06. Nothing prepares you for that flight in from Kuwait." She smirked knowingly.
Clint shuddered, theatrically, and then smiled. “You’re not kidding.” He ruffled Sasha’s fur and bopped her nose, playfully, until she licked his fingers in retaliation. “So, is Sasha for anything? Or just a companion?”
Ana laughed a little; it was soldier humor after all. She hadn’t really bonded much with any fellow veterans when she’d gotten back; it’d been straight back to the NYPD and then all the chaos that came after her partner getting killed. It was nice to be able to just sit with someone who understood where she had been and experienced.
“No, she’s not a service dog.” Ana said, looking affectionately at her. “I haven’t had a dog since I was a kid, and even then it wasn’t very long. Plus I’m by myself so it beats binge watching stuff on Netflix every night.” She bopped Sasha’s nose once too. “She does help with the dreams though. Wake up in a cold sweat, freaking out, not knowing where you are. And she’s right there with you, and then things are okay.” She failed to explain that they weren’t PTSD dreams but the special brand that came with living in Orange County. She was coming up on a year so it was part of her vernacular now.
Clint nodded, knowingly. He’d been haunted by nightmares for years. “Dogs are the best,” he agreed. “I probably wouldn’t be as sane as I am without him,” he admitted. Even if Lucky was his service dog, he was his companion too. His friend. His best friend. “And he keeps me active, even if neither of us are too active anymore. Too old and cranky,” he added, joking.
Ana Lucia chuckled. “Old my ass. You don’t look a day over twenty five.” She was teasing. But he didn’t look old to her at all. “But yeah, now with all these walks with Sasha, it is doing me some good, gotta say. I just figured maybe instead of the beach she might like meeting other dogs for once, it’s why I’m here.” She remembered he had a book in his hands. “I’m sorry if we interrupted your reading. If you want to get back to it, we should probably get going anyway.”
The flattery was nice; unexpected. He laughed, good-naturedly, ducked his head, and nodded. “Always nice to meet people. But don’t let me keep you, and don’t let him fool you,” he added, nodding his head towards Lucky, who was making pathetic eyes. “He gets plenty of love. You can leave and he won’t die. I promise.”
Ana laughed. “That’s good to know.” She picked up the phone that was balanced on his leg and tapped in her phone number and email, then handed it back to him. “I’m on Valar, but not as much as some others.” She smiled. “It was nice meeting you too.” She looked at Sasha whose ears perked up as Ana approached with the leash. Clipping it onto her collar, Ana said with praise, “Good girl,” and then went over to Lucky to pat him on the head one more time. Sasha trotted up to him and nuzzled his greying muzzle once more before Ana gently tugged her away.
“See you around, Clint.” she waved and headed on her way to the dog park with Sasha in tow.
Clint returned the wave and then exchanged a look with Lucky, who flopped over at Clint’s feet. “It took ten years, but you’re finally a girl magnet,” he mused, affectionately, and reopened his book.