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While it was still unknown who had done it and unclear what exactly the purpose had been (other than to cause chaos) someone had set 10,000 dogs loose on the city; each of them equipped with sirens which blared intermittently. Each time a siren went off, any dogs who heard it went nuts and the dog attached to the siren would be startled and panic. While it might have been the cutest invasion Clint had ever seen, the dogs were causing a lot of traffic accidents and PETA was having a conniption. It had taken two days to wrangle all of them and SHIELD had gotten all the dogs (once they’d been de-siren-ed) to make sure that there was nothing else going on like a virus or biochemical weapon that was about to kill everyone. Clint believed it was a distraction for something, but whatever it was had yet to come to light. Oh a few people had tried robbing banks and the like while the city was in disarray but most of them hadn’t been able to make getaways due the chaos and landed themselves in jail cells instead.
Some of the dogs had been kidnapped from the city, many were strays, and after a thorough check and extended quarantine SHIELD found nothing else wrong with the pups, so they were sent home or adopted by nice families. Slowly, things were going back to normal at SHIELD.
There were only two puppies left now. One of them was a lab-ra-doodle named Tinker-Bell (it was a boy and Clint was torn between pity and hysterics). Tinker-Bell’s family had been on vacation when the thieves struck (Disney World, of course) and they wouldn’t be back for a few more days. A neighbor had been looking after the dog while the family was gone, but since SHIELD had already been keeping it, they’d just told the Carmichael family that Tinker-Bell could get picked up at “Button’s Home for Runaway Dogs” which SHIELD had adopted as a cover.
The other was clearly a mutt which had to be part Jack Russell and part terrier and possibly part raggedy old mop. The vet said he was probably around nine months old and likely to grow a little more (he was only about ten pounds) but he looked like an old man. He had wiry hair that stuck out all over the place, giving him the look of crazy grandpa who didn’t really shave or get his hair cut any more. He was mostly white, which did not help the old man look, with a couple of brown and black spots. One ear had been injured, making it permanently floppy while the other one would perk up when the little man got excited. To finish off the look, he had just the slightest overbite. Any time anyone or anything came into the kennel with him or brought him out to play, he just ran in circles between jumping on top of the visitor. Growing up, the closest thing Clint had to a pet was the elephant at the circus and animals had never been particularly interested in him. While dogs didn’t tend to be aggressive towards him, they never showed him much affection. Not like this little dog, who seemed to say “I love you, take me home!” with every jump, wag, circle, and bark. In short, Clint was smitten.
Darcy spent every free moment she had at the shelter. She told everyone, including herself, that it was because she loved dogs and the way they’d been treated was awful and they needed lots of love to recover from that horrible experience with the sirens. So many had been hit by cars or had some other tragic thing happen to them that Darcy had spent the first few nights crying alone in her bed after tending to as many as she could in whatever way she could. She never told a soul how much the situation had really upset her, though she suspected Jane knew something since her eyes were inevitably puffier than usual.
“It’s my allergies. I mostly outgrew them, but there are so many puppies, I think my body is a little overwhelmed,” she lied one morning when Jane asked her again if she was okay. Jane looked skeptical, but didn’t press the issue again.
When she allowed herself to acknowledge the truth, Darcy knew that the biggest attraction to the shelter S.H.I.E.L.D. had fabricated was the little terrier mix that was always so very happy to see her. Darcy scratched him between the ears and smiled as his tongued lolled out over his slight overbite.
“You’re a silly boy, Old Man,” she said affectionately and then laughed when he pushed to curl up in lap. She’d started calling him ‘Old Man’ because he looked like one even though the vet assured Darcy the little dog was still an adolescent in dog years.
Darcy petted Tinker-Bell too of course. He was a large, friendly dog with fluffy cream colored fur and large quiet brown eyes. Darcy got the feeling that Tinker-Bell was enjoying the shelter now that there were only the two dogs.
“Do you miss your family?” she asked Tinker-Bell as she rubbed his ears. He leaned into her hand.
“No.” Darcy jumped at the sound of a sure male voice when she had expected only silence or perhaps a bark. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Old Man in her lap, but when the voice echoed through the room, the pup in her lap jumped up and raced to see the newcomer.
Darcy was at a loss to understand why the untouchable hawk was visiting the pups now that it was no longer required that everyone in the building do a shift there every week spending time with the dogs and helping with the care. Had Darcy not already been sitting she would have been floored when that same icy assassin bent down to let the bouncing puppy jump into his arms. Darcy would not have said the words aloud because it would have sounded too crazy even to her own ears, but Clint was cuddling the little guy. In return, Old Man was attempting to lick Clint’s face and neck. Clint held the dog with arms stretched out to look him in the eyes.
“Settle down, Crossbow.” The dog wriggled in response. Darcy couldn’t see the dog’s face, but she imagined he looked quite pitiful, because Clint sighed, hugged the dog to his chest and groaned as the dog managed to land a few licks on Clint’s face. Darcy might have laughed at the sight, but shock left it stuck in her throat.
Instead, all she could say was, “You can’t name a dog Crossbow. You don’t even like crossbows.”
Clint’s sharp look was unsettling, but much to Darcy’s relief, he went back to looking at the dog. “I don’t use crossbows because I can’t control a crossbow which is what makes it such a perfect name for him.”
“Well, you can’t name him Crossbow because I’m adopting him.” The words were out of Darcy’s mouth before she’d thought them out, but she knew the little dog needed a home.
“You’re what?” Clint asked and Darcy might have said Clint looked almost surprised.
“I decided today so I haven’t done the paperwork yet, but,” she shrugged, “yeah, I…” Darcy couldn’t find the words she was looking for so she gave Clint an apologetic look and a hand wave. He looked at the dog in his arms and was very quiet for a spell.
“I wanted to adopt him, too,” he said. Darcy didn’t have an answer for that. She’d never considered that the man who kept himself so apart from everyone else might actually feel his nest was empty. Clint sighed and it brought her focus back to him and the present moment. “It’s not like my schedule would allow me to keep a dog. Where would I find a kennel open at four am when Fury sends me to BFE on two week assignment that started the day before?” Old Man seemed to sense something was up because he resumed his struggles to lick Clint’s face though it seemed more of a conciliatory act this time.
Clint walked the few feet to Darcy and placed the dog in her outstretched hands. “Would… Would it be all right if I came to visit him?”
“Of course,” Darcy said. An idea was forming somewhere in her mind but she hadn’t yet figured out what it was exactly. Before she was able to work it out, a jingle and the sounds of excited people spilled into the back rooms from the front office.
“How can I help you?” The young woman at the counter, Darcy was pretty sure her name was Beth, asked whoever had just come through the front door.
“I’m here for Tinker-Bell!” announced a young, loud, expressive voice.
“Oh! I know he’ll be very excited to see you. Where are your parents? Ah, there’s your mom. Wonderful! Okay, sweetie, your mom has to fill out just a little bit of paperwork and then you’ll be able to take Tinker-Bell home where he belongs.”
“But I wanna see him now!” the voice said. Darcy didn’t think the child sounded petulant, whiny yes, but not petulant.
Darcy stood and leaned out so that she would be visible to those in the front part of the office. “It’s okay Beth! Clint and I are back here. If it’s all right with her mom, she can come back here.”
“Can I, Mommy, pleeeaaasse? I missed him!”
“You missed him while you were at your tea party with Cinderella?” Darcy could see the little girl’s mother giving her a skeptical, but affectionate look.
“I wanted him to have tea with us too,” the little girl countered. The mother smiled as she rested a hand on her swollen belly and Darcy wondered if the woman was fifteen months pregnant or pregnant with triplets – either way, Darcy didn’t know how the woman was still standing, let alone smiling after a trip with kids to Disney.
The mother sighed. “Any way I can take the paperwork in there?” she asked Beth.
Darcy couldn’t see Beth’s face, but she imagined the girl was smiling when she said, “Sure thing. Go on back; I’ll get everything together for you.”
“You don’t wander beyond that room,” the mother said and the little girl nodded solemnly. “All right, go see Tinker. I’m right behind you.” The little girl squealed and Darcy watched in awe as a four year miniature human old projectile in a tinker-bell dress made a beeline for the place where Darcy was currently standing.
“That is the most terrifying missile I believe I’ve ever seen,” Clint noted from over her shoulder as he continued to hang onto Old Man/Crossbow. “I’m pretty sure that’s sayin’ something.”
Darcy gulped and moved out of the way before she was bulldozed by an oversized fairy yelling, “Tinker-Bell!” Even so, the little girl bumped Darcy in the race to get to Tinker-Bell and she found herself pressed into Clint’s side. The arm which wasn’t holding Crossbow reached out to steady her. The warmth of his body struck her and combining it with the contrast of the cool of the room, Darcy shivered. It was too bad she didn’t have a reason to stay close to him for longer than the moment it took to right herself because she was very much enjoying the feel of his long, lean muscles.
The little girl had tackled Tinker-Bell into a bear hug and the dog seemed to hug her back by leaning its large head against the little girl’s neck. When she pulled back the dog licked her cheek twice and then gave her what looked like an “Eskimo Kiss” while the little girl giggled. “I missed you, Tinker-Bell! Ohh, you would have loved the Disney castle and the princesses were so nice and lovely and beautiful! I didn’t see the real Tinker-Bell, but I’m sure she was there. You could practically feel the magic!”
The mom looked tired when she took the clipboard and pen from Beth. Clint put Old Man down and the little dog raced to little Bella and ran circles around her feet, occasionally stopping to bounce in his usual manner of asking to be petted. Bella squealed and petted Old Man and awkwardly picked him up. He did not look like he could possibly be comfortable with his legs and body at such odd angles but he proceeded lick her face like he was the happiest dog in the world. Darcy was beginning to wonder if Clint had decided to leave when he reappeared with a stool.
“I couldn’t find a proper chair, but I thought you might like to sit,” he said to the mom who was struggling with the clipboard.
“Oh, thank you,” she said. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to get back up.”
“We’ll help you up, if you need it,” Darcy put in.
The woman sat down without further argument. “Do you two work here?” she asked. Darcy had the image of Clint in his S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform with leashes, treats, and spray bottles instead of his guns, bow and arrow, and rigs. It took quite a bit not to burst out laughing.
“No, we, um,” she said, “We were looking to adopt a dog.” Clint stared at her. It was Darcy’s turn to surprise Clint.
“Oh, how wonderful. How long have you been together?”
“Actually, we met here,” Darcy continued. She had an idea earlier that was starting to come together now and she thought it just might work. “We were both volunteering with the puppies you know? Neither of us really had the time on our own to take care of a dog, but together we thought we could really give a dog a good home and since we were both in love with Old Man here,” she gestured to the dog in the arms of Bella.
“Crossbow,” Clint put in, seeming to catch on that she meant it when she said they were going to take care of the little dog together.
Darcy smiled even as she rolled her eyes. “We’re not naming him Crossbow.”
“We’re not naming him Old Man,” Clint countered, but Darcy didn’t think that his eyes had left her face since she’d started this story about them adopting the dog together.
“Anyway, we can’t wait to take him home,” Darcy concluded.
The mother smiled. “Naming him will be a big decision. Naming Tinker is still a source of contention in our house. Do try to find a name you’ll both like.”
“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Clint said. He was still studying her and her body was torn between squirming under the attention while blushing from embarrassment and fidgeting with curiosity while flushing from desire. She wasn’t thrilled with either set of options.
The mother smiled and wished the two of them luck before scribbling the last of her answers and handing the paperwork to Beth who handed her a leash.
“I got it,” Darcy volunteered since she didn’t think Bella could handle the leash and the mom seemed to have enough on her plate. She clasped the leash on Tinker-Bell who must have understood what was happening because he gave her a “goodbye kiss” and then stood and waited. Clint helped the mother up from the stool.
“Thank you,” the mother told Clint. “Come on, Bella, put the dog down now. It’s time to go home.”
“Do I haaave to put him down? Can’t we take him home too?” Bella asked, squeezing the as of yet unnamed dog so tight Darcy was surprised he didn’t yelp.
“This nice couple is adopting him and taking him to their home. Besides, we have Tinker-Bell and Iron-Man to take care of at home.”
“Okay,” she said. Putting down the little dog, who instantly ran to Darcy and Clint, sitting between them like he already understood what was happening and maybe he did. “But only because the nice lady and man are taking him home.”
The mother took the leash from Darcy. “I’m sorry, I have to ask. Who is Iron Man?” Darcy asked.
“Ah, well each kid got to name one pet. Our son named the cat.”
“That explains a lot, actually,” Clint said, grinning and the mother smiled back.
“Well, the boys are waiting for us, so we’ve got to get going. Come on, Bella.”
“Okay, Mommy,” the little girl said. She was initially following her mother, but eventually she sprinted ahead and pushed opened the door so her mother could easily slip through even with Tinker-Bell who was obviously well trained on the leash and didn’t try to get away or chase after squirrels. She had a feeling not-Old-Man-Or-Crossbow was not going to be so well-behaved. Darcy looked down at the little dog and found him staring up at her as if he was waiting for something.
“Did you mean it?” Clint asked.
“I meant it.” Darcy didn’t need to ask what he meant to answer him.
“How do we do this?” he asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Well, we need to choose a place to house train him and teach him some good habits. Since you may end up having him more, I think maybe your place would be good,” Clint reasoned.
Darcy nodded, but then gave him a suspicious look. “You just don’t want any potty training mishaps at your apartment.”
Clint smiled but did not look abashed. “If you’re willing to put up with me, I’ll crash at your place and take him out in the middle of the night while we work on it. That way, you won’t lose a lot of sleep.”
Darcy was still suspicious, but at least he wasn’t trying to convince her that she was wrong about his motives. The sleep thing was definitely a plus. “Okay, but you’ve got the couch. And you’d better not eat all my Captain Crunch.”
“Couch is fine, but I’m not making any promises about your Captain Crunch.”
Darcy had taken the subway to the shelter. It wasn't terribly far, but carrying everything Beth had loaded them down with—bowls, doggie bed, enough food for a few days, heart worm medicine, fleas and tick protection, tiny bottles of doggie shampoo from leftover samples, and finally the dog was all a bit cumbersome. Clint, however, had just returned from somewhere (she hadn't asked where, but it couldn't have been too far because she was sure she'd seen him the day before) and had his car with him. Clint offered to drive and help her carry everything. He said it was only right since they were doing this together and she was inclined to agree.
The puppy sat in her lap and for a moment appeared to be eyeing the leather interior, but he seemed to understand that he would be taking his and Darcy’s lives into his paws (or jaws) should he decide to chew on it. He contented himself with sticking his head out the window and Clint stayed surprisingly calm considering that the puppy had placed his front paws on the inside of the door to prop himself up. That might not have been a big deal, except the puppy’s nails needed trimming and Darcy was sure there would be a few scratch marks on the previously immaculate interior.
This was his choice though. He was the one who said he wanted a puppy after all. If he hadn’t said anything, Darcy wouldn’t have suggested the co-parenting situation.
Clint parked the car, a sleek black BMW M5 sport that had Darcy drooling on the leather. (It was becoming a rather sad trend her drooling over leather.) Darcy unbuckled, but before she had time to even begin sorting herself, the puppy, and all the supplies in order to get out of the car, Clint had jogged around to her side and opened the door.
"I think it might be a good idea to let him see my place too," he said. "Just so he recognizes it later, we should probably spend some time with him there too."
"We? Does this mean I'm getting invited into the Barton-Lair, The Hawk's Nest?" Darcy asked, not sure whether she was completely serious or just being sarcastic. More likely it was both.
Clint snickered. "I have an apartment at S.H.I.E.L.D. just like you. Not a Bat-Cave or tree house,” he told her. “It's a pretty regular place."
Darcy raised an eyebrow. "Sure, you're just a regular dude doing regular things like savin' the world from Alien-Invaders in a leather costume. No reason to think you’d have anything other than a regular ol’ S.H.I.E.L.D. agent apartment.”
“I’m not a superhero. I’m a guy with really good aim and martial arts skills. It took a life time of work and some very good teachers. I am not an Alien-God or a science experiment.”
Darcy wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that she’s seen what he could do and it was not something that she’d ever seen before, not even in the movies, but Darcy didn’t think Clint would take her opinion seriously. In her silence, the little pup gave a gruff bark and Darcy had to smile. “See?” she asked Clint. “He doesn’t agree with you either.”
Clint shook his head, but Darcy thought she saw a smile at the corners of his lips as he took the puppy and many of the bags from her so that she could get out of the car. A superhero and a gentleman, she thought, he should have his own movie.
They decided to take everything to her apartment first then Darcy carried the puppy as Clint led the way to his apartment a few floors up. Darcy giggled as the pup alternately squirmed in her grasp and sniffed the air vigorously; examining his new surroundings.
Clint had thought that with exceptions for the occasional feeling of guilt over past sins and the fleeting sense of satisfaction when he managed to black out a little more red from his ledger (as Nat had once described it), Clint no longer had emotions. It wasn’t that he was unhappy or angry. Clint just was. He existed. A few well-placed comments to keep him from getting bored and Clint’s vision stayed clear which was how he liked it and how he needed it.
So what the hell was he doing, he asked himself, co-adopting the first living creature that had affected him in years with such a charming and lovely young woman who had a pull of her own?
Clint convinced himself that since not-Crossbow was a dog and not a person that it would be all right to be attached to him. Dogs were loyal animals and hopefully this one would be loyal to him - well and Darcy too, he supposed.
Darcy could have adopted the dog on her own and had apparently planned to do so though he did wonder if that was a spur of the moment decision as she’d looked as surprised as he was when she’d said she was going to adopt the dog. Either way, he couldn’t take care of a dog on his own, not with his life as it was so sharing the dog with her was the practical decision even if he suspected that having Darcy in his life was going to be anything but practical.
Clint grabbed one of his (many) go bags from his room and watched her out of the corner of his eye. Darcy scratched the pup’s head and chatted away as she considered Clint’s apartment. She’d stopped at the bookcase in the living room and she seemed to be reading over the titles. He stiffened instinctively, waiting for the question (jab) about why an archer would need so many books on science and math. Darcy stopped scratching the dog for a moment so she could trace the spines of a few of the books.
Clint walked over to where she was standing. “We should take this to your apartment and then let him run around outside for a bit.”
“Sounds good,” she said, but she didn’t move from her examination of the shelf. “Why do you have more than one copy of The Art of War?”
“They’re different translations. I don’t read Japanese,” he told her, still waiting for the jab.
“But you speak it, don’t you?”
He nodded, “Only a little and a general dialect.”
She nodded back. “I hardly understand some of these titles. Even this,” she said as she pointed to The Theory of Relativity & Other Essays, “is a stretch for me. Jane is a saint to put up with me. I’m learning more and more, but this kind of science and her kind of science – well, let’s say they’re not my strong suit.”
“Archery is a lot about physics. I’ll probably never master chemistry and I’m fairly certain the magic that is science on Asgard is out of the question, but the physical laws of the world around me and how those laws will act on my arrow – now that I can handle.”
“These are a little more complicated than just force and velocity, Clint.”
“It’s…” Clint wasn’t Stark or Banner or Selvig and he was still unsure how Darcy was going to react to his collection and reading habits.
“If you’re about to say ‘it’s nothing’ or anything remotely similar, I will hit you and you will pretend it hurt,” Darcy informed him.
Clint chuckled. “Okay,” he said. She turned back to his bookcase and he watched her profile while he scratched behind the dog’s ears and pretended he was studying the pup instead of her.
“Would you teach me how to shoot?” she asked him.
“What?” Clint knew what she’d asked, or at least he was pretty sure he had, but the request seemed a little out of nowhere.
“Just a couple lessons, I’ll even be quiet for them. I’d just,” she seemed to be looking for the right words, “I’d really like to learn how to use weapon besides a Taser. Don’t get me wrong, I love my Taser. My Taser is awesome. My Taser took down a god.”
“We could’ve used you battling Loki.”
“I am serious about this you know,” she said.
“I’ve never really given lessons,” he said. He was surprised to find that he was considering her request. He’d had others ask before and he’d always shut them down quickly and decisively.
“I’ll get it if you say ‘no’,” she said. “It’s all right if you’d rather not.”
Clint wasn’t ready to tell her yes, though he had the feeling he would eventually agree. “Let’s talk about it later. We’ve got a puppy who looks like he needs to run around outside.”
“Right,” she said.
They tossed Clint’s bag in Darcy’s apartment and headed downstairs. Darcy let the dog down and he ran over to the nearest corner of grass and sniffed until he found the best possible place to do his business. Darcy wondered if he was attracted to places where other dogs had been so he could dominate their smell or if he was attracted to unmarked places for him to claim as his own. When he was done he sniffed around some more and then came bounding back to Darcy and Clint, running figure eights around their feet.
Clint pulled a small blue bouncy ball out of his pocket which he’d grabbed from the shelter and knelt down.
“Hey boy!” he said. “Look at this.” Clint bounced the ball once in front of the puppy and the little dog’s eyes immediately snapped to the ball and zeroed in on the pray. “You want it?” Clint asked, bouncing the ball again. The puppy tensed, ready to capture the ball. “Yeah? Go get it!” Clint said and tossed the ball deeper into the garden type courtyard beside S.H.I.E.L.D. tower. The dog bolted after it, springing into action.
The ball went about thirty feet and just after the first bounce, the dog sprang into the air and snatched the ball before landing perfectly, turning quickly, and racing back to Clint and Darcy. When Clint took the ball back, the puppy sat with a rigid back and a wagging tail ready to spring into action as soon as the ball was released into the air again. Clint didn’t make him wait long and as soon as the ball left his fingers, the dog was off like a shot.
The puppy ran back to them, placed the ball down on the sidewalk, and waited for the ball to be thrown again. Darcy picked it up this time and tossed it. Her aim was not as good as Clint’s which meant it went bouncing off the stonework and got stuck in a bush. Darcy was about to go get it for the dog, but Clint held her back.
“Let’s see if he can get it first,” Clint said so she waited. Sure enough, after a few moments of studying the bush which was taller than him, the dog popped up to put his feet on the trunk, shaking the whole bush which in turn knocked the ball loose. The little dog then grabbed the ball and pranced back to Darcy and Clint looking smugly triumphant.
Darcy couldn’t help but squeal in delight. She smothered the little dog in pets and announced, “Why you must be the smartest dog in the whole world, you little Einstein you!” Darcy paused petting the dog and looked up at Clint from where she was still kneeling with the dog. “Could we name him that? Einstein, I mean, would that be okay?”
Clint seemed to mull it over, but then answered, “Yes.”
Darcy grinned, “See? This is going to work out just fine.”
Clint wasn’t as sure as Darcy was about how this was all going to turn out what with his strange reaction to Darcy and his growing attachment to Einstein, but he did know that he wasn’t about to back out of it now.