nexus_sages | made waves with some friends I know

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made waves with some friends I know

The season is a'changing, the weather is warmer. The forecast calls for high temperature, low humidity and a light breeze. A near perfect day. What better reason to gather the friends and have a good time with a bonfire? Grab a beer, have a seat. Cheery tunes fill the salty air. There's plenty of room and so much to eat.

Matt Murdock is actually dressed for the beach. Still likely more than usual. He burns so easily. There's no way he could have done this alone. Anyone who is anyone in Nexus knows that there is that distinct Verity Willis touch on everything. If the sounds and the sights don't get you, it is going to be whatever Clint has on the grill. That man is magic.

[ooc; Come on in, guys and gals! Hop threads, twist time for sooner, later and all things in between. It's a real party. Don't be shy!]

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"It's good to see you too." She's not getting down yet. He's going to have to either ask or give her something better to do with her hands.

He shouldn't ask her suggestive questions like that after turning her down. Really, Clint. "Hmm. Everything looks so good. What do you recommend?"

Well, now that she's stable on his back, her weight isn't a problem. She can stay for a while, if she likes--he's in no hurry to chase her off. Of course, if Clint Barton could ever communicate effectively with women, his life would have been very different a long time ago.

"Depends on what you like. I like flavor, so one'a those burgers with bacon in has got my name on it. Gonna melt some cheese over it, it'll be great."

It's a commanding view, she has to admit. And he's surprisingly comfortable. She'll rest her chin on his shoulder while she surveys the options.

"Mm. That does sound good. I'll have one too, when you're going to take a break for your own food." She points to one of the smaller burgers; he's seen her eat and knows she has a healthy appetite, but she wants to save room to try lots of things. There's the potato salad with mustard in it, after all. Such delights don't come around every day!

"Sounds good," he agrees, mentally reserving that burger for her. "The first-round stuff is gonna need to come off, soon, thought I'd take a break then. Wanna help?"

Verity's potato salad is definitely worth saving room, even at the cost of a smaller burger.

"Sure! How can I help?" Ah, Clint, you've learned one of her buttons early. Tell her she's helping and she'll do all sorts of things.

She might even get off your back.

It's a good button to figure out. Of course, Clint has a similar button: tell him somebody needs help, and he'll do all sorts of things.

"Well, I've got stuff that's close to done on all three grills, and it's gonna need to come off in a hurry before it gets overdone. If you like to cook, maybe you could wrangle one'a the grills while I take care of the other two?"

Good thing the sorts of help she'd be looking for from him is with stuff like not having enough hugs in her life.

"Sure, I can do that. I'll do the veggies for you." Which means, yes, down she goes. He gets another squeeze before she goes to find a platter and some tongs to work with.

That's a much better problem than Eastern European tracksuit gangsters all up in your business.

"Thanks!" He's sincerely appreciative; as a bonus, this lets him focus on what he's best at: cookin' meat. Well, what he's best at after archery.

True, very true. Tracksuits are never a good sign except at an actual track and field event.

"My pleasure." It truly is. And she's not unfamiliar with the concept of cooking with fire, so she can handle herself admirably. Not with his skill or flair, perhaps, but nothing's left to burn and that's a victory all its own.

The real secret to grilling is that flair is unnecessary--as long as it doesn't burn, it'll taste good, and that's a win. Between them, they'll be putting platters of deliciousness on the table fit to tempt anyone.

Lovely. When they're done and the grills are bare, Frea gives Clint a playful nudge. "Good work. Learn to cook in a way that works in the winter and you may be onto something here."

"Oh, you think these don't work in the winter?" he counters, nudging back. "I'll have you know, I can make chili in a snowstorm with one'a these bad boys."

She'll take the nudging good-naturedly, but also takes it as a chance to claim his arm and wrap hers around it. "Well... okay, I believe you can, but why would you want to?"

Well, that got him caught fairly quickly. "So I can provide color commentary while my friends have a snow fight," he answers, grinning. "And they know not to mess with me, or they won't get any--and ohh, they can smell it. Noses make great arguments."

"Do they?" She rests her chin on his shoulder and studies his nose. There's a lot of intense staring going on. No nose has ever been studied so thoroughly at a beach party before.

"I dunno, yours seems pretty quiet."

Clint chuckles, wrinkling up his nose. "That's because you're listening to the wrong one." He wafts his plate under her chin, with all its rising aromas of grilled deliciousness. "Imagine it's a cold winter day, the air is crisp and clear, and then you catch a whiff of chili--warm and spicy and great."

Frea would rather not imagine anything as horrible as winter and cold and snow, thank you. It doesn't bode well for her. But she'll enjoy the deliciousness. "I bet it's nice. And if you're trying to get your arm back, you're going to have to do more to tempt me."

Way to go, Clint, you total goon. "Nah, you got my arm, fair an' square," he concedes, "just setting the scene. Uh, you wanna go sit somewhere?"

It's her own fault for bringing it up, at least partially. Besides, she won herself quite the prize. She's got better things to think about. "Okay. Lead the way."

"There's some seats in the shade over here," Clint suggests, steering them toward the seats in question. Lucky comes ambling along after, hoping for treats and affection.

"Perfect." Frea will happily settle between the two gentlemen and give them both the treats and affection they want from her. It's easier with Lucky: a piece of her burger and lots of pets.

"I'm glad you're here."

It might be harder to give Clint the sort of treats he wants--he's often at odds with himself over what that even is. Lucky, meanwhile, is easy to please.

"Yeah? Me, too. I mean, I'm glad you're here."

It would require a more decided direction, it's true. She can't decide it for him, for all she wants to make his life as beautiful as he deserves. A tree grown with too much support isn't able to stand on its own against the gentle breezes, nevermind the storm.

"Aww, thanks. Let's both be glad we're both here." She wants to lean against his side while they eat, but that would make it hard for him to eat. It'll keep until later.

If he's worth the time he needs, then he needs time. And if he's not, well, then save that time for someone who's worth it. Either way, he'll figure himself out eventually (too late, as often as not).

"That sounds good. I, uh, like your outfit."

He's worth all the time in the world. She won't begrudge him the time he needs.

"Thank you. You look nice too. What does this symbol mean?" Cap's shield. Have fun, fanboy.

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