Mirror ∞ Marvel ∞ bk. 1

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

As he finished off his fifth slice of pizza, Clint heard a knock at his door. Lucky shot up, tail wagging incessantly. Clint pushed his chair out and went over to the door. Bobbi stood in the doorway as he opened it.

"Hey Clint," she chirped, glancing him up and down. Then her eyes lit up when she saw Lucky push his way past the man to get to her. She bent down. "Hey Lucky!"

Clint rolled his eyes and stood aside to let her enter. "I was surprised you were in the area."

"Fury has me between jobs," replied Bobbi simply as she stepped into his apartment. She took off her white coat and hung it beside the door. Somehow her outfit of a blue shirt and white jeans made her seem even taller than she already naturally stood. Her blonde hair went to her chest in waves. "For awhile he had me going after missing chitauri artefacts." She turned to him as he walked back over to the open pizza box. "What about you? What's your mission?"

"Remember that girl Coulson was watching for years? The 0-8-4?" He folded the pizza box in half and stuffed it in the overflowing trash can. "Fury wants the loose ends tied up."

"You're going after the sorceress?" Bobbi watched him in careful surprise. "After Loki-"

"I'm fine," he insisted too quickly, spinning a purple pencil around in his fingers. But in a lapse of concentration, it flew from his fingers and fell to the floor. "I don't need you to argue with me more than Fury already has, Bobbi."

She shook her head. "I won't. We've spent enough time arguing." But Bobbi did reach down and pick up the purple pencil for him. "I won't shy away from calling you stupid, though."

"Hey!" Clint rolled his eyes.

Bobbi shook her head. "Why isn't Natasha going with you?"

"I work better alone on this type of job," argued Clint immediately. "This is going to take long hours of staking out DC. I don't need the risk of a partner tipping off the target."

She hummed in fake acceptance of his explanation. "So it isn't because you don't want to put up a front again."

"Bobbi you're a biologist not a psychologist. I get enough from Shield's doctors already." Standing up from the table, Clint grabbed an arrow from his open quiver on the nearby white couch and began to spin it. He watched grey clouds hinder the sunlight from the floor to ceiling windows at the side of his penthouse apartment. "I can handle magic. I've done the rodeo with it already. If anything, I'm more ready than anyone else to handle this target."

"It took me years to get over my last big job," Bobbi reminded him, sitting on the arm of the couch near Clint. "It's only been six months, Clint. And you lost someone in this fight, too."

"Oh please," Clint muttered, "you can drop the charade, Bobbi. I know Coulson's alive."

She stuttered. "What?"