[Closed]

[bowsniper]

Who: Clint Barton (bowsniper) and Natasha Romanoff ( widows_kiss)
Where: Clint's room, 7th floor
When: April 4th mid afternoon
Rating: PG? PG-13 for swearing
Summary: Someone follows Clint home, obviously Natasha needs to fix it.
The Story:

It had been a normal day so far, well normal for Clint. He woke up, grabbed breakfast, had a quick sparring session with Natasha, then spent the rest of the morning out fixing up the shooting range down by the beach. He grabbed a quick bite in the cafeteria and then made his way back up to his room, debating what he should do with the rest of the day.

Which was about the time that he noticed he was being followed. He doubled back and tried to lose them but they were persistent and Clint gave up and turned around looking down at the tiny black and white kitten that seemed intent on coming home with him.

"Well, this is probably a mistake." He said to it as he opened the door to his room and walked in, the kitten prancing behind him.

He turned and sat on his bed and the kitten sat at his feet. He stared at it, and it stared back at him. "Really really making a mistake cat."

The cat ignored him and jumped onto the bed, settling it's self in a patch of sunlight that was coming through the window. It looked at him again and meowed demandingly.

Clint did the only thing he could think of. He picked up his phone and texted Natasha one word.

Help.

Comments

[widows_kiss]

She'd been finishing up her own batch of training when the text comes through and she blinks at her phone for a moment before typing out a reply. It wasn't urgent - they had codes for that - so the one word request gets a faint smirk from her as she heads for the door.

What did you do this time?

[bowsniper]

Nothing. It followed me home and now it's staring at me, Nat. I don't think it's blinking.

[widows_kiss]

Well that doesn't make any sense whatsoever, but this is Clint, so she takes that with a grain of salt. He'd at least given her a location.

Omw.

She shows up there a few moments later, letting herself into his room without so much as a knock as she saunters in like she owns the place.

"What dastardly menace have you caught the attention of then?"

[bowsniper]

It's been staring at him from its spot on the bed, and ok, even Clint will admit it's cute, but he doesn't know what it wants.

Of course the moment Natasha walks into the room it rolls onto its back, stretching it's paws over its head towards her and turns up the cute. Sneaky little devil.

"That," Clint points the the cat. "It won't go away."

[widows_kiss]

"That," Natasha repeats as she comes to a stop beside her partner and stares down at the little ball of fluff making itself at home in the middle of his bed.

"Clint. That is a kitten. Did you literally just text me for help with a kitten?"

[bowsniper]

"Well it's being cute now because you're here. It was staring at me in a creepy way before you came in, and meowing. I mentioned staring right?" Clint looks at it warily. "Can you please explain to it that I'm probably not the best person to actually own a cat?"

Yes, he was aware of how that sounded.

[widows_kiss]

"Do I look like the Cat Whisperer to you?"

Clint, please.

"You live on a farm," she points out dryly, jabbing him in the arm with a finger. "Don't you have like a dozen of them underfoot?"

[bowsniper]

"If I say yes you'll probably hit me, hard." She was already poking him.

"Look the cats at home and I have an understanding, I stay out of their way and they keep the mice away. Laura and Cooper like the cats, they kind of hiss at me." He eyes the ball of fur on his bed and it stands up and stretches walking to the edge and looking up at Natasha with an innocent expression. Clint didn't trust it.

[widows_kiss]

"You're an idiot."

The words are stated fondly to take any sting out of them as she moves to sink down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to stroke a hand against the kitten's back as she sits. It immediately crawls up in her lap and starts to knead her leg, wobbling precariously as it finds its balance.

"See? Was that so hard? Maybe it just wanted petted. Or food. You can never go wrong with food."

[bowsniper]

"I'm aware." He's told often enough by both Natasha and his wife.

He watched the hellbeast curl up in Natasha's lap and purr, pushing his head into Natasha's hand as she pets it. "Well I guess we know who it likes best. What do cats eat? Besides mice."

[widows_kiss]

"Cat food, Clint," she answers with a teasing dryness as she scratches the purring kitten behind the ear and shoots him a bemused look. "Something I'm sure the closets can provide for you. Failing that, tuna seems to be a favorite. Please don't try feeding it lasagna."

[bowsniper]

Don't give him that look Natasha, he's still not sure why anyone has trusted him with three children, and really that was mostly Laura they were trusting (Laura would probably smack him for this train of thought.)

"It liked the piece of blueberry muffin I have it in the cafe." Clint informed her as he went over to the closet and asked it for some cat food...and bowls he would need those too. "It already likes you better than me, maybe it will follow you home next." He watched Natasha pet the little furball and had to admit it was cute purring like that and running into her hand.

[widows_kiss]

"You fed it..." Wait. Look who she was talking to. Of course he had. "Never mind. And no, Clint. I'm not keeping your cat."

[bowsniper]

"It was all I had on hand." He knew where her train of thought was going. He picked up the can of tuna and the bowl the closet provided and opened it, pouring it into the bowl. "Here kitty, you want some food?" The kitten had perked up the moment he opened the cat and lept off Natasha's lap to whee Clint had set the bowl on the floor, eating like it had never seen food.

"Why not? It clearly likes you better. I'm a Hawk, birds and cats don't mix." And that was a horrible reason even he knew that.

[widows_kiss]

"Birds and spiders don't mix either, you realize," she points out with a mildly exasperated look, even though her eyes are still warm with fondness. "Your logic is failing, as usual."

[bowsniper]

Clint waves her off, when doesn't his logic fail. "But you're crafty and he, she, it? Is crafty. Perfect match." He peered down at the kitten who was now looking up at him. "You should name it Socks."

[widows_kiss]

"I am not naming it," she informs him dryly. "And even if I were, I would not name it Socks. You are terrible at naming, Clint. Although I half expected you to just call it 'Cat'."

[bowsniper]

"Socks is an awesome name, look at it, it has little white socks on its feet. What about Mrs. Whiskersen?" He gives her his most serious face. "I take offense to that comment, I'm awesome at naming things. Look at my children."

[widows_kiss]

"Laura named your children," she reminds him with an arch of her eyebrow. "You don't even know if your cat is female, and I'mm pretty sure she's a little young to be a Mrs."

[bowsniper]

"I helped!" Barely, he did insist on Pietro for Nathaniel though, not that Laura would have argued naming him after the man that saved her husband's life. He eyed the cat curiously. "Ok, so what do you suggest then. I can't just walk around calling it kitty, or cat, or hey you. I mean I can, but I know you'll give me those judgemental eyes."