Notes: Yeah, Clint has no idea the kind of effect he's having on the people around him. He's too busy being a determined little duck fluff! ;) But I do love that Logan is doing everything in his power to be sensitive to the fact that K has a little boy to consider. He's such a good man, and I love that about him. *snuggles the hug magnet*

Chapter 11: You're Not My Real Dad

Clint had still been treading carefully around Logan, though he was cautiously optimistic about going shooting with Logan and K, his bow clutched in his hands as they headed off through the grounds. It turned out that Logan knew how to shoot a bow and arrow too, which Clint thought was pretty cool — even if he still wasn't sure he wanted the guy kissing his mom.

And it didn't change the fact that Clint kept glancing over at Logan for the first few shots, because he wasn't sure how good Logan was and Clint was still learning and he wasn't sure if Logan would be mad that he was wasting their time if he saw that he kept hitting the red and not the yellow as much.

"Got a good eye, kid," Logan said after Clint had used up the arrows in his quiver.

Clint looked over his shoulder at Logan and gave him a small smile. "That's what Mom says."

"I'd bet you'd nail bullseyes every time if you watch when you time your release."

"You want me to watch my arrow and not my target?" Clint asked, wrinkling his nose. "That's not how Mom taught me."

Logan smirked and shook his head. "No. I just meant if you learn to cycle your breaths and let the arrow loose on the end of an exhale ...well. You'll figure it out."

Clint looked past Logan to K, who was nodding, and then back to Logan. "Okay. What's that? Mom showed me how to shoot with my breathing, but what's a cycle?"

Logan didn't move closer but started to explain how to breathe in a more focused way, counting the inhale and exhale, and how it helped to keep a more steady hand. But Clint was grateful that he still seemed to keep his distance from Clint. Almost like he knew Clint didn't want him to get too close...

"It'll seem weird to start with," K added. "But the more you do it, the more it comes naturally. And it applies to guns, too." When he looked her way, she smiled. "We would have gone over this later. Didn't want to throw too much at you at once."

Clint nodded, his face scrunched up in concentration in the exact same expression that he gave Storm whenever he was in her class and trying to get a difficult passage of reading. But it all made sense, so he turned back to his target with new determination — sure that he'd be able to get it fast if he worked hard.

And in the meantime, K was sitting on the picnic table, leaning her elbows on her knees as she watched Clint get into it. As Clint got more settled into his breathing, Logan made his way over to lean against the table with her, wearing a crooked little smirk that got her rolling her eyes at him.

But then a few moments later, Clint managed to get a perfect bullseye, and immediately, he let out a whoop of happiness and spun around to rush over to K. "Mom! Did you see that?"

She was grinning his way as she nodded. "It was beautiful, sweetheart."

"I wanna see if I can split it down the middle like the movies," Clint laughed delightedly.

"Bet you can," she agreed, already handing him a fresh quiver. "Robin Hood that sucker."

"Right down the middle," Clint promised, rushing off with the quiver in hand and a delightedly little giggle as he snatched up his bow again.

"You know he's too worked up to do it again, right?" Logan said quietly over K's shoulder, though she shushed him and smiled his way as Clint tried to get his breathing figured out again.

The two of them were half leaning into each other when Clint finally got his grin under control and started to steady his breath, though he had already learned to do that much before he drew it back, since it was a lot harder to hold it steady for a long time than it was to get it ready to go and then pull back.

He focused on the center of the nock from the last arrow, and at the very bottom of his breath, he let it fly—

—but it never hit the target, since a massive, blond man stepped out with the arrow in his grip and a crooked, disturbing sort of smile in place.

"Hey!" Clint shouted angrily, glaring at the big blond with his chin thrust out. "You screwed up my shot!"

The man started to chuckle before there was an echoing twang — and an arrow went through his knee. "Get away from him," K called out to Clint as Logan started to growl.

Clint didn't need telling twice when he heard the tone of K's voice and quickly scrambled back toward K with his bow still clutched to him tightly.

"Cute little blond," Creed said with a malicious little glint. "What … he's about nine, ain't he? Little scrawnier than I'd like to see …"

K was positively frozen as she watched him take his time drawing closer, and though she had the bow and arrow in her hands, she couldn't seem to get it together enough to draw back and nail the creep.

Logan turned Clint's way for just a second and mouthed out 'Run' before he darted forward with a snarl and started flat out tearing into Creed — claws and snarls — and completely not letting the bigger man get in any kind of a hit that was worth much of anything.

Clint was wide-eyed as he grabbed K by the hand and started pulling on her to get her to move too. "C'mon, Mom," he whispered.

She swallowed hard and started down the path with him as they left the snarls and roars behind them. "Wait," she said after they'd gotten some distance. "We can't run from him. Not if he wins."

Clint turned to face her and swallowed hard before he nodded. "Okay," he said. "I'll shoot him in the balls — and you take him down."

She managed a little smile and nodded. "Be ready. If he wins … he'll come after us with a roar. Guaranteed."

Clint nodded and gripped his bow a little tighter. "He doesn't scare me," he lied, just because K looked scared and he wanted her to feel a little better.

"He should," she replied as she nocked an arrow of her own. "That guy is nothing but nightmares and evil."

Clint nodded. "Then I'm glad you got away."

"Guess I didn't get far enough away," she said, glaring down the path they'd just come down. "Once you shoot, get out of here. He heals too."

"I'm not gonna let him hurt you."

She wanted to correct him, but she knew that if the guy came after them, and she was out of the fight, the kid was in deep trouble. But it wasn't too long before they heard heavy breathing and saw someone coming their way — though he most certainly wasn't blond.

Logan was battered and covered in blood, his clothes half shredded — though he still looked like he was ready to tear something in half. "Let's get back to the house," he said low.

"Are you okay?" Clint asked, his eyes as wide as they would go.

"I'll be fine," Logan answered, doing his best not to sound nearly as pissed off as he was. "Don't worry."

"Did you kill him?"

Logan let out a breath and turned his way. "He's not real easy to kill," Logan admitted. "But I gave it a solid shot — and he's off to lick his wounds."

"Oh, okay," Clint said. He watched Logan carefully all the way back to the house, though he was still hovering close to K.

"I want to talk to you," Logan said to K before he gestured to himself. "After I get rid of the stink."

"I'm sure you do," she said, though she nodded at that and simply steered Clint the opposite direction of Logan. "Sorry your range time got cut short, Clint."

"That's okay," Clint said. He watched her carefully. "You got a really good shot on his knee, though. That was pretty cool."

"Should have aimed for his head," K said.

"Or his crotch," Clint said.

She pulled him into a quick hug and kissed his forehead. "Doesn't always work as well as you'd like to think, sweetie."

"Maybe," he allowed. "But it makes 'em remember you."

"That it does," she agreed, though as soon as Clint was off and putting away his bow and quivers, K turned to go talk to Logan. This was going to be uncomfortable, and she knew it.

She waited for him at the top of the stairs, knowing that he'd gone to his room to deal with the mess and put on clean clothes, and thankfully, when he reappeared freshly washed, there wasn't even a trace of Creed's scent anywhere on him.

He stopped when he saw her and gently pulled his door shut before he padded silently to her and offered her his arm. "My office alright with you?" Logan asked as they started down the stairs.

"Seems appropriate. Get in trouble, go to the teacher's office .."

"You're not in trouble," Logan said, shaking his head. "Not anymore trouble than you were in already, that is." He gave her a little smirk, and she paused before smiling back his way.

"Tenacious."

"You bet," he agreed, and a few minutes later, she was taking a seat, and he was closing the door behind them. "I know he worked for Weapon X," Logan started out before he leaned on his desk so he could be nearer to her. "And I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that whatever happened with him wasn't something you were going along with."

"It was not," she said, shaking her head already.

"That's not unusual for him," Logan said before he blew out his breath, and the two of them watched each other for a long moment. "You didn't have a plan to deal with him." He was frowning her way as he crossed his arms over his chest. "If you know him, and it's clear you do — you can't just … that's how he tears people apart."

"I had a plan," she defended. "But it's taken him this long to even find me, okay? And … I wasn't expecting him to break the ice like that."

"K," he said in an almost disappointed sounding breath.

"I know. He's like that. I just … it's been nearly ten years that he hasn't been able to find me." K let one hand wave it off before she rested it at her temple and leaned into her hand. "I made it ten years, Logan."

"Which is stupidly impressive," he had to agree. "Hell, he catches up to me once a year."

"You … have been in one place for a long time," she pointed out.

He nodded and fixed her with a more serious expression. "And about that..."

"You know that I found Clint. As much as I claim him to be, he's not biologically mine."

"I know that," Logan said before he slipped into the chair next to her and let his voice drop. "But Creed doesn't. And he made it pretty clear that he thinks he's got a claim."

K threw her hands up and shook her head. "Well … his timeline is a little off, and just … no way would I allow that." She crossed her arms tightly. "I got out. I got away. That's it. I do not have a kid with that psycho."

Logan nodded at that. "Okay. Not like it'd be a deal breaker if you had."

She stopped and looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "You know I wouldn't agree to do anything with him … right?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah. Things happen anyhow."

"It's not the case," she said flatly.

"That's fine. Maybe you can spend a little time just you an' me, lettin' me know everything else. Ignore the Creed garbage and tell me more about you." He leaned back in his chair and made sure his stance was relaxed. "Tell me your past … I'll tell you mine."

She smirked at him and relaxed a little. "I already know about you."

"Do you now?" he said, looking more troublemaking. "You know what was in the files. But you don't know me."

"Fair point," she conceded with an almost playful smirk. "Okay … you go first. Tell me something I don't already know."

Clint had just finished putting up his bow when Jean and Storm both came around the corner, chatting easily back and forth with each other — though Jean paused when she saw Clint to give him a warm smile and a hello. "Back already from the target range?" Jean asked. "I thought you'd be out there all afternoon."

Clint nodded. "Yeah, we were gonna… but this big huge guy showed up and scared my mom," he admitted, drawing himself in. It was obvious that he was shaken by the fact that anything could scare his mom, even if he'd been trying to be brave when it was happening.

Jean froze, the friendly expression evaporating into concern. "What … what big huge guy?"

"I dunno. He's big and he scared Mom and Logan fought him," Clint said.

Jean made her way over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Can you tell me more?"

Clint bit his lip and nodded, though it was a mark of how much he liked the two women that he stepped closer to drop his voice to a whisper — and partway curl into Jean while he was at it. "He showed up outta nowhere and caught my arrow and … and he scared Mom because he said … he said I was scrawny and I think Mom was running away from him and — and he's not my dad, okay?" he said, gaining steam with every word until his eyes were as wide as they would go, and he was almost gripping Jean's arm.

"Wow," Jean said, wide-eyed. "You're projecting a whole lot right now."

"I don't mean to be loud," Clint said, loosening his grip on Jean's arm slightly and looking red-faced. "I was just real scared 'cause Mom's never been scared before," he added, letting his gaze drop. "I'm sorry — I'm not trying to yell in your head or nothing."

"No, it's alright," Jean promised. "I actually know who you're talking about now. How … do you know how it went?"

"Logan said he tried to kill him but he didn't — he just ran away," Clint whispered. "He got real torn up, though."

"But he was okay enough to walk?"

"Yeah, he came back with us, and he's talking with Mom now,"

Jean let out a breath. "Then he did really well," she said. "Usually, those two are pretty even. Logan must have been mad."

Clint paused and then leaned forward. "He told me he's got a real problem with people who screw with women and kids," he said seriously.

"He really does," Jean agreed. "Is she okay? And you? He didn't touch you, did he?"

Clint shook his head. "Mom got me away," he promised. "She's real scared, though."

"So she knows him then, hmm?" Jean asked, frowning slightly.

Clint nodded. "A long time ago," he said. "Cause he ... he was acting like he thought maybe…" He leaned forward to drop his voice as low as he could get it. "He ain't my dad, but he sure acted like a deadbeat."

Jean's expression shifted into something that Clint couldn't quite place. "That's not good."

Clint nodded. "Yeah, no kidding," he said.

"That guy," Jean said as she started to guide Clint down the hall. "That guy and Logan — they hate each other."

"Really?" Clint glanced up at Jean. "Is it 'cause Logan doesn't like creeps who hurt kids and women? 'Cause that's his own fault, you know. He's a creep."

"He really is," Jean agreed. "And yeah, that's the quick version of it. We should … probably go talk to Scott."

"Do we hafta?" Clint said with a sigh.

"No," she said. "Not if you don't want to. Did you want to find your mom, or …"

Clint paused. "Well… she's talking with Logan right now, and I don't wanna see them kissing…" He let out a sigh. "Okay, I guess we can go see Scott, but no kissing, okay? I'm getting real tired of it."

"If you're that tired of it, I think I can keep it under wraps," Jean promised, eyes dancing with amusement.

"Thanks, Jean," Clint said, sure to give her a little hug as they headed down the hall to let Scott know just who had been on the grounds — and so the rest of the residents of the institute could know what they were facing.