Apologies for the lateness of this update! Life's been crazy and all.
A few updates: I'm in college now! I'm a dorm baby...going to get starte don my cinema major. The bad news is updates might be a little erratic; the GOOD news is I have a laptop now! It's a Macbook and I'm so happy and now I can write again and I'm thinking of naming it Petey (My friend suggested Quicksilver and I can never say Pietro right so there comes Petey). So yeah. Hopefully I'll update frequently.
Disclaimer: I owneth not Age of Ultron.
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Clint frowns as he peers over his wife's shoulder, hands coming to rest in a protective circle around her protruding stomach. With all children either playing in their rooms or becoming quietly acquainted with the upstairs of the house, the kitchen is blessedly silent for a few treasured moments as Laura prepares dinner. He rests his chin on her skin, leaning his head against the base of her neck. "Hey babe?"
"Mmm," she hums, continuing to chop the pepper in her hand in an entirely nonchalant manner, though he can feel her muscles relax beneath her.
"You know I have total faith in your cooking and I love the food you put on our table, but is that going to be enough?"
Laura's eyebrows raise as she casts a glance at the chicken sizzling on the stove. Strewn about the counter are cutting boards, knives, vegetable peelings, spices, a toy car, and plastic wrappers. "I made more than twice the amount I usually do."
Clint gnaws his lip. "Well…"
Laura huffs a sigh, but he can tell she's not mad by the slight play at the corner of her lips. "Spit it out, Hawkeye."
"We do have a growing male teenager in the house, now."
"I know. Which is why I made double."
"Have you just not had enough time to go to the store? We have that big ole' check, might as well use the damn thing," Clint muses, but he's distracted by a tuft of hair at the back of her neck. He nips at it, nuzzling the soft skin at the base of her skull, and suddenly becomes very disinterested in the present conversation at hand.
"Big check?" Laura stops cutting and turns her hand, thereby rendering his attempts at sexual stimulation by hair-nuzzling null. "What check?"
He moves to the side to meet her gaze, hands roaming absently about her abdomen. "Did I not tell you?"
She laughs and gently bops his nose with a calloused finger. "I think I would know about a 'big ole' check'," she subtly mocks him, and he's tempted to just push her on to the counter then and there. Foregoing pleasanter fantasties, he fishes in his pocket and withdraws a piece of folded paper, scowling at the writing on its surface.
"Guess I forgot."
"What is it?" she enquires, wiping setting down the knife and wiping her hands on a towel as she turns to face him.
"Resources allocated us for the clothing, feeding and care of the enhanced we are entrusted with," he reports, allowing her to take the check from his hands. "That's S.H.I.E.L.D.'s explanation, anyway."
Laura's eyes travel the paper, lips barely moving as she recites the contents silently. Her mouth drops as she sees the sum. "What?!"
Clint shrugs.
"That is a lot of zeroes."
Clint shrugs again.
"Are you sure that they didn't forget a decimal point in there?"
"It's the government, my dear."
Laura's eyes travel to a large white folder on the counter, every piece of paper neatly tucked away within. "That makes Doctor Cho's instructions about Pietro's diet much less scary." Then, her eyes light up and she sends him a mischievous sidelong glance. "But, it's their first day here and I am out of chicken breast." Her hands snake around his back and travel down to his rear, and he starts to get really excited until she withdraws his phone from his back pocket. "We're going to need a pizza or two. Or maybe five."
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"Knock knock," Laura says, carefully pushing the door to Wanda's room open slightly. Wanda looks up from her perch on the bed, her fingers intertwined with each other. She seems surprised to see the pregnant woman carrying a large bundle of blankets. "I brought an extra blanket for you. Sometimes it gets chilly at night, around here."
Wanda murmurs a thank you and takes the soft blanket into her hands, pale fingers tracing nonexistent designs in the fabric.
"Are you settled in okay?" Laura asks, casting a glance around the room. Her jacket is hung in the closet, her backpack hanging behind the door. Her careworn boots neatly sit beside her bed. The room is as as spic and span as when Laura had finished cleaning it the ay before, and she's somewhat surprised. Shouldn't there be..something else? She knows the twins are the result of years worth of research, but come on. Teens are meant to be messy.
"Do all of your clothes fit in the dresser?"
Wanda shifts, eyes flicking downward. "I do not hef much, so yes, thank you. They fit well."
Laura frowns. "Not much as in...how much?"
Wanda shrugs and weaves her fingers in the fringe on the edge of her blanket, long, tapered fingers rubbing the fabric between her fingers. "You may look."
Laura crosses to the dresser and peers in the top drawer. A few pairs of underwear and some soft pants. In the drawer beneath, two shirts, a tank top and a pair of black jeans. The rest are empty, and when she opens the closet there hangs a dress and a jacket. Aside from these paltry items, the spaces are devoid of clothing.
Laura is appalled.
"Honey! Why didn't you say something?"
Wanda looks taken aback. "I-I do not think-"
Laura interrupts her by taking the fat check from S.H.I.E.L.D. and waving it in her face. "You see this? This is your ticket to a nice, big, comfy, colorful closet." She eyes Wanda's deep red and black outfit. "You need some green."
Wanda looks pleased, a light blush dusting her features. "Is...is okay?" she ventures, and Laura smiles in return.
"Don't be afraid to ask for anything you need. That's why you're here."
The enhanced ducks her head, but a small smile still quirks the edges of her lips. Laura smiles as she observes the long hair that brushes over the slim figure, the dark lips, the heavily-lashed dusky eyes and fair skin. The Sokovian is beautiful, and Laura plans on ensuring, while she is under her roof, that she knows it.
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Wanda softly pads through the living room, her socked feet soundless as she crosses the floor. Her arms circle her torso protectively, her loose t shirt flopping against her slender frame in the deep shadows of the night. "Brata," she calls softly, approaching the frame standing against the sink. He peers into the night, watching the soft breeze toss the leaves on the trees as he sips from a cup of water. As she calls for him, he turns his head over his shoulder.
"Huh?"
She shivers as she steps beside him, rubbing her hands over her arms. Almost by instinct, he pulls her closer to his side, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Is good, da?"
Wanda lays her head on his shoulder, allowing herself to pause from the busy day. Taking in a deep breath and closing her eyes, her worries seem to fade away slowly into the distance.
"Mmm," she says in agreement. "Is...is good."
From far away, hidden in the deep shadows of the seclustered family room, Clint and Laura watch the two silently. His large hands encircle the swell of her stomach, pulling her deep into the warmth of his torso.
"How do you think they'll like it here?"
Clint pauses before answering. "I think they'll like it just fine."
Wanda thinks so too.
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Sorry not a lot happened in this chapter; hopefully by next chapter the setup will be done and the fun things will begin. Keep sending in requests! And thank you for all the support. Love you pooches.