[She greets him with an acknowledging nod, the corners of her mouth curling gently in a small smile. He wouldn't have gotten that reaction if she didn't know him, and if it wasn't the least bit entertaining to picture him ringing the bell without a hope of a response. If he timed it right, he could probably get a tune going.]
You've been here too long.
[He's welcome to treat that like a question, if he wants. She's not one to pry. It's meant to be insincere criticism of how he's passing the time.
To call Clint Barton easily recognizable would be an understatement, although admittedly, he doesn't look his best. His physicality isn't in line with the—fairly distant—memory she has. She wouldn't cross him, anyway. For her part, she's up to fighting shape, and that's as much an indication of her recent arrival as anything else.]
no subject
You've been here too long.
[He's welcome to treat that like a question, if he wants. She's not one to pry. It's meant to be insincere criticism of how he's passing the time.
To call Clint Barton easily recognizable would be an understatement, although admittedly, he doesn't look his best. His physicality isn't in line with the—fairly distant—memory she has. She wouldn't cross him, anyway. For her part, she's up to fighting shape, and that's as much an indication of her recent arrival as anything else.]