MC4A
Fill: 7
Prompt: 3D (Cookie)
Representations: Phil Coulson; Clint Barton; Lucky; Deaf Clint
Bonus Challenges: Gingersnap; Second Verse (Most Human Bean; Lost Llama)
Word count: 1,416
Ever since he was young, he had known the power of the simple cookie. He had seen it time and again in school, in comics, in his own life. When someone was down, you gave them a warm drink and a cookie. It was magic how those two things put together lifted them up until they could smile again. Sometimes, a cookie by itself was enough to help. Sometimes they needed a bit more and that was when the drink came in. It was even better if the cookie was one they could dunk into the drink and have it melt somewhat.
This knowledge of how great cookies were was what stopped him from going into the Rangers when all of the boys around him were doing similar. He didn't want to go out and fight. He wanted to be the one to help those who returned from fighting and needed a little pick-me-up. Hence why he went to culinary school and learned the art of baking, cooking, and crafting drinks.
He spent the time he wasn't studying, working. He would work at whatever café would have him and learn everything he could from them. There was nothing that he wouldn't do to be able to give someone the courage to smile again. Eventually he graduated, and with some help from his parents and the bank, he created his own place to give people their happiness back.
Coulson's was a simple and cosy place. It wasn't meant to be lavish, it wasn't meant to make anyone uncomfortable. There was a book corner for those who wanted to lose themselves in the life of someone else for a few moments. There was a beanbag corner for those who wanted to sink away from the world for a bit. There was a communal area for people who wanted to socialise and forget their own troubles.
It was place to ignore reality and bask in the simple joy of a baked good and a delicious drink. With the knowledge he had gained from all of his study, he knew how to make it work and he had enough savings that the start-up period wasn't as hard as it could have been. He loved the place, it was exactly what he wanted it to be. And the people that came in certainly seemed to agree with him.
They would come in slowly, tiredly. They would look around with interest and give a small smile when they saw the area that they liked the most. They would ask for a drink and a snack. He would give them that and then they would vanish into their own worlds where nothing was wrong and they had all they needed for the moment.
He had no need to go looking for magic in the outside world when he saw it every day in his own café. The people who came in with tried steps almost always left with a bounce. They would smile at Phil and thank him for the time away from reality they had had in his establishment. Positioned as he was, he saw many a soldier come through and he knew he had made the right choice.
No doubt he would have been good at killing people, just as he was with piping delicate designs on cupcakes, but it wasn't what he had wanted to do. He put his steady hands to use in another area and those who had chosen differently thanked him for it. He saw the shadows in their eyes lift slightly when they entered.
A soft tinkle sounded and Phil looked up to see the door open. When there was no one in sight at eye level, Phil grinned and directed his gaze downwards. Sure enough, there was a sandy dog nosing his way into the shop and padding over to Phil eagerly.
"You know you shouldn't keep wandering off from whoever's looking after you and coming in here," Phil chided. Lucky—Phil had checked the tag on his collar when the dog had first arrived—merely wagged his tail and sat down, waiting for Phil to give in.
Phil didn't even try to hold out, he knew that Lucky would get what he wanted eventually. Either by Phil giving it to him, or the dog just being sneaky and grabbing it himself. With a stern look at Lucky, Phil turned around and picked out the special peanut butter cookie he had been developing when Lucky had first nosed his way in. Phil had lost quite a bit of peanut butter that day and had decided to make the cookie dog-friendly as well as human-friendly in case the dog returned.
Lucky's tail went supersonic when Phil turned back around with cookie in hand. As excited as he was, Lucky knew not to snap the treat away from Phil's hand—that would only result in Phil pulling it away faster than Lucky could grab it. With calm movements, Lucky accepted the cookie and happily trotted over to his designated area near the socialisation corner—the part where Phil had put up a sign saying that there was occasionally a dog there so be wary if you have allergies.
He plopped down next to one of Phil's regulars—Skye—and started munching away. Skye's hand drifted unconsciously across Lucky's hair as it always did when he sat with her, her eyes still focused on her laptop screen. Phil smiled; even if the dog was cheeky and probably shouldn't be ordering his own food, he was good for Skye. He just wished he knew who the dog always managed to escape from and return to.
The door tinkled again and a newcomer entered. The man was panting as he scanned the room, his eyes soon finding Lucky. As soon as he saw the dog happily devouring his treat and receiving pats, the man groaned.
"Of course you find the one café that doesn't mind a dog coming in. You really are lucky, aren't you?" the man muttered to himself, side-eyeing the dog as he made his way over to Phil. He jerked his hand in the direction of Lucky as he said to Phil, "I see Lucky's found you and decided he likes you, you don't mind?"
Phil shrugged. "Couldn't really send him home now, could I? There's no phone number or address on his collar."
The man rubbed his neck awkwardly. "I knew I was forgetting something. Not that Lucky really needs it, he knows this city almost better than me. I'm Clint, thanks for not kicking him out."
"Phil," Phil replied, shaking Clint's hand. "He's pretty well behaved now that I've drilled the ground rules into his head and he helps my customers. All I need to do is pay him in treats."
Clint glanced back over to Lucky and Skye, "Guess I can't deprive him of a job. At least now I know where he's been sneaking off to. Took me weeks of tracking and running after him, he's a sneaky bastard."
"On behalf of Lucky and my customers, I thank you. He's become a bit of a staple around here now. Don't know what we'd do without him."
Clint started as a thought came to him. "Hey, I should pay you for the treats you've been giving him. It's not like he's carrying around a wad of cash." He paused for a moment before adding, "Right?"
Phil laughed. "No, Lucky hasn't been giving me any money. But he's been working and I'm not missing out on much by giving him a few treats. It's worth it to see Skye actually smile, or Leo stop jittering. I get all sorts of people in here, and sometimes what they need is the companionship of an animal. If you don't mind, I'd like him to keep coming."
"Not like I could really stop him. He's a free dog, that one."
"Have a cookie," Phil offered, directing Clint to pick out what cookie he wanted before the other man went and fell into one of the beanbags. Lucky perked his head up when Clint passed but Clint signalled that the dog could stay where he was. Phil soon carried over Clint's coffee who smiled in thanks and sunk deeper into the beanbag, pulling out hearing aids as he relaxed and sipped the coffee. Phil slipped Lucky another treat as he passed on the way back to the counter—the dog deserved it and besides, Phil had Clint's permission now.