Sharon Carter is a super spy (exshieldagent) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-09-08 18:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, clint barton (hawkeye), sharon carter |
Who: Sharon Carter and Clint Barton
When: Sept 1ish
Where: Dog Park, Cafe
What: The kids bump into each other again.
Rating/Warnings: Low/None
Status: Complete
It felt like a whole year had gone by, not simply a few weeks. Sharon was back at the dog park, letting Pete have a run. This time she was tossing the ball for him, and laughing when it came back covered in sand, spit and salt water. Pete himself was acting like a puppy--something he didn’t do all that often, being the old dog that he was--and it made Sharon happy. Honestly, she felt happier than she’d felt in a while. Director Fury was on the road to recovery, the new job was going well, she’d been out a few times with friends and… something else.
She bent down to scratch Pete behind the ears, and accepted the disgusting ball from him again. “Go long, boy!” She said, and lifted it to throw--Pete took off at a sprint down the beach.
Pete was beaten to the chase by another dog--
--Lucky, who snatched it, and then trotted back towards Sharon.
Clint followed behind, leash off and partially dangling from the pocket of his shorts as he managed to look both pleased and chagrinned.
“Sorry about that,” he drawled, and grinned, sheepish. “Bastard got away from me.”
Sharon didn’t mind. Pete likely didn’t, either. Pete was still in puppy-mode, jumping around, tail wagging frantically, a mirror of his master’s emotions.
“Hey, that’s okay,” Sharon grinned, looking Clint in the eyes. She remembered his hearing (or lack there of?) and wanted to make sure that he could read her lips if he needed to. Though, there wasn’t much wind--only the sound of the waves getting in the way of her voice.
Pete barked, happily, nudging Lucky with his shoulder.
Sharon bent down to accept the ball from the other dog, gave him a scratch behind his ears, then lifted the ball to throw again. The dogs could fight it out--though Pete looked as if he was more interested in playing with Lucky than going after the ball.
Lucky happily tussled with Pete, rolled him over to pin the younger dog playfully.
“It’s been awhile,” she said, attention on Clint again. He was handsome. She’d forgotten.
Clint made sure to stay where he could see Sharon’s mouth. He still didn’t catch every word--that took time, and experience, but he could get the general impression that she seemed genuinely happy to see him. He smiled again, nodded. “Good to see you,” he offered. It was, too.
“How have you been?” Sharon asked. They’d had a nice conversation before, so she was looking forward to catching up. She’d been between jobs then, and things were so much more stable now. It was really a better time for her in general. She took a couple of steps over, as if to greet him formally somehow. Shake his hand? That seemed weird. So she tucked her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. (One of those fashionable ones… more a jogging suit than anything else.)
Judging by the expectant look on her face, she’d asked him a question. Clint had to guess at what she asked, distracted by her smile, her warm brown eyes, her trim figure….
“Uh...alright,” he said, neutrally. “Keeping busy. What about you?”
"Good." She said, nodding once. She wondered for a moment if he could hear her. He had that look on his face--almost deer in headlights? She took a step closer, as if under the guise of walking down the beach. Though, she didn't really have intentions on walking, just getting a little closer.
Pete gave a happy, playful growl as the two tussled on the beach together. Sharon wasn't concerned.
"I got a new job. So, things are looking up." And new friends making her feel good about herself. That was a plus. "How are you finding Valarnet?"
It was easier now that she’d moved closer, and he could shift, partly blocking the sun from her face to catch something about a new job and then--
He smiled, rueful. “Valar, yeah. Surreal, meeting you there. It’s kind of...weird?” he said, diplomatically. “But the people seem nice.”
“Really random,” Sharon said, lifting a hand to tuck some hair behind her ear. Then she slipped it back into her pocket. “People are really nice on there. My former partner told me about it, so I had to go check it out.” Or had she found out about it before she and D’Artagnan were partners? It was blurring together now.
“What do you think about the Dreams?”
Clint nodded at her assessment of the situation as ‘random’ and tilted his head slightly at her question.
“I don’t know. Seems to be a thing people talk about. Group therapy, maybe? Seems like it helps people to talk about them, find other people who have similar dreams.” He shrugged. A few days ago he would’ve written it off as just silly nonsense, but then he’d had his dreams. “I had one, the other night. Felt real.”
“You had a dream?” Sharon asked. Her attention was completely on him now, even though the dogs brought the ball over and dropped the soggy thing at her feet. “Dream with a capital D?” She added, sounding very interested. And her voice raised a little bit, unconsciously. She hadn’t talked much about the Dreams with Remy, but that was all that John wanted to talk about, it seemed.
Her interest drew Clint’s attention, and he straightened unconsciously. “I guess? I still don’t know what capital-d-dreaming is, really.” He shrugged. “It was intense, and it wasn’t me. But it wasn’t...I don’t know...a nightmare, like some people seem to have.”
He bent, and clipped Lucky’s leash to his collar, then straightened, studying her face. “You want to go get a coffee with me, maybe? Talk about it?”
“Oh. Right.” Sharon realized that she’d done just what John had done to her. She’d shown more interest than she probably should have. A little sheepishly, she reached down to grab the ball and click Pete’s leash into place, too. “Yeah, a coffee sounds great.” She said once she was upright again, smiling warmly. “There’s a great place not too far from here.”
It’d been impulsive, a desire to move to somewhere more private if capital-d-dreams were being discussed, but it elevated the accidental meeting to something more. An accidental meeting plus coffee.
He nodded and moved next to her, gesturing towards the coffee shop he guessed she had in mind as they walked companionably, side by side.
There was a table outside with two fresh bowls of water on the ground for the dogs. Thankfully, because Sharon didn’t have anything to occupy Pete besides the soggy ball. Coffee shops weren’t exactly the best for that sort of thing. She wrapped his leash around the chair leg. “What do you want?” She asked, turning back to Clint. “I’ll pop in and get it if you stay here with the dogs.”
Clint nodded, her body language indicating that she was offering to go inside, which, good. Crowded coffeeshops could be overwhelming with the buzz of talking and noise and stress that seemed to follow people around when they were desperately seeking caffeine. Sitting outdoors was his preference, since noises tended to echo less, and he had just enough hearing left for that to be annoying.
“Iced coffee,” he replied, words mumbled slightly as he focused on getting out some cash from his wallet. He didn’t carry a lot, but $5 would be enough. He pressed the bill into her hand and flashed a grateful smile.
“Oh, you don’t have to--” Sharon said, but the bill was already in her hand. “Well… okay, I’ll just--” She wanted to say something about how she’d pay next time, but there may not be a next time. She wasn’t sure.
“--be right back.” She finished that sentence, then turned around and headed inside. The five dollars was enough for two iced coffees and two Madelines, so she came back out with them. Was he expecting change? She had some singles in her pocket.
While she was gone, Clint had settled in one of the metal chairs, and slipped Lucky’s leash around the arm. He smiled upon her return, and sipped at his coffee, grateful she’d gotten it black.
“So, you’re into the dream scene, huh?” he began, his expression curious.
“Yes, well.” Sharon slipped into her own seat and put the Madelines on the table. She slid one toward him, then opened her coffee to mix two sugars in. “I didn’t Dream for a long time. Just the normal things--endless halls with locked doors, being naked in front of my high school math class, having forgotten paperwork I needed when I got to work? That sort of thing.” She explained, stirring. “But I started Dreaming, and I finally understood what everyone was talking about.”
Clint wasn’t the kind of man to turn down food. Ever. And he knew how women worked--that sometimes they would only eat if someone else was eating too--so he didn’t hesitate before tasting the pastry, chewing while she spoke, and watched her lips.
“So...capital-d-dreaming. That’s what everyone on Valarnet is talking about when they talk about dreams,” he hazarded. “They say they feel like memories.” He shrugged a shoulder and scrubbed his chin, lightly. “Not sure. More sort of...I don’t know. They taught us that when we die...we’ll see our life passing before our eyes. It feels like that, a little. At least mine.”
"Capital D Dreaming," Sharon agreed with a nod. "That kind. I've had quite a few of those by now, and... they really do feel like memories to me." She listened when he spoke, and started in on her own cookie, picking bits off with her long, slender fingers and eating it slowly.
"I... I dunno, I've never died. Or been close. But that sounds like it. Like reliving something that you hadn't realized you'd forgotten? Almost?" It came out as a question, really. Sharon hadn’t meant it to be one, but there it was.
Clint sipped at his coffee and studied her while she spoke. When she finished, the corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. “It’s...vivid,” he agreed. “But I’m not sure I buy this whole...memories thing. I see people talking about it--talking about people who share their memories. Maybe I’ll make a post...see if anyone has dreamed about me.”
“There are other people who say they dream about me,” Sharon offered. “... I didn’t really believe it until I started dreaming about them, too. And even then it took a while, since my dreams were so much like my own past. Just little differences that made me suspect. I don’t know about alternate universes or whatever. But it’s weird that we’re all having weird dreams. Must be something in the water.”
Clint wasn’t sure that there were explanations for this kind of thing, but he wouldn’t rule ‘mass hallucination’ out. His expression turned wry and he smiled. “Happier things, maybe? New job?”
"Happier things," Sharon repeated after him, breaking into a warm smile. "Yes. I love it. Working with my cousin is great, and my former partner works there, too."
He finished his pastry and sipped his coffee, sitting back to admire her as she spoke. It was clear that she enjoyed it, which earned a smile in return. “Good to hear. So...new job, colleagues you care about...seems like life’s looking up, strange dreams of another life notwithstanding.”
Sharon chuckled. “Right. Strange dreams not withstanding,” she repeated after him, making sure her face was turned toward his so he could see her lips. It was a really nice afternoon spent with a really nice guy. Sharon couldn’t have asked for better company.