1point5kidsandaruger | I seem to be what I'm not, you see. I'm wearing my heart like a crown.

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I seem to be what I'm not, you see. I'm wearing my heart like a crown.

[The lab at the NTS gives Steve the crawls, no matter how many times he ends up there. Maybe it's the wasteland backing the place, the radiation warning signs or the huge pits where gamma-based explosive have ripped chunks out of the earth. Maybe it's the way the self-contained facility circulates purified air until the entire place tastes stale. Regardless, when Howard says there's 'something interesting' there and that General Phillips has requested Captain America's presence at the base ASAP, Steve doesn't exactly have a choice but to go.

The surroundings are still unsettling. The air still tastes stale. But there's a wildness to the place that Steve's never seen before. Scientists rushing back and forth, holding conversations that are at once hushed and excited. He almost has to pry one away from her clipboard in order to find out where Phillips and Stark are waiting. "Requested SSR personnel are supposed to go to observation room three," she says, and by the time he manages to get directions there he's already looking forward to stepping back out into the Nevada heat.

What he doesn't expect when he gets to Observation Room Three is to see Peggy and a half-dozen higher ups whose names and faces he knows but whom he's never personally met. What he doesn't expect is to see a man restrained in the otherwise empty cleanroom on the other side of the glass. Steve's escort stays on the other side of the door when it gets shut. He drifts to Peggy's side, saluting the Phillips at the same time.]

General. Is... What is this?

[Phillips raises his eyebrows at Steve in a look the Captain knows too well by now.]

Funny.[Phillips gestures at the glass.]I was hoping you could tell me. Stark got Skull's toy box open - ripped a nice shiny hole in the wall of his lab and spiked radiation levels in the entire facility. And also gave us him.

[Steve moves to the glass, resisting the urge to press a hand against it and peer closer, like the prisoner is a new exhibit at the zoo.] I'm not sure I follow, sir.

Came through the hole, took out two scientists and five guards - and then things got interesting.

[Steve frowns, still watching the prisoner.] ...Sir?

He took one look at the uniforms and started demanding to see you.

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"He is," Steve says, with quiet conviction. It's not the only thing that... that Captain America is somehow easier to even think than that Steve Rogers.

It's not the only thing that Captain America is missing out on, though thinking about it all would make Steve feel ill all over again.

"Agent Barton... Clint." Steve speaks quietly enough that the girls would have difficulty overhearing without effort. "They're just that. Our children. No matter what they can do, no matter what they've inherited from me, they're children. And you're scaring them."

Sarah defiantly mutters, "I'm not scared," and sits up a little straighter. Rosalie nods, though still clinging to her mother, and Josephine... has returned to her book and is babbling about it.

Peggy kisses Sarah on the top of her head, gives Rosalie a tiny squeeze at the waist. She's missing out, too -- whatever version of herself existed in Clint's world. But that's not here, not now, where she has a family she would quite literally kill for.

She doesn't add anything, but her expression shows her clear agreement in everything Steve says; she'd have said so herself, had he not beaten her to it.

His brain is still screaming at him to get out of there. And to be honest, he wants to. He doesn't want to be at these people's mercy any longer and he definitely doesn't want to keep looking at a Steve who doesn't know him. But he also doesn't want to freak out and potentially traumatize those children. He takes a breath and takes his seat.

"...I, ah... sorry, kids. I was just playing around." It rings false even to his ears.

"You're a bad liar. I thought agents had to be good liars." Rosalie fends of Josephine's book-related enthusiasm, looks from her mother to Sarah, and pushes herself off of the couch.

There's hesitation, though it's only brief, as she pours a cup of tea and brings it over, standing next to Steve. He knows what she's thinking - it's what he'd do, in this situation. Challenge himself with his own fear. He clasps his hands behind his back and waits for her to work herself up to it.

So here, Clint. Have a cup of tea shoved at you. "You should drink something besides just alcohol. It's bad for you."

Peggy can't help it. She smirks the tiniest bit at Rosalie's plan of attack, and then at Sarah's visible disappointment that she was beaten to it.

And even if it was a bit of a failure on his end, the fact that Clint even tried to placate her daughters earns some points in Peggy's book.

The more he does to prove he's not a complete and total threat, intentionally or otherwise, the less hostile she gets. Even if she recognizes the look of a man ready to bolt at the first opportunity, but she doesn't imagine he'd get very far -- even if he escaped, something about the entire situation makes Peggy think he'd be easy to track back down.

Edited 2012-07-01 05:21 (UTC)

Clint stares at Rosalie for a moment, considers telling her all about how he hates tea because it's a pale and stupid imitation of coffee, and then finds himself reaching for the cup instead.

"Thanks." Then he rolls his eyes a bit. "And you don't need to tell me that, really."

Is Rosalie pleased with herself? Maybe a little. She tugs on Steve's shirt, and he swings her up into his arms. She presses her face against Steve's neck.

"Mommy told Uncle Dugan she'd shoot him if he threw up in the bathroom," she says, like this is an explanation for her explanation.

Steve grins at nothing in particular, managing to keep himself from laughing outright. He gives Rosalie a little bounce. "And we know who'd get stuck cleaning up the mess, huh?"

"You," Rosalie says, soaking in Steve's amusement with four-year-old pride.

More seriously, Steve gives Clint a once-over. "You can stay here, until things get sorted out." He looks once at Peggy for approval before he goes on. "But if you'd rather not... If the idea makes you uncomfortable, there are hotels in the area. We'd have to place an escort with you."

Edited 2012-07-01 05:49 (UTC)

In the deepest, most tucked away part of her, Peggy loves and will never get tired of watching Steve interact with their children. She smiles at the scene softly, then straightens back into business-mode.

Even if she's not home as often as Steve, Peggy thinks at this point she'd still prefer the agent in a place that's easier to keep an eye on him; especially now that she knows he won't harm her daughters.

"Like it or not, you are stuck here for the time being." Here apparently being another time. "We have a guestroom you may use. It's likely the safest place for you, to be frank." It's her approval for Steve's original offer.

She turns to the girls, though Josephine has taken to rambling out the window. She's waving and pointing, but the behavior is so common, none of them give it a second thought. Peggy knows her daughters, at least the elder two, are smart enough to have at least picked up his name by this point, so she doesn't bother with belated proper introductions.

"While he's here, especially among the company of anyone else, let's call him Uncle Barton, all right?"

Clint sips his tea absently and shifts his eyes between Peggy and Steve. As they each offer him a place in their home, he face shifts. It isn't a sad look, or a thankful one--it's rough and almost pained.

"Listen, I really couldn't--uncle?"

The last word comes out in a squeak.

Rosalie rests her head on Steve's shoulder, the length of her day starting to tell. "We have lots of uncles."

Josephine tries to pull Sarah's hair, to get someone to look out the window, but finally gives up and throws herself backwards onto the couch with a cry of, "Ungoobaba!"

It's as close as she'll bother getting to Uncle Barton.

Steve looks over his shoulder at the girl and sighs. "We really need to work on her pronunciation. Look..." He turns back to Clint. "We're friends, aren't we? I mean, the-" Rosalie is watching Clint with a new kind of interest, sucking her thumb absently. Steve draws her hand out of her mouth. "-even if. Things are different now, for the sake of the man you know, let us help you. Please."

The doorbell interrupts before he can say anything else.

Peggy's eyes narrow as the doorbell rings, and Sarah perks up, as well. Josephine declares something triumphantly and attempts to wriggle off the couch, but Peggy scoops her up. "I don't think so, young lady," she scolds, climbing to her own feet before slowly making, her way for the door. Sarah trots after her, fingers idly holding at the back of her mother's skirt.

She gives Steve a brief look, preparing for any sort of damage control that might prove necessary, especially once she spots the people waiting to be let inside. She also shoots Clint a warning before sighing heavily and finally opening the door.

Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Mary Lou. Belinda. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Instantly the two women are peering inside the house, with all their usual standard nosiness. "Hello there, Miss Josephine! And I see you there, Miss Sarah!" Mary Lou says with a sticky and mildly annoying sweetness.

Sarah returns the greeting politely, but Josephine just huffs her way into disappointment.

"We just thought we'd stop by, Peggy!" Belinda notes, though her eyes are looking beyond, landing firmly on Clint. Mary Lou's eyes follow suit. "We saw your car come on home."

Clint doesn't know what he was going to say to Steve if the doorbell hadn't interrupted. But when it does, and Peggy shoots him that look, he looks around, trying to figure out something to do. Eventually he settles for peeling off his gloves and guards and stashing them in his quiver, which he finally takes off and sets behind his chair, out of sight. He feels naked, now, and worse, unarmed. His clothing, SHIELD insignia and all, won't blend. But at least now they can avoid the most obvious question.

He'd been prepared for some kind of ambush, a dozen agents storming in to arrest him, or something. What he isn't prepared for are two well-intentioned but nosy neighbors. And when they fix their eyes on him, well...

Clint turns to Steve almost desperately, asking out the side of his mouth, "What's the plan?"

Steve rests a hand on Clint's arm, battling a grin. "The first thing to do is relax. They're harmless, really."

"What are you gentlemen whispering about back there?" Mary Lou all but falls around Peggy trying to get a better look inside the house. Steve moves forward, neatly getting between the woman and Clint and making it look like he's coming to greet them at the same time.

"Nothing of interest," he says, adjusting Rosalie on his hip. The girl pretends to be asleep, even throwing in a tiny snore. Steve finds it harder and harder to keep from smiling.

Mary Lou and Belinda glance at each other, then back to the house's occupants. "You certainly have a full house this evening. It must be nice having everyone at home."

Gabriel is keeping himself out of sight, less because of the neighbors' reaction than because if he doesn't have to deal with their reaction, so much the better. He rolls his eyes and rests his head against the wall, smirking at Clint. Poor, poor Clint.

"Well, you know how busy Peggy's work keeps her." Steve's tone is megawatt bright, heavy with the poorly-hidden glee of someone initiating a scandal. The two women falter.

"Grant," says Belinda. "You're such a tease. Really, though, you must introduce us to your guest."

Steve looks back at Clint, his amusement finally tempered. "Brother of mine. Work brought him into town."

It's not a lie, in the strictest terms. Just a slight reforging of the truth. "Clive Barton, Mary Lou and Belinda. They live across the street."

"Not together, of course!" Mary Lou says. The two women look at each other and bark out nervous laughs, before homing in on Clint again. It's Belinda who speaks this time.

"Another... brother?"

"I have a very large family," Steve says, all his brightness returned. Rosalie squirms and rolls over in Steve's arms, so she's facing Clint's way - wide awake and trying not to give herself away by giggling.

"Our branches in work apparently cross over," Peggy remarks, stealing a glance at Clint, then Steve, before turning back to the women and her goal of keeping them out of the house before they can settle themselves in for tea. "We ran into each other today, and it turns out he'll be in town for some time. He's even busier than I am, so the family reunions have until now been basically nonexistent."

Sarah determinedly follows the etiquette of her mother in being politely attentive, though she joins their hands together. Josephine mutters something as she stretches her arms, then curls into Peggy in a genuine tired snuggle, unlike Rosalie's maneuver. It doesn't stop her from continuing to make sudden important announcements, albeit quieter and less rambly than she has been. She points at Clint during one of these and stares at him, before rolling over in Peggy's arm.

Mary Lou tries not to drop her mouth open, and it takes an elbow jab from Belinda to avoid that. She composes herself and asks airily, "How long might that be?"

He would have stuck out on a street in present-day New York. In a fifties entry way? He's a sore thumb. All in black, reinforced boots. The gloves and quiver are gone, but that doesn't help much. He has to do something, or he's going to bring down a lot of chaos on this house.

Despite not interacting with them very often, Clint's good with civilians. He's natural, he's affable. There's an old woman who lives on the third floor of the apartment building he rents out of. She's gotten so fond of him she bakes him banana bread every week, even though he's sometimes not home for months at a time.

Okay, Barton. Work your magic.

"Well, I'm at a bit of a lull at the moment," Clint says, with a half-smile. He walks up to Peggy, picks Josephine up out of her arms and tosses her over one of his shoulders. "So as long as the little ladies aren't kicking me out..."

In apparent response to Clint's statement, Josephine wraps both arms around his neck and huddles against him, yawning.

"That's. Certainly an interesting uniform." Mary Lou looks from Peggy to Clint and back again, clearly trying to parse out how their work, whatever it is, could be related.

Steve is about ready to intervene when Sarah takes Clint's free hand, eying his clothes and then the neighbors. "They're his pajamas," she says, with a haughtiness that indicates what she's saying should be obvious. "He's sick, so you should go, so he can sleep." A pause as she remembers her etiquette: "Please."

Any other thing Peggy might have been feeling is pushed aside for pride in Sarah, and she beams down at her for the ease at which her daughter plays into any situation.

She turns back to Mary Lou and Belinda, nodding. "It's also getting quite close to bedtime, though I'm sure you've noticed." Her eyes flash to both Josephine and Rosalie, even as she's more than aware Rosalie is wide awake.

Mary Lou falters, muttering: "Pajamas...?"

"Sure is an interesting style," Belinda says, giving the apparent pajamas a once over. But both women look marginally more placated than they did upon arrival, even if there are more questions clearly waiting to be asked.

Here's a protip for those of you at home: spies hate being stared at. Especially agents like Clint, who are more concerned with watching other people than being watched. So he suddenly wants nothing more than to get the hell away from these ladies.

"Right, bed time. Mine's a little earlier than the girls', if you can believe it. So, Sarah, you think you can show me upstairs?"

He grins at her and then the neighbors, trying to make nice.

Sarah obediently drags Clint through the living room and into the hall, stopping there. Josephine is fast asleep on Clint's shoulder.

Sarah sighs. "You'd better wait, so she doesn't wake up. She'll never get back to sleep otherwise."

It doesn't take long for Steve and Peggy to bid the neighbors a good evening and close the door behind them. Gabe, having seen Falsworth and Morita trading positions, and makes his exit without saying anything to Clint - not that he said much to the man to begin with.

Rosalie beats both of her parents into the hallway. "If I get pajamas like yours can I have a bow to go with?"

Peggy sighs with relief when the door shuts, though she'll deny it. She slides her hand into Steve's lightly as they walk for the hall, small comfort contact for a much longer and busier day than anticipated.

"It's not a toy, Rosalie," Peggy says, though there's not entirely a denial of her request. There are already plans for teaching all of the girls how to shoot properly. She removes her hand from Steve's and reaches for Josephine, lifting her carefully in just such a way that she stays sleeping, only making a tiny gurgly noise. There's clear experience in the process.

Clint nods solemnly in response to Sarah's advice, and stays stock-still with Josephine on his shoulder until the others arrive. When Peggy reaches to take her from him, he offers her an apologetic smile.

I didn't mean to actually grab your child from you, ma'am. Please don't shoot me. He'd never actually say that out loud, but his expression says it all.

But then he just turns to Rosalie very seriously. "To tell you the truth, these clothes don't even really go with the bow. My real suit's much cooler."

Rosalie gives Clint a wide-eyed look, jamming her thumb into her mouth while she considers his statement. Steve scoops her up and draws her thumb out of her mouth again. "Rose-"

"Is it as cool as daddy's?"

Steve snorts and tips her forward until she's dangling toward the floor. Rosalie starts to squeal and then covers her mouth with both hands with a look toward Josephine, kicking her legs instead. Steve gives her a little hoist into the crook of his arm and carries her to the door of the bathroom before he sets her down.

"Go on, get yourself ready for bed and think about what you want to read tonight."

"I thought it was my turn." Sarah frowns. "We haven't finished Empire of the East."

"We won't for a while, either. Let your sister pick one tonight."

Sarah scowls, just a little, before saying, "Yes, papa," and joining her sister in the bathroom.

Rosalie reappears with a toothbrush hanging out of one side of her mouth and a hairbrush in one hand. "I'm going to be Captain America when dad gets old," she says to Clint, her words muffled by the toothbrush. A little splutter of paste runs out of the corner of her mouth.

"Rose.” Steve points toward the sink and she vanishes obediently to spit.

Peggy offers Clint a nod at the expression he shoots her; as much as she might not necessarily appreciate the action, it was a valid and successful plan, and the agent is a pro at cover up situations herself. And it diverged some suspicion from the neighbors. Good job, Hawkeye. Keep it up and you're bound to get into her good graces sooner rather than later.

Josephine wriggles at Rosalie's squeal, but she doesn't wake up -- just burrows her face further into Peggy, shifts more comfortably.

Sarah brushes her teeth accordingly, doesn't budge from the bathroom until she's done. She finishes before Rosalie and slinks out as her sister continues to spit. "I'm going to be like Mama," she explains. Because if Rosalie can announce her plans to Uncle Barton, Sarah certainly can, too.

Peggy puts her fingers under Sarah's chin and tilts the girl's head up, leaning over in a careful balancing act that keeps Josephine undisturbed to kiss her eldest daughter's forehead. "And you're well on your way," she says with a smile; Sarah beams proudly, folding her hands behind her back and half twirling her hips from side to side.

She glances at Clint. "But papa's uniform is still pretty cool."

Edited 2012-07-10 22:08 (UTC)

“I’m sure he’s glad you think so,” Clint says out of the corner of his mouth, before he can stop himself. Sure, many people appreciated the stars-and-stripes, but Barton had never really seen the appeal. Even though the Avengers are public, he doubts he’ll ever escape the shadows entirely. It’s just not in his nature.

But that aside, when he lets that line slip he has to turn back to Peggy again with another wide-eyed, almost apologetic look. “Ma’am.”

At the girls he just smiles, a bit less tentatively than before. It’s abundantly clear, to him at least, that they are more than cut out to take up their parents’ jobs. He’d talked about that once, to Natasha—if I ever have kids, I’m keeping them the hell away from SHIELD—but the bright symbolism of Steve’s role, and even the quieter, stealthier spin of Peggy’s was something far removed from his own life.

“Well,” Clint says after a moment. “You know the most important thing for heroes-in-training is to get to bed on time, right?”

Rose reappears then, the front of her clothes soaked, but otherwise clean.

"You don't?" The look she gives Clint is almost worried. "You don't think it's cool? Why not?"

"Never mind," Steve says. He ruffles her hair. She gives him a look - I just brushed that - and pursues the uniform question with dogged determination.

"It's for heroes. For hope, and protecting good things. For changing bad ones. Why don't you like it?"

"He didn't say he didn't like it, honey." Steve kneels, finger-combing her hair back into some kind of order. "It means a lot of things for different people. That's one of the reasons it matters. He doesn't have to feel like you do."

Rose clearly doesn't quite understand, but she doesn't question her dad. Instead she jams her thumb into her mouth, considering Clint's question. "Is that true about bed-time?"

Steve chuckles. "It's not wrong. Do you know what you want to read?"

"Narnia!" All questions of heroes-in-training and uniforms and flags are immediately forgotten. Rose goes running into the girls' room, stripping off her soaked shirt as she goes.

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