Potential trigger warning: Clint has a nightmare with implied torture. Life gets simpler if people actually talk to each other. Thanks to Kylen and my betas at The Beta Branch and everybody reading!


"Agent Coulson!" Coulson turned to see Meg and Doctor Beeks hurrying after him. "We need to talk to you!"

"About?"

"Clint," Beeks said. "But let's take this someplace private."

Coulson glanced at his watch. "My office is closest, and Clint won't be back for another few hours." Nothing more was said until the three had been seated. "So?"

"I'm about to write orders sending him away from the Helicarrier for a few days." Beeks didn't try to soften his words. "Because he's working too hard to come to terms with everything. He doesn't know how to deal with Darla's death, still, and you vanishing didn't help matters any. And then the sudden increase in paranoia around here after that little event in the gym? Everybody's on edge and he's sensitive enough to the ebb and flow around here to know that. Which is just tying him up in knots mentally, because his coping skills seem to be on the fritz, for whatever reason, and it shows. He looks like crap, Phil."

"And you want me to do what?" Coulson leaned back in his chair. "Jim, he has things to do."

"Then I'll pull his clearances." Beeks looked stubborn. "Just for a weekend, see how that goes. Maybe an extended weekend. Throw him into a hotel room someplace. Room service, unlimited cable and movies, whatever he wants. Just get him away from anything SHIELD and let him connect to the rest of the world. Let him get centered again. Back to normal. At least, normal for him."

"We're not talking about putting him up at the Ritz," Meg interjected. "Just getting him off the Helicarrier. What about that family that he's told me about? Do you think that they'd be willing? It's almost Easter – that way you could combine him getting away from SHIELD facilities with learning more about how the rest of the world works?"

"I don't even know if he'll have the time. I don't think that I do." Coulson felt cornered. "And how do you know that it'll even work?"

"We don't." Meg crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. "But I do know enough to say that it won't hurt."

Coulson glared at the two as he reached for his phone. "And because I have a sneaking suspicion that you'll not only pull Clint's clearances, but mine as well, stay there. Let me make a phone call."

"I think he's on to you," Meg murmured to Beeks. "Ah, Delores. Clint talks about her sometimes; she was one of the ones to help him out at the Manhattan training base. It's her…daughter's family, I think, that Clint's spent time with."

"Marlene's talked to me about that," Beeks whispered back. "And if I need to, I'll get her in on this. She'd be willing to help, especially since subterfuge like this is right up her alley." He snorted at the look Coulson was giving him. "Well?"

Coulson slammed the phone down. "Friday through Monday at Delores' daughter's house." He pointed at Beeks. "This doesn't work, you can explain to people why I had to push everything back a month."

"It's just a weekend, Phil, not a month," Beeks said, annoyed. "Although I can make it a month if you want."

"Don't," Coulson sighed. "And things were depending on the phase of the moon. But they aren't time-sensitive, and waiting a month might actually be better."


"Pack your things. We're leaving as soon as you're ready. Skip class." Clint blinked at Coulson's orders.

"Target?" Clint asked around his breakfast. "Where? What? How long?"

Coulson's lips thinned. "You're the target. And I'm getting you out of the line of fire of your cheering squad, because Beeks is on the warpath again. What and where? We've been invited to June's for Easter. A couple nights there, on her invitation, go to church, hunt for eggs with the kids. Sleep more than five hours a night. And don't bring any homework; you're supposed to relax."

"Whatever." Clint rolled his eyes. And yawned. "Church. Isn't that dressing up?"

"Yes." Coulson smirked. "So bring your suit." Spinning on his heel, he ignored Clint's groan. He had to go visit Beeks.

"Jim." Coulson shut the door behind him and locked it. "Sorry to barge in, but we're leaving in an hour. Any last requests? And I think you were right. He immediately asked who his target was."

"Of course I was right. I'm a psychiatrist," Beeks snorted. "And here. Valium, if he starts to get worked up. Some stuff to help him sleep – please have him use it at least tonight." He held up a syringe. "And because I'm always worried, if you have to, use this. More Valium, but this way you'll just have to hold him down and jab him wherever."

"Valium?" Coulson asked doubtfully. "He's not that bad."

"Lack of sleep and high levels of tension can cause problems. Just humor me, please? Oh, one more thing." Beeks leaned over and rummaged through a desk drawer. "Chamomile tea. He'll take this one over anything else." He paused. "But whatever you think is best."

Coulson stared at the box of tea. "Can the sleeping pills be dissolved in this?"

"Not easily. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that Clint won't take any of these willingly." Coulson held up the envelopes with the pills. "But if I could-"

"Slip him a mickey?" Beeks nodded. "Come with me." He led Coulson through Medical and into a small office. "Allen, do you have any liquid sedatives that can be mixed in with a drink?"

"Hope you have a good reason…who is it for?" The look that the pharmacist was giving him made Coulson feel ashamed to have even brought it up.

"Barton, Clint. He's refusing damn near everything and we're kicking him out for the weekend. I want him to actually get a chance to sleep, but…" Beeks shrugged. "Single dose."

"Let me see." The pharmacist pulled out a book. "Sure. Chloral Hydrate. Don't use it in that." He nodded at the box of tea. "Juice, if you don't want him to know. Don't let him have anything alcoholic, either. Give me five minutes to find Barton's information and I'm going to need signatures." He vanished.

Beeks leaned against the wall. "Only here. Anywhere else and you'd be bribing Clint to ask me about getting this stuff. But here, the needs of the organization trumps the rights of the people sometimes, so drugging him up, while it will cause issues, isn't exactly frowned on." He sighed. "This is not going to be a constant thing."

"I'm planning on talking to Clint," Coulson replied. "And if you're saying that he needs this, then I'll take your word on it. Although he really didn't look that bad when I saw him a few minutes ago even though I think he's too focused on what he has to do."

Beeks hummed. "Well, then, bear with me when I say that this will only be a good thing, then? And thank you for asking, instead of getting a dose of whatever is used by operatives from whatever stash they have."

"GHB, I think." Coulson shrugged. "But you and I both know that I'm more about SHIELD. And if you're saying that Clint's about to crash and burn?"

"I know," Beeks said grimly. "I don't think he is, but better safe than sorry. As always. And maybe you can get him to talk about everything, too. He's shut me out again."

"Here." The pharmacist had returned with a small bottle. "Single dose. Agent…Coulson? Right? You're going to be the one dosing Barton? Okay. I'm giving him a pediatric dose since he's never had this before and the orders in his chart are very clear on how much he gets. Call in if he has any problems. It works pretty quickly, and mix it in a cup of juice. No less, preferably no more." He held out a binder to Beeks. "Doctor Beeks, I need your signature on the prescription, please."

Beeks scribbled his name. "Thanks, Allen."


"June!" Clint tightly squeezed June before letting go. "And kids!"

"Unca Cint!" Julia grabbed at his leg as June laughed. "Up!"

Coulson blinked, startled, at the sudden change from taciturn and morose to upbeat and bouncy. "Damn," he muttered under his breath as Clint dropped his bag and picked up Julia. "June, thanks for inviting us."

"Always." June glanced between Clint and Coulson. "Come on in, you two. You're in the same rooms as you usually are. Dinner is in about five minutes, so your timing is perfect. It's macaroni and cheese tonight. Homemade."

"Yum." Clint grinned. "Thanks for having us, June."

Coulson could only sigh, pick up Clint's bag, and follow.

"Here." Coulson held out a cup when Clint finished helping June with the dishes. "I didn't think that you'd want anything alcoholic tonight."

"Nah," Clint said, dropping into a chair. "Just wanna relax. It's good to get away from work."

"Vacations are fun," June agreed. "Ah, thank you, Phil. Although," she winced when a crash was heard from the other room, followed by a raised voice from Dave, "I wouldn't think that here would be your first choice."

"You invited us." Coulson shrugged.

"Vacation?" Clint blinked. "I can call this a vacation?" He took a long drink of juice and made a face. "Seriously, boss, gotta shake up the bottle. This is…bitter."

"Sorry." Coulson watched as Clint downed the rest of it. "Want some more?"

"Nah." Clint shook his head. "I'm gonna go hang out with the kids a bit."

"After they've gone to bed, we're going to put on a movie. Dave and I have been working through some comedies," June said. "If you're interested."

"Cool," Clint threw over his shoulder as he left the room.

"I'm going to follow him." Coulson pushed up from his seat. "Just to keep an eye on everything. It sounds a little chaotic in there."

"Agreed." June laughed when she saw the state of the living room. "And it's bathtime for the twins. Pick your stuff up, everybody, and boys, move it. Tommy and Julia, go find a book." She eyed Clint. "Maybe you should think about going to bed, too, Clint. You're looking like you're about two minutes from passing out."

Clint yawned. "Yeah. Suddenly hit me. Boss, you put my bag away, yeah?" He shook his head. "Night."

"Night," Coulson murmured. "Don't bother getting up early, either." He waited until it was just him, June, and Dave in the room before chuckling. "Don't expect him for breakfast."

"Oh?" June glanced over at the door. "Why not?"

"Call it a hunch." Coulson shrugged and went to help finish putting the toys away. "So, what movie did you two have planned for tonight?"


"You know, Phil, you're making this into a habit." Coulson glanced over his shoulder to see June leaning against the wall. "Why don't you let the poor boy sleep? He really wasn't looking very good last night."

"He's actually doing a lot better than even a few days ago. And I slipped him some sleeping medication last night in his juice; he'll probably be out for most of the day, if history is any indication." Coulson shrugged. "Plus, he hasn't complained yet, and the kids seem to like it." He glanced pointedly down at Julia. "It also prevents tantrums, which would wake him up. And since I'm in there…"

June sighed. "You know him best. And if having Julia take her nap in there with him may help, I'll allow it this once."

Coulson chuckled as he finished picking the lock on the door. Crouching down, he nodded at Julia. "Okay, Julia. What does your Uncle Clint say to do?"

Julia made a face. "Shhhh!"

"Exactly." In one swift move, Coulson picked her up and opened the door. He motioned to June with a jerk of his head as he stepped inside. "At least he remembered to use the actual bed this time," he whispered as he carefully set Julia down next to Clint. "Remember, Julia. Be nice."

June quietly gasped behind him. "Phil? He didn't look like this yesterday?"

"I know, June." Coulson raised his voice slightly when Clint didn't move to Julia's gentle pats on his cheek. "He's had a bad few months. Somebody died, I got hurt, and then there were a few problems at work."

June slowly moved to crouch down next to the air mattress that Clint was sprawled out on. Using the edge of her shirt, she gently wiped at his face. "Poor thing," she murmured. "Please, stay as long as you two need to. I want to see him smiling again, Phil."

"I can't guarantee that," Coulson warned. With a sigh, he sat on the floor next to June. "He's always petrified whenever we come here that he'll do something wrong and you won't invite him back. At least for now; that may change with time. I hope it will change."

"Oh," June breathed out. "Julia, sweetie, why don't you take your nap here with Uncle Clint?" She reached for a blanket that Clint had kicked off and held it up. "Here, snuggle with mommy first, then show Uncle Clint how good you are at snuggling." Coulson winced as Julia practically launched off the air mattress to land in the blanket. June quickly wrapped Julia up and rocked her for a couple minutes, humming softly. "Okay, Julia. Naptime." She gently put Julia down next to Clint. "I'm sure that he likes your snuggles." She chuckled softly. "And your kisses, too."

Coulson moved to sit on the couch. "He does. He likes the kids." He glanced over when Clint moaned slightly and shifted to curl around Julia. "Get the camera."


June couldn't hold back her laugh when Clint stumbled into the kitchen. He hadn't take the time to change and she wondered what the logo on his t-shirt was from. "Evening, Clint."

"Gonna kill him," Clint muttered. "He's dead." He slumped down in a chair and June winced when she heard the thud of his head hitting the tabletop. "So dead."

"Oh?" June grabbed a can of Coke. "Here. Have something with some sugar and caffeine." She set it down on the table.

Clint reached out one hand and swiped at the can. "I don't sleep this long. Ever. Unless somebody gives me something and I know that there's…stuff that can be put into drinks and I'm never taking a drink from him again."

June laughed. "Maybe you needed the sleep?"

"Maybe Coulson needs to stop being such a…a…nanny." Clint scowled. "I was fine. But then he suddenly announced that you had invited us here for Easter and since I haven't really had a chance to experience Easter that I can remember and he made me miss school yesterday and-"

"And you needed it, Clint."

Clint's head swiveled to stare at the door. "Are there kids anywhere close?"

"No. Why?" June glanced between Clint and Coulson.

"Good." Clint slowly stood up and stalked over to Coulson. "Coulson, you're a damn fucker to have pulled that shit and you know it. I don't give a damn what Beeks said to do, you know that I don't do shit like that and what else did he give you?"

"Chamomile tea and Valium," Coulson didn't back down. "Get some appropriate clothing on, Clint."

"Fuck off," Clint ordered. "You fucking drugged me last night, made me sleep almost the entire damn day and-"

"And you needed it, Clint. Beeks and Meg said so." Coulson glanced around. "You want to keep on yelling, let's go back to your room where it's private and you don't have to watch what you say." He raised one hand. "And you decide to get physical, Barton?" His voice dropped. "I'm thinking Siberia."

"Hey!" June quickly moved to stand in between the two men. "No fighting in my house! Clint, go sit down. Phil, you too. Keep it polite, gentlemen." Spinning on her heel, she moved to the fridge. "Clint, food? Dinner's in two hours. I have leftovers from last night or hot dogs."

"Leftovers," Clint mumbled as he moved to obey June's orders. "Sorry, June."

"Phil?"

"Yes?"

"Apologize. While yes, I agree that maybe Clint needed it after seeing him yesterday and this morning, maybe you could have talked to him? Used logic, instead of trickery? Right, Clint?"

"No." Clint slouched down and reached for the Coke. "I hate taking medicine." He sighed at the look Coulson gave him. "Yeah. If he'd said why and if he'd said that it was either willingly or he'd've used that injectable stuff that I know he's carrying around and yeah, I'm gonna say something to people at work."

"What?" Coulson blinked. "Were you going through my things, Barton?"

"No." Clint shook his head. "Thanks, June. Saw the shape of the syringe in your pocket yesterday when we were leaving."

June ruffled Clint's hair. "And did sleeping the day away help? Julia spent most of the day in there with you, you know."

"Yeah," Clint slowly said. "It did. And he won't apologize. He doesn't, when he's right." He frowned. "And yeah, boss, you were right. Only way to have gotten me to have taken that stuff – which I still think I didn't need – would've been to have tricked me."

"Glad you see that." Coulson nodded. "And Beeks was going to just give me a sleeping pill for you. I asked about what you got last night." He leaned forward. "Clint – no, finish your meal and then we'll talk in private."

Clint responded by picking up his plate and putting it in the sink. "Done. And I want to get changed, so c'mon. Thanks again, June."

"You're not dealing, according to Jim. And you're not talking to him, either." Coulson barely waited for the door to shut, rushing to beat Clint to talking. "Your coping skills are non-existent, and the increase in rumors and stress around the Helicarrier aren't helping."

"I'm just dealing with a lot. But I'm working on it." Clint scowled as he pulled clean clothing out of his bag and started to get changed. "Okay?"

"Not okay." Coulson sighed. "Clint…look. It was either all this or pull your clearances, and probably mine, too. I wouldn't put it past Jim."

"He can try," Clint said. Finished buttoning up his shirt, he flopped on the couch next to Coulson. "But I don't have anything planned until after the semester is over, and that's just another couple weeks. After that I was hoping to sleep for a week and maybe spend some time at a different base."

"What about the fact that he says that you're not talking with him and that you're still not dealing well with Darla's death?"

"Because I am. I'm just not dealing the way that he expects me to. Yeah, I know she's dead. I'm not angry at her anymore, I'm not thinking that I'm hearing her voice anymore. So what if I don't want to go to Medical – I never really liked that place anyways." Clint slouched further back. "And not talking to him…I don't have the time. I've tried to make the time because yeah, he's been helping kinda, but when it comes down to studying for school or meeting with him? Lemme finish the semester and I'll start again."

"And Meg's worries?"

"She's right. But she also listens to Beeks and you and Doctor James. And she's busy because she's floating all over the place right now." Clint bent over and pulled on his shoes. "So there. If you had asked me, instead of assuming, I wouldn't be so pissed off right now."

"I'm sorry about not asking. Beyond not thinking, I don't know why I didn't until Beeks and Meg brought it up to me. You looked like you were fine. A little stressed, but it's been a long few months." Coulson slapped Clint's knee. "Although I do stand by the fact that if a kid's dose of that stuff knocked you out for almost a full day, you needed the rest."

"I won't argue that because no, I haven't been sleeping a lot but that wasn't because I couldn't, it was because I didn't have the time. And I'm gonna tell Meg that, too. Because she didn't ask me, either, and normally she doesn't just go along with what other people say." Clint stood up. "But because I slept all day, I'm going to go play with the kids and show people that I really am alive and you can call Beeks and tell him all this. Because like I said, I don't have the time."


"Airplane?" Clint asked doubtfully. "Never heard of it."

"You'll like it, Clint," Coulson said. "Honest. It's funny."

"Here." Dave held up a bottle and some glasses. "I have wine. Interested?"

Clint glanced over at Coulson before shrugging. "Sure, I'll try it. What's Airplane?"

"It's a comedy." Dave handed Clint a glass and poured a taste. "From about 15 years ago."

Clint sat down and took a careful sip of the wine. "Not…bad. Sweet." He held out his glass and waited until Dave had filled it.

"Good for dessert," June agreed as she knelt down in front of the VCR. "It's the Moscato, Dave?"

Clint stopped listening as the movie started and he relaxed further into his chair. "Huh?" His fingers itched for a pen and notepad so that he could write down all the questions he had. "Oh, parking zones."

"Clint, don't try to analyze it all, and most importantly don't talk, please." Coulson leaned closer and spoke in a low tone. "This really won't make much sense if you try to think about it logically."

Suddenly fascinated, Clint nodded. "Sorry." He couldn't hold back his laugh at how seriously the actors were taking everything. He was half aware of Dave refilling everybody's glasses, but was too involved in watching the movie and keeping quiet to say no.

He felt his laughter get louder. "Classified. Right."

"Hush, Clint." Coulson reached out and lightly slapped Clint's shoulder. "Keep it down."

"It's okay," June said. "We've seen this a few times."

"Dinner was fish or steak, and he had the lasagna?" Clint mumbled. "Don't get it."

"It's supposed to be absurd," Coulson said quietly. "It's a type of humor. I'll explain it later."

"No, think I got it." Clint let out a bark of laughter a few minutes later. "Like that."

"That's slapstick." Coulson mentally sighed when he saw how Clint had draped himself over the chair. Head on one armrest, feet on the other…"feet, Clint. Circus."

Clint was snickering. "His face…where they put the tube…a balloon smoking a cigarette!" He raised one foot. "Socks, Coulson. Not shoes. Stop being a nanny."

Coulson raised one eyebrow when Clint outright giggled at the end of the movie. "Hit the sheets, Clint. Want anything tonight?"

Clint carefully shook his head. "Think I'm good." He grinned brightly and lunged at June, wrapping her in a tight hug. "Thanks."

Dave chuckled as he tidied up. "I forget what it was like to be in your position, Clint. No kids, single…" he straightened up with a groan. "Three surgeries today. I feel old."

"Nah," Clint said. "I'm just nuts. And I liked the movie, too. Coulson, we're gonna have to find more like that. Night."

Coulson looked at the empty bottles of wine on the table as Clint left the room with another giggle. "I don't think the wine hurt, either. He doesn't drink much. Never really has."

"Oh." Dave nodded and laughed. "So, we were lucky that he was happy?"

"Very," Coulson agreed. "June," he continued, "I just want to say thank you again."

"Always. Thank you for asking, too; it's always nice to see the two of you." June nodded before turning to Dave. "And you're not old. Just don't try to keep up with your residents' stories! None of them have four kids, right?" She yawned. "Let's just put everything in the kitchen and I'll finish cleaning up in the morning. Phil, you and Clint were coming with us tomorrow, right?"

"Right." Coulson moved to pick up the glasses. "I'll take care of these for you, June."


"Choose, Agent Barton." The mechanical voice had Clint glancing around. "Choose one, and choose quickly."

"Huh?" Clint tried to move. He started breathing faster when he discovered that he was restrained. "What do you mean?"

A light shone into Clint's face and he winced. "Choose one, Agent Barton."

"Choose one what? I don't understand!" Clint tried to control his breathing. "A…book? A song? A weapon? My favorite Star Wars line? Choose what?"

"Choose one." Video screens appeared, showing people. Clint gulped when he realized what was on them. "Or they all die."

"No!" Clint lunged forward as much as his restraints would let him. "Not them…please, let them go. Please!"

"Choose." The voice repeated. "One, or none."

"I…" Clint trailed off. His eyes flashed from one screen to the next and he was suddenly glad that there wasn't any sound. Darla and Meg were both screaming, and he suspected the only reason that Coulson wasn't was that from the limpness of his body, he was unconscious. Or dead already. Another screen showed the two Beeks and Clint felt like throwing up at the sight. "Fucker!" He squeezed his eyes shut.

"One minute. Choose."

"Clint. Clint!" The voice wasn't supposed to be there. "Dammit Barton, wake up."

Coulson. Clint suddenly recognized the voice and sat up with a gasp. "Shit."

"Nightmare?" Coulson asked levelly as he sat down next to Clint. "About?"

"Meg. You. Darla," Clint panted. "Stuff. Shit. Why Darla? She's dead!"

Coulson lightly squeezed the back of Clint's neck. "Take a couple deep breaths and calm down. It's not real. That's good," he murmured as Clint obeyed. "Focus on my hand, Clint, not what was in the nightmare. This," he squeezed again, "is the real thing. My voice is the real thing. Good. Good. A little better now?"

"Clint?" The voice from the door had Clint feeling his stomach drop and he glanced at Coulson. "Are you okay?"

"Boss?" Clint asked. "We're at June's?"

"We're at June's. Woke up most of the house, too." Coulson glanced up at the door. "Well, not the older kids, I think. Julia for sure, maybe Tommy."

"Dave's putting them back to bed." June walked closer. "Clint? Are you okay?"

Clint moved to stand up. "I'll go," he muttered. "I can sleep in the car for the rest of the night 'n tomorrow head home."

"Did I say that you had to leave?" June put her hand on Clint's shoulder and sat down next to him. "So you had a nightmare. Everybody has them. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay." Clint jumped as June put her arm around his shoulders. "Need anything?"

"No." Clint tried to shrink smaller. "'M sorry for waking everyone up."

"We've had worse." June yawned. "Who are Meg and Darla?"

"Friends and mentors of his. Do you remember hearing about that military plane crash earlier in the year?" When June nodded, Coulson sighed. "It was a passenger flight and one of them was on it. There were no survivors. Clint, I don't blame you for being a little shook up if Darla was in your dream."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." June looked at Clint. "I'm sorry for your loss, Clint."

"S'okay." Clint shrugged, uncomfortable. "I'm dealing. Just not the way that people expect me to, but I'm okay." He slid out from under June's arm. "Do you mind if, um, I go sleep in the TV room? That's something that I've kinda found out, I sleep better after if I go someplace else."

"Of course. But you do realize that you might have the kids coming in?" June reached behind her and picked up a blanket. "There isn't a lock on that door and they usually watch TV on Sunday mornings. We've also got church at 11."

"Okay." Clint nodded and stood up. "Um, sorry again June. Coulson, can you-"

"Sure." Coulson nodded. "We can keep on talking. Thanks June, and sorry again."

"Not a problem." June yawned. "See you in the morning, then."

"I had to choose," Clint muttered as he slumped down on the couch and grabbed at the remote. "You or Darla or Meg or a few other people. And I had to, or else everybody would die."

"Ah." Coulson folded his arms across his chest. "And?"

"And what? That was it. It wasn't fun, it freaked me out, and they were torturing all of you, you and Meg and Darla and both Beeks and I really didn't need to see what they were doing to Meg or Darla or Marlene. You looked dead, and not like you were faking it either. Too limp."

"What were they doing?" Coulson asked quietly.

"Don't know what they were doing to you," Clint said. "You were just…bloody. And limp. Marlene…she was covered in blood and guts and Beeks was about the same. Meg and Darla…" Clint shuddered. "Do people do things like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like…like…" Clint gulped. "I can't talk about it. I can't. I woke up about to puke because of it." Clint's yawn took him by surprise. "But I'm going to watch some TV and try and sleep some more. Um, thanks sir."

"No problem. Thanks for telling me about it." Coulson reached out and gently ruffled Clint's hair. "And relax, Clint. If you're about to screw up here, somebody will let you know. Don't try to be a superhuman and be perfect. Be yourself. But…just watch your language, please? Although that's improved dramatically over the past couple years."

"Yeah." Clint closed his eyes. "I just don't want to mess everything up. I mean, I still don't have much in the way of skills if I do screw up."

Coulson sighed. "You're not going to screw up to that point, Clint. The only time that you were ever at risk of being fired was when you didn't pass the GED the first time. After that? Be hard, since I know you and you won't do things that would get you fired. So. Good?"

"Good." Clint nodded with another yawn. "Mostly. I'll try to remember that this time."

"You won't," Coulson snorted. "But I'll let you get back to sleep, because I need to get back to bed, myself."


Clint groaned and slowly raised a hand to swipe at his face. Suddenly aware of laughter, he cracked an eye open. "What?" He slowly asked.

"Julia," June choked out. "She...I…I have some makeup remover, let me go get it."

"Makeup remover?" Clint glanced around. "What happened?" He spotted Julia sitting in a corner, pouting. "Julia?"

"Make Unca Cint pretty," she whimpered. "Sorry! Sorry mama!"

Clint licked his lips. And stopped. "Ew. And 'pretty?' I don't get it?"

"Three-year-old. Lipstick accidentally left out. Unlocked room…" Coulson shrugged. "Can you do the math, or should I get you a mirror?" He jerked his head towards Julia. "She's been cleaned up, already, but you two were very much a matched set for a bit."

Clint narrowed his eyes at the suspicious twitch that he could see on Coulson's face. "Go ahead, laugh. I know you want to."

Coulson stopped holding back and bent over with a loud guffaw. "Sorry, Clint, but that's…really not your color. It worked on Julia, but not you."

Clint rubbed at his face before he had a mirror and a washcloth shoved in front of him. "Thanks," he said. "Um-" he stopped short when he saw the patterns drawn over his face in lipstick. "Is this a kid thing?"

June nodded, face bright with laughter. "Although normally they stick with themselves, not other people."

"Julia?" Clint glanced over at the toddler as he wiped at his face. "I'm not mad?" He looked up. "I'm not mad, right?"

"Only if you want to be." Coulson had gotten himself back under control.

Clint nodded. "Okay, then. You suck for laughing and, because I know you would have, for the pictures that you took. I'm not mad at Julia, not if she's just being a kid."

"Good." June frowned over at her daughter. "Julia, it's been five minutes, come give me a hug."

Clint watched as Julia practically rocketed across the room and latched onto June's legs. "Sorry, Mama! Not do 'gain!"

"Apologize to Clint, too." June gently pushed Julia towards the couch.

"Sorry, Unca Cint!" Julia looked close to tears as she climbed on the couch. "Sorry!"

Clint didn't know how to respond as he continued to scrub at his face. Coulson caught his eye and gave him a pointed glance. "S'okay Julia. Just, um, don't do it again?" Julia nodded, almost frantically Clint thought, before latching on to his arm.

"Just…just wanted pretty! Unca Cint sad!" Julia stared up at Clint's face, almost desperately Clint thought. "Sorry!"

"Well, now that that's all settled, breakfast will be ready in a little bit. Julia, come help me in the kitchen, please," June ordered as she turned to the door.

"No! Stay! Please?" Julia squeezed tighter. "Unca Cint?"

"I gotta go get dressed." Clint shook his head. "Go with your mom."

"Julia?" June's voice made Clint want to jump up and obey. "One…"

"No, Mama!"

"Two…"

"NO!" Clint winced at the screech right in his ear.

"Three." June stepped forward with an annoyed sigh. "What's gotten in to you this morning? First my lipstick all over the bathroom, yourself, and Clint, and now this? But I guess another time-out is called for. Let's go to your chair this time." She reached down and physically pulled Julia away from Clint. "Five minutes to think about why you don't tell mommy no." She rolled her eyes at Julia's wordless shriek. "And why we don't yell inside. Keep it up, and there won't be any Easter eggs."

"Did…did my nightmare last night and waking everybody up do that?" Clint stood up and looked at Coulson as June carried Julia out of the room.

"I don't know." Coulson shrugged. "It could be because she's three." He waited until Clint was at the door. "And Clint? Are you sure that you're dealing? I don't think you are. Not as much as you're claiming."

"Lemme lie to myself, boss." Clint didn't turn around, one hand raised. "Just until I'm done for the semester. Then I'll think about it."


Clint didn't think that he would become a regular at any church. It wasn't boring, exactly, but it was crowded and he couldn't understand what was going on. Almost enviously, he watched as Tommy and Julia were handed small coloring books and a few crayons and jumped when a puzzle book and pencil landed in his lap. "June?"

"You were looking bored," she whispered. "Normally I give that to Dave, but he'll just have to suffer today. Just remember to stand up and sit down with the rest of us."

"Thanks," Clint whispered back and lost himself in the word searches. He ignored Coulson's light chuckle. At the end of the service he hung to the back of their group and hurried out to the parking lot. Coulson followed. "That was…different."

"Learn about it," Coulson absentmindedly ordered. "You don't have to know everything, but you do have to know enough to blend in, if needed. Which means no playing games during the sermon."

"It was Dave's," Clint shot back. "So what does that say?"

"That you still need to learn how to sit through things that you don't understand or find boring." Coulson groaned and pulled out his pager. "Great. Stay here; I need to call in."

"I'm trying," Clint sighed as Coulson walked back towards the church. "But it's hard. And it's all part of growing up, I know that." He glanced up as Julia rocketed into his legs. "Heya, Julia." He dropped one hand and ruffled Tommy's hair. "What's next? Oh, Coulson had to go make a phone call."

"Easter eggs!" Tommy said excitedly. "The Easter Bunny hid them over there!" He pointed and grabbed at Clint's sleeve. "Come on, Uncle Clint!"

Clint pretended to stumble as Tommy pulled on his sleeve. "I'll catch up, I need to talk to Coulson first." Tommy nodded and ran off, and Clint glanced up as Coulson returned. "I'm getting tired of being called away because of work, boss."

"You've got time." Coulson shook his head. "But something's shook loose, and you're going to need to go and take care of it. This week, preferably."

"Okay." Clint glanced around. "Lemme…" he exhaled. "I know, boss, but I kinda want to stay until tonight, if that's okay? It's that thing with the scientists, right? That our guys wanted information on?"

Coulson nodded. "And like I said, you have some time. It's not like there's a jet heading our way right now; we can even stay until tomorrow like originally planned. And you had most of your plans worked out already, correct?"

"Yeah. They're in the car." Clint leaned back against the minivan. "The only question was location and if things were on paper or computer." He glanced over towards where a bunch of kids were running around a grassy area. "I want to hunt for some candy first. I always thought it looked like fun. And if we can leave this afternoon, I can spend the night prepping, and tomorrow we can head off, if you want to go call that in. Thanks." With a small grin, he hurried off.