<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://thesubclubbooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/pic-2.jpg)</div><strong>Character Name:</strong>Clint Barton<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>(20:03 pm), April 19th 2017<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Josie's Bar, Hells Kitchen,  New York City<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Blue jeans, black shirt, black leather jacket<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Janet<strong>Mentioned:</strong>The Convicts<br/><strong>Warnings:</strong>N/A<br/><hr/><br/>Clint was frowning off into lala-land as he sat in the car, blaring obscene music. He had an arm resting comfortably along the thin, rounded edge of the door, his hand clenched into an irritable fist. He just couldn’t stop thinking about how Steve had went and included convicts. He hadn’t heard Janet’s initial tap against the window while he was deep in his musings. He just started to get a feeling that he was being watched, which brought his blue eyes back into focus. There was a shadow spilling across the vehicle’s interior, drawing Clint’s eyes over to the passenger window. As he gazed upon Janet, his brows never drew apart as he gave her a stubborn stare. When she returned a<em>look</em>, Clint sighed in exasperation and jabbed out with a finger to kill the radio. Instead of unlocking the doors so she could get in, Clint popped open the driver’s side and stepped out—he needed the fresh air. He thought sitting in a vehicle listening to angry music would have made him feel better, but it hadn’t done a thing.<br/><br/>Closing the door, Clint walked around the back of the car and circled around to the sidewalk to meet his old friend. As much as he wanted to retain his frown, as soon as he came within Janet’s proximity, his face actually unwound from its hard expression. He bowed his head as though attempting to pathetically hide the hint of a smile that made the corners of his lips twitch. It had been a long time, and she was just as beautiful as he remembered.<br/><br/>“Hey Jan,” Clint greeted and naturally motioned to pull her into a warm embrace.