It was nice, to hang out with Clint. Hanging out like normal people who didn’t risk risk their lives and who didn’t both go by Hawkeye. For once they were just Clint Barton and Kate Bishop. They were … somewhat normal people who could go out and drink, and have fun.
Being normal was nice. Having days off and sleeping in late. It was sort of like nothing had changed, nothing had happened to her.
Kate felt a grin spread over her face as she slung an arm over his shoulders for a moment, leaning onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Aww, you know you love it.” Dropping back onto the balls of her feet she dragged him along. When she thought about it, she dragged him through most of her life behind her.. Sometimes she wondered why he never complained.
Clint’s grin was lopsided and happy as her lips brushed his cheek and he chuckled a little. “Nah, you’re kinda heavy for a skinny rich girl,” he teased, shoving lightly at her shoulder. This was easy; it was something he could manage almost without thought.
He didn’t protest when she grabbed his arm to drag him with her, knowing that she wouldn’t take no for an answer in that respect. “So what’s this lovely bar you’re taking us to? ‘Cause I don’t wanna be the creepy older dude there, if you know what I mean,” he said as they wandered down the streets.
He didn’t frequent bars or clubs, distant as he tried to keep himself from alcohol, so he didn’t know the best places to go, and he certainly didn’t know the age ranges those places catered to. Sometimes he was struck by how much younger than himself Kate was and this was one of those times. There was an entire decade there that he just didn’t want to acknowledge.