Clint Barton || Hawkeye (
broken_arrow) wrote2012-11-06 07:42 pm
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Be not simply good; be good for something
For three days they just talked, and more often than not they sit in silence, but after she had given him some names of people who had possible connection to the Red Room Clint had managed to get Fury to give him access to one of the smaller, private training rooms. It had all the essentials: training mats, punching bag and, of course, targets.
They had been at it for going on twenty minutes, their first sparring match since that first meeting in the tunnels. She was good, he had to give her that, but it was clear she wasn’t used to a challenge, at least not any more; he doubted she had came up against many recently who could even make her work for a victory.
Clint could have ended it sooner but he let it go on, watching all her moves closely, learning her tells. She had a definite routine, an order of things, and he kept on the defensive, letting her keep the upper hand, until she became too repetitive. He hadn’t acted much on the offensive the entire time so when he finally switched it was fast and it was effective. He used her surprise, her confidence that she was the best, and in the blink of an eye he had her on her back, pinned to the mat.
“Not bad,” he complimented her. Sort of.
They had been at it for going on twenty minutes, their first sparring match since that first meeting in the tunnels. She was good, he had to give her that, but it was clear she wasn’t used to a challenge, at least not any more; he doubted she had came up against many recently who could even make her work for a victory.
Clint could have ended it sooner but he let it go on, watching all her moves closely, learning her tells. She had a definite routine, an order of things, and he kept on the defensive, letting her keep the upper hand, until she became too repetitive. He hadn’t acted much on the offensive the entire time so when he finally switched it was fast and it was effective. He used her surprise, her confidence that she was the best, and in the blink of an eye he had her on her back, pinned to the mat.
“Not bad,” he complimented her. Sort of.
no subject
Clint remained patient, letting her consider his words without further pressure, and when she finally met his eyes and nodded he smiled back at her. He didn’t understand the Russian but it sounded good, though he was grateful for the translation nonetheless. “Okay,” he said. “Xopowo,” he repeated, very poorly mimicking her Russian in his American accent. “Now whaddya say, you up for round two?”
no subject
At the same time she pushed off the vinyl covered mats and landed on her feet. She gave him a quick nod. If anything, the workout relieved some pent up tension.
This time, she had a few tricks up her sleeve to make sure what happened before, didn't happen again.