Father and Child

by theicemenace

Just what the title says. Clint and his child over the years.

A/N:2012 winner of NaNoWriMo contest and exclusively Beta'd by the wonderful ladygris.

Tapadh leat,

~Sandy

Avengers

Father and Child

October 12th

Two years and eight months after marrying Naomi, Clint found himself on the roof a building across from the Imperial Hotel in Glasgow, Scotland, his weapon trained on a room across and down two floors. His partner's job was to lure their target, pump him for information, and once he'd given her what she wanted, Clint would take him out.

His job was to watch and listen for the codes and gauge his responses accordingly. She would open the sliding door halfway if the man was talking. And if he refused her, she'd get him out onto the patio on some pretext where Clint would take over. Unexpectedly, a voice sounded in his ear.

"Hill to Barton."

Clint tapped his comm, his stress level immediately going up though he was still as steady as a rock. "Barton. What the hell are you doing, Hill? We're supposed to be on radio silence!"

"Director Fury sent me to get you. I'll be at the rendezvous point in ten minutes."

"I'm on a mission here. I just can't…" His annoyance turned to intense aggravation when Hill interrupted him.

"Your wife's in labor."

His mind went into a mode that resembled panic. "But she's not due for 3 weeks. ****!" He tapped the comm, adding in another line to his partner. "Barton to Romanoff."

"Go ahead."

"We need to move up the timeframe."

Her anger at him for breaking radio silence came through loud and clear to someone who knew her as well as he did, though anyone standing near her would only know that she was talking on a Bluetooth. She switched over to Czech. "Yakovlev has taken the bait. You're jeopardizing the mission by breaking protocol."

"Naomi's in labor. Hill's picking me up." While Clint talked, he'd been disassembling his sniper rifle and packing in away.

"Go. I've got this."

He zipped up the front of his jacket and swung the duffle bag over his head, settling it on his left shoulder. "You sure?"

"Yeah. It'll be fun."

Snickering, Clint mused that it probably would be fun for her, but not so much for Yakovlev. His humor turned to irritation again. Going to the ladder, he climbed over the parapet and down to the fire escape. He reached the bottom in record time and instead of lowering the ladder that would take him the rest of the way to street level. Instead, he climbed over the side, hung from his hands and dropped to the ground landing in a crouch.

A quick check that he wasn't being watched or followed then he sprinted down the alley, turned left and broke into a flat out run until he reached North Street. He took that to Victoria Bridge, crossed the waterway, ran another mile and ducked into the safe house, a warehouse that appeared to be abandoned. After stowing his weapon in the secret compartment in one of the offices, he darted back out to the parking lot in time to see Hill coming in for a landing.

"Just in time." Hill greeted him as he slapped the control that closed the hatch and came forward to lean on the back of her seat. Davis was next to her playing the part of the co-pilot and wisely didn't comment. "We'll be there in a couple hours so try to stay calm."

"Stay calm? My wife is about to give birth and I'm more than three thousand miles away."

Hill knew Clint and wasn't fazed by his sharp tone or the expletives he muttered under his breath. "If this were a commercial flight, you wouldn't get there until late tomorrow, so take a deep breath and have a seat. Take a nap if you want. We'll let you know when we're about to land."

Clint called her a name in Czech that made her snicker, but she didn't comment as he finally stopped looming and went into the back to pace.

~~O~~

Exhausted, but in a good way, Naomi sat in the hospital bed watching Fury hold the baby while Gina sat on the arm of his chair. All three looked up at the commotion in the hall.

The nurse's voice was loud in the relative tranquility of the hospital room. "But, sir, you have to check in at the desk, scrub and put on a gown."

Naomi smiled happily when Clint said, "No! I have to see my wife and child!" The door burst open and her husband lurched into the room looking and sounding as if he'd run miles when he'd only come from the helipad on the roof. He stumbled to a stop, his eyes darting from Naomi to Fury to Gina and back, his shoulders slumping. "Crap! I missed it!"

The nurse was still there, a hand grasping his arm. "Please, Agent Barton, you have to scrub and put on a gown before handling the baby."

Still ignoring the woman, Clint came slowly forward to peer into the face of the tiny bundle in his father-in-law's arms seeing the pink blanket and grinning idiotically. The awe in his voice made Naomi tear up. "A girl. We have a daughter. Uh, you're both okay, right?"

Naomi nodded. "Yes, we're both perfect."

Sagging in relief, Clint allowed the nurse to pull him from the room. He was back in fifteen minutes having showered and changed into scrubs after his long flight from Scotland. The cap over his hair had wet spots showing it was still damp.

Fury got to his feet. "Ready to hold your daughter, Clint?"

"Yes." His eyes very wide, Clint accepted the small, blanket wrapped bundle. "Shouldn't I be sitting or something?"

Grinning as only a new grandmother will, Gina prodded Fury from his seat so Clint could have it. "Only if you want to."

The look of wonder in her husband's eyes was so adorable she couldn't help smiling. The tears started again when he reverently whispered, "She's beautiful. Just like her mother."

One small hand found its way out of the blanket coming to rest on her cheek with just the middle finger extended. Clint scowled at Fury's chuckle and remark.

"Flipping us off already. Definitely her father's daughter."

Two Months Later

Clint walked back and forth in the nursery trying to get Hannah to stop crying. He'd fed and burped her, changed her diaper and her clothes. She didn't have a fever and nothing seemed to be pinching or poking her, but still she cried. At one point, he put her down to see if she'd just go to sleep, but she only cried louder. He cuddled her against his chest to let her feel his heartbeat then over his shoulder so he could rub her back and still she cried.

In desperation, he called Natasha, relieved when she answered on the first ring. If she hadn't that would've meant she was out of the country on a mission, most likely with her husband, Steve as her back-up. "Nat! Get over here! I need your help."

"What? I can barely hear you! Is that Hannah crying?"

"Yes! Nothing I've done has worked."

She sighed into the phone. "Why're you calling me? I know nothing about babies."

Groaning, he shifted Hannah from his right shoulder to his left. "I need back-up now!"

"But…"

Injecting a note of pleading, he persisted. "Please! I told Naomi I could handle her alone, but I'm dyin' here."

In the background, Clint heard Steve's voice. "What's going on?"

"Naomi left Clint alone with Hannah and he's in a panic. Wants us to come help."

Clint's relief was profound at hearing Steve say, "Let's go! We haven't seen the baby in a while."

With a huff of frustration, Nat said, "We'll be there soon. Stay calm."

Twenty minutes later Clint was staring wide-eyed as his daughter slept in Steve's arms. She'd stopped crying almost immediately after the transfer. "What did you do?"

Smiling down at the sweet face, he just stood there swaying side to side. One shoulder twitched in a small shrug. "Mom said I have the touch. Babies just seem to like me."

Clint gestured and Steve and Natasha followed him to the first floor nursery where the super-soldier gently lay the little girl in her bed. The three adults held their breath, but she stayed asleep. Nodding toward the door, Clint urged them out of the room, picked up the baby monitor and closed the door. In the kitchen, he poured his friends each a cup of coffee then joined them at the table.

Steve sipped from his cup, his eyes on Natasha who just stared out the window. "Nat and I are thinking of having a baby."

"How? I thought…"

"There's new medical technology that will let us combine our DNA and grow a baby in this tank thing." His hands about two feet apart indicated the approximate size. "The child will grow in synthetic amniotic fluid and when he or she is mature, we have a brand new baby of our own."

Clint's brows drew together over his nose trying to get a handle on the technology. "A womb with a view."

Natasha punched Clint on the shoulder. "Not funny, Barton. And we haven't decided yet. We're just thinking about it."

"Nat, pregnancy isn't just about the 'construction' of the baby, for lack of a better term. There's the bonding time between mother and child, and father and child as well. That's something to take into account when making that decision too. With adoption, when its right, you just know." Watching his partner's face, he wasn't able to tell what she was thinking for one of the few times since they'd met. "Anyway, I think you'd make great parents." Natasha's head snapped up and now there was panic in her eyes, but before he could pursue it further, he heard a key in the front door announcing the return of his wife and her mother. "Crap! You guys need to leave! Quick before she sees you!"

Steve was confused by the order, but Natasha understood. She grabbed Steve's hand and dragged him away. "We'll go out the back."

The baby monitor crackled, Naomi and Gina's whispered voices barely registering as they checked on the sleeping child. Clint quickly stuck the dirty coffee cups into the dishwasher and plopped back into his chair just as his wife and mother-in-law joined him. "Welcome back. How'd it go?" He stood to kiss Gina's cheek and Naomi's lips before pouring them each a cup of coffee.

Gina smiled. "Great. Hair, hands, feet."

Sitting next to her husband, Naomi sipped her coffee, one eye on the monitor in the middle of the table. Hannah cooed in her sleep then quieted. "No problems?"

"Nope." Clint waved a hand slowly through the air. "Went right to sleep after her bottle."

"Good." Naomi contemplated that for a moment while Clint went to the coffee pot for a refill. He almost dropped the pot when she asked, "Where are Steve and Natasha?"

Clearing his throat, he kept his voice steady, or so he thought. "What makes you think they were here?"

"Because I saw Nat's car parked up the street."

His shoulders slumped. "I really thought I could handle her alone. I'm her father. But she just wouldn't stop crying and I didn't want you to know so Nat and Steve…"

Naomi came up behind him, her arms slipping around his waist, her cheek against his back. "It'll get easier. I promise. It's just…" she cut off before giving voice to her true thoughts, but he didn't need to hear them to know what she was going to say. That he was away more than at home so much that his daughter barely knew him. And she was right.

Setting his cup in the sink without refilling it, he made a decision. "I'm going out for a while." He kissed Naomi again then went out the back door to the enormous shed in the back. Opening the doors, he jumped into the pilot's seat of the helijet housed there, ran through the check list in record time and took off.

When he reached the helicarrier, he requested and was granted clearance to land. To the OOD, he said, "Have it refueled. I'm only gonna be here a few minutes."

"Yes, sir."

Striding purposefully onto the bridge, Clint came to parade rest, feet planted shoulder width apart, a look his face that had intimidated many a junior officer and even a few of the senior ones. "Director Fury, I need to speak to you in private, sir."

The director turned, both eyes looking Clint over as if he were a bug under a microscope. Even two years after receiving a transplant, it was still strange seeing him without the eye patch. "Of course, Agent Barton."

Clint darted into the office ahead of his father-in-law. Fury stopped just inside the door to watch Clint pace back and forth, rubbing the back of his head with one hand and the other shoved deep into his pants pocket. "I can't do this anymore."

"Can't do what?"

Stopping in the middle of the room, he waved his arm dramatically. "This! Everything! I'm gone more than I'm home. My child barely knows me." One hand on his hip and the other rubbing his forehead, he took a deep breath to calm down. "I couldn't get her to stop crying today."

He didn't know any other life except for SHIELD and the circus, and right at this moment, neither appealed to him. All he knew was that he didn't want to turn around one day to find that his daughter had grown up and he'd missed it all.

"It happens to all new parents at one time or another."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

Fury pushed off the wall he'd been lounging against. "So what do you want to do about it?"

Reaching into his back pocket, Clint took out his badge, the same one he'd been carrying for more than fifteen years. All that had changed was the photograph. From his front pocket, he took out his SHIELD issued phone, laying them side by side on the desk. "I quit."

"What about the Avengers?"

"Them too. A clean break."

Without another word, Clint walked around Fury and out onto the bridge. Hill was on maternity leave as was her husband, Ryan Kripke. Standing in Hill's usual place was Trevor Alston. Once his injuries had healed after being shot by Troy Bishop AKA Dietrich, Fury offered him Coulson's job. Part of that position was filling in for the senior bridge officers when they were out.

Clint didn't say a word and neither did Alston. They simply shook hands, nodded and Clint turned and walked left without a backward glance.

Six Months Later

After quitting SHIELD, Clint started his own business providing security for high-profile clients at home and overseas. Every job he negotiated, Hannah went with him and every weekend, the family spent at least one of those days together, just the three of them. Most nights, Clint did the cooking though Naomi did her share as well. Life was good for the Barton family.

Hannah was sleeping in her playpen in the corner of Clint's home office when his cell phone buzzed across the desk. The number displayed was familiar though he hadn't gotten a call from it since the day he'd resigned. At first he just let it go to voice mail, but it kept buzzing so he picked it up. Not in the mood to be cordial, his tone came out sharp and angry. "What?"

"Agent Barton, I have Director Fury for you. Please hold." The female voice was unfamiliar to Clint as he waited for Fury to come on the line. He supposed there had been many changes in the last six months.

Not bothering with small talk, Fury jumped right into the reason for calling. "Agent Barton, there's a situation. We need you to come in."

"I'm not an agent anymore, Nick. Get someone else." His thumb over the end key hesitated when Fury played his trump card.

"Romanoff and Rogers have been taken."

Clint hooked a Bluetooth over his left ear, leapt out of his seat and began stuffing items into Hannah's diaper bag. "Give it to me."

"About fourteen days ago, Romanoff felt she was being followed. We covered surveillance in every way possible, but nothing and no one was ever found. Then, on the third day of their mission to Shakhtinsk, Kazakhstan, they missed a scheduled check-in. They haven't been seen in or around the safe house starting two hours prior."

Swearing under his breath, Clint picked Hannah up and carried her to the car, quickly and efficiently strapping her into the car seat in the back. "Who's taking credit?"

Fury's frustration came through the phone as a loud exhale. "You won't believe this."

"Just tell me."

There was another paused telling Clint that the news wasn't good. "Ivan Petrovitch."

"Damn!" Clint slapped the steering wheel then glanced into the back seat to make sure he hadn't awakened Hannah. Thankfully the little girl was still sleeping. "She told us he was dead."

With black humor, Fury said, "Reports of his death have been greatly exaggerated, apparently." The older man laughed when Clint uttered a string of expletives in several of the more colorful languages he knew. "I agree."

"So the *******'s still alive. He's gotta be in his seventies."

"Eighty-two, and what disturbs me almost as much as two of our best operatives being taken is that we've heard nothing from him since the early nineties when he tried to restart the Red Room Project with a new class of students."

Cranking the wheel left and right, Clint's foot came down hard on the accelerator as he shifted gears. Naomi would not be happy that he'd abused her beloved BMW M5 in this way, but it couldn't be helped. "And SHIELD put the kibosh on that. So you think he's at it again?"

"It's possible." Fury dropped the bantering. "I assume you're taking Hannah to her grandmother's."

"Almost there."

Fury consulted with someone then came back on. "Your ride's on the way. ETA four minutes."

"Roger that." Clint skidded to a stop in front of Gina's house just as a quinjet came in for a landing in the middle of the street.

"And Clint?"

The archer jumped out of the car and reached into the backseat for his daughter as Gina came out the front door. "Yeah?"

"Welcome back."

Seventeen Years Later

One last look in the mirror and Hannah was ready for the prom. Her date would be here soon and her wildest dream was that her father and younger brother would behave once they saw who it was.

Hannah could've graduated from high school at sixteen, but she hadn't wanted to leave her friends. And then there was the age difference between her and the other college students. She wanted to be a part of them, not a gawky teenage girl barely old enough to drive who didn't fit in.

The doorbell rang as she slipped into the heels that matched her gown. Her mother's voice floated up the stairs as she picked up her wrap and small clutch on the way out the door.

Nervous, she stood at the top of the stairs, took a deep breath, calming her mind. Just as dad had taught her. With a smile of welcome, she descended the stairs to greet her date.

~~O~~

Not able to help himself, Clint paced the floor of the sitting room waiting for his daughter to come downstairs dressed for her senior prom. His son was immersed in a VR game with a group of friends. Clint wanted the family to remember this night so he tapped the boy on the shoulder.

"Shut it down, Phillip."

"Oh, man! Why do I have to watch Hanny be all dressed up? I see that all the time." The boy was fourteen with dark brown hair like his mother and Clint's blue-gray eyes. And though he grumbled and complained as only a teenager could, he loved his sister.

Getting in Phillip's face, Clint said, "Because I said so. That's why."

"Fine!"

The doorbell rang and Clint rushed to answer it before Naomi did. Hannah hadn't told them who her date was and Clint wanted to look him over before he let his eldest child leave with a stranger. But the young man at the door wasn't a stranger. Not by a long shot, and he knew how to make a number of those in a very short time. Something he was considering now that he'd seen his daughter's date.

The look on Clint's face must've betrayed his disbelief because the young man took a step back, his hand holding tight to a plastic container with a perfect white orchid corsage. "Sir! Good evening. How are you?"

Giving Tony Stark, Jr. a long once-over, Clint replied with a warning growl, "Proficient with firearms and not afraid to use them."

Although Tony Jr. had known the Barton family all his life, he still seemed to find Clint more than a little intimidating and that was just fine with Clint. Naomi came into the entry hall with a bright smile for the boy.

"Clint, stop scaring the boy." To Tony, she said, "You look very handsome tonight, sweetie."

"Thanks, Aunt Naomi."

The annoyance Phillip had shown vanished when he saw his best friend. "Hey, Tony! Wait! You're dating my sister? How gross is that!" He made gagging noises, grabbed his throat and collapsed to the floor, pretending to be dead until Naomi chastised him.

"Phillip Francis Barton!"

Leaping to his feet, Phillip turned toward the stairs with the rest of them when footsteps signaled Hannah's approach.

Clint looked up and in that moment, he suddenly realized that his little girl wasn't a baby any more. While he'd been working and taking care of his family, he'd been there as much as possible and had seen the signs. But it just now hit him that she was on the verge of becoming a woman. She would always be his little girl, even after she had kids of her own, but now his stomach clenched as it was brought home to him, in an almost brutal fashion, that that day was closer than he thought. Now, in fact.

The dress she wore was midnight blue, strapless and ruffled from mid-thigh to the floor with matching wrap, shoes and purse. Her long dark blond hair, in an elegant up-do, reminded him of his mother though she had Naomi's brown eyes. Before he could say a word, Phillip beat him to it.

"Wow, sis. You look great."

Tony smiled. "He's right, Han."

When Hannah reached the last step, she waited patiently for Clint to say something. He smiled in that way reserved for those he loved most dearly. "You're beautiful, honey. Just like your mom."

He kissed her on the cheek while Naomi took photos. "Thanks, Dad." She stood next to Tony and the boy put his arm around Hannah's waist, but not in a way that seemed overly familiar. It was more like he'd never done it before and wasn't entirely sure he should. If Clint had his way, no boy or man would ever touch his daughter, but he also knew that wasn't a viable option so he didn't dwell on it.

Naomi ended Clint's thoughts by taking his hand. "Have a good time, honey."

"Thanks, Mom. Bye."

And when the door closed, Clint had the strongest urge to follow them just to be sure that no one, and especially not the son of Tony Stark, laid a hand on Hannah. Naomi knew what he was thinking because she said, "Don't."

"Don't what?" He tried for innocence in his expression and tone, but his wife saw through him, just as she always did.

"You know what." Naomi took Clint's hand. "Let's play a game. It'll take your mind off of everything."

Snorting, Clint followed her into the sitting room. "Doubt it, but you're welcome to try."

~~O~~

Once Tony and Hannah were seated in the limo, the driver headed for the hotel where the prom was being held. Now that they were out of her parent's sight, Hannah and Tony went back to being just friends. "Thanks, Tone. I appreciate you doing this for me."

"No problem. Always happy to help out." The boy, he was more than a year younger than Hannah, checked his watch. "He should be there by now. I asked him to pick up Shanna on the way."

"When we get there, we'll have a picture taken together then we're both free for the night until it's time to go home. Deal?"

Tony stuck out his hand taking hers. "Deal."

At the hotel, the doorman handed her from the limo then Tony climbed out, taking her hand until they reached the door. Once inside, they had their picture taken and a moment later, their real dates approached from the direction of the punch bowl.

Shanna, a girl Tony's age and also a sophomore in college like him, smiled shyly as he took her hand and led her away.

With a smile, Hannah took the arm Clint Alston offered her. Only now he was going by the name CJ. Not that he didn't appreciate being named after a legend. It was to avoid confusion. "You look amazing, Hannah."

"You too, CJ. So what's first, eat or dance?" His smile, filled with the affection that went beyond mere friendship, made her stomach do a little flip.

"I want my arms around you now."

She returned his smile, going into his arms as they reached the dance floor. Later, they shared a table with Tony and Shanna, and when midnight came, Hannah kissed CJ, reluctant to be parted from him so soon.

They'd made plans for their future several weeks ago when they realized that their friendship, filled with trust and respect for one another, had turned into love. Their education was the top priority for both of them. That and keeping this aspect of their relationship from their parents for now. They knew Tony Jr. could be trusted to keep the secret. Waving to CJ one last time, Hannah got into the limo with Tony. As they pulled away from the curb, CJ lifted his hand in a wave.

Several Years Later

Clint stood in the chapel's vestibule with Hannah on his arm. The Wedding March played as he escorted his daughter to the altar and presented her to her husband-to-be, Clinton Isaac "CJ" Alston, so proud of her that he could barely contain it. He lifted her veil, kissed her cheek and took his seat next to Naomi in the front row. Leaning close, he said, "We did good, didn't we?"

"We most certainly did." She gave him a brief kiss. "I love you."

"And I love you."

The proud parents of Hannah Elaine Barton watched as their daughter married the man she loved and remembered their own wedding so many years ago. At this moment, Clint was happier than he'd been at any other time in his life.

End