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Clint laughed as Verity poked her head in. "Hey, Red. Yeah. It's annoying isn't it? So cute yet so annoying. You're annoying aren't you?" Clint stood up, trying to walk as the dog started to dance circles and weave between his legs. It was getting really loud. "Hey. Hey. Dog. Shhhhh. You're not supposed to be here. So we gotta be really quiet okay?" Clint walked towards his desk, grabbing a slice of pizza and handing a little bit of the crust for the dog. "There yah go." He laughed as the dog licked his fingers and then proceeded to beg for more. 

The Arrival of Pizza Dog || OPEN!

Verity hadn’t meant to snoop, really, she hadn’t, she’d been looking for the guy from her Modern Media class who’d borrowed her book and she knew his room was somewhere along this hall, but then she’d heard it, the cutest, sweetest, nicest sound in the world, the sound of a puppy. 

Growing up, all Verity had ever wanted was a dog. Dog’s couldn’t lie, dogs didn’t care if she had crappy powers, and most importantly, dogs were fluffy and adorable. Her brother however, had such a severe dog allergy that to even go near one was likely to make him cough up a long. So no dog for Verity, just a stupid hamster who barely ever moved. What kind of a hamster doesn’t run around? A lousy one.

So when she’d heard that noise and seen the very slightly ajar door, she couldn’t help but push it open a little more and peak in. “Hello? Sorry I- that is the cutest puppy in the world!” she exclaimed as she could sight of the little ball of adorableness and love.

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Clint jerked up as he heard his door stormed open. He saw Winter and quickly relaxed his stance. The dog, however, was already happy to abide a pretty girl's wishes. Of course. He smiled to himself and shrugged. "He's a puppy! They like to bounce off the walls." He smiled as the dog seemed to burrow itself into the poor girl's lap. "Hey. Dog. Common. Don't ruin the pretty lady's dress." He dropped down to their level, patting a hand on the dog's head. God. It was so small and tiny. He gulped a little at the cuteness before turning to look at Winter. 

"I'm sad. I don't get to save you anymore, Snow." 

The Arrival of Pizza Dog || Clint & Winter

Winter walked, well more limped towards Clint’s dorm, ready to show to the boy that no she was no longer in crutches and she wouldn’t need his assistance anymore. Of course she wasn’t expecting the large amount of noise coming form the boy’s dorm and thinking that someone was trying to kill him she opened the door in a panic.

What Winter was not expecting to see was Clint trying to lure a dog towards him with a red shoe. With half of a smile Winter walked towards Clint before she looked at the dog and proceeded to lower herself onto the ground, snapping her fingers a few times to get the dog’s attention before she patted her lap. A few moments later said dog stopped what it was doing and began trying to burrow itself into Winter’s lap.

"You’re horrible with dogs you know that Prince Charming?"

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Clint looked up as someone walked in. He knew it was against the rules, but he also knew that a little bit of begging and some puppy dog eyes might win the dean over. He smiled as Gwen walked in. Although whatever happened between them had been hard and difficult, she was still someone he really cared about. She lit up the room when she walked in, and Clint needed that in his life right now. 

"I had to save him." He shrugged nonchalantly, still sitting on the ground with his legs stretched out in front of him. "Don't get too attached though. I gotta give him up tomorrow." He said, more to himself than to Gwen. "Whatcha doing here, Blondie?" 

Gwen didn't know what she was doing there. Okay wait, that's a lie, she does; despite everything that happened between her and Clint, she still cared about him. Wanted to make sure he was okay. The blonde girl even had a peace offering-a tub of vanilla ice cream and a huge bag of Utz potato chips smacked against her back in a drawstring bag.

Her jeans capri's and button down loose light green shirt gave her a casual appearance, Gwen's hair in a ponytail, her slip ons smacking the ground. Nearing Clint's dorm room, her eyes widened when she saw that the door was open, a pleading voice and high pitched tips assaulting her ears. Pushing the door open gently, Gwen gave a gasp and a little giggle when a tiny Yorkshire terrier instantly turned away from Clint and scampered towards her, leaping into her arms.

"What on earth are you doing with a dog, Amusing?" Gwen jokes softly, stretching the dog under the chin while it painted happily.

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My... hypothetical... girlfriend wouldn't need a bodyguard. And I wasn't offering. *smirks* Just suggesting. 

No way. I draw the line at getting a bodyguard. You want to be somebody’s bodyguard, get a girlfriend.

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... *doesn't say anything*

Why don’t you wanna be recognizable? Are you on the run from the law? Or the mob? Or the CIA?

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HAWKEYE, by Matt Fraction & David Aja

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The Arrival of Pizza Dog || OPEN!

Okay. This looks bad. 

Bad decision of the week. And he thought he was getting smarter, especially since he's going to University. Damn. Who would have thought a carnie like him would end up here, in this fancy dorm, that is now being torn into shreds by an over-energetic dog. He didn't really know what to do, so he just stood there, watching as this- lovely really cute puppy thing on the street looking forlorn and a bit like baby Clint- bounced off his walls. 

The dog yapped and started barking and laughing. Is that why they don't let you keep pets in dorm rooms? 

"Hey. Hey, kid. Hey. Here." He waved a red shoe, borrowed from the lovely Natasha. "Come here. Come here. Chew on this." 

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I don't blame yah. It does kinda suck here, especially now with the fallen buildings. 

What's your name, kid?

If I got out of here I wouldn’t come back.

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Wow, Red. I've always wanted a hawk on my shoulder blades, or arrows down my spine. But tattoos, they are too recognizable. 

You should. Though, fair warning, it’s totally addictive. I got one tiny little star on my a- …very very lower back, then a month later I’m back for these -pulls up her sleeve, shows him the bird and feathers on her wrist- then a year and a half I’ve got a snake on one arm, fairies on the other, a tiger, a dragon, a mario which I hadn’t planned and a solar system on my leg.

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You're not. You need a bodyguard, at least someone to help you till you can stay upright. 

Clint, no, I’m fine- [She started to protest but quickly gave up, seeing there was no point in it. Leaning against his chest the girl pressed her thumb against the wound, waiting silently until they reached the clinic.]

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Fuck. That looks sick. I've always wanted a tattoo. Never gotten around to it though. 

I think my worst is probably on my side, pushed off a jungle gym and this broken piece of metal went into my side on the way down.

I got a tattoo over it, though. A tiger, and it looks like the scar is going through his eye.

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That's fine. Clint thought to her, and then to himself- I want it over too. He didn't like this new invasion to his mind. It made him nervous. It had been a long time since he had felt even the slightest bit nervous. 

Clint sucked in a breath as the image of Department X floated through his mind. He didn't know a lot about it, just what he had read through files. And... what Nat had let out during some vulnerable moments. But that was not for Emma to see, he tried to mentally forget that part. Conscious. The man was conscious too. He had tried to reach out. That voice seemed familiar but he couldn't quite recall it. 

Clint winced as Emma pulled out of his mind. Department X. Russian. Treatment... Yeah. He's going to have to talk to Nat. This is not going to be good either. She doesn't like talking about Russia. It was a touchy subject. "Orders? That he carried out involuntarily." Fuck. Clint was never very good at this intelligence thing. Sure, send him out to rescue hostages or retrieve a file. But detective work? That was for guys in suits, and he certainly do not own a suit. 

How does that make you feel?

Emma caught the slight thought about a certain Russian but didn’t press. She didn’t have time to figure this man out. Any other day, she’d be glad intrude on his mind and figure what made the bird boy tick. She relaxed a little before jumping back into his mind.

I just want this over…She muttered before continuing from the fragments. 

Mentally Emma continued to watch the moments play in distorted vision. Blurred lights shined in both the recipient’s eyes and hers and she felt that voided numbness again. It made her skin crawl. Attention zoning in Emma focused on Department X, as someone had said moments before.  Rotating her shoulders, Emma heard their voices, “He’s rejecting it treatment..” a thick strong male Russian stated. “Administer a sedative”  After this Emma felt the pure terror, the need to get out clutch it’s hands around her. Just as it seized the man before Emma felt herself gasp. ‘Emma, help me’ echoed around her head over and over again

Pulling out again Emma took a breath, “He didn’t do it by his control. As you can see. Someone gave him the orders.” She kept her composure as she spoke still uneasy, “There you go…”

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*Doesn't say anything. He takes off the purple t-shirt he has on, easily ripping it into two strips of fabric. He wraps her leg up with an almost scary efficiency. Gently, he picked her up in a bridal carry, and marches her down to the clinic.*

Clint I’m going to live. [She took a few shallow breaths before the girl shifted her hand to her leg, feeling the material of her shorts before she swallowed and shifted her head. Shaking hands moved the material of her shorts upwards, revealing the white ace bandage before she slowly started to unravel it. As she drew closer to the stitches she saw a flower of blood starting to blossom.] I ripped a stitch. Of fucking course…

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I could ask you the same. I'm here to help clean the mess up. And, to... come back to school. *pulls a face*

-she lowers hers and stares at him- What are you doing here?

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in·ti·ma·cy (noun)  

1. close or warm friendship or understanding; personal relationship 2. a close association with or detailed knowledge or deep understanding of a place, subject, period of history, etc.