The new odd trio of the Barton household began their fourth day together seated awkwardly around the kitchen table. Clint and Loki across from each other while Francis served as the separator. The kid had busied himself with eating, scooping globs of oatmeal out of his toddler bowl and into his mouth noisily. He paid not one speck of attention to the two men currently having a staredown.
"It's just for a few hours."
"Absolutely not."
Clint huffed, rolling his eyes. "He's my kid. I can do what I want with him."
"And I have already suggested I be the one to watch him while you are away. Tis not a bad idea Clinton."
"It most definitely is!"
The sound of his father raising his voice alerted Francis that something was not quite right at the moment. He looked up from his breakfast, chin dribbling with oatmeal, and made a keening sound that had both the adults looking at him. Clint sighed and leaned over, running a napkin over the mess Francis had made of his face.
"S'kay France. Loki here just doesn't want you going over to SJ's today."
Francis cooed with joy at the name, bouncing a bit in his booster seat.
"Essjay Essjay!"
Clint shot a look over at Loki, gesturing to the toddlers obvious excitement. "Now tell me that ain't a kid that's excited. He loves it over at the babysitter's."
Loki snorted, "Forgive me if I don't fancy the notion that you would allow someone to sit on your child."
Clink blinked, processing for a moment, then huffed a laugh, chortling and snorting in a manner that had Loki staring at him angry and disdainfully.
"What IS so humorous Barton?"
It took a while before he was able to compose himself enough for an answer, "A babysitter doesn't mean the baby gets sat on Mister knows-everything."
Emerald eyes narrowed in annoyance, Clint sensing those hackles of his rising. Quickly he cleared his throat and regained his professional air.
"Look. SJ's a good kid. He knows what it's like trying to raise a kid in a world where everyone sympathizes with the moms. He's got a bratty little sister that gives him hell and I've got a bratty tyke who does the same." He reached over and ruffled Francis' hair affectionately. "I trust him well enough to watch France for a coupla hours. I think you should too."
Loki sneered, leaning back in his chair. "Trust? I have no need for such a thing Barton. If I wanted to, I could make it so that you would not leave unless I wish it so."
"Yeah, but somethin' tells me that ya won't. So stop with the tantrum."
Clint stood after that, clearing off the table and taking Francis away for some clean clothes and a bath. Loki kept to the table and held on to his fit the entire time they were gone. He watched with feigned anger as Barton packed a bag of supplies for Francis' departure, glaring hotly the entire time. Clint ignored the god's antics for the most part, only relaxing when he saw there was no power behind his threatening demeanor.
Once the pair was ready, they made a break for the door, Francis snug and secure in his father's arm. He leaned over Clint's shoulder and cooed at Loki who was still seated at the table.
"Bye now Loki-ki! We go Essjay!"
The toddler waved a furious pudgy hand, and continued doing so even as Clint shut and locked the door behind them. Loki remained still for the moment, lost in contemplation.
Was the boy warming up to him?
Well yes of course. That's a start.
Clinton?
Not as of yet. This does not mean I cannot make him do so...
A visage with clammy red skin and a leering smile worked its way into his mind, causing him to shudder involuntarily.
Thanos...
Loki would not allow himself to be discovered. Nor would he allow any harm to come to Francis or Clint, concerned as he already was for their well being at the moment. He would not let slip anything to do with them, because then he would be in danger.
He stood and made his way to the window, drawing aside the blinds and watched as father and son trekked down the busy sidewalk of the Bronx and disappeared at the bend of the road. He would follow suit and investigate this 'SJ.' Just ensure the safety of his meat shields of course. Not because he was concerned for them...
i~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~i
SJ stood for Sydney-Joshua, but that was a bit much of a mouthful, so he went by SJ. Not to mention of course the fact Sydney was kind of more of a girl's name these days. His parents had been old fashioned.
Currently he was cleaning the dishes, shooting an exasperated glance every once in a while to his sister Ash, who was oblivious to his stare. He'd asked her about three times today if she would pick up what little cluttered the floor, and all three times she said she'd get to it, and yet stubbornly remained at the table, texting away. Finally he simply sighed and went back to his work and when done with that he went around doing her job. Clint would be here with Francis any second now and his apartment wasn't in tip top shape.
At least by the time SJ was done knit picking, he was relatively satisfied, and rushed to answer the door when it rang.
"ESSSSSJAAAAY!" Francis squealed, reaching over to grab his glasses with a daftly adorable little hand. SJ squinted, and took the wiggling boy from Clint's arms, trying to match the archer's gaze through his very much hazed vision.
"Mr. Barton."
"Clint- please. Kid you've been watching France for me since he started wiggling."
SJ smiled, readjusting Francis in his arms as well as he could.
"It's no problem. I'm glad to help."
Ash realized they had company and sauntered her way over, offering a smile caked with black lipstick, and promptly stole the toddler, glasses and all. Clint watched her walk off for a bit before glancing back at SJ.
"Alright, so I'll be back at around three. You'll be okay watching him that long?"
"I have a shift at four thirty, so that's perfect."
The aburnet was about to adjust his glasses when he realized too late that his had been stolen, and only laughed at himself when Hawkeye did.
"Alright. I'll try to be back at three then. I'll pay you too."
"Take as long as you need. It's good practice for us!"
Clint offered a dry smile and nodded, turning his heel and heading for the stairs. He shot a glance back just as the door closed, eyes half closing in fond relaxation at the glimpse of Ash pressing her forehead with Francis'. He continued on his way.
Somewhere in the pit of his gut, he had the unnerving feeling that someone had followed him...
But it was most likely, just Loki.
i~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~i
"So. This is what one calls... A toaster?"
"Yes Thor, and you stick bread inside the slots and it makes you toast quick and easy," said Jane from her seat at the counter. She was half watching Thor with a pair of wary hazel eyes while the remainder of her attention remained fixed on the stack of papers of the research she was doing on her own body since returning from their wild adventure in London. Darcy had to kiss her British intern goodbye, and was currently moping on one of Stark's many luxurious couches.
Thor studied the electronic cooker with disdain, picking it up to examine it closer, both cerulean eyes narrowing in suspicion. "I know not how such a metallic thing could produce freshly baked bread, but I trust Stark would not put anything to endanger you in his home."
He set the toaster back down and lumbered back to Jane's side, taking his seat once more and doing precisely what she had asked him not to do. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy his company. She was hopelessly in love with him, and suspected the feeling was mutual.
It was just a personal issue of having people hover.
How she hated hovering, really of any kind. It made it hard to focus, hard to breathe, and if anything it only increased her stress.
Thor didn't seem to catch her sudden discomfort, and proceeded to lean further into her intellectual bubble, resting his bearded chin lightly on her thin shoulder. She would have protested, but there was no resisting the lug's big puppy eyes, and she moved her cheek until it met his.
"You have not found what it is have you?"
Jane was quiet for a moment, but then sighed her confirmation. His lips twitched in concern, brows furrowing in concentrated thought as he himself pondered.
"Have you been ill?
"Just lightheaded Thor. Or... Lightbodied. I feel as light as butter and it's rather unnerving. I suspect it's the gravity difference between Asguard and Earth, but it could very well be a side-effect of the Ether..."
The Asguardian frowned deeply, bringing an arm up and around so he could rub her opposite side soothingly. He was about to say more when she spoke again.
"And then there's this..."
Thor watched as she used her free hand to lift the entire marble part of the long counter up and off from where it still had yet to be cemented down. She held it easily as if it only weighed the same as a piece of paper would.
"That's new," came a newer, quieter voice from the doorway of the kitchen. Both swiveled around quickly and Jane almost dropped the counter. Thor helped her ease it back down and into place gently, then the both of them turned to see who had joined them in the kitchen.
Bruce shyly made his way inside, picking his way over to the pair silently. He'd been helping Jane out on her examinations, and being their friend and a doctor as he was, both Thor and Jane had immense trust in him.
But even with his help, her condition remained a mystery to them both.
"I think I've been able to do that the same time the repelling kicked in again. I've just never tried to pick up something so obviously heavy..."
A nod was Bruce's response, and he took out his glasses in order to put them on.
"I don't really see a need to run anymore tests. The data will still be the same, inconclusive and erratic as usual."
"But you're certain tis nothing fatal?" Thor chimed in, straightening from his slouch to look Banner in the eye.
"Positive. If she was ill, she'd be showing signs like the ones you told me about."
Jane sighed and settled back against Thor, soon engulfed by his strong arms in a tight embrace. Bruce lightly scratched under his chin and glanced over at Darcy for a moment, then placed both palms on the smooth counter.
"We'll figure this out."
"You have our thanks, Doctor Banner."
"Oh? And what about throwing a scrap to the guy that owns the place?"
Tony sauntered in, draping a friendly arm around Bruce who to his credit, had learned to stop flinching.
"Do you know I saw that whole counter lifting thing Miss Foster, and I have to say I'm very concerned with two ridiculously strong people running around my tower, destroying things. It's even worse that you're a couple. Think of the poor bed frames."
Thor could feel Jane's smile on his neck, and he too grinned at Stark and his suggestive tendencies.
"Then again I'm sure Brucey is bigger monster in bed."
Bruce eventually wiggled free of his friend's hold, shooting the bearded man a bemused smile before shuffling off to the sanctity and quiet of the living room where Darcy sulked. Tony laughed to himself and took a seat by the snuggling couple, placing his head on his palms and leaning in their general direction.
"Is there something you needed, Stark?"
"You guys seen Hawkeye lately?"
From underneath Thor's head, Jane made a muffled sound of disagreement.
"Tis true. We've seen none of Barton since we celebrated his little one's day of birth. Has something ill befallen him?"
Tony shook his head and sat up, crossing his arms thoughtfully.
"Well. Six months is a long time to go without checking in with anyone. He's still in SHIELD's radar-that's for sure, but they're giving him a generous amount of privacy. Specially since we don't have to worry about..."
He trailed off into an awkward silence, noting the sobering look on Thor's face. Tony cleared his throat and glanced off to the side as Jane increased her comforting snuggling.
"Point is... Erik had a lot of problems both physically and mentally after Loki's freaky sceptre thing."
"Hawkeye is a trained SHIELD operative though. Don't you think out of him and Erik, Clint would be more... Hardened?"
Tony shrugged, glancing down to match eyes with Jane.
"That's a valid point. But regardless of his strengths and weaknesses..."
Bruce's voice piped in to finish the sentence, "The damage would have already been done."
Snapping his fingers and pointing in his friend's general direction, Tony nodded his agreement. He slid out of his chair and mulled about the kitchen, fixing himself a glass of scotch. After having a long drink, he strummed the countertop and let out a long sigh of resignation.
"High stress-situations seem to bring out the crazy side effects. Which explains why discovering the whole eternal darkness turned Erik into a cuckoo clock."
Thor didn't understand the analogy, but let Jane sit up when she wiggled to do so.
"Yes but, Clint's got a relatively peaceful environment right? It's just him and the baby."
Darcy raised her voice, pulling her head out of the couch pillow so she could throw in her two cents. "Jane, have you ever tried taking care of a two year old? He's probably tearing his hair out."
"And they live in the Bronx..." Bruce added.
Bless her soul, but Jane was well aware that she didn't know much about either. She'd hardly ever been in big cities, and the idea of kids sounded cute, but not ideal for her. Especially not now that she was dating an ancient Norse deity. Tony shrugged and took another, long drink.
"Pep's been talking about Barbara wanting to see him too. And ... Knowing Barbara... She's going to want to have full control over the situation. I don't think our Katniss in a very relaxing environment right now."
Thor was having a spot of difficulty keeping up with the conversation, but understood just enough to understand that Agent Barton could very well be in some serious trouble.
"Why not have him come to here then? At your large tower. Surely there is ample room for him and his firstborn in this monstrous metal house."
Tony opened his mouth to reply, pausing for a moment in thought, then closed it. When the billionaire had some time to mull it over, he spoke.
"That was the plan. See-I remodeled my tower to be headquarters for the Avengers. I didn't know Patchy the SHIELD Pirate was going to give him the boot. Clint's got a comfortable nest all gussied up at the top, where I used to have my bar. Figured I'd indulge the poor guy. He looked pretty pathetically miserable once 'Tash knocked some sense into him."
He paused to finish his glass, clearing his throat at the burning sensation. "But old man Fury was concerned that if we kept him on, Loki would use him as some kind of... Dormant spy. Like a sleeper agent. He wouldn't tell me why, but I think SHIELD's had a couple of people turn on the agency that way."
Darcy sat up and peeked into the kitchen blearily from her wild mess of brown curls, glasses askew.
"But that's not fair!"
"I know Dana."
"Darcy."
"That's what I said." Tony put his glass in the sink. "It's not fair, but there isn't anything I can do to convince Fury otherwise." He scratched behind his head and turned to his friends with a sigh, leaning against the counter.
"If Cap and Widow weren't off doing things we might be able to get some kind of appeal in for Legolas, but since they're not we can do Jack Diddly Squat at this point."
The silence was strained, but Tony offered up his best smile, putting his palms flat on the counter and pulling up the holographic screen.
"We're down a Soldier and two spies. So Fury's got a few recommendations on a few more kiddos we should add to our boy band."
Darcy and Bruce picked themselves up and into the kitchen, taking seats beside Jane and Thor.
"First on our list, we have Jan and Hank Pym."
i~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~i
Loki's day could have been spent doing far more productive things, but considering he was using quite the amount of magic to simply be here, he couldn't do much besides watch from the shadows. Clint had left Francis at this 'SJ's' home not but three hours ago, and if he were to he honest he wasn't quite sure what to expect.
The bespeckled boy was not anything special, and Loki wondered why Barton would trust something so precious with somebody so dreadfully dull and powerless.
The only thing he thought intriguing was that SJ seemed to have authority over Francis. The tyke would do whatever his babysitter asked him to do, and there was a meticulous way his time at SJ's would go, as Loki would find out in the days to come. There was snacks, colouring, and playtime outside on the patio that consisted of Francis chasing or petting one of SJ's cats. Naptime after a glass of milk and a rag to wipe off any dirt, and as SJ closed the door to the room Francis was sleeping in, Loki materialized and did a quick over the little boy to make sure he was truly in good shape. The doubt and uneasiness melted away a smidge and when voices sounded from the living room, Loki let his form dissolve and went to investigate.
"SJ there's no way you're gonna beat me with Haku. Not when I've got Anbu Kakashi."
A new boy sat on the couch beside SJ, an oddly shaped plastic thing sitting in the palms of his hands. SJ yawned and stretched a little, smiling at his new companion with a quaint determination.
"Well maybe I leveled up Haku again. You remember Ultimate Ninja 2 right?"
The stranger groaned, over-exaggerating his dismay.
"Awww come on Josh that just sucks! Haku's ice mirrors were already overpowered!"
"Sorry Sam. You're the one that wanted to come over and beat me some more," SJ put a hand to his chest and tried to look as dignified as he could, "I only leveled in self defense!"
Sam laughed and elbowed the other boy, rolling his eyes with an amused 'whatever.' The two began pressing buttons on the plastic things in their hands as Loki watched on with one brow raised. He wasn't absolutely certain what was going on but it looked far from productive. Aimless chatter passed between them, something about school and and someone named Peter.
Trust was not something that came easy to him, but after a long moment of debate, he decided that SJ was reliable enough. With one last patronizing look at the teenagers, Loki returned to the room where Francis was napping and gave the boy's soft hair a final stroke.
Time to see what Clint had been up to.
i~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~i
A guy with qualifications like Clint could find jobs easily. But most likely with some unsavory crowds. Rather than stoop to petty theft and crime, he instead took work where he could.
Handyman. Plumber. Electrician. Anything he could get his hands on really. With no previous work experience (as he could not list being a SHIELD agent on any application) he had to make do with what he got. Today it was fixing a router and wiring the cable to run through the house. The old lady paid him in full and even gave him some cookies and a good cheek pull as recompense for his overtime. Rubbing his face and holding the canister to his chest, Clint still couldn't shake off the feeling of someone trekking behind him. Frustrated that it might have been Loki, he did his best to ignore it until a familiar sensation made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Whipping around quickly, he noticed the hovering red dot just in time and dove behind the nearest wall. His heart lurched in his chest and he subconsciously reached for the bow he no longer had. Clint waited until the feeling passed, and with a shaky breath he peeked around the corner. Not a soul was around, but stuck in the wall where his head had been moments ago was an arrow.
Stepping out in the hall to examine it more thoroughly, he swallowed and pushed down his fear, grasping the arrow at the shaft and yanking it free. Taking the impaled note, Clint squinted down at it and read it twice to be completely sure he'd gotten it right.
Sorry about almost shootin' ya in the head butterfingers. Nah, just kidding. Wouldn't have been fun otherwise. There's a few hundreds in the compartment. Yours if you want. Get a steak and the kid some ice cream. You both look like you could use it.
-Trickshot.
Untrusting of the paper, he shoved it into the pockets of his jeans and snapped the arrow in half, an odd feeling coming to grip his chest when he did see that there were bills stuffed into the base. So many questions raced through his mind, demanding answers, investigations. The agent and spy that had grown dormant in him screamed for action.
But it was almost three and he had a wiggling little boy to go pick up.
As a parent, he had priorities now. First he would make sure Francis was safe and the two of them were home behind locked doors and drawn shades. Then he could take some time to figure out what exactly was going on.
Maybe there was more to Loki's reappearance then he'd originally thought.