09.10.2012

Clint sneaks into Stark Tower the day before all the Avengers, sans Bruce who already is living there, are supposed to move in. Well, sneaks in is kind of presumptuous since it turns out that no matter how many crazy ops Clint has done in his live, all across the globe, getting into the Tower unnoticed is impossible. Of course because of JARVIS. He really is omnipotent sometimes.

Clint doesn't bring his things yet, not that there are many: maybe two duffle bags. There is a lot of stuff in his room that he simply can't be bothered to take with himself, especially knowing Tony and his eagerness to provide everyone with everything.

The Avengers have been granted access to their own apartments and their common floor, as well as all the spaces below, including a gym, a swimming pool, R&D levels, offices… Basically everything besides Tony's workshop #2 in the basement, the workshop #1 below the penthouse and the last two floors, a living space for Tony himself. And Pepper, sometimes.

So the true reason of the sneaking into the main area is to see if Tony has the kitchen stocked. Sure, he could ask, but it's not as much fun to just plain ask, and he kind of needs to know the answer to make an assessment of big plans for tomorrow. And Clint is very meticulous when it comes to groceries if he plans to cook.

When he enters the kitchen, having greeted JARVIS – no more playing fool and pretending he doesn't know the A.I. is aware of his presence since the very beginning even if JARVIS seemed kind of amused, as much as a computer can be, at least – he sees a young woman sitting by the counter and flipping through an actual newspaper.

Clint freezes in the doorway, wondering who she might be; she doesn't look like one of Stark's usual conquests, too domestic and casual and relaxed, too – familiar with the space.

She looks up a moment later, frowning and smiling at the same time.

'Hello,' Clint is the first to speak. If she is here, than surely Stark knows and he's let her in, so it must be okay. 'I'm Clint, and you are?...'

'Flavie,' she replies with a thick French accent.

'I know we weren't supposed to be here today,' Clint continues, taking a few steps ahead and looking around the bright room, 'but I'm on a grocery run for tomorrow's big team dinner. I bet you are privy to all the info, since you are here?'

The woman nods, marking a page in the paper and closing it. Then she glances at the plastic watch on her wrist.

'Yes. I am French – of course dinner is important,' she replies with a smirk. Clint decides that whoever she is, he will like her from now on. 'Make sure to include some avocado and petits pois…'

'Peas,' Clint supplies with a smile.

'Peas,' she repeats nodding. 'Yes.'

'Any particular reason?'

'You will know,' she replies and winks at him, getting up from the table. Clint decides he loves her accent, but not as much as Natasha's Russian one when she doesn't play American. 'I need to go now – are you looking for Mister Stark? He will be back in fifteen minutes.'

'No, not really looking for him, though I guess if I am here now and you know it, this won't be as much of a surprise as I'd like, so well. I guess we could exchange a few sentences before he throws me out of the tower,' Clint laughs. He liked to play on Tony's nerves and Tony likes to indulge him into pretending he really cares.

'So you want to wait here or upstairs?...'

'No, no need, I'll just stay here, look around a bit, make a mental list of to-but things to mention to Tony this house is lacking to make him roll his eyes and give me his black AmEx…'

Flavie laughs easily and disappears a moment later with her magazine and Clint lets her go without further interrogation, knowing very that he could have asked and given her openness she would probably share what exactly she's doing in Tony's life, but Clint enjoys a nice mystery.

'JARVIS, should I really include avocado and peas into my amazing menu, or was she just being funny?' he asks the A.I. moving from cupboard to cupboard and examining the contents; of course it is all stocked, it was kind of silly to think otherwise, but Clint has already noticed two or three things of those he will need missing.

'That would be advisable, Agent.'

'I guess I can't know why?'

'That depends on Sir only,' JARVIS replies, but it sounds almost like he was stifling a smile. Only that A.I.s don't smile, now, do they?

'Well, I guess I will have to endure the suspense… is there cream of tartar somewhere?'

'No, there isn't.'

'Okay, add cream of tartar to the list…' Clint mumbles to himself, moving to the last cupboard.

'Why would you need cream of tartar?' A voice suddenly appears across the room; Clint doesn't jump, he's far too well-trained for that, but he turns around sharply, annoyed with himself for letting Tony sneak up on him like that.

'It's the best stabilizer for egg whites, genius. Weren't you supposed to be here like in a few minutes, according to your pretty lady?'

'Yeah, I guess, but there was less traffic than usually… And Flavie is not my girl, but whatever. She said you're planning to make us a grand dinner tomorrow. True?'

'There goes my secret – but yeah,' Clint admits, finishing looking though the stuff in the last cupboard and closing it. 'I hear there is a need of avocados and peas –'

'That golden girl, she always thinks ahead,' Tony murmurs making Clint frown a bit. Tony sighs. 'Yeah, I can predict your question now, why? And I guess I owe you an explanation, since you're gonna be on by head all the time now – come on.'

'Come on?' Clint repeats, opening a package of dried strawberries and tossing some into his mouth casually. Divine.

'The answer's upstairs,' Tony just says mysteriously and moves to the elevator so Clint follows obediently. He can say Stark is a bit… tense, it's in the posture. And he's got a serious face which is very much not typical, sooo…

It takes them a moment to get those few levels higher.

The answer, ironically enough, turns out to be a boy.

What. The. Hell?

Clint sighs and eyes Tony who has all-innocent look on his face. Clint shakes his head and sighs again; he guesses he should be more surprised than he is, but he just smiles at Stark – exactly because the man would expect him to ask questions and act curious. Hell, Clint is curious, but he has always preferred figuring things on his own, getting his own intel to asking for answers. Especially that the answer is probably painful. Or at least difficult, it always is.

The boy, maybe ten or eleven, Clint guesses, is sitting by the table, the cutlery placed neatly in front of him, and drums his fingers on the table in a clear rhythm. He doesn't look back when Tony and Clint emerge from the elevator, even though it makes a soft but distinctive noise. A moment after they step out, Flavie comes from somewhere – the kitchen? – holding a plate and a bowl in her hands.

'That's Evelyn – let's not disturb him now,' Tony says, gesturing at the sofa. Clint follows and sits on the back, resting his feet in shoes where his ass should be, but Tony doesn't mind at all.

Clint observes how the boy eats, how he arranges his food on the place and honestly, it takes him just a few moments to figure it out. If you have the right pieces, it's only a matter of time to put them together.

'Is he autistic?' he asks. Tony turns to look at him, blinking, and then frowns.

'Yeah –'

'He verbal?' Clint continues, looking away from Tony's surprised face to look at the boy.

'Yeah, but he's not a big fan of speaking –'

'Signs?'

'Yes, but how–' Tony starts again, irritated that he's not managing to ask his question. Clint flashes him a smile and replies to the unsaid words.

'I had a friend with HFA, back in the orphanage… You know how it must have ended. I've been playing the good guy and even my fucking brother laughed at me for hanging out with a weirdo. And then – Phil's niece. I met her a few times in my life only, but she is a great girl… I can put two and two together. And you know I do observation for a living.'

'Hell, Clint,' Tony breathes and pauses for a moment 'Yeah, I know. I guess – I don't need to make you any lectures? You're not shocked or something?'

'I'm surprised you don't have a dozen of illegitimate kids somewhere,' Clint jokes, sticking his tongue at Tony who looks a bit distraught. 'He likes avocado and peas?' Clint adds, watching the boy carefully pick carrot sticks one by one, dipping them in something, and eating. Exactly twelve chews each time, Clint can't help but notice.

'Yeah, loves everything green – wait, you like children?'

'Have I said that?' Clint's turn to be surprised.

'You're grinning like crazy,' Tony explains. Clint grins even wider. He loves it when people are confused. Makes you try to figure yourself out even more, makes their attention away from Clint's own confusion and feelings.

'He'll be a great buddy,' Clint states truthfully.

'How do you know that?'

'I read people for a living, remember? Primary objective, comes before killing aliens and stuff…'

'Yeah, sure,' Tony says skeptically, eying Clint in the special way only he does. The unique quirks are definitely one of the things that make everyone get charmed easily. 'So, you're just – okay with this?'

'Yup,' Clint agrees. At least he thinks so; of course each of the cases is different but he is not going to dismiss anyone based on a trait or disability or a problem. He's had a fair share of that in his life and call it justice or karma or whatever, but he doesn't plan to ever do something like that to anyone else because it fucking hurts. 'Just, is there anything else I have to know?'

'If you know the general stuff, I guess not really… He doesn't like to be touched a lot, though. You've got to earn his permission, otherwise he will be very upset and you don't want to see him very upset. Well, no state of upset is preferable, but I can manage the usual. Well, me or Flavie – she lives here. As you might have guessed by now. She makes sure I don't fuck up with his schedules what, I tell you, is a task that truly requires to be rewarded with a million dollars a month.'

Clint looks at Tony questioningly, looking for an answer if the man is joking or not – seriously, it wouldn't be beyond him – but it'd a bit crazy even for Tony.

'No, I don't pay her a million a month, Clint, I've done a lot of strange stuff – by the way, I offered. She refused.'

'What a humble girl…' Clint murmurs, but Tony doesn't raise the bait.

'Well, you know, I met her in France – it was by an accident. A few months after I've started to take care of Evelyn. We've gone through three nannies in that time and none of the worked well enough and I couldn't manage everything by myself, no matter how much I tried. Evelyn – it was a difficult time when he was younger. He was much less responsive. Didn't listen to me, threw tantrums, missed him mother like hell, not that it was surprising, but… I don't know. I just wanted him to be better and learn how to help him and nothing – no one – worked. He used to engage into self-injurious behavior and it hurt me so fucking much to see it… You know. Old stories,' Tony says with a sigh, shaking his head as if he wanted to make the memories go away. 'So, we met by accident, I will spare you the story, and I told her about Evelyn. I don't know why because back then only Pepper and Rhodey and his doctors knew, he didn't even go to school. She said she was training to take care of special needs children. Again, long story made short, she would do anything to leave the place where she was living. She said she would work for free if she could get away. So I promised her to take care of it, I made sure she could legally work in the USA and put her on kind of a probation – see if she and Evelyn could work – and it was like a miracle.'

'Wow,' Clint just says, even without the details he can imagine what the situation must have been like. He's been in a similar one before.

'I pay her ten grand but I would pay her a million if she accepted it.'

'I'm sure you would,' Clint admits. The sum should probably shock him, but it's Tony Stark, so it doesn't even seem that bountiful.

Clint doesn't look away from Evelyn though, taking in the tin details of the boy's physics and mentally cataloguing all that he is able to notice.

When the boy puts the last carrot stick into his mouth, Tony stands up.

'He has celery days or carrot days, you never know which one it is – he's done with the food now.'

Clint nods – make sense – and follows Tony. Evelyn turns around, hearing them; he acted as if he was oblivious of their presence while he was eating. Focusing on his set task. That's the kind of behavior that Clint is familiar with.

'Remember that time when we talked about my friends moving into the tower? This is the last one. Clint, Evelyn. Evelyn, Clint.'

The last one? Clint mouths, blinking, but Tony just offers him a crooked smile. The last one? As in everyone else somehow knew about this before and I didn't? Clint rolls his eyes mentally and makes a face at Tony.

He knew Natasha was hiding something – wow. Suddenly a lot of the tiny details he's been dismissing 'cause they were confusing and seemed pointless start to make sense.

Clint pushes away the thoughts for now though; he can think about all that later. He's got something else to take care of now; he crouches to be at the same height level as the boy – small for his age, Clint notes – and smiles. Evelyn doesn't meet his eyes, not really, but the boy is looking more or less into the direction of his face.

'Hello,' he signs. The boy moves his head sharply to stare at his hands. 'I am C-l-i-n-t. Nice to meet you.'

'E-v-e-l-y-n,' the boy spells out with his fingers.

Tony stares, Clint can feel the man's eyes on his back.

'Your dad said you don't like talking. Do you like signing?'

'More,' the boy replies tentatively, glancing up to see Tony's face, as if looking for approval. Tony must be smiling or something, but as if it wasn't enough for the boy he tells him to continue.

'Why do you sign?'

'No noise,'Evelyn replies immediately. Clint nods in understanding.

'Does he have noise-protection headphones?' he asks, turning to Tony who is staring at them with this special little smirk.

'Sure he does. Helps a lot, right, Evelyn?'

'Yes,' comes the reply. A spoken word.

The kid's voice is high and sweet and perfect; Clint suddenly realized how much he's missed kids. It's a bit ridiculous, given his childhood memories, but… he has somehow – he still doesn't know how – become the orphanage's and circus' mama. All the kids would come to talk to him when they needed some support and there were no adults to turn to. Clint can't even remember how that started, it just did and then there was no going back. Barney hated it. The older boys called him fag and sissy and fuck-up but Clint couldn't bring himself to care too much because he had – responsibility. He just proved himself in so many fights, beating up older kids by sheer force of persistence and cunning, until they left him mostly alone.

It was kind of the same situation like bringing Natasha in. She was like a lost brainwashed puppy – and yes, she beat him up nicely in a sparring session after he's told her that, but a few days later she admitted there was some truth to it.

'Sometimes I don't like the sounds, too,' Clint offers. The boy considers his words for a moment.

'Why? Are you like me?'

'No,' Clint replies, smiling, then takes out one of his hearing aids. Tony has known he has a hearing damage, after a mission gone wrong a few years back; he is just pretty daft for a genius sometimes, not connecting the dots and predicting that Clint would know ASL. 'I don't hear well and I use this to make it better, but sometimes my ears are tired and it makes me angry and it hurts so I prefer silence.'

'Me too,' Evelyn's eyes light up and he smiles widely. 'Headphones. Dad understands. And you, too. I am happy.'

'That's very good, friend. Are you my friend?' Clint signs, deciding to do what he feels is the right thing. Evelyn's head turns to Tony who probably signs him something, but Clint doesn't look up, he keeps observing the emotions playing on the boy's face. He looks impassive maybe, behind his almost too wide smile, but Clint understands how difficult for him it is, to express him feelings.

'Yes,' the boy answers in the end. 'Do you like l-e-g-o-s and weather forecast, too?'

Clint laughs. He is sure Evelyn's voice would be hopeful at this point.

'I like l-e-g-o-s,' he signs. 'I don't care about the weather.'

'You should,' the boy replies immediately, looking up at Tony and Clint follows his eyes. Tony is observing them still with the same smile, only that he looks a bit theatrically resigned now.

'Evelyn is obsessed with weather. You will be an expert son enough,' Tony explains and checks his watch. 'But – time to go, son. Sorry to make the meeting short. You will have more time tomorrow, Clint will come and cook for us – yes, something special green for you, Evelyn. Remember, we have a meeting with Doctor in half an hour and you need to pack some things for that…'

Evelyn blinks and waves Clint a goodbye before running of and disappearing into one of the halls, it takes just a second before he's gone.

'Wow,' Tony states, looking at Clint with fascination mixed with awe, 'you are like… instant buddy-machine? I'm amazed here. No, I really am – he's never been that open with anyone. It usually takes him at least a few hours to familiarize himself with a person. Can I keep you?'

'Are you going to pay me ten grand?' Clint replies immediately, looking at Tony expectantly.

'You can consider letting you stay in an apartment here rent-free a pay, in the real world you'd pay that or more for the view you have.'

'But Tooony,' Clint whines, walking around the man and having hard time at not bursting out laughing. 'Everyone gets that…'

'I will buy you whatever food things you might want for your cooking –'

That is something Clint can agree to.

'Okay –'

'… provided that you'll always make something for the little monster. We can go over the yes-foods and the no-foods later.'

'Deal,' Clint agrees straight away, ideas already rushing through his head. He takes Tony's hand and shakes it firmly. 'Now I will disappear and go buy what I need by myself and we can schedule out food date for later,' Clint finished, signs Tony goodbye, until tomorrow and hops into the stand-by open elevator.

Now, he really wants to have a talk with Natasha and then see Tony being a daddy 'cause it's been freaking amazing and cute so far, and he is sure it will still be. And Clint has a few new theories to verify.

A/N:Expected/unexpected? I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Would you like to see a JARVIS one?

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