OOM: 2011, Helicarrier

[redintheledger]

After talking with Fury, she works on her after-action report, and drinks just a few too many cups of coffee.

The result is, by the time she should grab something to eat again, she's far too wired to try and deal with the cafeteria and the number of fellow agents, analysts, and crew that would be there. She grabs some Doritos from the vending machine, and retreats to her assigned room.

It's possibly not the best frame of mind in which to call Clint, but...

She misses him. And needs to let him know where she is. She'd told Fury she'd be in San Diego for a week, but in the resulting hours, she's come to the conclusion that she really should ask.

Pulling out her phone, she presses his name in her contact list, and waits.

Please don't be in a late meeting.

Comments

[hasthehighground]

"Okay," he echoes. "I don't have any short-notice vacation time, but I might be able to leave early."

He can't see Beamon resisting too hard. He'd say not resisting at all, except when they're needed for meetings, but Henry's managed to land two weeks of half-days since his family's not moving with them to the upcoming NASA project.

[redintheledger]

"Good to know. I'll keep you posted."

She draws in a breath, more shaky than she'd like.

"It's, uh. I'm glad I caught you, not your voicemail."

[hasthehighground]

"See," Clint says, and -- while there's still underlying tenseness -- the levity's real. "That sounds like a criticism of my voicemail."

What'd it ever do to you, Romanoff.

Quieter: "Thanks. For calling."

[redintheledger]

The levity prompts a sudden smile, even if he can't see it. He might be able to hear it, though, as she says,

"You're welcome."

[hasthehighground]

He doesn't exactly return the smile, but the silence that follows is a little easier.

"Well," he says, after a few seconds. "I have plans I should probably get ready for."

[redintheledger]

"Oh! That's right, it's Tuesday." She'd forgotten what the day was, rather than the date. "Good luck?"



And I should...eat something. So, I'll see you Thursday?"

[hasthehighground]

"Yeah." He waits for a moment after she hangs up to do likewise.

Tuesday Night Poker (which is really only a formality for "Tuesday Night beer-and-wings-away-from-the-significant-other-unless-he's-also-here,-in-which-case-expect-no-mercy,-and-also-poker" these days. He loves his friends.) doesn't start for another hour and a half.

But. He needs to take a shower, and make dinner, and...

He's not sure why relief she's alive feels so much like personal betrayal that she ever left. He's not the person whose op she ruined, and... she's back. Everything should be fine, now.

Right?

Right.