( he hums a vague noise of agreement, one that notably says nothing and is entirely, wholly avoidant and dismissive of how often clint manages to break either himself or his stuff — he's only human, and his bow's a stick with some string. 'highly durable's is not a descriptor either ordinarily carry.

he re-emerges at the top of the stairs with nothing in his hands, and seemingly nothing extra on his person, and gives her a flat look at the question about valuables. )

Last time I had valuables, I did what I thought was the smart thing and hid 'em in my basement. ( it was smart only up to the point where he made the decision to tell barney where it was and what it was. smart — still smart? — enough to tell barney he could take it all if anything happened to clint. not smart enough to realise that barney would take it all regardless of what happened to clint.

nothing to hold against him, mind — some of it, clint had owed him, after all.

(valuables! a guy like him! that's funny.) ) Think you've gotten me confused with one of them rich Avengers, Storm. ( anyway. ) It's a corkboard. Had some stuff I was working on.