@valentinadefcntaine
Okay, he hadn't totally fallen apart and gone straight to shooting in the archery range for days on end. He'd waited a week. Until everyone was focused on the next steps, until he knew he wouldn't disappear into it too deeply. He had honestly intended to just shoot and clear his mind and then go home -- he hadn't been looking for trouble. But that had never meant much when it came to Clint Barton.
She must've thought the range was empty, because Clint was in the middle of reconfiguring a trick arrow quietly in the corner. And who could've guessed that his aids, still futzed up from the electric side of the Hydra attack, would've connected to her bluetooth? He heard her whole conversation, and Valentina had no idea. Clearly, or she wouldn't have even hinted at some of the stuff she said. Clint wished he could've recorded it, but thing was -- it wasn't exactly concrete. Shady as hell, and the words Reception Incident were dropped with all kinds of implications. A 'gift' came up too -- the dagger they'd stolen? But nothing solid. No real proof. And Clint had almost lost his best friends to these guys. If she was involved, he wanted to nail her properly
"Wait, that didn't come out right," he murmured to himself. "Good thing it was just in your head, Barton." Talking to himself in the middle of a break-in was maybe not the wisest choice. But it was better than giving in to panic. This was the director of the CIA, even her home office was bound to have some serious security. Just because he was inside didn't mean he was home free. He couldn't help but be a little nervous, and when he was nervous, he talked. "All right. If I was clandestine documents that proved I was a filthy, filthy traitor... where would I be?" he mused, looking around and tapping an arrow against his chin.