[ It's heady, this freedom. If he wasn't so well trained, Clint might lose himself in it, compromise himself or the mission. But Clint has lived decades as a spy, and infiltration is second nature by now.
So he builds his persona as he goes. All sleek, economical movements, silent observation and piercing evaluation despite the layers of cloth hiding his gaze. In truth, Sam's not the only one having trouble not watching Clint, and that's good. He wants to draw away attention for now, allow Sam to settle into his role and gain confidence in his act. The less he worries, the less he struggles, the easier it'll be to pass off as natural.
And so maybe Clint sometimes shadows a bit closer than proper, allowing the brush of hands. He's a loyal dog, isn't he? For all that entails. Sam's companion speaks, and Clint shifts, the fall of cloth giving away the way his face turns at the layers hidden in tone.
Let them think what they wish, it's a cover after all. Sam's gaze catches, heavy, and Clint simply resettles. Solid as marble, gaze flicking unseen over the crowded room. Like this, he doesn't need to posture to be threatening. Somehow, even with all the layers of cloth, there's a promise of threat written into him should anyone bother Sam. It's there in the seemingly relaxed lines of his body, the sleek, economical way he moved.
no subject
So he builds his persona as he goes. All sleek, economical movements, silent observation and piercing evaluation despite the layers of cloth hiding his gaze. In truth, Sam's not the only one having trouble not watching Clint, and that's good. He wants to draw away attention for now, allow Sam to settle into his role and gain confidence in his act. The less he worries, the less he struggles, the easier it'll be to pass off as natural.
And so maybe Clint sometimes shadows a bit closer than proper, allowing the brush of hands. He's a loyal dog, isn't he? For all that entails. Sam's companion speaks, and Clint shifts, the fall of cloth giving away the way his face turns at the layers hidden in tone.
Let them think what they wish, it's a cover after all. Sam's gaze catches, heavy, and Clint simply resettles. Solid as marble, gaze flicking unseen over the crowded room. Like this, he doesn't need to posture to be threatening. Somehow, even with all the layers of cloth, there's a promise of threat written into him should anyone bother Sam. It's there in the seemingly relaxed lines of his body, the sleek, economical way he moved.
Still, he's amused. ]
( You gonna rank all your boys, Sam? )