#ontargets

Caught up, finally. Though not without surprise on his face as John came to a halt near the man he had stopped, doubling over slightly and holding his side which stung from a stitch. A glance behind him told him that he had become separated with his partner on the job, chasing after different personnel; and a look forward told him that he might have been directed to the wrong one, despite suspicious appearance all the same.

A bow. That was the key item of this case which had lasted at least a couple of days. But why would anyone be carrying one wherever they went? John straightened up, taking note of the accent; American? He conducted a split second scan up and down the stranger, brows furrowed from heaving lungs and plain puzzlement.

          “Er... sorry. You are...? Were you in London two nights ago?”

Breaking into...well anywhere had never been a real challenge for Natasha and an apartment was no different -- especially one belonging to him. She eyed the view from the fire escape, giving herself all of a moment before she turned back to the closest window and tapped against it to gain the attention of the apartment’s occupant. It might have been better to give a call before just dropping by but this was Clint Barton, she couldn’t expect him to answer.