Some days, a man just can't catch a break. [Open, tagging Clint and Verity]

[smartass_captain]

New York circa 2013 isn't such a bad place, Jim has decided. There's so much to take in and watch that he's certain he could be kept busy for months on end just trying to learn everything he could. Clint had explained currency to him today--Jim knew what it was, just not how it all divvied up. He'd done a bit of research on a clunky old machine Clint had told him the name of and Jim had subsequently forgotten. Some kind of ancient PADD device on an obsolete web browser.

Some girl had shown up hassling Clint about something or another a while ago, and the archer had assured Jim he wouldn't be gone long and left. She was too young for Jim to pay much attention to, and Clint didn't need Jim tagging along for every babysitting job he ended up getting drug off to. Or it was a neighbor asking him about a leak in their ceiling, in which case Jim was just a jerk.

Wooden stairs creaked in protest when Jim finally left the apartment building, being careful to lock up with the spare key he'd gotten from Clint that was stowed safely in the pocket of his purple sweatshirt he was borrowing. Eggs again for the third day in a row didn't seem appealing, and Clint had given him a bit of money, so Jim is heading down to the corner to grab a bite of whatever awesome smelling food was being sold by the vendor he'd been watching from the window for three days now.

"Bro, look! At the corner by the falafel stand bro!"

There, at the corner, was a scruffy short haired blond in a purple sweatshirt and sweatpants, fumbling in his pocket for the correct change to pay for his order. Truly, an easier target would never happen. He didn't even look like he'd had his morning coffee yet. (Jim hadn't). The next thing Jim knows, his delicious smelling food is strewn on the street as a couple thugs in tracksuits drag Jim off into an alley trying to beat the shit out of him.

"What the hell?!" That was his breakfast, assholes!

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[aw_hawkguy]

Clint had been, as it happened, trying to fix a neighbor's satellite dish (it had, at some point, picked up an extra arrow, somehow), when he saw Jim being dragged into the alley below him by a couple of the goons. He didn't have his bow with him, but he was only a few floors up--and if you got the angle just right, you could throw an arrow pretty damn hard.

"Hey!" As he's demonstrating--the arrow lodges in a forearm pulled back to punch. Had it been fired from a bow, the goon in question would've had an arm kebab. As it is, he's just got a minor flesh wound, and Clint Barton jumping off a fire escape three floors up to land atop a dumpster. "Get the hell away from my building!"

The tracksuits gape for a moment, the un-arrowed one, groaning, "aw, bro, what? There's two of him?!"

[smartass_captain]

"Two of who?!" Now, Jim doesn't have the faintest idea of what's going on. But he does know he just got the okay to take those bandages off and this is already not looking like it's going to end well.

And then an arrow drops from the sky like a tiny purple and black rocket. Followed by the real Clint Barton, would he please stand up? Please stand up because seriously Jim isn't immune to bullets. He is, however, quick enough to rip the arrow out of the wounded goon's arm before trying to lodge it in his ugly face.

What? He doesn't have his phaser on him, it kept getting him weird looks on the subway the other day

[aw_hawkguy]

The thug Jim jumps gives a yelp that might be an exclamation of "bro!" at a pitch rising fast on a rocket of pain. Clint leaps off the dumpster at the other, lunging in a tackle that knocks the balding Russian off his feet.

The one fighting Jim takes a swing at him, but the dynamic of the fight has changed. This isn't him and his buddy in a position of strength, ambushing an injured man and beating him at their leisure. This is a hard-scrabble fight, and he's gotten more used to bullying frightened tenement-dwellers lately.

"Jim, these're the guys! The tracksuit guys!"

[smartass_captain]

Man fuck these guys. Fuck these guys in the face with the arrow Clint had thrown from the roof because they wrecked his breakfast thing and clocked him silly in a dirty alley and he just started recovering from his goddamn injuries.

"Should've guessed these guys had weapons on 'em." A desperate knee to Jim's stomach has him doubling over while injured tracksuit bro knocks the arrow from Jim's hands and gets some distance from the Totally Not Clint Barton guy he'd just tried to knock out moments ago. This kid was crazy, bro!

"Don't make no sense, bro! You're gettin' into the cloning business now?!" They are freaked out at the turn of the tides and they're gonna be a lot more freaked out when Jim can goddamn breathe again.

[aw_hawkguy]

A strong right cross puts the pinned tracksuit out for a minute, and Clint's on his feet again. "Pretty sure I told you already, stay the hell away from my building." Snatching up a trash can lid, he hurls it at the goon's legs, Captain America-style.

[smartass_captain]

Man now his bruised ribs hurt like a mother too. Jim has had it up to here with these guys. His head snaps up with a sick determination and he all but sprints after the guy, leaping to tackle him to the ground even as the tracksuit is already stumbling from the, quite frankly, professional Captain America toss Clint pulled off with that lid.

Both of them go down on the pavement at the same time. Jim slams the guy's head against the pavement with a reverberating smack. Then kicks him again for good measure when he scrambles to get off the guy and back on his feet proper again.

"Think...think I might hate these guys, man."

[brave_heart_verity]

So. There's a list of reasons why she doesn't usually come to Bed-Stuy. This is moving right to the top of that list. On the other hand, she's real glad now that she had to stop and check her map because otherwise she might have been in the way of that--

Wait is that Jim?

Clint is in so much trouble.

[aw_hawkguy]

It's not Thursday if Clint's not in trouble. He's like the Must-See TV of being wrong about stuff. And he's got zip-ties in his pocket, which he'll use to secure the bro he downed. "Yeah, they make an impression pretty fast. Here, zip your guy up, we'll call the cops." He tosses Jim the bundle of zip ties, and it's only then that he sees Verity at the end of the alley.

"Aw, futz."

[smartass_captain]

Dear lord, if Clint gets into this much trouble on his own, think of how much more trouble he's going to get into with Jim Kirk hanging around.

He doesn't notice Verity right away as he is busy telling himself it's not okay to use the zip ties to choke these guys out for trying to beat him silly. All things considered though, it could have turned out much worse. Jim's got a couple fresh bruises, and one of the blisters from his burn popped and stings real bad, but aside from that he's relatively unscathed. You know. For him.

Anyway, Jim'll tie up the other bro before scooping up the trash can lid Clint used on the guy and trying to figure out how the heck he did that. It was neat.

[brave_heart_verity]

"So... I was going to bring you guys some pastries..."

What the hell is Jim doing? It's very distracting. It's not the first time she's seen someone pretending to be Cap but usually they outgrow it by his age. This is probably also Clint's fault.

"What the hell happened?"

[aw_hawkguy]

Okay, this looks bad. Act casual. "Uh, hey, Verity, how's it beating?" Clint, you goon. "Going! I meant going. These, uh, these guys started some trouble. Tracksuit mafia. Bad news."

Change the subject, you doof. "Have you met Jim?"

Maybe next time change the subject without sounding like Barney Stinson.

[smartass_captain]

Whoa! Its...shit he's supposed to know her name. The first aid lady who was really nice and stuff from the Nexus. The not-telepath who knows when you're bullshitting her. Did Jim dream that? He doesn't think he did, but he was really touch and go for a while there. She had a nice name. Actually gave it to him too. Veris? Veronica?

Verity! Thank you Clint. You are the best. Jim is quick to drop the trash can lid (on the goon's head no less) and wander on over to the end of the alley where Verity is.

"I didn't know you lived in the same 'verse as Clint here. How's things Verity?" Give her your best baby blues, Jim. Sure to diffuse this situation. Or get Jim smacked. It's fifty fifty.

[brave_heart_verity]

Sorry Jim, but that look really does nothing for or to her. She's never been a sucker for a pair of pretty eyes.

(Okay, once, just the once, and let's not discuss it.)

She's looking them both over while she talks, eyes narrowed a little. "Yeah, I live in Manhattan." And two years in the future but what's a little time between friends?

"Oh, I'm okay. You're looking really well considering you were half dead last time I saw you." She's only pretending to be calm while she tries to process all of this. "Did Clint put you up to this? It's okay, you can tell me. He's not actually allowed to draft people into the Avengers anymore. Clint, shouldn't you be calling the cops or something?"

[aw_hawkguy]

"Oh, you've met." Clint catches up to them, dragging the tracksuit by his tethered ankles and letting him drop next to his bro.

By which time, he's ready to be affronted by Verity's insinuations. "I didn't draft--he's crashing on my couch 'til he gets his place back! I'm helping a friend!" Beat. "And my phone's in my apartment. Could I borrow yours?"

[smartass_captain]

Considering that look usually gets him any man, woman, or other of the species in particular, that is an impressive resist on Verity's part. Still, he's glad to see another familiar face. One that is apparently friends with Clint, even!

"I think they thought I was him." Jim jerks a thumb toward Clint. He remembers something and gets this disappointed look on his face for a moment. "They wrecked my breakfast, whatever it was." And aggravated some of his injuries, but that is less important.

This situation is probably less friendly than Jim perceives it to be, but he's working up the wattage on his charming smile. Its the principle of the thing.

[brave_heart_verity]

She's had a lot of practice not being interested. See? She's not impressed when the big famous hero is asking for her help either. But she will hand him her phone with a roll of her eyes and there is no smiling going on stop that.

"You two do look kinda alike. Especially when you're wearing his clothes. Here." He can hold the pastry boxes now. "This is for you. Both of you. I'm sure he won't mind if you eat some for breakfast."

Now that her hands are free she folds her arms. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

[aw_hawkguy]

Clint would love to make a rejoinder, probably, or at least defend himself, but right now he's quietly calling the local precinct to explain the situation, and to assure them that he isn't threatening random passers-by this time, he promises. There will, he's told, be a car sent sometime. He concludes the call with a somewhat less-than-enthusiastic, "thanks."

After which, he needs to catch up. "Sorry, what? What's got you in the neighborhood, Verity?"

[smartass_captain]

"She's saying everyone from Iowa looks the same." Jim can't effectively point at Verity while holding two boxes of potentially delicious foodstuffs, but he tries. And then grins. Because JIm still thinks this is pretty fucking great. "She thinks we look alike too. Too much corn in the system, or somethin' I guess."

Standing side by side like they are, it's a lot easier to tell them apart. Clint's got a lot more muscle than Jim does and Jim has those stupidly bright blue eyes. But with an oversized purple sweatshirt on, sweatpants, bedhead, and just enough stubble for it to be edging on scruffy, they do kind of look like they could be related or something. And they're both farm kids form Iowa who grew up in horribly dysfunctional families! So..normal for Iowa.

[brave_heart_verity]

"What's Iowa got to do with anything?" She looks between them curiously before remembering, "Wait, no. I just came to bring you guys food. Katsuya made pastries and thought you'd like some."

Her nerves are still too raw from confession time with Katsuya to deal with Jim's eyes and smile at the same time, so she's going to look down at the tracksuit idiots. "This is what you get for villains around here? Geez, that's sad. In Manhattan, they wear properly idiotic costumes like real criminals."

Sarcasm is an excellent defense mechanism.

[aw_hawkguy]

"Aw, c'mon," Clint protests, "Manhattan's got mobsters, I've seen 'em. Kingpin, even." But hey, pastries. "Thanks. You wanna come upstairs? I could get some coffee going, pretty quick."

She asked a question, Barton. "Oh, yeah, Iowa. We're both from Iowa, turns out. But seriously, coffee? I got the good stuff." He's not lyin'.

[smartass_captain]

"Who?" Not for the first time today, Jim suddenly feels like he's walked in on the middle of a conversation he has no business being in. Or maybe he's just bad with names.

The promise of pastries and coffee is too much to resist, so Jim sidles up next to Verity and nudges her slightly with his hip. Clint really does have the best coffee and upstairs would be closer to resting than he is now. Plus he can change out the bandage on his arm because seriously, it kinda hurts.

"We're fine, Verity. Come up with us and have some coffee. As a thank you for bringing us food, if nothing else." He thinks Verity's just shy. But he does want to talk to her now that he isn't half conscious and bleeding all over himself.

[brave_heart_verity]

"Well, yeah, mobsters." Life in this city has really skewed her perception of what's dangerous. "The Kingpin's a mob boss or something. Big bald guy in a suit."

And then wait was that... oh. Yes it was. Boy, she turns interesting colors when she blushes. She'll just be taking a little step away from Jim now.

"Coffee would be nice." But if Jim keeps that up one or both of them is going to end up wearing it.

[aw_hawkguy]

Clint tries to catch Jim's eye and give him a little negative head-shake, to urge him not to do stuff like that. Maybe he's counting on corn-based telepathy to get the message across. "I'll, uh, zip these guys to the sign there, and be right up."

And given the way Jim's being around Verity, he thinks, he'd better hurry.

[smartass_captain]

Lady and gentleman, James Tiberius Kirk. Now that he wasn't a) blown up, b)knocked silly, and c) not on duty there was very little to stop Jim from at least kind of flirting with everyone under the sun. Not Clint because Jim thinks it's just a little bit weird how they sort of look alike and he's not that narcissistic. But definitely Verity.

His eyebrow quirks up at her retreat and, okay huh. Must be shyer than he thought, or taken. That happens sometimes too. Bummer. Whatever, he can still be friendly! Jim'll lead Verity back up the stairs to Clint's place--last door on the left past the sideways '8' infinity door that goes back to the Nexus.


Once inside, Jim has the common sense to set aside the boxes of treats and move a pile of clothes off of the couch so there's room for everyone to sit once Clint gets back. Then he'll meander on into the kitchen and try to work this antique coffee machine.

"How d'you like your coffee Verity?" Hiss, whistle. Okay, maybe he shouldn't press random buttons like that.

[brave_heart_verity]

She doesn't need a chaperone Clint, geez. She just needs her personal space respected right now. His announcement is met with a little shrug; he's the professional good guy, she's not going to argue with what he decides to do with the jerks.

There's something charming about being so blithely indiscriminate like that. Making a game of making people feel good is kind of sweet. She's just having a day, so her arms are folded and she's stimming while they walk upstairs.

The apartment is. Well. Exactly what she expected. She went to college and she's seen worse, but still. Not impressed. Watching Jim trying to use the coffee machine is amusing though.

"Not on fire. Want me to do that?"