[ Clint is sprawled out on the living room floor, craning his neck up as he plays a game on the console he's not had much use out of lately, but as soon as the text tune for Natasha rings out, he pauses it and rolls over to reach his phone.
He glances from the TV to the window and back, the room slowly getting warm as opposed to the freezing cold outside, and he sighs. He grabs his jacket after distracting Fury with a chew and takes a short-cut up to the roof, stepping up behind her, but not within hitting distance - he's never doing that again. ]
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He glances from the TV to the window and back, the room slowly getting warm as opposed to the freezing cold outside, and he sighs. He grabs his jacket after distracting Fury with a chew and takes a short-cut up to the roof, stepping up behind her, but not within hitting distance - he's never doing that again. ]
What're we looking at?