Notes: Seriously. Clint Barton has a heart as golden as his hair. He's just... so amazing. I'm never going to be over this little duck fluff (probably why I'm doing this whole thing plus my other Avengers fics have always been Clint focused... but I digress). I love that his reaction to being scared is to be even more protective. Never change, Clint.

And oh yeah. You know that Jean was mentally fist-pumping and convinced that she won the little-boy-snuggles-lottery as soon as Clint held onto her like that. That was HUGE and he didn't even realize it.

(That seems to be the case for most of this story. Clint does things that the adults are going nuts over and he's just continuing on his way lol)

Chapter 12: When In Doubt, Stab 'Im

Half of the mansion had spent the evening after Creed's unexpected appearance watching movies and trying to help keep the appearance of calm for Clint — while the other half was monitoring all of their security systems and volunteering to join the watch, since Creed had a tendency to work around security systems when he shouldn't be able to.

It was almost normal for a warm summer evening, and the people on watch were being discreet about it at least — though that illusion was more or less shattered when Logan stepped in after hours hunting with nothing to show for it but about sixteen pounds of mud caked to him and almost obscuring the stripes on his uniform.

But when he got in, he didn't rush down to the locker room to clean up and change. Instead, he headed to the kitchen first to grab some water and clear his head. Where was, of course, where Clint was refilling his popcorn.

Logan grabbed some water and leaned against the counter as he almost chugged it, staring at a spot on the floor where the cabinets met the hardwood, not saying a word for the longest time. Until finally... "You alright?" he asked, clearly to Clint, since he was the only one there.

Clint looked up quickly and then nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," he promised. "Did you fall down a mudhole?"

"Nah, just tracked through a couple of 'em," Logan said. "Idiot still thinks a little mud'll hide his trail from me."

"Oh, you were going after that big guy, huh?" Clint said. "Everyone is still real mad he showed up here, even if they're pretending not to be around me." He rolled his eyes. "I'm not stupid"

Logan watched him for a long moment, weighing it out. "I don't know what they told you about him, but he's a thorn in my side as often as he can be."

"Yeah, Jean said you guys hate each other," Clint said. 'Cause he is mean to kids and girls."

"That's puttin' it lightly," Logan said before he took another long drink. "You an' I need to spend a little time, I think. You're gonna need a few tools to protect yourself for when that moron shows up again. Even if you leave the school, he'll be lookin' for your mom now."

Clint bit his lip as he nodded. "Yeah… I don't want him to hurt her," he said. "I never seen her scared like that except when the bad guys almost caught her."

"He works for the bad guys," Logan said as he pushed away from the counter. "When you wanna learn a few dirty tricks?"

"Anytime," Clint said, trying not to let his anticipation show. "I like learning stuff like that."

"Your mom said you can throw. Can you hit it as good with a knife as you do an arrow?"

Clint nodded quickly. "Yeah, I can. And with any knife — and I'm even okay with a hatchet — but not as good as my big brother."

Logan nodded again. "Why don't you meet me in my office? Gimmie a few minutes to change. I wanna see you throw."

"Okay," Clint said, nodding quickly. "I'll meet you there."

Logan dipped his head and headed for the stairs, almost at a jog before he hit the first step. He took his time, sure that Clint was going to get hung up handing his popcorn off, but when he showed up at his office with a box under his arm, the little boy was already waiting. "You got your knives?"

Clint grinned and nodded, showing Logan the little box of knives that K had gotten him. "I got some nice ones for Christmas, but they're back home."

"That's fine," Logan said. "I just want you to show me what you can do, then I'll give you something too." He gestured toward the hall. "We can set up a target in the Danger Room. And I can show you a few nasty tricks that'll help you if you can't run. But don't use 'em if you can get away."

Clint nodded seriously. "Yeah, he's real big and scary — and I'd rather get away with Mom," he said. "She said it's better to get away where you can't get hurt, because he won't be nice."

Logan nodded at that. "She's not wrong."

The walk down to the Danger Room was quiet, though Logan didn't miss the fact that Clint was nearly bouncing in place. "I'm sure everyone's told you to nail a big guy low," Logan said once they got do the Danger Room — and he'd finished barking out a few codes for a target range to appear. "Don't do that with him."

"But it works," Clint said. "I had a foster dad that I headbutted him in the nuts, and he let go fast."

Logan shook his head. "It doesn't work on him too well," Logan said. "Bounces back too fast. See .. he heals like I do."

"Oh." Clint frowned at that. "Okay. But… but that makes it hard to make stuff stick."

"It does," Logan agreed. "You can shoot him in the nuts, though. That's always worth a laugh."

"Yeah, arrows do more damage than my head."

"You know why, don'tcha?" Logan said with a smirk. "He's gotta pull 'em out."

"Ooh, yeah, Mom had to do that once with a knife and it was not fun," Clint said, making a face.

"Yeah, well … remind me to set you up with some special broadheads," Logan said. "I can get some that'll fly like a field tip until they make impact and expand."

Clint tried not to look too excited, but he was completely failing at it. "That would be really cool," he breathed out.

Logan set his box down and turned to Clint. "Show me what you do to make it stick. Hit me."

All of the excitement drained from his face as Clint froze. "Hit you?"

"Yeah, hit me." He waved him forward. "Come on. I can take it."

"Yeah, but… but I ain't mad at you…"

"I know," Logan said, letting his tone soften a little. "But I can't tell you how to make it worse if I don't know what you can do already."

Clint let out a breath and then nodded, squaring up his shoulders as he looked up at Logan. "Okay, well… I know it hurts even if you heal... so you just tell me if you wanna stop, okay? I don't wanna make you mad…" he said softly.

"You won't make me mad," Logan said. "I'm asking you to do this so I can make sure you can really drop someone if you need to. The more you can make it hurt, the more I'll know you're tryin'."

"Okay," Clint said, though it was obvious he was still a little wary when he started out — since he had put way more into it when they first met and he'd been trying to stop Logan from taking his mom.

But when Logan kept encouraging him to work harder — and even giving him tips on how to make it worse — Clint started to put more into it, until he was really giving it his all, trying to keep up with Logan's instructions.

"Better," Logan said after a long session. "You up to throwin', or are you done?"

"No, I wanna show you my knives!" Clint said quickly, though he was red-faced. "I'm real good — I can do the kind that flies fast and the kind that's showy for circus acts and stuff!"

"I'm not interested in anything showy," Logan said. "Just show me what you can do. And make it stick hard."

Clint grinned at that and nodded — though he couldn't help but show off anyway now that they had gotten to the part that he knew he was good at. "Watch this," he told Logan with a crooked grin before he spun on his heel and simply attacked the target — making an 'x' with the knives. "See? X for X-Men!"

Logan smirked and nodded. "Nice." He made his way over to the box he'd brought and then handed Clint a longer knife that looked a lot like the hunting knife K kept up at the cottage. "Show me how you do with longer ones. The balance is gonna be off, too."

Clint nodded. "Lemme practice a few times, and I'll get used to it. And then I'll be throwing bullseyes every time; you'll see," he promised.

"Sure, but I wanna just see how you do from your gut," Logan said. "Whip it."

"O-kay," Clint said with a shrug before he played with the knife a bit, nodded to himself, and threw it hard and fast toward the target — a bit to the left but still pretty well-centered. "Mom had us practice with lots of weapons," he told Logan, clearly pleased with himself with how well he was throwing.

Logan's expression was a little more open than it had been before as he thought it over. "Two more, just like it," he said, handing them over. "Don't think about it. Just do it."

"No thinking; I can do that," Clint teased before he tossed the next two as well, grinning to himself. "This is kinda fun. What else you got?"

"Just something I want you to keep on you," Logan said as he went back to the box. He took the bottom out of the box and set it aside before he took out a smaller but heavy knife that looked almost military. "These aren't very common," Logan said as he turned toward Clint and held the knife out to him hilt first, with the blade resting on his wrist.

Clint took the knife carefully, his eyes wide. "I never seen one like this," he said, playing with the balance a little as he examined it.

"That's because the metal only comes from Russia," Logan told him. "But it's a little fragile, so you can't throw it unless you need to." He waited until Clint looked up at him. "If you aim true ... hell, even if you don't … that knife will break off if you stick a guy with it. And even Creed won't be able to chase you down too good with that blade lodged in him."

Clint was wide-eyed. "Yeah… yeah, that makes sense," he said. 'Cause there's a knife in him, and he can't heal with a thing in him."

"No," Logan said, shaking his head slowly. "The blade is made out of carbonadium. And something about that metal stops all healing in people that heal fast."

When Clint realized what he had in his hands, he stopped and stared at Logan with his mouth parted. "But… but that means… that means you could get hurt real bad even with your powers!"

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be the first time," Logan said. "More important that you can protect yourself."

Clint stared at Logan, still frozen. "And you're gonna give it to me? Even though it can hurt you?"

Logan nodded at that. "It can protect you if you use it. So yeah. Why the hell wouldn't I?"

"Because… because you're kissing my mom and I said you — I said I'd hit you if you — you gave me a thing that can kill you!" Clint said, looking at Logan in pure awe and confusion.

"You need it to cover your back, kid," Logan said. "And I told you I'm not gonna hurt her. I'm not worried about it."

Clint set the knife down on top of the box for a moment before he simply darted forward and gave Logan a hug that lasted as long as it took him to blink in surprise. "Thanks," he muttered, red-faced as he went back to the box to grab up the knife again.

"Don't play with it, and don't let it be seen," Logan said. "Your best shot with that thing is still if he doesn't know you got it." He let out a breath as he made his way toward the target to pull out the knives stuck there. "And hopefully, he won't get anywhere close enough for you to have to worry about it."

"And you'll get mad at him if he comes even close to this school, huh?"

"Clint, I'm mad that he's still breathin'," Logan said. "Worst case, I know when I can find him."

Clint smiled at Logan quietly. "Then you must be mad a lot, 'cause breathing goes on forever," he teased.

"Over a hundred years, so far," Logan said.

"A hundred years?"

"Far as I can figure, yeah."

"That's a real long time," Clint said, his eyes wide. "I'm only seven. My dad and his dad don't even go back that far!"

"Which'd make it all the more impressive if you were the one to nail that creep, even if I wanna do it myself."

Clint smirked. "I bet I could," he said. "I bet I could hit him right between the eyes. Or right in the heart. K showed me how to aim there too."

"That's a better bet with that blade. Skull might be too hard."

"Oooh, yeah, I didn't think about that," Clint said with a nod. "That's a good idea. I'll do that."

Logan shook his head as he packed up the box. "Keep practicing. You'll be fine. But don't go lookin' for trouble. Let the team do their thing."

Clint nodded quickly. "Yeah, I got it. Let the grown ups do their job," he said quickly. He leaned forward with a smirk. "Jean made me tell Scott what happened, and he was as red as his glasses, so I think you're not the only one who's mad."

"I still got first shot," Logan said easily.

"Unless I beat you there," Clint said.

Logan turned his way. "Doesn't that go against 'lettin' the grown ups do their thing'?"

"You're not a grownup; you're my mom's guy," Clint said. "That's different."

Logan blinked a few times, trying to figure that one out. "How?"

"I dunno; it just is. Family rules are different than normal grownup rules, I think."

"Well, I'm oldest; still callin' it," Logan said.

"Now you sound like Barney," Clint said, sticking his tongue out.

"I don't know Barney," Logan said easily.

"Well, we're gonna go see him later when we don't got so many bad guys after us," Clint said. He shook his head. "He's probably real worried, but we don't want him to get in trouble."

"Maybe we can figure that part out anyhow," Logan offered. "Ways around 'em."

"Mom said she was gonna dress up as a witch for Halloween so people wouldn't recognize her," he said. "She's real smart."

"She is," Logan agreed. "But I got other ways, too."

"Okay, well, if we ain't got rid of him and the other bad guys by Halloween, we can do other stuff too," Clint said.

"How about you find out how much of that movie you missed?"

Clint nodded, clutching his knife a little more. "Yeah. Thank you. Again. For the knife and stuff."

"No problem," Logan said before they parted ways once again.

The next morning at breakfast, Clint came down a little after his mom, as usual. But this time, he took his cereal to the end of the table and planted himself in the seat between his mom and Logan, smirking up at both of them before he set to eating his breakfast — perfectly content right where he was.

Which was a small but totally unusual thing for him, considering how much berth he had been giving Logan until that point.

Logan and K both didn't act like there was a thing unusual about it either, going about their business as usual — even as Jean openly watched the three of them. Finally, her curiosity was too much to ignore, but with Clint right there, she decided to keep the conversation telepathic as she reached out to Logan.

I see you and Clint are getting along better now, she said, completely unable to keep the pleasure out of her voice, even mentally.

Don't know what you're talkin' about, Jeannie.

Oh, don't give me that. I've never seen him that comfortable around you! That's a great sign!

Which sign is that? The one that says you're not stickin' your nose in it or the one that says the kid's just finally relaxin' a little?

Jean gave him a dry look. Oh come on. I'm allowed to be excited. I know as well as you do how hard it is for him to 'relax a little' around men especially — and someone who's kissing his mom? I mean, just yesterday, he was complaining about you and the kissing.

Probably just spent a little too much time with your other half.

Jean rolled her eyes. Logan, come on. I know you like her. This is great. I know it's got to be a little more complicated with a little boy involved, and now he's relaxing. That's good.

Jeannie ... I don't know what you want from me here.

I'm just… I'm just excited to see one of my dearest friends finding someone in his life, okay? She paused and then flashed him a smile. And if him warming up to you means they're more inclined to stay and I can keep teaching him math…

You know … you're not nearly as subtle as you like to think you are, Logan said. Never wanted to say anything about it before, but … you need to work on it.

Jean smirked at him. I'll consider it.

I think you're jumpin' the gun a little there, too. Couple stolen kisses isn't exactly the way you're paintin' it up.

If you say so, Logan.

"Miss Jean, I dunno who you're talking to, but you're giving it away when you're making faces," Clint informed Jean, cutting across the telepathic conversation and earning a smirk out of more than a few of the people around them — who were used to Jean's antics by then.

"He's right, you know," K said without looking up from the book she was reading.

"You're not the only one giving me advice on being subtle today," Jean said, shooting Logan a look before she smiled Clint's way. "Are you doing better this morning?"

Clint nodded. "Yeah, I'm good," he promised. "I'm gonna practice knives today. I'm real good, so you can see if you want. I can show you how I make 'em spin!"

"That sounds great," Jean said, looking between Clint and Logan for a moment. "Maybe you can show me how to do that too."

"You bet," Clint said, grinning widely. "It's fun! We can do it after math, okay?"

"That's perfect," Jean agreed, shooting a little look Logan's way before she simply refilled her coffee and settled in with Scott. Maybe Logan wasn't ready to acknowledge it yet, but Jean was absolutely sure that this was a good thing.

And in her opinion, it was about time.