I lose the joys of life. (For speaks_latin)

[thehawkinhisnest]

Warning: Will contain violence.

Clint fiddles with his cufflink, looking away from the window overlooking the street below. This is the last step of a mission he's been working for the last two weeks, and while he's as anxious as ever for it to be over, there's no sense of victory on the horizon. He's used to that with these missions, of knowing that once he's finished, he'll feel a sense of accomplishment, of having something to be proud of. But no matter how hard he tries, he just wants this one to be over.

He's supposed to kill a child.

Not really, of course. The girl (The Black Widow. Natalie. Natalia.) is only a few years younger than him - their intel says she is actually eighteen, though he's wondered about that in the time he's been watching her this week, while he decided the best way to play this, while his contacts set up this meeting. Natalia was his date to a dinner for some rich assholes this evening, and the longer the night goes on, the more certain he becomes that he can't go through with this. She's a killer, has taken out more targets than S.H.I.E.L.D. can actually keep up with - but he sees more when people don't know he's watching. He's seen the black cars and men that dog her heels, and the looks she gives them when she thinks no one's watching aren't to reassure herself that they're there. He's seen her steel herself before she talks to them, before she came up to meet up, tonight, and they all paint a picture different than the one in her file.

He has weapons hidden nearby, should be hiding one of them on himself now while Natalia freshens up in the bathroom - he doesn't want to think about why she thinks she needs to freshen up, she's a child and not even one allowed to make her own decisions - but he can't. He can't do it.

But he has to, and he finally takes his hand away from his sleeve, turning to find the closest handgun, to tuck it away as the sound of water stops in the bathroom and the door opens, to school his own expression and posture back into the relaxed, confident swagger this cover requires, to let himself leer a little when he turns to face her.

Another hour, and this will be done.

Comments

[thehawkinhisnest]

He shrugs, heading back for the balcony to look it over, already starting to shrug out of his coat and unbutton his sleeves. "I've managed worse. Though I was in better shoes at the time."

He tosses his coat behind a chair and then heads back for the balcony. "If you can get up with a boost, I can climb up behind you."

[speaks_latin]

"Could always lose the shoes," she suggests, half-serious. On one hand, he might get better traction for climbing, barefoot, for all that dress shoes are worthless for this sort of thing. On the other, though, not having shoes can and will likely pose a problem, once they get out of here. He could always come back for them or 'borrow' another pair on the way out, but they may not have that kind of time before James catches on.

Whether or not he actually decides to run with that suggestion, however, she heads for the balcony, too. She looks between it, him and back again, thoughtfully, for several seconds before finally refocusing on him. "I can do it with a boost."

She thinks. She's not actually sure, but confidence never hurts anything, and backing down now certainly isn't going to help.

[thehawkinhisnest]

"I can manage with these," he counters, because yeah, he's more likely to run into more issues later without them, and he can do this in just about anything.

He doesn't comment beyond that, though, just moving over to join her, to stoop a little, interlacing his fingers to give her a platform to step onto.

[speaks_latin]

Shrugging, she lets her not-quite-argument go, and focuses instead on the moment, taking a handful of steps backwards. She's back a second later, stepping up onto Clint's locked hands in an almost run, vaulting off of them. She twists in mid-air, flawless, like a ballerina should be, and her hands catch the balcony above them. She pulls herself up and over the railing with seemingly no more effort, though she's already thinking about how sore she's going to be, after this. If there is an after this.

"Need a hand?" she calls back, pushing that thought away as she leans over the railing of the balcony.

[thehawkinhisnest]

Clint is already aware he's going to hate himself in the morning, considering he's already feeling what they've been into so far.

He backs off a few steps, eyeing his options - and then takes a few quick steps forward, up onto a chair, onto the railing, and then angles himself to catch the railing of the next balcony over from hers. "Got it," he grunts, pulling himself up a little so he can get momentum to jump back, this time catching the railing of the one she's on before swinging over it.

Suddenly, he's grateful for being a carny in ways he never has been before.

[speaks_latin]

"Acrobat?" she guesses, only half-joking, when he's on the balcony with her. It seems ridiculous that a circus performer might end up an agent of SHIELD, but his climbing skills are a little above and beyond your standard suit. Maybe he's just had a lot of training, but -- well, she's not sure.

[thehawkinhisnest]

"Ran off and joined the circus," he agrees and explains simultaneously. "Keep going here or pick a different room?"

He's good either way, though he is a little worried about the idea of trying to get into another room and walking right into James when they go back into the hotel proper.

[speaks_latin]

She arches her eyebrows at that answer, trying to decide whether or not he's serious, because again, it's ridiculous even if it explains a lot. She doesn't ask, however, not when he continues, letting it go in favor of shooting a thoughtful look at the door.

"We might want to stick to the balconies for at least another couple of floors," she answers, finally, having similar thoughts.

[thehawkinhisnest]

Eventually he'll tell her more about his past, but now is really not the time in multiple ways.

Clint nods, accepting that. "C'mon, then," he tells her again, again preparing to give her a boost up to the next floor. He wants to get as far as he can while they're fresh, for the inevitable time that they need a break from this exertion.

[speaks_latin]

Humming, Natasha repeats the process of climbing up to the next floor, with Clint's help. She waits for him to join her, once she's settled, then gestures for him to give her another boost. And another. And another. They've managed four of five floors by the time she stops him, higher now than they were than they started, and leans into the balcony, trying to catch her breath. If she wasn't sure whether or not she'd be feeling this tomorrow, before, she definitely is, now. Between the fight, heading down and then heading back up, she's exhausted.

"We should be good here," she tells him, that in mind. Maybe they aren't, but she's not sure either of them will make it much further if they stick solely to the balconies -- particularly when she notices he's bleeding, now. "Your side."

[thehawkinhisnest]

Clint starts feeling it sooner, feeling the pull in his side, steadfastly ignoring the fact that he thinks he can feel the wound tearing more at the exertion. It's not like he really has any other choice, and he just keeps going.

He's grateful when she finally stops, though, letting himself lean back against the railing as he gulps in a breath - and one hand is already headed for his side when she points it out. "Oh, yeah," he says as casually as he can, like he's not feeling it, and aborts the motion of pressing a hand to it to wave that off instead. "I got winged somewhere in there. It's fine."

It's probably not fine, but they have bigger concerns, and he's fought on with more life threatening injuries before.

[speaks_latin]

"You always that bad a liar?"

Never mind the fact that he fooled her, back when they were still both playing their parts, up until the point where the conversation started took a turn towards double meanings. She knows he's trying to play it off. Just as she knows, despite calling him out on it, he's going to have to, at least until they can get out of the hotel. They might be able to find something to wrap his side with, but unless it magically appears before them, they may not have time to stop and look.

[thehawkinhisnest]

He just makes a rude noise back at her, because he knows he's not. "I'll live, is the important thing," he tells her, and that is honest. He's not going to die or even collapse before he fulfills his promise and gets her out.

He'll worry about himself after that.

"Wanna risk trying the stairs?" He's leaving that decision up to her, based on what she knows of James and his skills. The other people should be out of the hotel by now, and he glances over his shoulder, catching the reflections of emergency lights. "We might have a different kind of company soon."

[speaks_latin]

She hums, still not thrilled regardless of how honest he may or may not be being, now, but backs down all the same. Or at least she seems to. It's still on her mind, however, and very much influences her decision as to whether or not they should try the stairs. Never mind the fact that her answer would probably have been the same, regardless.

"I think we're safe." A beat. "Let's go."

Much as they do need moving and contrary to her insistence of that, she'll allow him another minute if he wants or needs it, however.

[thehawkinhisnest]

Clint means it - he knows it's bleeding and needs taken care of, but he also knows it's a minor wound compared to some of the things he's dealt with in the past. If it starts getting worse, he'll say something. For now, he just nods. "Let's go," he echoes, already starting to follow her toward the door to the room.

[speaks_latin]

Pulling the door open a scant handful of inches, Natasha peers out into the hallway. It seems empty, despite the raging fire alarm and the fact that they know James is around somewhere, but rather than repeat that assessment for fear of jinxing them, she pulls the door open a little more, enough to slip halfway out, first. When no bullets or knives come to drive her back into the room, she exhales slowly and steps out in earnest. When she still doesn't spot anyone, she gestures for Clint to follow before heading down the hallway for the stairs.

[thehawkinhisnest]

Clint waits for her to clear the hall before he follows her out, jogging along behind her as they head for the stairwell. Somewhere behind them, he thinks he hears a door open, but he's not sure he's not just being paranoid at this point, adrenaline still flowing.

[speaks_latin]

Considering Natasha doesn't seem to react to the phantom door opening, it likely is just paranoia. Thankfully. She does, however, turn after a moment, if only to ask, "How high were we planning on going?"

She's pretty sure they never decided on that, just that up was the way to go.

[thehawkinhisnest]

It's also entirely possible his already shitty hearing is playing tricks on him. He hears that well enough, though. "Uh. I hadn't thought that far ahead yet," he admits. "We need to get out of this building."

[speaks_latin]

"Agreed." A beat. "Though, I still don't think we should let emergency services be the ones to bring us out." Mostly because she expects James might be waiting, to see if the fire team clearing the building finds them. Again, maybe she's overthinking it, but it's what she'd do, and she really doesn't want some poor civilian, thinking they're doing a good deed, delivering them straight into James's hands.

[thehawkinhisnest]

Clint nods agreement. "If we don't run into your friend, we might run into mine." And while he's less worried about S.H.I.E.L.D. trying to hurt either of them, while it might not be the worst thing that could happen, he'd rather they got away on their own so he can call Coulson and make his case on his own terms with some distance between them.

It's not that he doesn't trust his employers, but he's pretty sure it's only smart to not trust everyone. There's always the potential for a mole or someone with a vendetta against her of their own.

[speaks_latin]

"So, find somewhere to hide out, until they're gone, and then head for the nearest exit?" It'll probably be smart to wait a few minutes, even after they leave, for the crowd to break up and James or Clint's people to lose interest, but. That's still the gist of the plan. Maybe they can find something for Clint's side, while they're looking for a place to hunker down, too.

[thehawkinhisnest]

"Works for me," he agrees. "Might be a good time to find that utility closet or crawl space we were discussing earlier."

[speaks_latin]

"Might want to start checking the bathrooms, then." That seems the most likely place to find a crawl space, this high up. "One of the rooms in the middle." With only one exterior wall, any crawl space they find, this high up, likely to be in an interior one, and somewhere near the center, to hide where the plumbing branches off to all the other rooms.

[thehawkinhisnest]

They might also have some luck near the elevator. While the actual control room is likely at ground level, nicer hotels tend to leave space around the elevator so no one has to listen to it all night.

"Wanna head up a couple more and then find something?" he proposes, just to give themselves a little more distance.