Jaybird and Itsy Bitsy
The shot isn't for Natasha, but it comes close anyway. Jason figures, by the skill which Natasha fights, she'll be able to let it roll off her shoulders. Right? No biggie. Not when the head of the guy running for a good ol' Nat attack blows apart in every direction.
Carefully, Jason pulls the lever back and expels the shell, loading another one into place as he releases it. The stock goes back up on his shoulder, and he peers through the scope. After their buddy's noggin got minced, the rest of the guys aren't too keen on rushing out after Natasha into the open.
The branded crosshair swivels up and swallows a sneaker on the top level of the closest warehouse. Jason's shot splits the guy through the chest, and he flops over only to tumble and skid down the metal roof and off to the ground.
Another shell leaps out of the rifle, and a third bullet eases into place.
How many bad guys does it take to kill a spider? comes through Natasha's frequency in her ear. Another man lets loose a twisted yelp as the bullet flips him around and takes him out. More than this because they don't have bug spray.
Carefully, Jason pulls the lever back and expels the shell, loading another one into place as he releases it. The stock goes back up on his shoulder, and he peers through the scope. After their buddy's noggin got minced, the rest of the guys aren't too keen on rushing out after Natasha into the open.
The branded crosshair swivels up and swallows a sneaker on the top level of the closest warehouse. Jason's shot splits the guy through the chest, and he flops over only to tumble and skid down the metal roof and off to the ground.
Another shell leaps out of the rifle, and a third bullet eases into place.
How many bad guys does it take to kill a spider? comes through Natasha's frequency in her ear. Another man lets loose a twisted yelp as the bullet flips him around and takes him out. More than this because they don't have bug spray.

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The older man laughs.
Dramatically, Jason rolls his eyes, flapping the napkin open and shoving it across his thigh for safe keeping. "Very funny." Cutting his eyes at the other guy. "Don't knock them until you try them, Miss IPA." The old man has his hands up in surrender. "The watermelon ones are amazing. Hey," before the other man can get back in through the door. "Bring me a Root Beer, too, while you're at it." The man continues in, shaking his head, and Jason eyes Natasha for a second or two, ready for the jokes.
Instead of using a fork like a polite boy, he reaches into the pot to pluck up a poor, boiled shrimp with his fingers. It's hot as fuck.
He drops it lightly down onto the table in front of him, hissing.
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He picks up the shrimp with his fingers and Natasha laughs as he drops it, then reaches out with her fork to spear it for herself.
"Manners, Jason. I thought you wanted this to be a date."
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"Manners smanners. Don't be a prude," he says, swishing a hand at her in case she tries to sneak back in for another go at his shrimp. "This is a Southern boil. You're supposed to eat it with your fingers. That's the best part." Hot or not, Jason starts peeling the poor shell off the shrimp, combing it free of its legs and chunking the hull into the bucket at their feet. He grins.
"You can't enjoy the food if you don't enjoy the kill," he says, biting off half of it. HOT, hot hot hot. Lowkey blowing in his mouth.
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