Hawkeyes Only

July 31 2014: Clint Barton finds Jericho Trent to get some answers from the man himself.

Central Park

Full of walkers, runners, joggers, workers, sight seers and at least one Hawkeye on a mission.



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Mood Music:
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There is a kind of magic in music. It's the only magic, really, that Jericho is ever likely to wield. Even K'nert, the demon cat -who is thankfully hiding invisibly in the shadows in an uncharacteristic fit of sense - likes to listen to Jeri play. Today, the hacker has brought his keyboard out to a little gazebo in Central Park and is playing and singing. He does this to relax, unwind and mostly for his own enjoyment but it's not surprise that given the hour of the day he's gathered a small audience watching at some distance.

You wanna run away, run away and you say that it can't be so.
You wanna look away, look away but you stay 'cause it's all so close.
When you stand up and hold out your hand
In the face of what I don't understand. My reason to be brave.

Say what you will about him, he can play. And he's got a nice voice.


There are some times when being up in a tree really is the best place to be. Healing from injury, Hawkeye has managed, so far, to go from tree to tree with little ruffling of feathers, so to speak, though he has managed to piss off a couple of squirrels. It's one of the many ways the SHIELD agent keeps in form, other than running along rooftops at night, and working out in a gym. And target practice at the Brooklyn Archery shop.

While nowhere as graceful as a gymnast right now, thanks to the shoulder, Barton does manage a passable 'dismount' from a tree-limb, landing on his feet some distance away so as not to be too obnoxious. Once down, he brushes himself off and begins to head towards the music. He'd caught a glimpse of the guy when he came in, and now, while not the optimal time to contact him, is at least -some- time. Particularly after hearing how his -friend- in SHIELD has been running after him like some sort of lover. It's not doing her career any good in that there is some serious alienation of fellow agents going on. And when that happens? The questions beginning? It never ends well.


The Josh Groban cover ends and Jericho starts playing something a bit slower and more relaxing. More jazzy. The little knot of people watching from a distance begins to disperse. Jeri notices of course and he's glad they enjoy the music, but he doesn't do this as performance so much as therapy. In any case he's not too tense right now and while he's looking about, mostly so his facial recognition software can spot potential hostiles, he's not thinking right now is a great time for a hit. And anyway, Barton isn't on the list of people he thinks are likely to kill him, so though he sweeps his eyes over the man, he doesn't react to his approach. Well, not until and unless Barton get's closer and he actually notices him.


Thing is, Barton really can actually fade into the crowd. Assuming, of course, the crowd in general walks with a certain purpose at any given time, is in shape, and is always watching. But there's nothing particularly remarkable in the 'ordinary' human; no prostetics, no bionics, no wonky eyes, no tail, nothing. And he continues the cross until he's close enough to not have to shout above the random bits of conversation as some of those begin to move on.

"Trent. You and me. We have to talk." No 'oh hey, how are you buddy?' or 'Hi, good to see you, have any time?' Dropping his hands into his pockets to give him a slightly more casual air, the sunglasses makes it a touch on the difficult side to see those eyes of his, and where they're looking.


Jericho looks up, a bit surprised to hear Barton's voice, which shows on his face. Oooooh. He's good. Jeri himself has rather the same talent. The practiced ability to be uninteresting. Barton gets a mild frown, but it's one of thought and not an 'I don't like you' frown. After, it's Barton, not Hill or Manning.

"Do we now?" The playing goes on uninterrupted. "And what do we have to talk about, may I ask?" The tone is wary. He's not sure where this is going and Jericho has an almost visceral dislike of surprises.

Well, after all, they've mostly been bad this past sixteen months.



The way it's said can be interpreted in any way by those that linger. Could be the month for all anyone knows. Barton remains standing there, waiting for a response from the man that he -knows- he's going to get. Or at least bets on. (If he were a betting man, that is.)

"Some questions came up, and your name is in ever single last one of them."

Oy. May. As in, Melinda May, he's sure, the only SHIELD agent he trusts worth anything. And the fact that she's not here to ask them herself… Hrm.

"I see. Always nice to know you folks are thinking about me." Jericho's tone is dry. It's not nice to know that. Not nice at all.

"And those questions were… what now?"


Clint's face retains its impassive expression, and he quirks his head, echoing it with, "Let's take a walk." He pauses before he adds, "I can wait. I have all night." And he will, if need be.

"And I'm not thinking about you. I'm thinking about May." And Tash. And the Avengers Initiative. And SHIELD. And he'll be damned if some two-bit hacker screws it all up.


Jericho quirks an eyebrow. He's not really in the mood to have his keyboard stolen and after what he's alerted SHIELD to and been trying to help with he's a little sick of the flack he's been getting from certain SHIELD agents. However… Hawk hasn't yet been one of them… and it's about May. Fine.

The hacker stands and nods down the walking path, inviting Barton to lead the way. Once they've been walking for a few minutes he glances over Hawkward. "So what's on your mind?"


Alerted SHIELD to? Nothing has crossed Hawk's desk. Only thing that's come across in regards to Trent was a visit from Tash. Until the other day.

Hawkeye nods but doesn't lead, nor does he follow. His manner and mien scream 'professional', but only to one who can read such a thing. To the outside, it's a stroll, perhaps a business stroll to talk shop.

As they begin to take the trails, Barton asks, "Why the hell is May running to your side and being so damned closed-mouthed about it. Woman's putting her career on the line, and frankly, as a handler, she sucks. She's losing credibility by our allies, and frankly, it's pissing me off." His head never turns towards the man he's speaking with, rather, his sunglass-covered gaze remains forward. "Are you worth the career of a SHIELD agent, Trent? You tell me."


To his credit, Jericho does give that a few moments thought rather than just snapping back. "Is there a particular reason you're asking me these questions and not her?" Cause really, if Barton wants to know if Jericho is worth the career of a SHIELD agent, maybe just maybe ask the SHIELD agent.

"I'm not sure what you mean by 'running to my side' to be honest. She's brought me in on a few things and did me a huge favor a couple of days ago by helping me not die. Which I appreciate, to be honest. Though I believe that particular bit coincided with wanting to get some answers out of me."

Glancing over to the sunglasses Jeri gives Barton a one shouldered shrug. "As for why she's being close mouthed, again, I'm a hacker, not a telepath. Maybe you should ask her that question. I can only guess she's not trying to say things that she knows I don't want known at large. Although I largely don't tell her that kind of thing, so that she doesn't have to lie." He leaves off for the moment the bit about her being a handler - he'd have to be a SHIELD asset for that and really he's more of a May asset - or Barton being pissed off because he honestly doesn't see how that's relevant.


"Yeah, no. I'm asking you." Barton pauses in his step to look fully at the man. "I want to hear it from your mouth. Are you worth it?" He shakes his head and snorts a soft laugh that holds no humor within, "Because as far as I'm concerned, she's compromised. There isn't a damned thing she can say to me that will convince me unless she lays it all out. And the fact that she's holding secrets from SHIELD about your activities?"

Hawk looks up and down the path first before he continues, "And I can't even begin to imagine that they're above board. For even a moment. Which means, bright boy, that anything you do has her pulled right in. Which brings me back to the question-

"Are you worth it?"


Jericho laughs humorlessly as Hawk stops. "As far as you're concerned. I see. Let me let you in on a not so secret secret, May largely doesn't know what I do. I keep it that way so she doesn’t have to lie to her friends and fellow agents." Hell, May, as much as she's seen, largely doesn't even know what he can do. Tash does, thanks to that file, but Jeri doesn't know about that.

"Am I worth it? The fact that you're even asking suggests to me that you might already have an opinion. I'm a guy who Hydra wants dead and vivisected, who has alerted SHIELD to and is doing most of the legwork on tracking down an awful targeted bioweapon, who participated in the Kush OP voluntarily after you people had arrested me and who apparently your agency wants for some kind of team badly enough to strongarm me into it." Beat. He's clearly a bit less than happy about that. "So no. I'm not worth it." There's… less sarcasm in there than you might think. Is he a lot of trouble? Oh yeah, and he knows it. Would he blame folks for not wanting anything having to do with it? No, not really. Is he a bit bitter about the accusation in light of what he's done and tried to do?

You'd better believe he is.


The measure of a man.

Barton is taking it now, with all his questions pushing as to how the man sees himself. Blue eyes are steel beneath the sunglasses as he listens and watches. He'd asked Tash that night, 'Can we trust him?', and the answer was telling. Then again, she can count the number of people she truly trusts on one hand, with a few fingers left over. 'We can trust him to do what he thinks is best'. Not the best answer, but truthfully, he is exactly the same. Cut from the same cloth.

But his answer to the question is simple.


"Yeah. Heard about it," comes after a little bit of silence. "Seems you and I are going to be teammates."


Jericho finally folds his arms and shifts his weight to his left. "Then you've heard more than I have about it." Elation is not exactly written on his face. This is going down in his books as one of those conversations.

"Anything else?"


"Yeah. You're on my radar." Before, Trent was a blip that wasn't really all that important. Now, however, Barton has a vested interest. And he's given the courtesy of giving Trent a heads-up about it. "If you didn't know, I'm 'Hawkeye' for a reason."

Another chuckle exits the agent, and it, too, has no humor that plays within. "Only reason I know is that people can actually -trust- me. Give it a shot some time. Might make your day a little easier." Turning around to go back the way he came, he pauses midstride again. "Oh yeah. And in case your parents never taught you- trust is earned."


That generates a thin smile as Jericho turns to follow, mostly because his keyboard is still - hopefully - over there. "Mmmm. Yeah, I've heard that. May wanna tell Hill that. Or Manning. Neither of them really inspires trust." He's not joking. SHIELD's always been kind of iffy for him. Too many ways to get him killed. But they are huge reasons that he doesn't trust anyone but May.

"May's earned mine. Maybe, just maybe, I earned some of hers. Or maybe not. You'd have to take that up with her. I try not to push my luck with scary women who could hand my ass to me on a silver platter."


Hawkeye shrugs at the last bit. Frankly, he could probably beat May in hand to hand, though Tash could probably hand him his butt on any given day. "I'm not talking to her, Trent. I'm talking to you."

Now, he's ready to head off. Barton's got more to do, and less time in which to do it. Thursday night means he probably will have to prep for a Friday op, as he can pretty much set his watch to it by now. "Be seeing you, Trent."

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