Notes: So, griezz, for some reason this site only just sent me the email alerts for your reviews? idk. Sometimes the site is weird about communicating with the app. Just wanted to let you know I'm not ignoring you and that I got, like, seven notifications for your reviews this morning. So weird!
Chapter 15: A Pirate and a Thief
Clint absolutely loved his first lesson with Kurt. It was nothing like what little he'd seen of Jacques and Barney learning together — or even Miranda and Barney. Kurt talked about swords like he was looking for a way to make even more trouble just by talking about them, and Clint really liked his outlook.
He wasn't surprised at all that the lesson had started out with safety basics, making sure that Clint knew how to handle the sword… but hey, that had been true of all his weapons classes.
But after that, Kurt showed him a few basics — thrusts and parries and basic forms — before at the very end of the lesson, Kurt offered to show off. And Clint knew that he was an acrobat and needed to show off, so he agreed and ended up loving the Danger Room simulation that Kurt pulled up.
It was all pirates and high seas, and even though Clint wasn't fighting as much because he was watching Kurt do the fighting, he did get to hang out in the crow's nest.
"Can we do one with me fighting pirates that are my skill level next time too?" Clint asked. "I mean… maybe not next time. Maybe if I'm better at fighting ... maybe when I can fight and not just swing the swords around, right?"
"Oh, certainly," Kurt agreed. "There's no sense in just practicing form. You need to actually use it."
Clint smiled at that. "That's not what my brother's teachers say," he said. "They say form is most important… but they're performers…"
"Well," Kurt said low. "It is, but … sometimes, you have to sacrifice form to get the job done too."
"You mean sometimes you gotta fight dirty," Clint said with a crooked grin. "I already know how to do that."
"Yes, of course," Kurt laughed. "But don't bring up dirty swords with Logan. Dirty tricks, sure. Dirty swords? Never."
"But he said he wanted me to learn dirty stuff," Clint said with his nose wrinkled up. "Cuz I'm so little."
"And he sent you to me for sword work," Kurt said, smiling.
"Well, yeah, because you do, like three and that's a lot," Clint said, smiling to match him.
"I'm surprised you didn't want to learn his style instead, though," Kurt said.
"I don't got knives in my hands, Kurt; I can't learn that."
Kurt burst out laughing at that. "No, he's a samurai — didn't he tell you that?"
Clint stopped outright to stare at Kurt. "You're kidding me."
"No! He went through all the training when he lived in Japan years and years ago."
"No way!" Clint grinned at him. "I wanna see that! I wanna know that stuff too and — and how come he didn't tell me that?"
"He didn't tell us at first either," Kurt admitted. "But his swords are upstairs …"
"I wanna see!"
Kurt laughed at that and nodded. "He holds the honor sword for clan Yashida still — they're the second most powerful family in Japan — just after the Emperor."
"Oh wow," Clint said, his eyes wide. "Oh wow."
Kurt grinned and offered Clint his hand. "Shall we go see what he's up to?"
"Yes, let's!" Clint agreed, grabbing Kurt's hand and unable to stop the slight bounce of excitement.
Of course, Logan was up in the garage, working on his bike with the radio going and a beer within reach as he changed the oil this time. "You two on a field trip?" Logan asked without looking their way.
"You never told me you were a samurai!" Clint blurted out.
"You didn't ask," Logan said without missing a beat.
"How was I gonna know I needed to ask about something like that?" Clint said. "That is so cool!"
Logan shrugged. "Just is what it is," he said. "Didn't think anyone cared about that kind of thing. Not as flashy as some of the stuff Kurt does."
"You're a samurai, though," Clint said. "A real live samurai!"
"Not what you were expectin' huh?" Logan asked, peeking up at him as he pushed back from the bike.
"Well, no, but still." Clint grinned at him. "I wanna see — I didn't know you knew that stuff!"
"When it comes to weapons and fighting, I know just about all there is to know," Logan replied.
"That is really, really cool," Clint said.
Logan headed over to the sink in the garage and started to wash up. "You said you wanted to see. What … what'd you have in mind?"
"Well, Kurt said you got samurai swords and stuff…"
"I do, but they're not ... " He looked up at Kurt. "You're not supposed to unsheathe 'em unless you're gonna use 'em."
Clint let out a sigh. "Okay, I guess I can wait and see 'em when we're fighting bad guys or something," he said.
"Oh, come on, Logan," Kurt said with a smile. "If you have to use them, why not use them to show him a few moves, then?"
"Aren't you teachin' him?" Logan asked as Kurt made his way closer with Clint and then simply teleported them up to Logan's room.
"Ah, but I like to share my pupils," Kurt laughed. "Let them see the world…."
Clint looked around the room — at the neatly kept and immaculate setup and at the swords hanging on the wall. None of it was what he was expecting, but he brushed past the room itself to look wide-eyed at the far wall. "Is that a samurai sword?"
Logan let out a sigh. "All of them are," Logan said as he gestured to the matched set of three — all of them with blue silk wrapped around the hilt, though the fourth one looked entirely different, with red silk and gold chrysanthemum inlay that seemed to glow even in the lower light of in the room.
"They look really… nice," Clint said.
Logan looked over to Kurt, who was clearly encouraging it, before he made his way to the set of three and pulled down the katana there. He only drew it back a few inches so Clint could see part of the blade. "It's about 800 years old. Still sharp as a razor."
"Oh wow," Clint breathed out.
"The other one is older."
"Older than eight hundred years?" Clint asked, looking like his head might explode.
Logan nodded at that as he put the sword in his hands back where it belonged. "That's the Yashida honor sword. Passed down from one samurai to the next since the beginning of the family."
"That sounds like something out of a book," Clint said.
"It is," Logan agreed. "But it doesn't change what it is."
Clint nodded quietly, still staring up in awe at Logan and the swords before he simply started to grin and drew his shoulders up. "You're really cool, you know that?"
"You're easily impressed," Logan replied with one eyebrow raised.
"Yeah, okay, but I'm right," Clint said, not about to be deterred.
"Yes, yes you are," Kurt chuckled.
Logan shook his head with a little laugh. "So, is this what the lesson was today?"
Clint shook his head. "No, we learned safety, and we learned some basic forms — you wanna see?" he offered, clearly excited to show off.
"Sure," Logan said.
With that, Clint simply seized both of them, letting Kurt teleport them down to the Danger Room so Clint could show off.
For the next several days, it was clear that everyone in the institute was in much better moods — helped along by the fact that there was now an almost daily dose of a delighted, laughing Clint, usually running around with Sicem playing pirates, spurred on by Kurt, Kitty, Jubilee… really, anyone who was there to play along. Mostly Kurt, though.
But there was something else for the group to grin over after Scott and Jean got the official word from Hank — and really, Jean couldn't wait any longer than that before she started to share the news with those in the mansion who didn't have the advantage of cheating with enhanced senses.
Storm insisted on taking Jean and several of the other ladies of the X-Men out for a celebration, which left the men at the institute to get Scott drunk too, just because, as Kurt insisted, "it's tradition."
Clint had been a little nervous when he heard what the plans were, but when he heard how much laughter was going on down in the game room, he couldn't help but get curious enough to poke his head in — to find that everyone there was joking around and having a good time. Bobby and Hank were on either side of Scott goading him into more drinking, and Scott was grinning wider than Clint had ever seen him grin. Ever.
And there was a game of pool going on that Kurt was losing terribly to Logan. And Remy and Piotr were clearly trading money over some bet or another. It was much more boisterous and fun than Clint had expected, and he found himself cautiously peeking in a little more to see the show.
By that time, Kurt had admitted defeat — and had gone to go get more whiskey for himself and Logan — but Clint climbed up to sit close by where Logan was. Charles was close by watching the whole thing, and Clint gave him a little wave but didn't sit by him, doing more or less the same thing Charles was doing and taking it all in. He couldn't help but smile, almost disbelievingly, because he was so shocked by just how much these guys were grinning and laughing and even though the smell of alcohol was strong enough it had Clint nervous… no one there was getting upset. Not even when Logan wiped the floor with anyone playing him in pool.
"Wanna beat a few of these guys?" Logan asked Clint as he leaned against the back of the couch. "Even if you've never played, you'd cream 'em."
"That's 'cause they're drunk," Clint pointed out.
"So make it fair and do it with your eyes closed," Logan chuckled.
Clint grinned and shook his head. "Well… I'm not really tall enough to play," he said. "Maybe if I get another growth spurt. Mom says I'm due 'cause I been tripping a lot."
"It's alright," Bobby called out happily over Scott's shoulder, where they were still encouraging more drinking. "Logan's not tall enough to play either!" he added, which just had Scott bursting out laughing, hard enough that Bobby couldn't hold him up with how much he was leaning on him.
Logan shook his head at that though. "Gonna get it, popsicle."
"For being right?"
"I'd like to see you try original now and again," Logan said as he set up the next game.
Bobby snerked at that, though he was still helpful enough to ice up a step stool for Clint if he needed it. "There ya go. Shark him, Clint!"
Clint smiled as he climbed up so he could see the setup. "Okay, so… so this is kinda like… like aiming. I seen you and Kurt play it, but I don't know how you get points and stuff."
"It's just angles," Logan said. "Don't worry about the points to start with. Just play stripes or solids and try to clear your half first. Don't sink the eight ball."
Clint nodded, then glanced up at where the others were still laughing over something. "I don't think I ever seen Scott laugh like that," he said as Logan handed him a cue.
"That's because you've never seen him relax before," Logan said dryly.
"Well, I'm glad he and Jean are gonna have a baby," he said in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone.
"Yeah, why's that?" Logan asked, chalking up his cue.
"Well, then Jean'll have somebody else to gush all over, and she won't be all gooey over just me all the time, so I might get some time to myself," Clint said with a shrug.
Logan chuckled at that and nodded. "Not a bad reason."
Clint grinned. "She needs babies, Logan. Real bad. She's — she's like those ladies — those foster moms that everyone wanted to get because you could tell they wanted kids so bad."
"She was circlin' you pretty hard, wasn't she?" Logan said with a smirk.
Clint rolled his eyes. "I betcha if I hadn't come in with my mom, she'd'a tried to put her name on me."
"In a heartbeat," Logan agreed before he tipped his head toward Scott. "Then he'd be your new Dad. Goofy thing."
Clint stuck his tongue out. "Nah, that's okay. I like having just me and my mom. He's already like this with just the one kid, and I got a brother."
"Yeah, he'd be way too sappy on the two of you," Logan said.
Clint shrugged. "Well, their baby'll like it 'cause it'll be theirs, so you know… whatever."
"And it won't know any better," Logan said where he knew Clint could read his lips.
Clint snorted at that and nodded. He waited for Logan to break, since he wanted to see it done, and he was quiet for a bit as he focused on trying to play, but once he had the hang of it, he looked up to see that Remy and Kurt were trading money. "You can't bet on me an' Logan — it's my first game!" he protested.
"Das why we bettin'," Remy said. "Beginner's luck somet'in' powerful."
Clint rolled his eyes at that. "Nuh-uh. You win because you work hard. I ain't lucky."
"Lacherlich," Kurt said low and throaty. "You're very lucky."
"Well, I only got lucky with getting my mom — that's just one."
"You don't gotta talk with drunks, kiddo," Logan said, simply to incense the two men.
Clint grinned a little wider. "But I can play with 'em," he said. "I think I like this game," he added, as he lined up another shot.
"Yeah, just don't listen to anything they say," Logan laughed. "They don't know what they're talking about more often than not."
"Nonsense," Kurt scoffed. "And you can't talk — you've had more than both of us."
"Logan can't get drunk," Clint said in an easy tone.
Logan held his arms out and smirked. "Kid knows what the deal is, boys. Not my fault you're lightweights by my standards."
"Ain't nobody here that ain't a lightweight by that standard," Remy pointed out.
"Makin' me wanna go hit poker night at the tower," Logan said, shaking his head before he lit up a cigar. "Least someone there can keep up."
"But here is where the celebration is, Logan," Kurt laughed.
"Hey, Remy, come play me next," Clint called out, breaking up the teasing as Logan sank the last striped ball. "No blowing up the table when I win, got it?"
Logan let out a little snerk at that as he handed Remy the cue. "Good luck, swamp rat."
Of course, Remy tipped his nose up slightly and then smirked at Clint. "What you wanna shoot at? I'll let you pick."
"Solids," Clint said. "And I'll let you break."
Remy chuckled and set the balls up before he winked at Clint and pulled off a trick shot to break — and sank exactly one stripe in spite of the busy table.
Clint kept his expression neutral as Remy finished up before he stepped up to carefully measure out his shot. He was starting to draw a little bit of a crowd from the others, who stopped to watch the perfectly serious seven-year-old as he would narrow his eyes, line up the cue, and precisely tap every single shot where he wanted it to go.
He wasn't good enough for any trick shots, but that didn't exactly seem to matter. He had the aim, and he had the precision for the game, even if he did have to take a little longer with every shot as he would kick his step stool over to where he wanted it to be, climb up, and start the whole thing over.
But that was only entertaining the other X-Men more as they watched. Remy was swearing by halfway through Clint's turn as the little boy went around and around the table and then finally dusted his hands off and looked up at the Cajun. "That's why I letcha break," he said in a perfectly reasonable tone that quickly had Kurt absolutely falling apart laughing at the look on Remy's face.
Logan was smirking hard by the time the game was over. "That was beautiful."
"You two set this up," Remy argued, shaking his head between them. "Kid musta played before — ain't no way that was two games in!"
"It's an easy game," Clint argued. "All you gotta know how to do is aim."
"Harsh," Logan laughed. "But true."
"So how much do you owe the kid, Remy?" Bobby laughed.
Clint grinned up at Remy. "Well, we didn't say, but…" He tipped his head to the side. "But you gotta gimme your card when I take Miss Storm shopping next time, 'cause she'll take it anyway so you might as well lemme have it."
"Is dat where ol Remy's cards disappeared to," he said in a low rumble. "I shoulda known … lil sneak t'ief."
"Uh-huh." Clint nodded. "She showed me some stuff for how to make it smoother when you pickpocket. So I don't tip nobody off 'cause I useta sometimes get caught."
"Why you wanna learn dat kinda ting?" Remy asked, frowning slightly. "An' why you go an' ask Miss Stormy when you could be askin' me?"
"Well, Miss Storm's my teacher," Clint pointed out in a tone that said it should have been obvious. "And I already knew how to steal — she just taught me to steal better."
"Well who you t'ink taught her, hmm?"
"Oh, is that why she steals from you?" Clint asked.
Bobby laughed outright at that. "Oh yeah. Student surpasses the master or whatever."
Clint grinned and hopped down from his step stool to give Bobby a high-five. "Thanks for the stool, by the way. One day I won't need it and I can smoke people without help."
"Sure will," Bobby laughed.
Scott was half hanging off of Hank by that point as he laughed. "Been here a little over a month and he's got the team working for him," he muttered to Hank in between laughs. "Just think how it's gonna be raising the little ones around here."
"I'm sure we will all rise to the challenge," Hank smirked. "But I think it might be best if we break this up before anyone ends up on the floor."
"Spoilsport," Logan grumbled.
"That's okay," Clint said, leaning over the table to grin at Logan. "You an' me an' my mom can still hang out, 'cause you guys don't get drunk, and I'm not tired."
Logan barely raised an eyebrow at that, though it was a definite switch from how things had been with Clint just a week or two before. "As long as she's up for it, sure," he said. "Lead the way."