"Don't care as long as it lasts until I'm dead. Which shouldn't be all that much longer statistically speaking. And no problem, just making the offer."

Clint dusted his hands before flipping open one of the bakery boxes. The scent of warm glaze and cinnamon washed over his face and Clint hummed pleasantly. He picked on out, using a piece of wax paper to hold it and nipped a bite out.

He turned towards Jim and jerked his head. "Where do you wanna start?"