[ It's not like she isn't already used to the routine of weird bizarro transformation sequences. She's even seen her own head planted on a war scene of hawks looking to kill her dead (yes, that's redundant, but so are a bunch of hawkeye-headed hawks), so she knows literal switcheroos aren't begging for a fun time.
But there were definitely moments where the uncertainty kicked in, where she thought maybe this was it and she'd be become that weird girl with the giant pet spider. So yes — she was pretty futzing worried that Peter might not turn back, that she wouldn't see the crinkle of his dorky smile again, or get some late night surprise visits with a bag of little donuts ready for her under his arm.
Hearing him again is nice. It's sweet, and maybe she's got her own stupid grin when he calls, but whatever. ]
Sorry? Peter? I'm having a blank. Was it ... Peter Palmer? [ As if she could hide her smile in her obvious voice. ] I told you, Mr. Palmer. You could always count on your friendly neighborhood Hawkeye.
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But there were definitely moments where the uncertainty kicked in, where she thought maybe this was it and she'd be become that weird girl with the giant pet spider. So yes — she was pretty futzing worried that Peter might not turn back, that she wouldn't see the crinkle of his dorky smile again, or get some late night surprise visits with a bag of little donuts ready for her under his arm.
Hearing him again is nice. It's sweet, and maybe she's got her own stupid grin when he calls, but whatever. ]
Sorry? Peter? I'm having a blank. Was it ... Peter Palmer? [ As if she could hide her smile in her obvious voice. ] I told you, Mr. Palmer. You could always count on your friendly neighborhood Hawkeye.