Clint was still floating in the afterglow when Phil tossed a wet washcloth on to his stomach and climbed back in to the bed next to him. Clint made a half-assed attempt at cleaning up, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. Phil laughed at his sluggish movements and took the cloth from his hand, wiping Clint down himself. Job done, he tossed the rag in the general direction of the laundry hamper and settled back down, resting his head on Clint's shoulder. Clint sighed happily and wrapped his arm around Phil's waist, pulled him close, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"So I've been thinking," Phil said, and Clint groaned quietly.
"Babe, do we have to do the pillow talk tonight?" he asked. "I just got fucked six ways from Sunday. I want to sleep."
"I'm trying to talk to you about something important," Phil said. "I tried to say something when you first got home but you jumped me and now we're here and I have something to say. Now are you going to listen to me or not?"
"Okay," Clint answered bringing up his free hand to rub the sleep from his eyes. "Okay, sorry. Go ahead."
"We've been dating for almost a year now," Phil started, resting his hand on Clint's chest, twirling his finger in little patterns "And it's been good…" Clint immediately tensed up, not liking the way this was going.
"Don't do that," Phil sighed. "Don't tense up and get all paranoid. I'm not breaking up with you. Actually, it's kind of the opposite of that. I was thinking that maybe it's time you met Kate." That didn't do anything to make Clint's tension go away. If anything, it made it worse. Kate was Phil's daughter, and that was seriously a big step. A huge step. Clint wasn't sure if he could handle it. He knew, absolutely, that he wanted to be with Phil until the day Phil grew tired of him and sent him away. And he also knew that Kate and Phil were a package deal. But the idea of actually meeting her was daunting. He didn't know shit about children or about how to act like a good parent.
"I…uh…do you think that's really a good idea? I don't know how to talk to kids. I mean…what if I do something stupid?"
"She's six years old, Clint. She's not that hard to impress, I promise. I'd really like for you to meet her. You're both so important to me. You don't have to choose tonight. You can think on it. But I'd like for you to really consider it, okay?"
"Yeah," Clint sighed. "Yeah I'll think about it."
"Thank you," Phil said, rising up to press a kiss to Clint's mouth before leaning over to switch off the lamp and finally settling back down on Clint's chest.
"Good night," Phil said, and Clint hummed back at him in response.
Like hell he was going to be able to sleep now.
"We're getting dinner."
It was only years of training and being used to Natasha sneaking up on him that kept him from jumping out of his skin and accidentally firing his drawn arrow towards the ceiling. Instead, he refocused and released, sending the arrow straight into the center of his target, before dropping his stance and turning to Natasha.
"Hold on, I've got to empty this quiver…"
"We're going to dinner," Natasha said, and her tone brooked no argument.
"Okay," Clint said quickly. "Just let me put this away." Natasha didn't generally make demands for no reason, and he only had ten or so arrows left anyway. He'd rather not get all his practice in than make Natasha annoyed with him. He unstrung his bow and collapsed it, putting it in to his case and heading back to the armory so he could lock it up. Natasha followed at a sedate pace; as if she had all the time in the world and hadn't just demanded Clint go eat with her.
"Am I in trouble?" Clint asked as they made their way towards the cafeteria. Natasha cocked an eyebrow and sent him that unimpressed stare she was so good at.
"Are you five?" she asked. Clint valiantly resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her and resigned himself to the idea that Natasha would talk when she was good and ready. It was about three o' clock, so the line for food wasn't really all that long, and there was a pretty good selection. He made sure to grab an extra one of those lemon muffins that were arguably the best things the kitchen offered. Phil loved them, but always worked too long to get to the cafeteria before they were all gone.
They settled at a table and started eating, Natasha watching him with narrowed eyes. She was picking apart her own muffin with her fingers, not really fidgeting, but more like extremely precise. Like she was trying to make it look like she was fidgeting, in order to present herself as less calculating and fierce than she actually was. Clint had seen her put on the same sort of act on ops, being kind of ditzy and clumsy, and then going in for the kill before they even realized what hit them. The parallel made him nervous. She waited until he had a mouth full of spaghetti before she spoke.
"You're making Phil nervous by refusing to see his daughter. He's worried you're not as serious about the relationship as he is."
Clint almost choked. He had to remind himself to chew a few more times before swallowing, following it up with a drink of water.
"How the hell do you know this stuff?" he demanded. "Did you bug my quarters?" She shot him a look that clearly said he was an idiot for even having to ask. "And I haven't refused! I just haven't said yes yet. Has Phil been talking to you about this?"
"You're an idiot," Natasha told him. "Phil is stupidly in love with you. He wouldn't be asking you to meet his daughter otherwise. He's trying to take your relationship to the next level and you're hiding on the range and acting like a child."
"You know, for someone who doesn't believe in love, you seem pretty invested in my relationship with Phil," Clint shot back, chopping one of his meatballs up with the edge of his fork and then stabbing a chunk viciously. He gave Natasha a 'so there' look as he popped the piece in his mouth and chewed.
"Well, you're constantly seeking me out and whining about this and that, so clearly I need to be prepared. And I'm only telling you this to help you, you dick. When Phil dumps your sorry ass, don't come whining to me."
His food was suddenly tasteless in his mouth, and he swallowed quickly, lunging across the table to catch Natasha's arm as she started to stand up. "Do you think he's gonna?" Clint asked quietly, stomach suddenly sick with anxiety.
Natasha stared at the place where his hand met her arm and then sent him a dark look that had him immediately releasing her for fear of losing his fingers. She settled back down in her seat, resuming picking at her muffin, before she shrugged.
"Maybe not right away, but soon enough," she said. "I know you really don't have any experience with this, but most people really love their children and think they are more important than anything." Clint flinched at that, and only didn't get angry because this was Natasha, and if anyone had had a worse childhood than he had, it was her. "If you don't want to meet her, then he'll have to choose between the two of you. And he'll pick her without a second thought."
Clint knew that made sense. That's how parents were supposed to be. But the selfish part of him, the part of him that reminded him that no one had ever wanted or loved him, wanted to rage against the idea. The selfish part insisted that someone was supposed to love him best. Phil was supposed to be the one good thing in his life. He was supposed to be the one who just loved Clint, no matter what he could or couldn't give him.
Clint knew that selfish part was completely irrational, and that he'd never ever wish neglectful or abusive parents on anyone, but he couldn't help but feel like it wasn't fair. He honestly didn't have anything against Phil's daughter. He'd never met her, and she was six years old, for Christ's sake. He was just worried.
"What if she hates me?" he asked. "If she doesn't want me around, I'll lose Phil."
"If you don't give it a try you're going to lose him anyway," Natasha said.
Clint nodded and pushed his tray away, no longer hungry. He knew Natasha was right. No matter his misgivings, he wasn't going to give Phil up without a fight. If he ended up getting dumped because Kate hated him, it was better that he'd tried than just sat idly by and waited for it. He wrapped the muffin he'd snagged for Phil in a napkin and stood up.
"I'm gonna go talk to him," he said, gesturing awkwardly upward. "Thanks, Nat."
"You owe me drinks the next time we go out," she called after his retreating back, and he waved a hand over his shoulder to indicate that he'd heard her. He had to talk to Phil before he got stuck in his own brain again.
Phil's office door was open when he arrived, but no one else was there, just Phil, seated at his desk reading something intently on his computer screen. Clint just watched him for a second, reminding himself how much he loved the man.
"Hey, can we talk?" Clint asked. "I brought you a muffin."
"I accept this offering," Phil told him, sending him that slightly crooked smile that made Clint want to climb all over him. He turned away from his computer, leaning back in his chair to look at Clint properly.
"I uh…on the couch, maybe?" Clint said as he shut the door behind him. It felt wrong to discuss something like this with Phil's desk between them. Phil nodded and they moved to the couch, Clint handing off the muffin and allow Phil to settle in against his side, moving his arm to the back of the couch so that he could fit better. He seemed content to let Clint take his time with the actual talking, focusing on eating his muffin with extreme care in order to avoid getting any crumbs on his suit.
"I'd like to meet Kate," Clint said in a rush, proud of himself for actually managing to get it out. "I know it's been a few days since you brought it up, but I've kind of been building it up to apocalyptic proportions in my head. Natasha straightened me out. I love you, and I want to be a part of your life. And Kate is a part of your life, so I should meet her."
"Okay," Phil agreed, completely cool and calm, as if Clint hadn't just said something he'd spent days agonizing over. "She's visiting this weekend, so I'm off. How's Saturday?"
"Uh. Yeah, Saturday's fine," Clint answered, a little thrown by Phil's nonchalance.
"Great," Phil answered. "I've actually got a meeting with Nick in five minutes, so I've got to get going. Do you want to stay at my place tonight? I thought we might try that new Mexican place after work?"
"Uh, yeah," Clint answered, "Sounds good."
"Good," Phil answered, kissing him quickly on the mouth before standing up. "Meet me here at six thirty, then?"
"You got it," Clint answered, perplexed, watching as Phil left the room. He stayed seated on the couch for a full five minutes, trying to figure out if he'd missed something, before deciding that a run sounded like a great idea. Maybe his insecurities wouldn't be able to keep up with him.
By the time Saturday rolled around Clint had almost driven himself crazy with second-guessing his decision and halfway convincing himself that Kate was going to hate him and Phil wouldn't want to have anything to do with him anymore. They hadn't spent the night together for the first time in a few months because Phil thought Kate would be uncomfortable with it. Clint hadn't slept very well, and eventually had snuck in to Natasha's bed so that he wouldn't be completely dead on his feet.
He stood outside of Phil's door for a few minutes, trying to psych himself up and not run away. He'd faced down all sorts of dangers in his life without a second thought, and now he was contemplating running away from a six year old girl. He had to be braver than that. Natasha would never let him live it down. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door before he could talk himself out of it.
It was only a few seconds before the door swung open, accompanied by Phil's voice, sounding the same that it did when Clint had done something against regs. It was stern, yet fondly exasperated.
"Kate, did you check to see who it was before you opened the door?" The door promptly shut right in his face, and he heard Kate call, "Nooo." There was a long pause before she spoke again.
"Who is it?" she asked.
"Uh…Clint Barton," he said, wondering if this was some weird test.
"Are you a stranger, Clint Barton?" she asked.
"Um. No?" he responded.
"Daddy, he says he's not a stranger!" Kate called. "Can I open it?" Phil must have made some sort of affirmative because the door opened again and a little girl with dark hair and Phil's smile stood there. She looked so much like him, and Clint immediately found himself warming to her. She was a part of Phil, how could he not?
"Sorry about that," Phil said. "She has a bad habit of opening the door without checking. We're trying to break her of it."
"Oh. Um, no problem. Not the first time I've had doors shut in my face." He stepped into Phil's apartment awkwardly, pushing the door closed behind him, trying to figure out what he should say. As it turned out, he didn't have to, because Kate took initiative all by herself.
"You're my daddy's boyfriend," she said to him, more like a statement than a question.
"Uh, yeah," Clint answered. "I'm Clint."
"Are you gonna be my stepdaddy? Johnny Wilson in my class, he says that he has a stepdaddy because a new guy married his mommy. Are you gonna marry my daddy?"
"Oh. Uh. I don't…" Clint looked at Phil imploringly, but the bastard was just grinning and watching. "I don't know. Not right now," he finally answered. Luckily, Kate seemed to accept this and nodded pensively.
"Are you coming to the zoo with us?" she asked.
"Kate, I told you that Clint was coming to the zoo with us. What's with the third degree?" Kate shrugged, not looking away from Clint but wrapping one of her arms around Phil's leg.
"You said to be nice," Kate said. "I'm talking to him."
"You're grilling him," Phil corrected. "Go get your coat, okay?" Kate huffed but headed off down the hallway. Phil watched her go fondly before turning back to Clint.
"Sorry about that. She's excited and interested, but she's just like her mother and wants to know everything about someone the second she meets them. You doing all right? You look like you're ready to bolt."
"Yeah. I'm all right. A little overwhelmed. But she's just a kid. Your kid. She can't be too bad, right?"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Phil snorted, stepping in to Clint's space so they could share a hello kiss. Clint wrapped his arms around Phil's waist, pulling him closer, which made Phil laugh into his mouth and then kiss him again.
"Ugh," Kate announced as she came back in to the room. "Daddy you said you wouldn't kiss."
"I'm sorry, Kate, but you weren't in the room," Phil responded, not sounding very sorry at all.
"I'm in the room now," Kate told him, and Phil nodded.
"Very sorry, Katie. Won't happen again," Clint tried. Phil made an abortive motion towards him as Kate whipped her head towards him, eyes narrowing.
"My name is Kate," she told him icily, and Clint felt his heart sink. He'd already fucked it up. It would be better if he just kept his god damn mouth shut.
"Right, sorry," he offered, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. Things went awkwardly silent for about a minute before Phil cleared his throat and reached for his own coat hanging on the rack by the door. Clint stepped out of his way, studiously avoiding looking at Kate. Seriously, how was he managing to be so intimidated by a six year old?
"Shall we go, then?" Phil asked, to which Kate responded enthusiastically and Clint nodded. He'd already fucked up, but maybe it wasn't too late to fix it.
They actually spent half an hour staring at the penguins. It hadn't taken long for Kate to warm up to him again after the name thing, and Clint found himself trying really hard to make her laugh, because her giggles were like concentrated sunshine. They made Phil's face light up too, and Clint honestly couldn't even describe what he felt when he saw that.
"What animal do you want to see, Clint?" Kate asked, pulling Phil by the hand to try and force him to speed up. He still couldn't stop being surprised every time she addressed him directly, but his recovery time was getting faster.
"I want to see the lions," Clint told her, naming the first animal that came to mind. Honestly, he didn't really care if he saw lions or not, but Kate wanted an answer and he didn't see a reason to disappoint her by being boring.
"Lions! Daddy, lions!" Kate demanded, tugging harder on his hand and choosing a pathway.
"Kate, don't you think we should find a map instead of wandering around aimlessly?"
"But Clint wants to see the lions!" Kate insisted, looking at Phil imploringly.
"I know he does," Phil answered. "But we'll find them faster if we look at the map." Kate looked pretty dubious about this idea, but finally she agreed. Sure enough, the map gave them a direct path to the lions (opposite the direction that Kate had tried to drag them), but halfway there they came across a little jungle-themed barbecue restaurant, and Kate drew to a complete abrupt stop, almost making Phil trip right over her.
"Daddy, I'm hungry," she told him seriously. Clint's stomach growled in agreement. The smell of barbecue wafting out the door was almost enough to make him start giving Phil the very same puppy eyes that Kate was.
"I thought we were going to see the lions?" Phil asked. "It was extremely important a few minutes ago."
"But I'm hungry. We can go after! Right Clint?" Kate asked, turning the puppy eyes on him.
"I am pretty hungry, babe," Clint admitted, glancing at Phil, and Kate clapped her hands happily. Phil raised an eyebrow at him, like he was trying to figure out if Clint really was hungry or just saying so to win Kate's approval, but finally nodded.
The waitress looked to be a little younger than Clint, twenty-two or so, and she had a bright smile and was wearing a hat that looked like a triceratops. Her name was Brittany, and she talked enthusiastically with Kate about all the animals at the zoo, agreeing that the penguins were the best, and Kate seemed completely enamored. Every time she came by the table, Kate had more information to share with her, revealing that her favorite book was the Princess Bride because her daddy always read it to her before bed when she stayed at his house, that she was the best speller in her class, her mother was a really important business lady, Clint was her daddy's boyfriend (which Clint figured was pretty obvious, from the way they were sitting so close their shoulders pressed together) and when she got home she was going to watch Kim Possible because it was her favorite show. Kate seemed affronted when she admitted she'd never heard of Kim Possible and explained it was about a girl who went on missions all over the world to save people and fight bad guys. Clint had a really hard time not laughing out loud, instead choosing to exchange an amused look with Phil.
When their food finally came, Kate giggled when Clint ripped his chicken apart with his fingers instead of using his fork, which actually made him feel pretty stupid and every bit the uncultured carnie kid he was, until Phil grabbed his wrist and ate the next bite right from his fingers. That earned him a barbecue sauce-sticky kiss, despite Kate's overly exaggerated gagging, and their food disappeared from the plates pretty quickly after that.
As Phil was paying the bill, including a rather large tip for the Brittany-the-Waitress who'd been so nice to Kate, Clint ducked out to wash his hands and caught a glimpse of the little gift shop across the way. He glanced back at their table and saw Phil wetting a napkin and cleaning the barbecue sauce from a fidgeting Kate's face and decided he had time. He slipped into the shop, feeling a bit ridiculous as he glanced around, but it only took a few moments to find the perfect thing. There was a large display of stuffed penguins in every color imaginable by the far window. He grabbed one (purple, because why not. He liked purple, and most little girls did too) and paid for it quickly, heading back out of the shop and towards the restaurant as Kate and Phil emerged, the latter looking around for him with a slight frown on his face.
Clint approached them again, the toy held slightly behind his back, feeling dumber and dumber the closer he got. He didn't really know how to present it to her, if it required any sort of explanation, so he just kind of awkwardly held it out to her and waited without a word. Her eyes got big and her hands twitched, but she didn't take it. She looked up at him, squinting against the sun, and said, "For me?"
"Well…yeah," Clint said, not sure if she was happy about it or not. "If you don't like it…" He didn't get to finish the thought, because Kate had snatched the toy from his hand and was hugging it to her chest.
"Purple is my favorite color!" she told him happily, pressing a kiss to the top of the toy's head.
"What do you say, Kate?" Phil prodded gently, and she squeezed the toy tighter and chirped, "Thank you, Clint!" before skipping back towards the front of the restaurant, where Brittany was wiping down a table, presumably to show off her new toy.
"Are you trying to buy my daughter's affection, Clint Barton?" Phil asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Clint panicked slightly, wondering if he'd managed to screw up again, when Phil cracked a smile. "That was really nice of you. Thank you, I know you're trying really hard."
"Yeah," Clint admitted, feeling a rush of relief. "I'm kind of floundering over here, really."
"You're doing fine," Phil assured him. "She likes you." Clint was a little bit dubious about that, still remembering the icy glare he'd received for calling her Katie, but when Phil called her back over, she went immediately to Clint and stuck her arms up, one hand still clutching the penguin. Clint looked at her for a second, and she looked back at him before saying, a bit impatiently, "Put me up on your shoulders!"
"Kate, don't be rude," Phil admonished, while simultaneously giving Clint a 'told you so' face. "Sorry," Kate said, "Please?" and Clint obediently crouched down to let Kate clamber up on his back. When he stood back up, he reached over his shoulders, grabbed her under the arms, and lifted her the rest of the way up so her legs were on either side of his neck and her stomach was resting against the back of his head. There probably was an easier way of doing that, but it worked, so Clint didn't think about it too much. He didn't really have the time to, since the penguin was pushed up against the side of his face and partially obscuring his vision, and he was focusing on not walking in to anything.
The lions were actually really cool, giant powerful beasts with a wicked roar, but seeing them was nothing compared to the way he felt with Kate on his shoulders, clutching at his t-shirt, and Phil with his hand on the small of Clint's back, thumb stroking every once in a while. It felt like home and family, something Clint had never really had with anyone before, and he really liked it. After seeing the lions, Phil decided that it was time to be getting back so that Kate could have a nap, and Clint knew he should be heading back to his own place, to give them some time together before Kate had to go back with her mother the next day.
As they were saying their good-byes, Kate tugged on the hem of his shirt until he kneeled down so that she could throw her arms around his neck (the damned penguin coming around and whacking him in the face again) and squeeze him tightly. "You can call me Katie," she told him. "But just you. You're special." If Clint had to bury his face in her hair for a few extra seconds so he could regain his composure, no one had to know. Phil ushered Kate into a cab, and then pulled Clint to him for a kiss that said more than words ever could. Clint wanted to melt in to him, but he knew it really wasn't the time.
"I'll call you after Kate leaves tomorrow, and you can spend the night. I miss waking up with you already," Phil told him in a low voice before sliding in to the cab after his daughter. Clint waved them off, and as he made his way to the nearest subway entrance, he really could picture himself as a part of their family. And it was awesome.