A/N. Hiya! Long time no see. So here's a pretty long chapter in comparison to the other drabbles. We have Coulson babysitting Alaina and Jim, yay! The thing with this one though, is that I think I captured his character nicely in the beginning, but then he just kind of... stops being Phil and goes OOC. I'm also kind of unsure about my kid dialogue, so let me know what you think via review :D It would be much appreciated. Enjoy!
Alaina - Steve/? = 5
Jim - Clint/Nat = 4
Brianna - Bruce/Betty = 2
Mark - Tony/Pepper = 17
Lindy - Tony/Pepper = 11
Others - not born yet
RING! RINGRING! RING!
Phil sighed and paused in his typing. Setting the tablet on his desk, he picked up his cell phone. "Go for Coulson."
"Phil, it's Clint."
"Agent Barton. How can I help you?"
"I need a favour."
The casual smile that had grown on the handler's face when his former agent called quickly dropped into a line. "I do believe we were even, last I checked. You know, when I hauled your ass from that burning building?"
Clint scoffed on the other end of the line. "I didn't ask for your help. I had it totally under control."
"Riiiiight…."
"But that isn't the point."
"Then what is?"
"I need you to babysit."
A pause. "I'm sorry?"
"Babysit," Hawkeye repeated. "Not everyone. Just Alaina and Jim. Natasha, Steve, and I have been called on a mission and everyone else is occupied with something."
"Like what?"
Phil could see ever so clearly the unamused, raised-eyebrow look that dripped with sarcasm Clint had mastered when he was seventeen. The corner of his lips twitched upward as he listened to his friend reply. "Coulson. Do you know how many people live in the Tower? Fifteen. I don't have the time or the care to list all of them and what they're doing and why they can't stop to watch the kids. Just do it or I swear to God I'll come over there after my mission and rip you a new one."
The handler chuckled. It disappeared quickly. "You said… Alaina and Jim?"
"Yeah. Brianna is off with her mom somewhere and Mark and Lindy are… I don't know. Not here. Come on. Nat and I leave in ten and Steve will follow in twenty. Be there."
There was a faint click. Phil sighed again and rubbed at his eyes with his index finger and thumb. He was an agent, not a parent or a caregiver or even a babysitter! In all his life, he had never done anything like this before. The closest possible thing would have to be when he found Clint at eighteen and took him under his wing. But that was it.
But he couldn't let Clint down. Yeah, sure, they were even, but they both knew that either one of them would do almost anything for the other if they needed it. And right now, Clint needed a babysitter.
But first, he needed to make another phone call. "Skye, it's Coulson. I need to ask you something."
Fifteen minutes later, Phil stepped out of the helicopter and onto the helipad of Avengers Tower. He waved to Grant, the pilot, who sent him a thumb's up before pulling away into the night. Coulson turned and marched up to the glass doors. He looked up, straight into the camera.
JARVIS' voice penetrated the "silence" of the city that never slept: "Scanning. Retinal scan complete. Welcome, Agent Coulson." With a sound like releasing compressed gas, the automatic doors slid apart and he walked in, adjusting his tie and blazer as he did so. The doors closed behind him.
Steve sat on the floor, playing with Alaina and Jim, who were taking turns passing around an iPad and playing what appeared to be three dimensional holographic checkers with three boards floating in a stack. It was a cute sight. Phil resisted the urge to grin and walked up to meet them by the couch.
He'd met all the kids before, of course, but he'd never been alone with them. He would never show it, but he was getting increasingly nervous as the clock ticked. Steve looked up and smiled at him.
"Good evening, Phil."
Both kids turned to look at him with bright, innocent, wide eyes. His body betrayed him and he gulped. "Uncle Phil!" They cried and scrambled to their feet. The little ones and threw their arms around each leg and he awkwardly patted their heads, hiding his blush as best he could.
"Hi kids." He tried to plaster on a smile but he didn't need the confused look on Steve's face to know it looked like a grimace. He dropped it. Smiling wasn't really his thing anyway.
Jim let go first and plopped back down in his spot, soon followed by Alaina. Captain Rogers pushed himself to his feet with a grunt. "Uncle Phil's going to take my spot okay guys?"
They both whined. Alaina launched herself at her father. "But Daddy! I don't want you to go! I don't want you to get hurt!"
Damn. This girl was cuter than puppies.
Steve smiled sadly at his daughter and gently stroked her hair. "It's alright sweetie, Daddy'll be fine. I'll be back before you know it."
She sniffed. "Promise?"
He nodded and stuck out a pinkie as he kneeled in front of her. "Promise."
She hooked her pinkie with his and wiped away her stray tears. He kissed her forehead before getting up to leave. Before he did, he turned to Jim and leaned down. "Now you take care of your cousin, alright? I'm counting on you to be the man of the house."
Phil was almost insulted – until he realized that Steve wasn't really serious. That would have been embarrassing.
"But Uncle Steve, 'Laina is older than me," Jim argued, tilting his head. "Shouldn't she take care of me?"
Both adults chuckled. "I know sport," he leaned in closer and whispered in his ear, "but do your best anyway. You two always have to look out for each other. And the others too. But for right now, you protect each other. Do I make myself clear?"
They nodded in sync. "Yes sir!"
"Good." Steve stood once again and patted Phil's shoulder as he passed. "Thanks for doing this Phil. It means a lot."
Well what could the handler say to that? His childhood hero had just thanked him and admitted how grateful he was to have him. Despite all these years, he still couldn't stop with the fanboy-ing. Habit, he supposed.
So he kept his mouth closed and did his best to smile a little before saluting and turning back to the children, who were waiting patiently for him to take his turn. He sat down cross legged in the spot Steve had vacated and observed the board.
"What colour am I?"
"Green," Jim chirped, "Like Uncle Bruce."
The kids chuckled.
Phil's eyebrows knit together. "Since when is there green in checkers? Come to think of it, since when are there three people in checkers?"
"Since Uncle Tony invented it," Jim answered again.
"With help from Aunty Jane," Alaina piped up.
Phil nodded. That made sense. He stared at the board some more. The children were completely silent, waiting for his next move. Tentatively, he nudged a holographic green piece onto the second level board.
Jim skipped his piece. And his other piece. And his other piece. While Barton-Romanoff laughed blatantly and stuck his tongue out at Phil, Coulson cursed himself internally. He couldn't lose to a kid. Then again, they were kids. He should let them win. Right. Kids. Remember.
Alaina then skipped two of Jim's pieces. It was his turn. Then Jim's turn. Then back to Alaina again. In no time, the game was over and Jim won. The boy threw his arms into the air and screamed, "YESSSSSSSS!" as if he had just conquered the world. Phil winced. Mini Clint jumped to his feet and pointed a finger at his cousin. "I win! I win! You lose! Nieh!"
Alaina burst into tears and slipped and slid as she fled from the room and into the elevator. Phil panicked – but then he realized that JARVIS would take care of her and de-tensed his shoulders. He turned to glare at Jim, who shrunk back beneath his gaze so much that he feel backward onto his bottom.
"Now that wasn't very nice."
Jim had the decency to look a little sheepish but kept his mouth glued shut.
"Why did you do that?"
"Because I won." He said it like it was obvious.
Phil was this close to rolling his eyes. "Well rubbing it in people's faces doesn't help your case."
The kid blinked. "Huh?"
Coulson's eyebrow twitched. "Go apologize to Alaina."
"But I didn't do anything!"
Okay, Barton Junior here wasn't getting it. How was Phil going to do this? He tried to remember what Skye had told him over the phone.
Don't seem too serious.
Making them laugh is your best bet.
Don't let them hear you swear. The parents will chop your head off.
Tickling works ninety percent of the time.
Put them to bed no later than nine. Do you hear me? NO LATER THAN NINE OH FREAKING CLOCK.
Right. Okay. Humour. Let's try that. "Jimmy, buddy…" this was not starting off well, "when you hurt someone's feelings and make them cry, even if you don't think it's your fault, always apologize. It will save you a world of pain." Where was the humour? He was usually good with that. Well, maybe he just wasn't good with kids.
Jim stared at his knees like they could decipher Phil's words. Finally, after two agonizing minutes, the novice archer pushed himself to his feet and ran for the elevator. Phil wasn't expecting that, and therefore had to jog to catch up with him.
"Jarvis! Hold the door!"
"As you wish, Agent Coulson."
He slipped into the elevator with the boy, who was rubbing his forearm up and down – a trait he had inherited from his father. Phil softened. He really was a miniature version of his father. Same grey eyes, same shaped nose, same skin tone, etc. But there were little bits and pieces of his mother in there too. His hair had a twinge of red, probably a highlight from the sun. His face was round, like hers. The stony, narrowed gaze matched Natasha's disapproving stare perfectly.
There was a ding before Jim zipped out of there faster than Coulson could watch. He walked after the child onto an unfamiliar hallway. The spy prodigy seemed to know where he was going and walked right into a room on the right. Phil followed
It was a bedroom. Steve and his wife's bedroom, he presumed. On the king sized bed, lay tiny little Alaina, face buried in a pillow taller than a basketball. Her body shook with sobs, muffled by the feather covered fabric.
He watched from the doorway as Jim clambered up onto the bed and crawled over to Alaina. He shook her shoulder. "'Laina?" he whispered.
She sobbed louder.
Phil cringed. He watched.
Jim's face crumpled and Phil's heart did the same. The poor boy looked heartbroken; like he really was sorry for what he did.
"'Laina I'm sorry!" He exclaimed. "I don't like it when you cry! It's loud and annoying and it makes my heart hurt." He rubbed his chest where his heart was. "I like it better when you smile. It's a lot prettier."
The blonde girl sniffed and peeked one eye out to stare at him. It was red and puffy. "Really?"
He nodded enthusiastically. "Totally."
She leaped up and threw her arms around him, facing away from the door. Phil watched as Jim blushed bright pink and hugged her back. He had the sudden urge to, "awwwww…..". Skye warned him that might happen.
The two kids began whispering to each other, so low that he couldn't hear. He left them to it, telling JARVIS to inform him of any activity and headed back for the elevator, a genuine smile on his face. Maybe babysitting wasn't so bad after all.
He found them two hours later, cuddled up together on Alaina's parents' bed. Jim had both arms around his older cousin, his chin resting on the crown of her head. His mouth was open and he was snoring softly. Their legs were tangled together, and her head was nestled in his neck, one hand resting against his heart.
It was honest to God the absolute cutest freaking thing he had ever seen. Definitely cuter than puppies.
A/N. There you have it folks! I didn't like referring to Jaina as cousins because... well you all know what happens in the future. But I know that Steve and the others would still refer to them as cousins when they're children. It felt weird but necessary. And remember, they are not related in any way shape or form. ALSO. Next time, catch the last drabble :( for now, where Thomas meets Loki for the first time :OOOO I originally had it that he would see his Uncle in a prison cell, but since I saw Thor the Dark World, that won't work for obvious reasons. No spoilers (i hope). If anything, it will be kind of AU. So. Yeah. It will be my first time writing Loki with dialogue - EVER. Wish me luck!