Kirsi

by Susan M. M.

The Avengers

based on a challenge/prompt by Sheneya at "Avengers Fanfic Challenges and Recommended Reading"

Standard Fanfic Disclaimer that wouldn't last ten seconds in a court of law: Based on characters and situations created by somebody else (other than Kirsi Lokidottir, who's mine). All other characters {beyond minor NPCs} are from the Marvel Cinematic Universe and used without permission and without any hope or chance of financial profit. Just in case anybody has any doubts, I do not own the Avengers. To paraphrase Aggie2011, if I owned the Avengers, Joss Whedon and J. Michael Straczynski would be collaborating on the Hawkeye/Black Widow movie right now. Ten thousand thanks to Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, Joss Whedon, Tom Hiddleston, Jeremy Renner, Marvel Comics, Disney Studios, et al. This story is debuting as 'netfic and has not previously been printed in any fanzine or APA. Please don't sue. I'm too broke to pay attention, let alone legal fees.

Challenge: Loki had a daughter. He brought her with him during the Earth invasion, thinking he was going to win. He spent so much time on trying to take over, he usually dumped her on MindSlave!Hawkeye to look after. After his defeat, it's revealed that due to an ancient Asgard law, now that Loki's going to prison, Hawkeye is her legal guardian. How will he cope with going from a solitary person, to looking after the child of the man who used him so badly? Not to mention the well meaning, but not always usable, help of his fellow Avengers.

Kirsi

by Susan M. M.

Barton unlocked the door and stepped inside the apartment. Kirsi followed. He glanced at their new quarters. The living room was big, bigger than his first apartment had been.

"Pepper said she and Tony made sure we had all the toys."

Barton nodded. Yep, all the toys. There was a king-size entertainment center against the left wall, with a flat screen TV, DVD/Blu-Ray player, VCR, radio, record player, CD player, cassette player, even an eight-track player. And a Wii system. There were shelves, nearly empty except for a few Disney DVDs. Waiting for him to fill them with movies, music, and games, he guessed.

A few feet away stood an empty bookshelf. It looked naked, standing there without any books. Barton eyed the rest of the furniture: a coffee table with a vase of flowers on it, a red couch and matching loveseat, a wooden rocking chair in the corner. They looked comfortable. In the other corner was a computer desk with a computer. There was a counter toward the back of the room, dividing the living room from a kitchenette.

He didn't feel brave enough to examine the kitchenette yet. He glanced at the living room walls. There were doors in both the left and the right walls, leading to his bedroom and to Kirsi's room. The right wall had a large framed mirror above the couch, and a few feet away from the mirror hung a vaguely-Impressionistic looking painting of a white cottage behind rosebushes. Red roses, to match the couch cushions. Knowing Stark, it probably was a Monet or a Renoir instead of a copy.

"This is my room, Barton," Kirsi pointed to the right-hand door, "and that is yours."

Barton opened the left-hand door and took a peek. The walls were tan. There was a double bed, with a brown bedspread. A chest of drawers, a desk and chair, with a laptop on the desk. One eyebrow went up. It was a brand new laptop, and not a cheap model, either. He stepped inside for a closer look. An empty weapons rack on one wall. There was a door at the front of the room, that opened directly into the hallway; he could come and go without going through the living room. There was another door at the back, probably a bathroom or a walk-in closet. And on the wall ... Barton's jaw dropped. "Stark, you have a warped sense of humor."

Six posters hung on the wall. Errol Flynn as Robin Hood, Conrad Phillips as William Tell, Orlando Bloom as Legolas, Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen, Michael Praed as Robin Hood and Pixar's Merida. Barton didn't know whether to laugh or swear.

"Come see my room, Barton," Kirsi called. "Pepper helped me arrange it."

Leaving the problem of the TV and movie archers for later, he left his room, strode across the living room, and stepped into his ward's bedroom. He could tell Pepper had helped her furnish and decorate it. It looked like the sort of room Pepper would have wanted for herself when she was a girl, if she'd been able to afford it. One wall had mural wallpaper (a mountain lake surrounded by evergreens); the other walls were painted green, to match the trees. The canopy bed was white. So were the dresser, the chest of drawers, the bookcase, and the desk. Her harp stood in the corner, next to a wooden stool. Two stuffed animals and two dolls sat on top of the dresser. A third doll lay on the bed. He recognized the dolls: the two on the dresser were Rapunzel from Tangled and Merida from Brave. The one on the bed was the doll she'd brought from Asgard. On top of the bookcase was a framed picture of Loki. Barton scowled at the sight of it, but said nothing. He was her father.

"I have my own bathing chamber!" Kirsi informed him.

Barton glanced around. Her room didn't open onto the hallway. She would have to come and go through the living room, which would make it easier to keep track of her. Of course, Jarvis would help with that.

Kirsi threw open the door in the back of the room. At least Barton knew now that it was a bathroom and not a walk-in closet in the back of his room. He gave the bathroom a cursory glance. It was pink, very pink, with more flowers than he could count.

Despite himself, he was impressed. Stark - or rather, his people - had thrown this together very quickly. The suite was more than he had expected. And Stark had hinted that this was only temporary, that as the building was refurbished and repaired, each of the Avengers would be given their own floor, not just their own apartment.

Hearing a knock, Barton hurried back to the living room. Kirsi trailed behind him. He opened the door.

A tall man with reddish blonde hair stood there, a blonde girl beside him. "Hi, Scott Lang." He stuck out his hand, and Barton shook it. "This is my daughter, Cassie. We're your neighbors."

"Clint Barton." He felt a little odd giving his real name to a stranger. "This is Kirsi."

Cassie smiled. "Hi."

"Just wanted to welcome you to the building."

"Thanks." Barton hadn't expected a welcome wagon, and he wasn't sure what came next.

"Do you want to see my new room?" Kirsi asked.

"Sure." Cassie squeezed past Barton into the living room and followed Kirsi into her room.

"Cassie," her father started to scold her, then gave up. "Kids."

"C'mon in." Barton opened the door a little wider.

"You new to New York, or just to Stark Towers?" Lang asked.

"Just the building. I'd offer you a beer, but I haven't gone shopping to stock the kitchen yet. Just moved in."

"I can tell you where the stores are, the fast food - Cassie knows what toy every Happy Meal at every chain is offering at any given time - the parks with the best vendor carts. Or you can have the Stark Industries cafeteria send down meals already cooked, but that can get a little expensive after a bit," Lang explained. He glanced around, surprised by the lack of boxes.

Barton suspected that Jarvis could arrange for him to get meals for free, but he didn't say that aloud. " 'Preciate that."

"I'm an electronics engineer. I work in the seventh floor R&D lab. You?"

"Security."

The two girls came running out of Kirsi's room. "Daddy, can Kirsi come to our place and watch a DVD? Please?"

"Please, Barton? May I?" Kirsi looked up appealingly at her guardian, her green eyes begging.

"I don't mind watching them for a couple hours," Lang volunteered. "It'll give you a chance to unpack, or stock up, or whatever you need. Moving is a pain in the -" He glanced at the girls. "A pain in the neck."

Barton nodded. "Okay, you can go."

"Anything she's allergic to, or not allowed to eat?" Lang asked.

Barton hesitated. He didn't know if Asgardians could be harmed by Earth food. "I'd prefer if she had milk or juice. She's turning into a CocaCola-holic."

"I can handle that. I swear, we buy apple juice by the metric tonne." Lang opened the door. Directly across the hallway an attractive brunette was inserting a key in a lock. "Hi, Darcy."

"Oh, hi, Scott."

"Darcy Lewis, this is our new neighbor, Clint Barton, and Kirsi, his daughter? Niece?"

"Niece," Barton fibbed. Lewis was very pretty, and vaguely familiar.

Darcy nodded. "Nice to meet you." She opened her door and slipped into her apartment.

"We'll be right next door," Lang promised. He shepherded the girls next door.

As Barton returned to his new apartment, he suddenly remembered why Darcy Lewis looked so familiar. She wasn't a Playboy centerfold model - although she had the figure for it. He'd seen her before, in New Mexico. She was Jane Foster's assistant.