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Genus Panthera

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The first thing Tony thinks is that this is awesome. And okay, Clint's having a little transformed-right-out-of-my-pants Bruce issue going on, but still. "I've heard of you people," Tony tells him, grinning. It's not that he's not shocked, it's just that he's had a near death experience and also his brain catches up quickly.

Also, he's kind of impressed, and it's not easy to impress Tony Stark. It's like a little circle of something. Amazingness, maybe. He feels a little giddy with it and that's helping a lot with the surprise.

"Barton," he says, breathy with excitement, his eyes wide. He's probably coming off a little manic, "Barton, this could be amazing for science."

"My science, I mean, specifically," he adds, when the tiger draws back, a hilarious little scoot that reminds Tony of armpit dogs, maybe. Like a small, threatened animal. Its ears go back.

His ears. Clint's.

So cool.

And then Clint whirls and bounds away in a streak of orange and white and black, his tail flicking as the whole fucking half ton of him disappears over the pile of rubble that had been a rickety tower. Communications maybe. He and Barton had taken it out just before the robot-whatever-thing had appeared and re-done their job for them and then tried to kill them before Clint had literally bitten it's head off.

"Barton?" Tony yells, because he'd sort of half-expected Clint to appear Lion King-like on top of the rubble to pose dramatically and maybe be smug and show off a bit before fucking changing back so he could put his pants back on.

It's what Tony would have done.

"Cap?" he says, after he's stood there for a long while with no sign of Clint re-appearing, "I think I lost Hawkeye."

"What?" It's kind of a shriek. Steve sounds really alarmed.

"Oh. No. Not that way. He's. Um. I think he's run away."