Summary: Phil comes to terms with the fact that there's some random deity out there that probably hates him.
(That deity is not Loki. Sorry.)
Also, just because I thought that they were cute bits of information: Ranunculus flowers mean "radiant" and Alstroemeria flowers mean "aspiring." They're all really very pretty.
Phil woke that morning fully expecting it to be an eventful day.
The gym that Clint and Natasha took their stress relief activities in had scheduled something akin to a recital for one Saturday morning in the middle of July. The idea was to show the member's parents that yes, you had spent your money wisely here. It also served to try to convince any other attendee to send their own children there as well. Thankfully, the shows that Phil's family were coming to see were on the same side of the gym and one right after the other, Clint with his archery right after Natasha and her ballet.
Yes, ballet.
The gymnastics classes and the ballet classes were both taught by a diminutive Russian by the name of Madam Kalionova. If Phil was perfectly honest, he had to admit that found her far scarier than was reasonable for someone that barely breached four feet tall. Phil didn't even know if she had a first name. He hadn't checked. Somehow, he felt as if she'd know.
Three months into Natasha's gymnastics classes, the woman used a firm, almost vice-like grip to literally pull him aside when he'd come to pick the children up. He was pretty sure she'd left bruises.
"This girl will take ballet. I like her. She is mine now. This is fine, yes?"
No part of that was a request.
Trying to stomp down on the really just irrational fear that was building in his stomach, Phil's eyes shifted towards Natasha, who had come to stand not three feet away. Her expression was impassive but her eyes were wide and bright. She could probably smell his fear.
They both could.
"…yes?" Phil replied, not entirely sure he hadn't just sold his daughter. Or his soul.
So now, nearly nine months later, Natasha was dancing lead in their version of The Nutcracker.
Watching Natasha dance was really just a delight. She was already a skilled actress, trained to make people feel only as she wanted them to. But now she was able to use those talents to bring people joy, with the end goal being the joy itself, not as a precursor to pain. On the other hand, Phil had been to see The Nutcracker with Pepper before and he was pretty sure that all the jumps and spins were done from more reasonable heights or included protective wires.
He was fairly certain that Kalionova put them in specifically for Natasha, simply because she could actually do them spectacularly and wouldn't allow Phil to bring charges against the place if she got hurt (which he would, because Phil was a rational FBI agent that feared no one. But, you know… after Kalionova retired. There was a long statute of limitations on cases like that).
Once the play had finished, Clint and Tony were quick to race to the dressing room area to congratulate her. Phil had even managed to hide a bouquet of red ranunculus flowers to surprise her with. He still had a bouquet of purple alstroemeria flowers for Clint hidden in a nearby food locker. Natasha accepted her flowers with a wide warm smile before plucking a single flower out of the bunch and offering it to her teacher. The stern old woman gave Natasha the barest upward flicker of the lips and accepted the flower with a nod.
Phil left the backstage area with Pepper feeling as if the worst was over. Yes, archery could be dangerous, but there was no risk of falling from a height or getting kicked in the face.
-xxxx-
So, it turned out that God probably hated Phil. It was possible that Kate Bishop, Clint's archery instructor, was the one who hated Phil, but he somehow felt secure in the belief that it was probably God.
It was the only reasonable explanation for why, after all of the other kids had done their targets, a stupidly massive obstacle course had been pulled out for Clint to run through. Starting from a two and a half story high balcony, Clint made his way down the course. He jumped over balls, dived through hoops and swung upside down on a trapeze, all the while shooting arrows at a myriad of moving and still targets. All blindfolded.
Blindfolded.
Phil trusted his kids, he really did, but he was seriously beginning to question the ethics in this place.
A glance over at Pepper and the way she had begun to almost hyperventilate; to gasp then relax, gasp then relax, told Phil that she was having similar compunctions.
Phil made a mental note to call his mother and apologize for all of the times he'd worried…
…Why were those arrows on fire?
-xxxx-
Phil managed to hold off the clearly inevitable heart attack by pretending - realizing -that the whole thing was done through CGI and special effects. There was clearly a green screen behind the obstacle course.
Clearly.
In fact, the moment he mentioned it to Pepper, she had seen it and steadfastly agreed to its existence. They were fine. Really, everything was fine.
They made it through that slice of torture with the knowledge that they had a nice, peaceful, grounded picnic planned for after the recitals. After congratulations had been given all around, Phil bundled his children into his Jeep and made his way away from the gymnasium with the careful ease of someone that was clearly driving under the speed limit and fleeing from no one.
Phil woke that morning fully expecting it to be an eventful day.
And if he had gone straight to the park, that would have been the end of it.
But, with the intention of treating and possibly bribing his children with all sorts of treats, Phil stopped by the bank to withdraw some money from his account.
Phil stood in line, sixth from the front, and allowed himself to stare off into space and finally calm down. There was a soft tug on the tips of his fingers. Phil glanced down to see Clint staring up at him. The boy's eyes shifted to the left and back again. Without turning his head, Phil glanced in the indicated direction.
Oh. For fuck's sake.
Three men, dressed seemingly casually, were standing at different points on the left side of the room. They shifted every now and again, a vague sense of nervousness all about them. On one such shift, Phil could see the barest outline of a gun, compact but not particularly small, down the back of one of their pants.
They were going to rob the bank.
There goes another point in the "Some deity probably hates me" column.
A quick look at the other children told him that they were probably well aware of the situation as well. Natasha had her hands in the pockets of her jacket and seemed to be shifting her fingers in a way that made him wonder if she was armed. Bruce was squatting closed kneed next to Tony quietly discussing exit strategies. Phil shifted a touch to the side and lightly wrapped an arm around Pepper's waist. He smiled easily and turned his head to whisper to her.
"Keep smiling. It looks like the bank is about to be robbed."
Pepper's answering smile was clear of any worry or concern on the outside. "Not by us, I hope?"
Phil actually had to pause and glance at his kids before he shook the thought away. They certainly would never bother with a mid-level security bank like the one they were in.
Wait, no. They wouldn't rob a bank in general. On principal. Obviously.
Phil turned his attention back to Clint. "How many blow pops did you want to get at the park?"
Easily catching on, Clint smiled widely up at Phil. "At least four!"
"I'd like two. Blackberry and Caramel, I think," Natasha added with the same easy cheer as Clint. Phil's eyes shifted in the direction she'd turned from and caught sight of the two men, one Black the other Latino filling out deposit slips but glancing at their partners on the right.
"So, six. That all? How many can you actually eat?"
"Two, easy," Natasha replied.
Clint frowned slightly. He pulled a small handful of rubber bands from his pocket. "I could start three. But maybe only finish one," he admitted.
Phil nodded. He knelt down and inconspicuously handed Clint all of the pens that he kept in his shirt pocket. Pepper also handed over a small pack of unopened pens from her purse. "Tony, Bruce. Go play with the tellers, huh? See if they have anything nice for you to play with," he said, leaning down and slipping his badge into Bruce's hands.
Both nodded and rose to their feet.
They walked up to the counter at the front and went up to a female teller that seemed to be working on a report of some sort and thus was not handling any customers. She glanced at them, briefly and curiously, but paid them no mind until Bruce lifted Tony up onto his shoulders so that he was visible to her.
"Hi!" Tony chirped. The woman blinked at him and gave him a confused smile. Tony brought one finger up to his lips in a silent shushing motion. "This is really, really important, okay? Smile and keep your eyes on me, okay? Can you do that?"
She raised both eyebrows at him, her smile growing a bit wary. "Where are your parents kiddos?" She asked.
"Six, no, fifth down now," Bruce said, slipping the badge over to her as Tony waved his arms around and moved his lips without speaking. The woman stared at the two in confusion and opened the small wallet up. At the sight of the very official looking FBI badge (she's seen more than enough of them in her day working as a manager at this place), she stilled. She looked up to see the same man on the badge and Pepper freaking Potts shooting her a quick sheepish smile before she was turning to talk to the little girl with her. "Can you smile and keep your eyes on us?" Bruce asked again.
Megan Turner gave the boys her best Customer Service, I'm Really So Happy To Help You, smile. Both smiled back in response. "Do you have some small pins or marbles or pennies or something?" She nodded once and, rather than opening up the drawer, she reached into her pockets and pulled out all of the change in it.
Tony took the offered pennies and started to arrange them. "First, go ahead and press the panic button, there's six different armed idiots in here that look like they're getting ready to start something stupid."
When Megan startled slightly and moved to look around, Tony suddenly threw his arms up into the air and proudly proclaimed, "And then I threw it up THIS high! You should have SEEN it!" Megan blinked at him, more than a little alarmed at the subject change. Tony used his index finger to point to his eyes and then down to the coins. "Press the button and watch me," he whispered.
Megan put her smile back on and leaned forward like she was enraptured by Tony's non-existent story. She slipped one hand under her desk and pressed the button without taking her eyes off the kids. Tony arranged the coins to match where the men were standing. By the time Megan's manager arrived to see what was going on, she was deep enough into the act to excitedly show the man Tony's creation and quietly inform him of the situation.
Clint took in the six different men in the room as Natasha slipped away silently. He pretended to play with his rubber bands as he sized up the threat level of each of the men. He uncapped eight of the pens and quickly shot out six of them in rapid succession, two at a time.
One of the men went down with a loud curse, one of the pens hitting him hard in a particularly sensitive area. Two others were grumbling and hissing loudly, now bleeding from various spots in their thighs, arms or necks. Phil rushed over to them, the picture of parental concern.
"I am so sorry. I don't know what came over him!" Phil said, making a beeline for the man with the neck injury first. He ignored their shouting in his effort to 'take a look' at the man's neck. He casually delivered a sharp pinch to the man's neck, causing his eyes to roll back as he blacked out.
Phil gasped in alarm and slowly lay the man down on the ground. "Oh my God! I don't know what happened! Should we call an ambulance?" he asked the other potential robbers. Their panicked expressions at that told Phil a great deal about how much they cared about the other members of their group.
Phil glanced over his shoulder to see one of them men on the other side of the room drop like a log. It went unnoticed by both the patrons and other bank robbers, whose eyes were all on Phil.
That was two down.
No, three. She was faster than he thought.
"Let me help you take him to your car. I'll even pay for the hospital bills! Where are you parked?" Phil asked. The closest robber's face twitched in quickly disguised irritation.
"We- I don't have time for this!" The man barked, one hand going to reach behind him.
Phil, still crouched down by the fallen man, shot out a leg and swiped the man behind the knees, causing him to fall. In the time it took for the man's ass to hit the ground, Phil had darted forward, grabbed his own gun as well as the one at the man's back and then immobilize him by bringing his leg around to their fronts and slamming his foot into the robber's neck to slam him back towards the ground.
He had the safety on both guns unlocked and pointed in a flash. "FBI, on you knees!" he barked.
The remaining bank robbers stared at Phil with wide eyes before moving slowly down to their knees.
Just in time for the door to slam open and for actual police officers to storm in. Phil kept his guns pointed until the officers neared and began cuffing the men. The was a brief moment where he wondered why none of the officers even questioned the fact that he was the only visibly armed man in the room but then he caught a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.
Natasha stood off to the side, just out of the way of the doors, with Nick Fury crouched at her side. The seemed to be talking quietly to each other until, as one, they turned and smirked at him.
They looked way too damn amused to be involved in a potentially life-threatening situation.
Phil blinked hard in an effort to not roll his eyes and turned the safety back on for both guns. He handed the extra off to one of the police officers and made his way over to his daughter and her co-conspirator.
"Tell me that you at least left those guys where the police can find them?" he said.
"They're in some cabinets," she replied. When Phil's lips quirked downward, because those were not large cabinets behind the desks, she added, "They were unconscious. They may be sore later."
Nick gave her a firm pat on the shoulder which earned a pleased smile from the girl. "Your kids, Phil."
Phil chuckled softly. "They were pretty cool," he agreed.
Clint huffed from where he and the rest of their little group had walked up behind Phil. "Please. They were just seriously bad at this. No way we would've gotten made this easily."
Phil stared at his children for a long moment. "I feel like I shouldn't have to tell you that you're not allow to rob any banks."
Because his children (most of his children; Bruce was the good one) clearly did not respect his authority on that statement, they glanced at Nick.
The man let out a soft hum. "When you're older, I'll let you pretend to rob banks as a training exercise for their security systems," he replied.
Phil glared at his boss. "You are a horrible role model," he deadpanned.
Nick gave him a level look. "I'm sorry, who was it that thought it would be perfectly reasonable to allow his children to confront armed bank robbers instead of calling the police?"
The two men stared at each other in silence for a long moment.
"…So, picnics are fun…" Clint offered, breaking the silence.
"They are," Pepper agreed, all too happy to end an argument before it started. "We're going down to Melway. Care to join us, Nick?"
Nick raised an eyebrow. "You can't be serious."
"Of course we are! The children love spending time with you," Phil said, an alarmingly evil smiling creeping upon his face. Nick narrowed his eyes at his friend before glancing down at the children who looked excited at the prospect of having him join them.
They were all cute and hopeful and horrible.
"Sure…" Nick said carefully.
Clint and Tony grinned up and him while Bruce and Natasha looked quietly pleased.
Phil finally had someone the kids could force to run around with them while he got to relax. Maybe Phil wasn't so hated by the guys upstairs after all.
"We're gonna catch some squirrels and train them to ride our kites! You and Phil are gonna be bait!" Tony announced.
Of course.