( For Buffy; open to anyone wanting to swing through for a tag or two and give them a hard time )
His name had finally been drawn for a specialized mission, which Clint was actually kind of grateful for. Weapons Testing had been quieter since Peggy was arrested, not that there weren't other people also working there, but Peggy was... well... Peggy. Force of nature, that woman, really damn impressive. It was easy to see how she'd maintained a grip over S.H.I.E.L.D. until she'd retired even though she was from a time when she was barely accorded basic respect. Not to mention she was almost as good at provoking bad ideas as Natasha and didn't kill him if he stole her coffee. So with her gone and charged with treason, having a day out of that section was actually kind of a relief, not that he'd really show it.
That was, until he'd gotten to the commissary and gotten to read the whole briefing.
Someone had taken some of the tables in the commissary and arranged them into what was more or less an assembly line, with jumpsuits (mostly red, of course, but a gradually decreasing smattering of other colors as well) piled on one end and an array of cleaning agents, brushes, spare needles, thread, tubs of water, and two industrial-grade sewing machines assembled and ready to go the moment they were turned on. All stuff he was familiar with individually, most of it he had some experience using even if just in a basic capacity, but all together made him just... stop and stare. What.
"...You know, somehow I'd've thought they already had a dry cleaning service here." Certainly he'd done some damage to one of his jumpsuits in the running of the halls that had disappeared, though maybe it had just been thrown in the trash.
( Afternoon, Open )
Once all of that was done, and Clint was done nursing (and in one case bandaging) the stab wounds he'd gotten from the needles, he decided to head over to the gym to get in a run. The dancing at the charity ball the night before hadn't caused him to pull anything, even the overly-energetic swing routine he and Nat had shown off, but that was because he'd been careful to stretch before doing anything else. He knew his body very well and knew he had to do some kind of similar activity the next day in order to keep his muscles pliant, especially after sitting and sewing all day, and it seemed like a good time. Maybe he'd go to whatever entertainment was planned for the night later, but for now he required physical activity.
Closed-ish and then open
His name had finally been drawn for a specialized mission, which Clint was actually kind of grateful for. Weapons Testing had been quieter since Peggy was arrested, not that there weren't other people also working there, but Peggy was... well... Peggy. Force of nature, that woman, really damn impressive. It was easy to see how she'd maintained a grip over S.H.I.E.L.D. until she'd retired even though she was from a time when she was barely accorded basic respect. Not to mention she was almost as good at provoking bad ideas as Natasha and didn't kill him if he stole her coffee. So with her gone and charged with treason, having a day out of that section was actually kind of a relief, not that he'd really show it.
That was, until he'd gotten to the commissary and gotten to read the whole briefing.
Someone had taken some of the tables in the commissary and arranged them into what was more or less an assembly line, with jumpsuits (mostly red, of course, but a gradually decreasing smattering of other colors as well) piled on one end and an array of cleaning agents, brushes, spare needles, thread, tubs of water, and two industrial-grade sewing machines assembled and ready to go the moment they were turned on. All stuff he was familiar with individually, most of it he had some experience using even if just in a basic capacity, but all together made him just... stop and stare. What.
"...You know, somehow I'd've thought they already had a dry cleaning service here." Certainly he'd done some damage to one of his jumpsuits in the running of the halls that had disappeared, though maybe it had just been thrown in the trash.
( Afternoon, Open )
Once all of that was done, and Clint was done nursing (and in one case bandaging) the stab wounds he'd gotten from the needles, he decided to head over to the gym to get in a run. The dancing at the charity ball the night before hadn't caused him to pull anything, even the overly-energetic swing routine he and Nat had shown off, but that was because he'd been careful to stretch before doing anything else. He knew his body very well and knew he had to do some kind of similar activity the next day in order to keep his muscles pliant, especially after sitting and sewing all day, and it seemed like a good time. Maybe he'd go to whatever entertainment was planned for the night later, but for now he required physical activity.