Keep em flyin

They’ve all been waiting with BATED BREATH ( or in his case a RESIGNED SIGH or three ) & the REVEAL is finally here.  Clint watches with interest as the cover is whipped off of the artifact.  From his vantage point, it seems UNIMPRESSIVE.  A lot of fuss for a chunk of ROCK.

( But the thing is, he’s well - trained in the art of OBSERVANCE.  While it isn’t widespread, he’s noticed that some of the attendees are suddenly VISIBLY UNCOMFORTABLE. )

He drains the last of his whiskey ( because if SHIT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN he isn’t going to waste a good drink ) & he casually sets the empty glass on one of the standing cocktail tables because something doesn’t feel right. 

He wants to be WRONG.  ( He doesn’t think he is. )

Clint takes a half - step closer to the person standing next to him –––––––

❝ You seem a little TENSE. ❞

Zinda had hung back, behind Babs and the other girls, to watch the crowd more than anything else. She had a job to do, and DRINKIN’ and DANCIN’ wasn’t everything on her list. She may not be the top investigator on suspicious artifacts or the people clamoring to get it, but she could offer EXTRA MUSCLE if things went south. 

And boy, were they heading to the SHITTER real quick. She’d seen this in Gotham before, some rogue unleashing havoc on entire crowds, toying with their minds, POISONING them. She pressed into her ear to alert Bertinelli but when she didn’t get a reply, her frown only DEEPENED. 

“I’m fine,” she replied, taking a quick glance at the stranger. “But it seems that we’re the ONLY two around here that can say that huh?” Zinda put two and two together quickly enough. Hmm, maybe the mysterious and SINISTER ancient artifact is to blame. 

“Well, I’m fixin to COVER the dern thing back up,” she said, stepping right into the disoriented crowd. 

WHEN it’s revealed she goes onto her tiptoes to get a better look, but when it reaches her – she drops her glass of wine, it shattering onto the ground. dinah doesn’t even know what to do or what to say when it happens though, it’s instant. she knows it’s changed, it’s gone. 

“i’m – i’m so sorry, you didn’t get hit with the glass did you?” 

her voice is empty when she asks, unable to look anywhere but the floor. “or wine, it might stain.” 

(post plot drop!!)

Zinda had been in the middle of a joke about the artifact––something mumbled under her breath, silly. She expected Dinah to elbow her to shut her up. What she did not expect was a broken glass and a SPACED out Canary. 

“FUCK the glass, honey. What’s the matter?” 

The woman walked up, and the whole damn room seemed to bend around her. It took Steve a minute just to process who she was. He’d heard Zinda was here, but he hadn’t expected to meet her HERE HERE. ( It seemed the future swallowed more and more of ‘em. ) He blinked once, twice, before giving her the broadest, boldest of grins. His mission was forgotten; the fact that his face was different was forgotten. They were soldiers on the field, even if the field looked a little different. “Believe me — you don’t want to dance with me. I’ve stepped on more than one foot this evening.” He moved forward, the room a distant sound. “Zinda… Jesus, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

When the fella blinked at her, all owl eyed, she started to check if she had suffered a wardrobe malfunction. Then he smiled and spoke and Zinda thought for a brief moment that she’d had one too many already. She knew that grin, and there was certainly something about that voice. Get it together, she told herself. You’re seeing GHOSTS. 

But when he called her by her name, she gasped and dragged him out to the dance floor in an attempt to disguise the enormous hug she gave him. She knew that earnest tone anywhere, decades or disguises be DAMNED. “I don’t think I’d mind getting my toes stepped on, just this once. Goddammit, I missed you.” 

Roy looks up from the glass of WATER he was drinking when Zinda stops in front of him. “Did you now?” He knew her mainly through his mother, and he does think she’s COOL. 

“I don’t know … I’m a bad dancer.”

“Well ya can’t come to a joint like this and be a WALLFLOWER all night. Come on, I’m gonna teach you how to JITTERBUG!” 

“ I can’t believe you did that. Who am I kidding? I do. You really are something, Z. “   She shook her head in disbelief and amusement at the same time. Zinda was simply one of the boldest people she knew.    “ Hate to break it to you but I don’t really dance. However, I can’t let you sit on my lap. “

“You know me. I’ve got a reputation to uphold,” Zinda flashed her a crooked grin. She bit her tongue, a quick retort about how Babs had better rhythm than half these goofs almost spilling over. 

“Fine,” she said, then her expression became serious. “I’ve been doin’ a lot of dancin’ but I haven’t heard nothin’ yet. Just dumb gossip.” 

“DO you mind?” she holds her camera up, “i had to sneak it in since i’m technically not press but i love your outfit.” 

“Don’t have to twist my arm, sugar pie!” Zinda puts her hands on her hips and grins. 

Claire laughed. “You really asked Thor if you could do a body shot off him?” She shook her head with a stifled laugh and threw her hands up in surrender. “Fine. You win. You’re going to have to hold me up in these damn things though,” she motioned to the heels she was wearing. 

“One of these days, Temple. One of these days,” there was no mistaking the wistfulness in her voice as she glanced back towards wherever Thor was hovering. “Golly, built like a brick shithouse, I tell you what,” she looked back at Claire, holding out her hand. “I ain’t got no problem leadin, sister. Hop to it!” 

❝ BULLSHIT YOU DID, BLAKE, ❞ far too loud for PRESENT COMPANY but that doesn’t even seem to register, the crooked smile creepin’ across his face so gcddamned SMUG you’d think there was more n’ just a dance at stake.

 ❝ — — But if you wanna dance you could just try ASKIN’ NICE, I know that’s a real change for you. ❞ 

“ Oh please Barnes,” the grin that unfurls is just the wrong side of PREDATORY, and she leans in even closer. “We both know you like it a little MEAN.” 

“I won the bet,” she said. “That means you owe me a dance.”