Who: Ana Adams, Clint Barton (Hawkeye)
What: Some TLC post a rough night.
When: Post a mission that was rougher than it should've been.
Where: Ana's apartment above Adams' Books.
He said he was coming... And he was late. Anan didn't know nearly enough about Clint's life to know exactly where he was, but she'd observed enough to guess. He fought, he killed, undoubtably for an organisation that would rather stay secret. That was fine, she had secrets enough on her own.
He wouldn't be a part of it if he wasn't skilled... Didn't stop her from worrying. Nursing a cold drink in the kitchen, wearing little more than a shirt that he'd left behind, she restrained the urge to send a shade to look for him.
He'll be fine. Clint would be fine.