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The Lives of Kittens, and Other Secret Mysteries; 5/24 - Early Early (Team Re-Assemble)
Topic Started: May 7 2014, 12:14 PM (673 Views)
Tigra
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The bikini's not the costume, I'm the costume.
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Tiger Tigra. It was this early in the morning, however early that actually was, and Simon was throwing Blake at her and her son with one of his most flagrantly dimpled smiles yet. She was gong to find a way to make him pay for that, Greer resolved, baring her teeth with a quiet snarl as fair warning.

Later though. For now Clint was asking about how long William was going to be able to stay - a good question, even if Bobbi seemed to have been taken a little by surprise at that. “And is there anything you'd like us to do? We're here for you, Greer,” her husband continued though, and that Mockingbird reiterating that, even if she was now turning that confused, questioning look back this way now, instead of where its usual resting place.

Well, since they were offering…

Bidding the pair of them to keep her son occupied, Greer passed him off to Clint. They could entertain William while she disemboweled Simon for offenses to names and to poetry. Though of course William had perked up instantly at the ‘D word’, and so there had to be an explanation again that this was another time when mothers said things that they weren’t actually going to do.

Not right at this second, anyway. She was holding the option in reserve.

Hawkeye, thank god, was taking right to dealing with a small three year old boy like a natural, hefting William up to eye-level and attempting to extract a promise to be careful with the claws this time. Greer wasn’t really surprised to see no such explicit promise was actually forthcoming from her son, but as she watched carefully as her friend lifted her son up onto his shoulders and got him settled again, she noted that the claws had in fact been carefully sheathed again for the moment.

Hopefully that would last for a while. For herself, Greer took another moment just to let herself appreciate the sight of her son surveying his domain from his perch on the tall blonde man’s shoulders. Maybe William wouldn’t have a father, but with family like Clint, and Bobbi, and Simon (and even Jen, in spite of whatever it was she was actually trying to do over there with the cereal just now), she couldn’t feel like he’d fail to have things to make up for it.

And right now, if they could keep William in one place and within acceptable bounds of mischief for even a few minutes, that would certainly be welcome. You didn’t realize how much time there was in a morning to get yourself sorted out till it was gone because there was a little person who needed all of it, they could trust her on that.

That observation only brought back an immediate smirk from Bobbi though. “Obviously, you've never lived with Hawk,” she declared. Greer couldn’t help but smile again, wryly this time - she’d walked right into that very good point, hadn’t she? - as Clint Barton tried his best to sound indignant as he summoned some sort of protest. “I’m not that much of a handful.”

“More,” Jen retorted quietly (through a mouthful of cereal) for all of them as she headed back to the rest of the group, but Simon was already stepping in there with another sincere smile that he turned on her. “You look great, Greer,” he informed her, which Greer supposed was appreciated, along with Clint’s echoing of a similar sentiment, but all very well for them, and for him. He didn’t have to feel the sensation of milk splashes drying on fur and hair, or any of twenty other things she was probably going to forget if she gave any further into that smile beyond a tight-lipped one of her own that would have to pass for acknowledgement of the compliment.

It was a good smile though - one that always looked good on Simon, when he found it again. Greer might have felt even better about it if she hadn’t seen smiles like that crack and fall apart again much too quickly after they’d come. It was the kind of smile they’d all seen Wanda put on his face occasionally, and the bigger it was to begin, the more shattered pieces of Simon they ended up with after she Wanda-ed off again. If Dazzler was going to turn out the same way…

…well, there’d be time to deal with that later. For now she had a question from Clint she still hadn’t yet got around to answering. How long was William going to stay here? The only honest answer she had right now was that she didn’t know. Seeing him with her friends, riding on Clint, entranced by the green grimaces Jen was trying out on him had her smiling all over again, but that still seemed like a selfish kind of happiness, maybe even a stupid one, to risk her son by giving in to that desire to have him here today, not in a dimension where she’d know he could be safe.

She did want that though. She had to admit that much.

“It’s not selfish, Greer," Bobbi told her, turning her way again. Greer met her eyes, lifting her eyebrow just a fraction. It was what she wanted, not necessarily what was best or safest for William. Hard not to think of it as selfish when you came at it from that end. “He’s your son, he belongs Where you are.”

He belongs where he’s going to be safe, and that may not be with me, Greer almost said, but couldn’t quite bring herself to say. It felt like it might have made it harder to keep herself convinced that this would be okay, and she really, really did want Bobbi to be right right now, and for Clint to be right as he nodded firmly, and for Simon and Jen to be right when they added their own quieter, but no less assured nods to that.

“We’re getting our lives back, piece by piece, and I can’t think of a better place to start than him.”

“Making sure we’re rid of the giant robots that were designed to kill anyone with powers might be one,” Greer retorted, but the attempt at a dose of pessimism was no more than half-hearted, and given up on entirely by the time Clint had handed a somewhat out-of-her-depth looking Bobbi one of his trick arrowheads, and Simon had turned back to her with something he’d apparently forgotten to tell her earlier.

A daycare. A daycare that had been organized for the miracle daughter that Calvin Rankin had found at the Hound pens with Hone’s team yesterday. The safest one possible - what did that mean? Who did that mean? But she trusted Simon to be right about this, Greer knew without even having to think about it. She did want that, and she thanked him for it with the kind of sincerity she hadn’t mustered for the ridiculous words about her appearance.

“You keep him here however long you want," Bobbi added, turning back to her friend and meaning every word. "A day, a week, a year, permanently. We'll make it work.”

They would too, Greer didn’t have trouble believing that, as she tried to assure herself that it really was okay to relax into that feeling that was sneaking up again and trying to make itself a familiar one. Feeling like it wasn’t alone that she was doing this. It had been a long long time since she’d really been able to feel that fully, even in the team.

“Da-“ Clint started to say, then immediately corrected himself while Jen’s eyebrows rose silently, and Simon smirked all over again (if indeed he’d stopped for more than a second in any of this). “Darn right we will. You’re family.”

“Thank you, guys,” Greer told him, including them all in that heartfelt three words. Not alone. With family. It might still take a little while for that to feel like a familiar, expected normal, but it was getting easier by the second.

Especially with that easy, natural way Clint looked back up, bringing William back into the center of the conversation. “You hear that, kiddo? You’ve already got a new friend waiting for you. Whaddya think of that?”

Her son looked down at Hawkeye as Greer watched on, blue-tinged green eyes inspecting the archer’s blue ones closely, as though he’d find some extra information in there if he looked long enough. Finally though, he raised one little furred hand, and placed it carefully with one finger extended (thankfully, still without claws) on the end of Clint’s nose. “New friend. Here.”

“And if you’re going to let him put that putty in your hair, you’ll have one for life,” Greer added drily, wondering to herself whether there was any chance at all she’d be able to see their enthusiasm for adorable cat children into volunteering to help remove the inevitable putty that was almost certainly going to be liberally distributed through her son’s fur before the end of five minutes.

The look in his eyes right now more than made that inevitable end to this new toy worth it, though.
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Mockingbird
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Greer only had herself to blame. She'd opened the door right up to that one. She might not have adorable little kitten boys running around to take up all her time, but she did have Clint.

“Hey!” Clint said with mock-indignation. “I’m not that much of a handful.” Yeah, sure. He could keep believing that if it made him happy.

“More,” Jen retorted around a mouth full of Cheerios and saving her the trouble of doing it herself.
Bobbi did relent a little, though, letting the smirk turn into a smile as Simon assured Greer she looked great. Of course she did. She was pretty sure it was next to impossible for Tigra not to look great.

Adorable little furry kid perched on his shoulders (and god, that did things to her insides Bobbi hadn't expected at all and that didn't have anything to do with losing breakfast she hadn't even had yet), Clint chimed in to agree and Jen wandered back over to make faces at the kid some more. Or maybe she was just really digging into the box of cereal. It was hard to tell sometimes.

Mockingbird's attention was pulled off that, though, when Greer mentioned how long William was going to stay. Or should stay. Or could stay. Bobbi couldn't help frown. Didn't this mean he was here for good? Wanting her son around didn't sound selfish to her. Sure as hell not stupid.

Greer was meeting her eyes, brows lifted, and yeah, she knew what she was thinking. Or could guess pretty easily. World in a mess, they were all still officially terrorists and they were about to be in the middle of a war in earnest. Maybe if they weren't about to go out there and fight like hell to put an end to the worst of this, with any luck at all, she could agree with that. Would've, because there wasn't any way they could've kept him with the team and made sure he was safe. Not before now. But things had changed. Would change more, and for the better if they had anything to say about it at all.

William belonged here, with Greer. He was her son.

Hawk backed her up on that. No surprise there, not after what they'd just been talking about last night.

“We’re getting our lives back, piece by piece, and I can’t think of a better place to start than him.”

“Making sure we’re rid of the giant robots that were designed to kill anyone with powers might be one,” Greer retorted, still clinging to the title of Miss Most Pessimistic when even Bobbi herself, who'd normally give her a run for her money for that one, couldn't seem to muster much in the way of that this morning.

"Give us another day or two. It's been a slow week," Mockingbird shot back to her friend with a brief, wryly amused smile as she tried to figure out, well, what the hell to do to help entertain the cute little kid in question. Not giving him staves he'd do god knew what with. Probably start with knocking Clint unconscious. Finally, the blonde just held out her hand and decided a bite mark or two wouldn't be anything she couldn't deal with if he got too playful.

Turned out she didn't wouldn't need to, since Hawk was rummaging around and pulling out the end of a putty arrow. Taking it with a half grin, she handed it over to a curious William, who was already leaning over to see what was going on.

She let him entertain himself by pulling on it a little while she kept hold of it as it stretched, then pulled back. No way it wouldn't end up smeared all over him, and Clint's hair, but what could you do? She'd help clean it up after. Meanwhile Simon threw out some information he'd apparently forgot in all the extra dimpled smiling. Apparently, daycare arrangements were already made for Calvin Rankin's surprise daughter, so there'd be a place for William.

That seemed to settle it, even if Bobbi's curiosity was more than a little piqued at exactly what 'safest daycare possible' consisted of. As far as she was concerned, though, Greer could keep William (and jesus, she could just about hear Simon thinking of him as Tiger Tigra now) here as long as she wanted to. From a day to forever. They'd find a way to make it work. It's what they did. It's what family did.

“Da-“ Clint started to say, then immediately corrected himself as Bobbi shot him another knowingly amused smirk. Yeah, they'd have to get used to a little self-censoring. “Darn right we will. You’re family.”

“Thank you, guys,” Greer told him, all of them, and Bobbi smiled over at her friend again, meeting her eyes briefly. They'd all been through hell and back together, more than once. This was just one more thing they'd handle together, no thanks needed.

And that was that. Or almost that, since Clint was tilting his head back to look up at William and ask, "You hear that, kiddo? You’ve already got a new friend waiting for you. Whaddya think of that?”

William looked down at Clint's face with considering eyes that looked a shade or three different from Greer's, then carefully put one finger on Clint's nose, keeping his claws in like he'd been asked. “New friend. Here.”

Well, if Clint wasn't wrapped around his little furred finger before, he definitely was now. Bobbi couldn't say she was all that far behind herself. Yeah. She kinda wanted one've those. Sooner, rather than later.

“And if you’re going to let him put that putty in your hair, you’ll have one for life,” Greer added drily as the happy kitten baby in question managed to get the putty away from her.

"I'm not sure he'll have a choice," Since she wasn't gonna wrestle it away from him and she doubted Clint would, either. "He's had worse, in worse places," Bobbi assured her with a shake of her head as she watched the little furred boy pull on the putty curiously and with a look in his eyes that said Clint would be lucky if his hair was the only place that ended up covered in that. "We can always hose him off til he's presentable again."

Cat fur, yeah, that could be more of a problem, but she'd help Greer cross that bridge when the time came, if she needed help in the little furred kid putty removal department.

"Or as presentable as he usually is, anyway," the blonde added, looking around at the rest of her teammates, then turning back to Clint and trying to decide if that shadow on his nose was...yeah, that could be putty, couldn't it? Or maybe it was just the light. Either way, she wasn't saying a word.
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Hawkeye
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Sheesh. Even Jen was getting her shots in. She was the one who'd been threatening to go on a rampage if she didn't get Cheerios. Cheerios she was talking around a mouthful of, no less. Not that Clint was denying he could be a handful. He just wasn't in the same category as a three-year-old catbaby.

Ah, well. They loved it, and they had other things to focus on than working out how big of a handful everyone was. Like Greer, who looked fantastic. And happy, which was definitely part of why she looked so good, Clint suspected. And there was also the matter of how long William (not Tiger Tigra, no matter how much Simon seemed to favor that) would get to stay.

God, that look on Greer's face when she said how selfish she felt about wanting him here with her just for one day. Did that ever resonate with Clint. But Bobbi had been right last night. It wasn't selfish. Not this, and not with all Greer had done to ensure this awesome kid was safe. It was time they got their lives back. They'd earned it, and Clint couldn't imagine a better place to start than William.

“Making sure we’re rid of the giant robots that were designed to kill anyone with powers might be one,” Greer answered back. In a way she even had a point. They al wanted that, and hopefully today they'd actually see it happen, or close enough to it that it basically amounted to the same thing. But that was just part of not dying, which wasn't the same thing as living, and judging by the lack of real heat in the way Greer spoke, she must have agreed at least on some level.

Even so, Bobbi had the best possible reply for that. "Give us another day or two. It's been a slow week," his amazing wife said, even as she started to offer her hand in sacrifice to William's entertainment. No need to let that happen when Clint had plenty of trick arrows at his disposal. Most of those arrowheads were definitely not kid-friendly, but putty should be safe enough, and plenty of fun in the bargain. Sure enough, he was already leaning forward curiously as Bobbi took it with a slight smile.

As for Greer's concerns, Simon to the rescue, because if anyone could just pull a silver lining out of thin air, it was him. How about that? A daycare for that little girl they found in the pens. That was a great idea. Even if that wasn't the case, though, Clint easily put in a vote of solidarity with Bobbi. No matter how long Greer wanted to have her son here, they'd make it happen. She was family.

And whoops, little ears riding on Clint's shoulders. Had to be a bit more family-friendly about saying certain things, even if it came with a stereo smirk from Simon and Bobbi as well as incredulous eyebrows from Jen. What? Like he was a Cassidy or something?

“Thank you, guys,” Greer said, sounding pretty touched by the whole thing. Clint just smiled along with Bobbi. After everything they'd been through, this was just how they worked, and Greer was never going to be alone as long as any of them were around.

No leaving the kid out, either. He'd only just gotten here and there was already a playmate waiting for him. Pretty exciting stuff, Clint was sure, especially since he was probably still a little too young to have reached the 'girls have cooties' stage of childhood.

Big, blue-green kitten eyes regarded Clint curiously for a moment, as if he was sifting through what Clint had said for hidden information. Then he carefully reached toward Clint's face, claws still retracted, and touched the end of Clint's nose with a finger. “New friend. Here.”

God, that just did things to Clint's insides he couldn't even begin to describe. "Got that right, Sport," he said, probably smiling wide enough to give Simon a run for his money now, but he didn't care if anyone started turning his complaints about blinding everyone in sight back around on him. This kid was just a bundle of pure adorable and awesome. If he hadn't realized how badly he'd wanted on of his and Bobbi's own before, this clinched it.

“And if you’re going to let him put that putty in your hair, you’ll have one for life,” Greer said, possibly as a warning, since William had managed to grab it all away from Bobbi. See? He knew the kid would love it.

"I'm not sure he'll have a choice," Bobbi quipped. William was really going to town with the putty now. Stretching and smashing it with his paws. Who would think of taking it away from him when he was having this much fun? Bobbi seemed to concede that without it ever becoming a question in the first place, adding "He's had worse, in worse places," almost as an afterthought.

No denying that, considering all the weirdness they'd seen. Some of it had even been on purpose. Chuckling, Clint said, "Haven't we all?" He bounced his shoulders a bit, which raised another one of those cute kitten laughs from William, although his paw did go right to Clint's head for balance, so yeah, he'd be picking putty out of his hair before the morning was over, it looked like. Ah, well. Clint raised his eyes back up and said, "It's fun to get messy."

And it was. Anyone who tried to tell William different was just putting him on.

With a shake of her head, Bobbi said, "We can always hose him off til he's presentable again. Or as presentable as he usually is, anyway[.]" She looked around to everyone as she tacked on that last bit before turning her eyes back to Clint and giving him an odd look like she was working something out in her head.

"Standing right here," he reminded her in a wounded tone. He might not have a whole grooming ritual like Simon, but he still cleaned up well when he wanted to. Turning his eyes back to their fearless leader, he lifted his eyebrows curiously. "So what exactly makes this the 'safest daycare possible,' anyway?" he asked.

Then unconsciously wrinkled his nose a little. Did it feel kind of itchy or something? Probably just a little breeze.
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Wonder Man
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Oh yeah, the daycare!

Maybe he should have mentioned the daycare they’d organized for Hope (and James) already, for reasons that included the rare completely unshaded smile that Greer wore for a moment as she agreed that she did want that. At least it was out there now, so no harm done. And really a whole lot of good actually, when Bobbi threw in the assurance she’d know to give without asking (because Greer might well have relaxed her ban on humming and fur patting before she’d have requesting something like it) that they’d all do whatever it was they needed to make it work, so she could keep William (Tiger Tigra) Grant with her.

“Da-“ Clint started to say, then seemed to rethink that, just a little, coming back a moment later with a more primetime appropriate version, “Darn right we will. You’re family.”

Yeah, there was that look on Greer’s face again, as she thanked them. The one that hadn’t turned up too often in the last three years. Come to think of it, it wasn’t a kind of look that had spent much time on any of their faces in a long long time, but Simon liked to think that was going to be changing from here on out, and he liked even more that he could believe he wasn’t the only one thinking that right now.

“You hear that, kiddo? You’ve already got a new friend waiting for you. Whaddya think of that?” Clint asked, turning his attention back to the furry kid riding on top of his shoulders and kinda leaning down over his head like he thought there was wisdom to be gained there.

Pretty much the most adorable thing Simon could ever remember seeing in his life, when the little cat boy reached out with one little cat hand, and tapped Hawkeye on the nose, declaring him to be the new friend that he was interested in for the moment. Kinda made him wish he’d thought to bring along one of those floating cameras they’d been using yesterday, just to have the moment captured for easily available posterity. But he hadn’t, and none of the five of them here were going to ever forget, he didn’t think.

Though it did make part of him a little sad that Ali was missing this. Or wistful at least, to have been able to see what her expressive, smiling eyes might have made of the scene. Was it just him who felt like they were missing a part of the family who should have been here?

…okay, well, yes. It probably was. But he’d definitely be seeing about what he could do about that as soon as he could, because he was pretty sure he was the one who was right here. Definitely sure, actually. Absolutely sure.

Smiling ever wider again, Simon watched Clint confirm the self-evident truth of William’s declaration of friendependence, while Greer apparently had recovered herself to offer a trademark depressingly practical comment about the putty Bobbi and Clint had contrived between them to accidentally gift outright to one clearly utterly delighted Cat-Boy. Even her heart (or whatever body organ cynicism came from - the spleen? The kidneys?) wasn’t really in the pseudo-complaint though. You could tell.

“I’m not sure he'll have a choice,” Bobbi pointed out, while William set about pulling and kneading curiously at the stuff. “He’s had worse, in worse places.”

“Haven’t we all?” Clint asked, chuckling in good humor. Hearing Jen snort (thankfully without spraying cereal bits, thank god), Simon sent his gaze over her way, engaging in a quick tactical battle (fought with eyes alone) about who’d get the right of first reply to that. He won (a kind of rare upset, and one he probably had the cereal to thank for) and grinned, and shrugged back at Hawkeye. “Yes, but we’re not playing that game again. You always win.”

It seemed to be one of those things Hawk had some kind of uncanny knack for. All part of his charm, though!

“We can always hose him off til he's presentable again,” Hawk’s wife suggested, and did something about her tone suggest that she might be speaking from experience, or was that just his imagination? “Or as presentable as he usually is, anyway," the blonde added, looking around at the rest of her teammates who obligingly turned the expected considering gaze on the hapless harried Hawkeye.

“Standing right here,” he complained, right on script.

“And looking just as pretty as ever, Hawk-my-boy,” Simon assured him, though not without casting a second glance over his most presentable male teammate’s nose. Was that putty there? Already? Well, as long as Bobbi didn’t end up getting the hose out anywhere near Greer. Or probably Jess or Rogue at the moment, now he was thinking about it. They’d both had the look of women who wanted nothing to do with unexpected water for the forseeable future last night.

“So what exactly makes this the 'safest daycare possible,' anyway?" he asked, with a wrinkle of his nose that did nothing for that putty speculation.

Still, his business, or possibly Bobbi’s business, and definitely William’s business, as Greer’s son shifted a little to show off the way he could stretch his prize for Jen’s benefit, leaving something like part of a gray print on Clint’s forehead when he put his hand down there for balance.

God, now he really, really regretted the absence of video cameras.

“How about a reality warper from Genosha?” Simon suggested, smiling brightly again as he answered the other man’s question. Though that did end up dimming a little when he noticed Greer stiffening a little, turning a steady, but very, very directed gaze right at him for reasons that left Simon both mystified and kind of deflated (a little, anyway). What had happened to ‘thanks Simon, I would like that?’

“I thought you said Wanda had gone back last night,” she said, very evenly. Very evenly indeed. Not angry, and not even really accusing (why would he even think that would be accusatory? Except… okay, nothing to be gained going there).

“Huh?” Simon asked again, forehead wrinkling a little. He was wrinkling his forehead for her, that was how genuinely confused he was by this turn of not-quite icy tones and events. “She did.” Or at least he’d thought she did. Come to think of it, he’d never actually stopped to confirm that at the party, and certainly not afterward. Huh. Ah well, never mind, probably long past time to get this little mess cleared up, right? “I meant Mikhail Rasputin. He volunteered, when he heard about Hope,” Simon clarified, glancing around the rest of the team in a way he knew had to be coming off at least a little defensive.

Had he really been that bad about trying to coax Wanda into coming back and getting involved again, to deserve that kind of assumption? He…

..oh, okay. Fine, yeah. Maybe a little. Or a lot. Or… okay.
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Mockingbird
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Let the wrapping of Hawkeye around the little furred finger of what had to be the cutest little cat baby kid ever. Clint was a goner. If he wasn't before, he sure as hell was after William pronounced him his new friend, complete with a careful tapping of one little finger (possibly putty covered; yeah, she was gonna owe Greer an apology and probably some help de-puttying the baby for that one) on Clint's nose. Also now possibly sporting a dollop of putty. Or maybe that was just a shadow.

Either way, Bobbi's lips were sealed.

"Got that right, Sport," Hawk confirmed, with Greer throwing in that letting William putty his hair within an inch of it's life would get him friend status for life. Not like it looked like Clint was going to have a choice in the matter and trust her. He'd had worse in worse places.

At least he was taking it in stride as she watched William stretch and pull and roll the putty around and generally have a ball with it. "Haven't we all?" he threw out with a chuckle, bringing on some battle of wills between Jen and Simon for rights to throw out what came next apparently. In an unusual upset, Simon actually won that one.

“Yes, but we’re not playing that game again. You always win.” Jesus, that was the truth. Bobbi wasn't sure how he managed, but he did. She smile all the same, shaking her head as Clint lifted his shoulders up and down to bounce William (sure as hell not Tiger Tigra) around a little.

"It's fun to get messy." Yeah, there was that and Clint made the most of it. Good thing he thought so, too, since she was pretty positive this time that William had left a putty hand print right there on his forehead and in his hair as he balanced himself, then turned to show off his new toy to Jen. Well, they could always just hose him off until he was presentable again. Or as presentable as he usually was, anyway. Hawk, that was, not William. Bobbi threw that out there to the whole gang with a half-smirk.

"Standing right here," he reminded her in a wounded tone that had one blonde brow lifting his way as a minor debate about that shadow on his nose still went back and forth in her head in the background. What, he suddenly couldn't take a little teasing now?

“And looking just as pretty as ever, Hawk-my-boy,” Simon assured him in that affable, not bothered by much of anything way Simon always had and the blonde often wished she could borrow a little of. So, since the morning hadn't had the best start, she reached over to rest one hand briefly on Clint's back for a second and bit back the urge to snap at him. She loved him to death, putty covered or not. Hell, maybe especially putty covered.

"So what exactly makes this the 'safest daycare possible,' anyway?" [Clint] asked and yeah, she had to wonder that, too. Other than one on the helicarrier with however many, and whoever, was staying behind to keep an eye on things. By itself, that was probably pretty damned safe, but Bobbi turned curious blue eyes Simon's way, since he was the bearer of daycare news.

“How about a reality warper from Genosha?” Simon suggested, smiling brightly again, even for Wondey, but Mockingbird barely noticed. She was too damned busy staring at him. Oh jesus, no he hadn't? Both her brows headed north then and Bobbi turned her head enough to look over to Greer. Hoping she'd maybe imagined he'd just said that.

No, not judging by the way Tigra was stiffened up, trying to possibly set him on fire with her eyes alone.

“I thought you said Wanda had gone back last night,” [Greer] said, very evenly and thank god Simon was pretty invulnerable, because he might need that in a minute. God. No, he couldn't have, could he? Not that she didn't like Wanda, in a general kind of way. When she wasn't breaking Simon into small pieces for everybody else to put back together. But..

"Simon, you didn't-" Bobbi started to ask their pretty damned confused looking fearless leader who should probably be at least a little fearful, too, right about now if he'd actually gotten Wanda Maximoff to babysit Greer's kid. Or a lot damned fearful. Well, it'd been a nice meeting while it lasted.

“Huh?” Simon asked again, forehead wrinkling a little and still looking damned confused. Not sure how, because Bobbi knew he was smarter than that. “She did.” Except he didn't look so sure about that, either. “I meant Mikhail Rasputin. He volunteered, when he heard about Hope,” Simon clarified, giving them all that defensive 'how could you have thought anything else' look that Bobbi wasn't buying. But at least it was a relief to know he hadn't completely lost his damned mind.

"So the big Russian guy?" Bobbi said, or asked. Maybe more asked, because right now some definites in the way of clarification would probably go a long way. "Is babysitting? By choice?" she added, looking over to Clint, then Jen, and back to Greer again and not quite sure what to make of it. Well, beyond 'wouldn't have ever guessed that'. But, hell, it wasn't Wanda. That was a point in his favor right there, she'd think.
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Hawkeye
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Of course Clint always won that game. He worked with a lot of pointy things and his very first bully's favorite game was pushing him in elephant dung. He'd had weird things in places other people didn't even know they had.

But that wasn't the point. The point was that getting messy was fun, and how could anyone say no to those eyes and that smile, even if it meant a little putty in his hair? He was probably getting it all over his fur, too, so they'd probably both be picking it out together.

They didn't have to go talking about him like he wasn't even there, though. He cleaned up nicely enough, and hoses hardly ever needed to be involved, really.

“And looking just as pretty as ever, Hawk-my-boy,” Simon said jovially, which was one of those compliments you could never be entirely sure was a compliment, but if not, he'd at least been nice enough to tease him directly. Bobbi's hand came to his back and Clint turned a quick smile her way, faltering slightly when he caught the expression on her face. Had he missed something? Or maybe she was still having stomach issues.

Whatever it was, it seemed to pass as quickly as it came, and the blonde archer decided to go ahead and ask the question that he guessed was on everyone's mind. How exactly had they made the safest daycare possible? Apart from it being on a heavily armored flying fortress occupied by the mightiest heroes on Earth?

William's paw brushed Clint's forehead as he turned to show off his toy to Jen, who was more than happy to serve as an audience to him.

“How about a reality warper from Genosha?” Simon said to answer Clint's question. He was smiling, like that was supposed to sound like a great idea. God, no. It had seemed like he'd been doing so well last night. Just what had Simon gone and done?

He wasn't the only one giving Simon a look. Bobbi was staring at him too, and Greer had definitely tensed up before turning a hard, flat gaze his way.

“I thought you said Wanda had gone back last night,” she said, and if Simon knew what was good for him, he'd answer that very carefully.

"Simon, you didn't-" Bobbi began to say, and Clint really hoped for Simon's sake that he hadn't.

“Huh?” their dark-haired fearless leader said. Off to a bad start, Simon. Better work on that recovery while the ladies were still willing to give you the chance. “She did.” Better. That was a little better, although he didn't sound quite as sure about that as he probably stood. Still, Clint was willing to cut him a break there, since the pressure was on. “I meant Mikhail Rasputin. He volunteered, when he heard about Hope,” he said, and okay, that was good enough to silence the alarm bells that had been ringing a second ago.

He wasn't fooling anyone with that look he was turning toward everyone, though. They all knew him better than that, matter what he might be telling himself.

Still, that was interesting news, all right. "So the big Russian guy?" Bobbi said, which was one way of putting it, Clint supposed, except his brother was just as big, from what he'd seen. "Is babysitting? By choice?" Her blue eyes passed the question along to first him, then Shulkie and finally Greer.

Clint shrugged, since her guess was probably as good as his. Still, that didn't stop him from making one. "Well, he is with Laynia, right?" he said. For all they knew this could be an excuse for him to hang around with her a bit longer than he usually did. Or maybe Laynia was hiding a secret kid herself. There might be babies everywhere.

Looking back up at William, Clint said, "Wanna hang out with Bobbi for a sec?" He lifted the catbaby off his shoulders and offered him over to his wife. Maybe a bit reluctantly, but he couldn't go hogging Greer's kid all to himself.

Then, almost as an afterthought, Clint looked back to Simon. "So, how is Wanda doing, anyway?"

Even though she had a pretty solid track record for breaking Simon, she was still a friend and former teammate. Clint felt a bit guilty for not having at least said hello to her last night when they'd had the chance.
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Tigra
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Well, she couldn’t argue that Bobbi had a point yet again. Now that William had the putty, Clint wasn’t going to get a choice about the putty in the hair. Or the nose. Or the forehead.

Though Greer still did resolve to herself that no matter if her friends put up with this, and even if they help her with removing the putty that her son was probably going to have all through his fur by the end of five minutes, if not much earlier, if Bobbi wanted to make good on that joke about hosing her husband down, she was going to be on his own.

Didn’t seem like Hawk had much appreciated the dig about his presentability though, the way he was turning kicked puppy eyes at a wife who knew better by now than to give into their guilt trip. “Standing right here,” he tried all the same, making Greer smile very slightly, just around the corners of her mouth, and arch her eyebrows just a little ceiling-ward.

Would he really like it more if they saved the teasing for when he was out of earshot? He had to know them better than that by now. This was Family.

Cue Simon sliding into the breach, playing Family Smoothenator as usual with another smiling Simonism. Clint seemed a little suspicious even of that (what had got into him this morning to get him twitchy?), but at least it broke up the moment long enough for he and everyone else to move on, with the next question he directed to Simon about the ‘safest’ designation he’d put on that daycare.

Which was, Greer had to acknowledge, a very, very excellent question. Not that she didn’t trust Simon not to exaggerate about that, when it was the safety of little children at stake, but…

“How about a reality warper from Genosha?”

Wait. Did she still time to put a but into that last thought? A Reality Warper. From Genosha. Add those two facts to the smile Simon was still wearing, and Tigra found herself rapidly reevaluating a few of the assumptions she’d been making ever since she got eyes and nose on Wonder Man this morning.

He wouldn’t. Why would he tell her that, with that smile… unless he’d completely and utterly lost his mind this time?

Even though the smell still didn’t quite add up (that wasn’t Wanda that the still-lingering hint of scent on him belonged to), and neither did the throwaway answer he’d made to her best attempt at a subtle inquiry when they’d talked this morning. But he was… smiling. Like that. “I thought you said Wanda had gone back last night,” she said, very evenly.

Outside of any dealings with Simon, Greer supposed she could have said that Wanda was a perfectly pleasant human being. Or mutant, if she preferred to call herself that these days. She was perfectly content with the knowledge that Wanda Maximoff existed in the world, especially on days when she was on the other side of it.

But as some kind of nanny?

If she was going to give her son up to someone, she wanted to be damn sure they were going to give him back at the end of the day. Not say a hex and claim that he’d been theirs all along, and she knew too much about that woman (not to mention that ticking biological detonator clock that had just about become a byword to anyone who’d ever been to Genosha), to feel as perfectly comfortable as she needed to on that front.

Oh sure. He could try to hide under a cloud of confusion she could tell was genuine, or at least pretty near to it, but that wasn’t going to save him from that question. Or from the one Bobbi had started to ask just before he got his wonder lips around a wonder syllable.

“Huh?” No, that wasn’t going to help him at all, or relax the still, firm expression she was giving him one iota. “She did,” he added, and for that, Greer allowed a slight easing of the tension in her muscles, though keeping herself ready to put that all back the first moment he gave her reason to. But he only went on to explain that he’d been talking about the elder of the two Rasputin brothers. Who, Greer supposed (reluctantly), could definitely be described as a reality warper from Genosha.

If Simon wanted to talk about big Russians who were built like they could have been his twin though, he had no business misleading them all with that smile. No business at all.

Mikhail Rasputin. Greer felt herself relax a little, the fur down her spine settling back toward smooth flatness as her ears passed the message on slowly to the rest of her body. Mikhail… yes. She could approve of Mikhail, even if Bobbi looked like she still might have at least a few doubts hanging about. “So the big Russian guy?” she asked. “Is babysitting? By choice?"

Clint shrugged, looking like he might have had some of the same confusion. ”Well, he is with Laynia, right?" he said, which might not have come out quite the way he’d meant it to.

It certainly seemed to bring Jen out of whatever game of facial expressions she’d been involved with with William, as she turned big green eyes on Hawk, with raised eyebrows. “How does she make him a childcare specialist?”

“Mikhail loves kids,” Greer interjected, smiling quickly at her son when he looked her way, then back down to Clint and Bobbi. “We’ve talked about it before.” Or she had with Laynia. The Russian woman might be quiet, but that certainly wasn’t the same as having nothing to say, if you got to know her.

Read between the lines of what the teleporter had to say on certain subjects, and it wasn’t hard to see - especially if you were coming at it from the position of a mother missing her son, every single day - and there were a few things that weren’t too hard to tell.

Meanwhile, a reluctant Clint was offering an intrigued-looking William over to Bobbi. Watching that play out, Greer was nearly too late to see the expression he’d turned back on Simon.“So, how is Wanda doing, anyway?” he asked, and she wasn’t too late to see the subtle, almost perceptible shift in their team leader’s features. Not even so much a change of expression, so much as a change in where he was producing it from, if you knew him well, like they all did.

Not that that had ever helped much, on the occasions when Simon decided to retreat behind a smiling, friendly politeness that didn’t mislead, or even alarm, but simply didn’t give a clue about what he really thought about a subject. Sometimes it was easy to forget that however outgoing and heart-on-his-sleeve he might be, he could be as private as anyone with what he didn’t want people to know. “She seemed well,” he told Hawkeye, as smoothly as he might have made small-talk at a social event, and with a smile that Greer could almost have convinced herself she was only being paranoid to wonder about. “I’m sure she’d be glad of the chance to tell you herself, though.”

Hmm. Well, that might actually appeal to Hawk, who knew Wanda a whole lot better than the rest of them. Being only moderately interested in the prospect of hearing Wanda Maximoff talk about herself yet again though, Greer was still watching Simon’s smile. It wasn’t the same one he’d been wearing when he’d come in the room, but that was probably a good thing, if they were discussing Wanda. Wasn’t it?
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Now what?

What was that smiling and then almost not thing Clint was giving her there? What? God, and he accused her of shifting moods like she was driving a five speed on a race track.

Bobbi's frown deepened half a second, hand still on his back, then she said fuck it and gave up. Put it down to a morning full of surprises and stress and move on.

Move on to maybe Clint getting covered in putty, that is, but even Mockingbird couldn't keep a frown going though that and William's enjoyment of it. And his obvious determination to share it with as many people as he could. Including Jen, but mostly Clint since he was the one currently with it on his nose, and forehead, and in his hair.

At least the blonde had thought she had that frown banished, right until Clint asked the obvious, but apparently depth charged question of just what, exactly, made it the world's safest daycare. Other than the fact it was on a giant, almost impenetrable, flying aircraft carrier.

Since the answer was 'a reality warper from Genosha', their fearless leader was going to have to excuse the damned staring. From her. And a glance to the side told her from Clint, too. Greer, on the other hand, had gone still and stiff and Bobbi could practically see her friends hackles rising. It was right there in that very, very even tone of voice.

Cleared up soon enough. Mikhail Rasputin, not Wanda Maximoff, who may or may not have gone home last night. And that vagueness didn't do a damned thing to stop Bobbi wondering just who Simon had been doing all that smiling about since they'd got here. She'd assumed Dazzler, but now she was almost wondering again.

He wouldn't, would he? He'd barely even noticed she was there last night, at least from what Bobbi had seen and-

That look wasn't getting him in slack here, either. They knew him. And, dammit, he would. He had more than once. So he didn't get to give them that 'what are you guys talking about, why are you thinking that' look. Not and expect them to buy it.

The former Agent shelved that for a second, though, to go back to this babysitting thing. So the big Russian guy (there were a pair, but they knew which one they meant, the one that looked like the least likely babysitter in human history) was babysitting. By choice. Huh.

Clint shrugged as she looked around at him and Jen and Greer. Maybe she was missing something?

"Well, he is with Laynia, right?" Clint asked, and now she was frowning at him again, this time because she was confused.

That got Jen's attention, too, enough to distract her from the Cheerios and get one green brow arched at Hawk. “How does she make him a childcare specialist?”

"Or do you think she needs babysitting?" she tried to guess, since that's the only other thing she could come up with. They didn't look all that far apart in age to her.

“Mikhail loves kids,” Greer interjected, smiling quickly at her son when he looked her way, then back down to Clint and Bobbi. “We’ve talked about it before.” Just went to show you never could tell, the blonde guessed. At least Tigra seemed fine with that and that was the main thing.

"Wanna hang out with Bobbi for a sec?" Hawk was looking up at William, then lifted him off his shoulders and handed him over. Putty and all.

Yeah, she probably deserved that.

"C'mere, Big Guy," Mockingbird told him, taking him a little tentatively, not really sure at first what to do with him. Then gave a mental shrug and settled him on her hip, smiling and pulling at the putty with him as he grinned that cute little cat boy fangy grin and took swipes at her hair that probably meant she'd need some de-putty-ing of her own.

"So, how is Wanda doing, anyway?" That was her husband, feeding fuel into the fire.

Maybe that wasn't fair. Actually, Bobbi knew it wasn't. She didn't exactly hate Wanda. In fact, she liked her and always had. She just liked her far away from Simon and the complete damned destruction she tended to wreak on him when she was over whatever sent her running to him this time and was ready to go back to Vision.

“She seemed well,” [Simon] told Hawkeye, as smoothly as he might have made small-talk at a social event, smiling like he always smiled, sounding like he always sounded. But she hadn't known Simon all this long for nothing. “I’m sure she’d be glad of the chance to tell you herself, though.”

It was a damned good try, she'd give Simon that.

Bobbi smiled down at William again, doing what she could to extract what was left of the putty arrow out of his hands and leaving answering for Clint to field for a second. Or off Williams hands, he had the stuff everywhere. And he was treating trying to get it off of/away from him as a game.

Mockingbird kept at it, though, letting him play around as long as he didn't decide to take a taste test on her finger, eyes lifting and going sidelong over toward Greer. Who was watching Simon's face. How the hell were they supposed to take all this?

"And Dazzler?" Bobbi went ahead and asked casually, looking over at their team leader now. "How's she? Gotta say, as friendly as you two seemed last night, I'm surprised she wasn't tagging along this morning."

Did that mean anything? Maybe not, considering how he'd been smiling. Or maybe that was a warning sign all by itself if she'd already wandered off. Former singer, former X-Man, former Hellfire Queen, former god knew what, never seemed to stick with anything, pink, smiling girl that didn't seem to take anything seriously.

Was he just trading one Wanda for a newer, pinker, shinier one?
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Hawkeye
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Okay, so the babysitter wasn't Wanda. Thank God for that. Simon had given them all a bit of scare with that, and Greer probably had more reasons than just his rocky history with the Scarlett Witch to object to the idea of her looking after her son. He might have saved himself a little trouble by saying it was Mikhail from the start, but when did Simon ever say anything outright when he had the option to build it up for effect?

Bobbi sounded like she might be dubious of the big Russian's willingness to babysit without a little armtwisting, but after thinking about it for a second, it seemed to Clint that it would be a pretty good excuse to hang around and be near Darkstar. They didn't get to do that very often, after all, unless she went over to Genosha. Which, come to think of it, she probably did fairly often. Teleporters. Yeah.

For some reason his comment had Bobbi frowning again, and Jen lifting her eyebrows incredulously. “How does she make him a childcare specialist?” the jade giantess said.

"Um, it doesn't?" he said, or guessed, or something. He was too confused now to know which.

"Or do you think she needs babysitting?" Bobbi asked next. Whoa, whoa, that was... Did another question slip in there without him noticing that they thought he was talking about instead of the one about why he agreed to babysit Hope?

Greer to the rescue, though. “Mikhail loves kids,” she said, giving William a total mom-smile. “We’ve talked about it before.”

Yeah, that was a better explanation than Clint's guess. Although it did absolutely nothing to stop him from wondering if Darkstar and Mikhail were also raising a secret baby.

Well, none of his business either way. In the meantime, he really shouldn't keep William all to himself, even if holding him on his shoulders was doing nothing to stop Jen or Bobbi from entertaining themselves. Bobbi didn't exactly hesitate when he offered curious and adorable kid to her, though.

Maybe there was a little hesitation after she took him in his arms, like she was trying to figure out what to do with him, but after a bit she settled on placing him against her hip the same way Greer had held him. He grinned at her and started batting at her hair with his putty covered paws, just about as adorable as could be.

God, Bobbi looked kind of perfect like that. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. It made something in Clint's chest turn to mush just looking at the two of them together.

Tempting as it was to just watch that, Clint had a question of his own for Simon. Wanda. They'd missed the chance to talk to her, and now she was apparently back home. Simon might have been the only one to spend any time with her (and not too much, thank God), so Clint went ahead and asked how she was doing.

He might have been opening himself up to a few warning glares with that, but they were friends and went way back almost to the very first days of the Avengers. As long as she and Simon didn't put the rest of them on red alert or damage control mode, he really didn't have a problem with her, and kind of regretted missing the chance to say hello.

One of Simon's stock smiles sprang to life then. The kind that felt not so much like an iron gate as a decorative curtain. “She seemed well,” he said in a perfectly casual tone, smile drifting a bit closer to its previous warmth as he did so. “I’m sure she’d be glad of the chance to tell you herself, though.”

Yeah, he'd like to do that, too. Clint nodded and said, "I'll have to call her up, then." Maybe it was even better to do it over the webcam, for that matter. It'd be nice to say hello to Vision, as well. He still thought it was a bit strange he hadn't come to the party with her.

"And Dazzler?" Bobbi asked then, looking up from what might have been a game she was playing with William. He seemed to think so, at least, but Clint had a feeling she was trying to get the putty away from him before he got it on more of her hair. "How's she? Gotta say, as friendly as you two seemed last night, I'm surprised she wasn't tagging along this morning."

Yeah, they were going to get to that eventually, weren't they? And this was just as good a time as any. Clint wanted to know, too, because as okay as Ali might have seemed, none of them really knew her that well. For now, though, he was going to let the ladies field this, if for no other reason than getting in the middle of it could land him in more trouble than he was ready for. He could always have a heart to heart with Simon later, when it was just guy time, and he planned to do exactly that.

Clint's nose twitched again, and he reached up to brush it with the back of his hand, only for it to come away with a little streak of grey. Ha! He'd been nose-puttied. Just went to prove his earlier joke when they'd been getting messy. Heck, maybe being just as pretty as always was the reason Bobbi and the rest had been giving him a good-natured hard time.

Dang it! That would have been a great thing to say in response to Simon. L'esprit de l'escalier strikes again.

Hmm, What William needed was a new toy to make him forget the putty. Keeping one eye and ear on the conversation going on, Clint started rummaging around for another arrowhead to entertain the kid with. There had to be something in there that wouldn't make more of a mess or send Greer tackling him before he got a chance to use it.
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Wonder Man
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Yeah, the Big Russian guy (or one of them. Come to think of it, Simon wasn’t sure he’d ever met a small Russian guy) was taking babysitting duty. By choice. Not that Simon could blame Bobbi at all for that skeptical look she was sending around the group, because he kinda had to admit he’d had to suppress a similar one when he’d heard about Mikhail Rasputin’s offer.

But Greer had seemed pretty content as soon as she’d heard the name, so that was pretty much all that mattered in the end. They could just let Clint and the other two have whatever conversation they felt they needed about whether being with Laynia was sufficient explanation for being willing (or was it qualified?) to babysit a group of toddlers. Greer interrupted in the end though - that was maybe a good thing, because with Clint and Bobbi involved, the talking at cross purposes could probably have gone on forever - supplying the information that Mikhail loved kids (where had she got that from, then?), while smiling a little distractedly at her son.

They really needed to do what they could to give her more opportunities to use that smile.

Meanwhile though, Clint was gently lifting William back off his shoulders, while asking him if he wanted to hang with Bobbi for a second. Judging by the expression on the little guy’s furry face, the answer seemed to be yes, even if Bobbi was eyeing him in turn with an expression that maybe looked a little bit like she’d been offered a ticking bomb.

Well, actually, give one of those to Mockingbird, you’d probably get it back defused in under ten seconds. So more the kind of expression other people reserved for ticking bombs. “C’mere, Big Guy,” she told William, as she took him (very carefully) out of Clint’s hands. But she did take him, and within a second or two, seemed to have summoned up some idea of how to go about it, settling Greer’s son against her side and attempting a little tug of war with the putty, while the grinning Cat Boy snuck in a few more free swipes at her hair where it dangled in reach.

Absolutely adorable, no question about it.

Though the comment that Simon had been about to make to that point disappeared right off his tongue the next moment, when Clint snuck in a question that he hadn’t been expecting (even though he probably should have been). ”So, how is Wanda doing, anyway?”

Wanda was…

Half a dozen answers to that question flashed through Simon’s mind, along with a flash-cut fast dissolve recap of his conversation with her, and the request he’d been pretty successfully managing to avoid thinking about since. But since he doubted that Wanda would have liked him talking about that to other people, even their friends, anymore than he wanted to speak about it himself right now, better to stick to one of the all-purpose basics. She’d seemed well, he told Clint with a smile, and she’d probably be glad of the opportunity to tell her old teammate all of that for herself sometime. She had to be missing her old friends, even if she hadn’t quite said as much last night, between one thing and another.

That seemed enough for Hawk, who nodded, looking pleased with the idea. “I’ll have to call her up, then.”

So that was that, and that made it time to go back to watching William with Bobbi, regretting all over again that he hadn’t thought to bring a camera to record those sticky paws that the little boy seemed to be set on keeping just out of Mock’s reach. Had he mentioned adorable yet? He glanced toward Greer, flashing a smile her way for the one she was wearing again as she watched her son’s game unfold, only to be surprised by the realization that now Bobbi looking at him again.

“And Dazzler?” she asked casually. Or at least, you would have thought it was casually if you couldn’t feel the weight of Greer’s gaze very intentionally not fixing itself on you. Nevertheless, Simon’s smile widened just at the mention of her name. Or, well, her codename. “How’s she? Gotta say, as friendly as you two seemed last night, I'm surprised she wasn't tagging along this morning.”

Simon only beamed wider. Thinking about Ali last night (not to mention this morning. And this morning again), would do that to a guy. “She’s fantastic!” he replied happily, with all enthusiasm, before reluctantly letting his smile dim a bit. It did seem kind of empty still, without her right there next to him, even if hadn’t been very long. And she would have loved meeting William - he didn’t even have to guess about that. “She had other things to do, though,” Simon added conversationally (by way of explanation for Bobbi).

And he at least was ready to have that be that, simple and complete, right up to the point where he noticed the level look Greer was directing at him all over again.

Wait. What had he said this time?

Oh man. Oh.. oh man! She didn’t think he would have just brought Ali along to this meeting without asking her whether it was okay first, did she? Well, he could clear that up quickly, no problem. Ali wasn’t part of the of family (yet. He did kinda have hopes, though), and he knew that’s what she’d wanted for introducing her son to the others. “…and I figured you’d want this to be just us, for now?” Simon suggested, not perfectly happy with himself for letting that come out as something a little more like a question than the generally self-evident statement he’d intended it to be.

There! That should clear that up, right?
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Mockingbird
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Well, if that wasn't what it meant, why'd he say it?

Alright, never mind. It was too early in the damned morning for this much confusion, so Bobbi settled for another confused look. Then Greer stepped in, thank god, and got that more or less straightened out.

All in all, she couldn't argue with the safety factor. Not with a six foot five or so reality warper who could practically wave his hand and send whatever he wanted into another dimension or turn it into a snow-cone stand watching over things.

So that was settled and she suddenly had William, who was still adorable as hell, even if she wasn't quite sure what to do with him. Bobbi figured it out, though, after a few seconds and he seemed happy enough settled there on her hip, getting putty in her hair now, too, and generally not letting her get the main ball of sticky gray stuff away from him.

He thought it was a game and that was okay. She'd had worse all over her, too, god knew. For a half-second, Mockingbird looked over toward he husband with a half-smile. Yeah, onev'e these of their own around on a full time basis might be pretty okay.

Getting back into the subject of Wanda, Bobbi wasn't so sure about, but Clint was diving right in anyway. Nothing more than how was she, etc, but the former Agent 19 was watching Simon's face more than listening to the answer. Either one told her enough. Or maybe not nearly enough.

Fearless Wonder Leader was deflecting and damned if she was quite sure why. Or maybe it was that she was afraid she did. Had they missed the mark about him and Dazzler? Or had he changed his mind after running into Wanda last night (and not knowing what Wanda had been up to, exactly, with the quick appearance and disappearance, didn't help, either) at some point of-

Damn confusion. It was still too damned early in the morning.

"I'll have to call her up, then." That was Clint, answering Simon's suggestion the he should talk to the Scarlet Witch himself. Yeah, it actually would be good to talk to Wanda again. And Vision. As long as things were safely out of the 'pick up the sad broken pieces of Simon' area. Bobbi hoped to god it was, but they'd hoped that before.

And now, there was a new player on the field. A pink, pretty damned literally shiny one. A former pop singer, former Hellfire something or damned other, former god knew what that didn't seem to take anything very damned seriously. Possibly including Simon.

He did a good job sometimes of trying to pretend he could deal with that, but Bobbi knew better. So. Dazzler. How was shej? Little surprised not to see her in the room, since they'd looked merged at the hip, or the dimples or something last night last she'd seen.

If she needed any more proof that Simon might already be in over his head, it was the wider smile that popped up as soon as the other woman's codename was out of her mouth. It just got wider after that and Jesus. Houston, they might have a damned problem here.

“She’s fantastic!” he replied happily, with all enthusiasm, and that told her a little more. Then that smile on his face dimmed from completely blinding down to moderately stunning as he added, “She had other things to do, though,” Simon added conversationally and Bobbi felt a muscle in her jaw twitch, though she kept a smile right there on her face for William as she pulled at the putty again, setting him to laughing and pulling back. Then smearing some've it in her hair again for good measure.

Clint seemed to have found the smear on his nose by now. At least they'd match.

Greer didn't bother, sending another of those flat looks over at Simon as Bobbi turned her own blue eyes to Tigra, her own smile dimming down considerably then. Other things to do? How damned many times had they heard that one before? Usually about Wanda?

“…and I figured you’d want this to be just us, for now?”

Now he was backpedaling and that wasn't a very damned good sign, either. They'd seen this before, gone through this before and, dammit, they did not need a new Wanda on the scene. Simon didn't need a new Wanda. Shit.

With a look to Greer that said all the things she couldn't actually say in front of Wondy, then a similar look to Clint, Bobbi paused, smiled at William again and let got of the putty in favor of giving his tummy a little tickle. Then dodging an attempt to grab her arm with little kitten boy teeth as he squirmed and let out another little laugh.

"Probably not a bad idea," Mockingbird agreed, looking back over to Simon. "She seems nice enough," the blonde added, trying to figure out how the hell to put this that wouldn't hurt his feelings or send him into a spiral of 'you can't tell me who to like' or some damned thing, "but you don't know her that well yet." None of them did, and what they did know, and had seen, were a little damned concerning.

Another look to Greer. For some help here or agreement or whatever backup she could get. Intervention if she needed it. Something.

"Maybe taking things slow might not be a bad idea right now," Bobbi added, not without some hint of concern for her friend and team leader.Said the woman who'd married a guy she knew all of about ten days. Yeah. Why the hell was she even trying to do this?

To try to avoid sad, broken Simon again, Mockingbird told herself. She'd just have to hope for some backup here.
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Hawkeye
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Friendly. That was kind of an understated way to describe Simon and Dazzler last night. The night before during beer pong too, for that matter. The two of them were starting to seem downright inseparable. Even the mention of her name made Simon's smile grow. He was in deep, no question about it.

There was a whole lot hinging on that deceptively casual question. Bobbi sure could make the most out of a good segue. So how was Dazzler?

Dazzler- the currently absent and not even mentioned until now source of that still-widening, still-brightening smile on Simon's face. Jeez, this could really mean trouble.

“She’s fantastic!” Simon said without hesitation. So then, why was their leader's smile starting to lose a little of that deluxe gleam? “She had other things to do, though,” he explained, and Clint might have visibly winced if he wasn't busy searching for another arrowhead to distract William with. Bobbi's expression looked equally controlled as she smiled at William, still engaged in a putty tug of war that had him laughing with delight.

'Other things to do.' Crap, that was a really bad sign. How many times had things with Wanda started going downhill for Simon with a version of that phrase?

Greer's eyes had flattened as she abandoned all pretense of not looking at Simon, and he seemed to realize that something in his answer was making them more than a little concerned.

“…and I figured you’d want this to be just us, for now?” he said, which wasn't nearly as good a recovery as he was probably hoping. In a lot of ways it only made things worse. This was way too close to the pattern they'd all become familiar with. Shit. What were they going to do if Dazzler turned out to be another Wanda?

Bobbi and Greer shared a look before his wife met his eyes next. Yeah, this was one time where they didn't need to say a word to know what each of them were thinking, was it? Then she smiled down at William again, risking her fingers, hand and probably her whole arm as she tickled the kid's tummy. He laughed and tried to nip at her, but she was too quick for him.

"Probably not a bad idea," she finally said to Simon. She had that look that said she was working overtime to pick her words carefully. "She seems nice enough, but you don't know her that well yet."

Clint had a feeling Simon might object to that, but how well could he possibly know her? She did seem nice, but that didn't mean she was going to stick around if Simon got too attached. If anything, Clint had a feeling she'd head for the hills at the first sign of things getting anything more than casual.

And they'd be the ones left with broken bits of Simon to try to put back together.

"Maybe taking things slow might not be a bad idea right now," Bobbi said after giving Greer another look. Probably looking for a little help. If they managed to get out of this without hurting Simon's feelings or pissing him off, it would be a miracle.

So much for staying out of it. Bobbi was sticking her neck out, and could probably use a bit of support. Clint finished fishing around for another arrowhead and came out with a suction cup. He pressed it into his palm to demonstrate for William before handing it over, then looking back toward Simon.

"Mock's got a point," he said carefully, giving her a quick look in case she wanted him to shut the hell up after all. "I mean, there's no need to rush into things, right?"

Yeah, that didn't sound completely hypocritical, did it? It wasn't easy to come up with a nicer way to say it, though, and the main thing was making sure Simon didn't get hurt.
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Tigra
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Alright, the prize went to Mockingbird, for being the first to crack and mention the Dazzling, glowing pink elephant that might as well have been in the room. She’d managed it casually - at least as casually as Bobbi managed anything, anyway - though as she turned to watch Simon react to the question and comment from their teammate, Greer had to wonder to herself if maybe Mock could have spared herself even the amount of effort at disguise that she’d taken.

The ever-present smiles (not to mention the lingering traces of scent she’d already mentioned to him) that had been hanging on Simon like a new wardrobe ever since she’d opened the door to him this morning were suddenly only preparation, as an even bigger, brighter smile bloomed right on over his face, just at the mention of the pink woman’s codename. And that was only warning for the answer of ‘fantastic’ he was bubbling and beaming over everything.

Tigra wished she hadn’t seen the dimming of the smile that appeared afterward coming too, but by this point, they’d all seen it enough times, over and again from Simon, to know enough to expect it. And there it was, just about on cue - only a marginal step down from that smile, but more than enough if you were this used to knowing what to look for.

“She had other things to do, though,” Simon added conversationally, for every bit like he was still buying that excuse, just like he’d bought it who knew how many times from Wanda.

It wasn’t even Wanda anymore though. Not even the excuse of shared history to make him act like this. A smiling, shining, pretty face who sounded like she might just have wandered into and right back out of everything that she fancied in their world even before it had gone to hell, never sticking around long enough for the showroom polish to get dull.

Or maybe that was unfair - Greer had just enough thought left to give one corner of her brain pause, while the rest of it turned a flatter, sharper gaze on her friend and team leader - and maybe none of that was true at all about ‘the Dazzler’, but this was Simon, and where it came to Simon, you wanted a whole lot more than a vague afterschool special feeling about giving people the benefit of the doubt.

He’d spend enough time doing it for them, anyway, of that there was absolutely no question.

Though now, at least, as she glanced briefly aside to meet Bobbi’s eyes for a moment that said absolutely everything it needed to, Tigra noticed that for once Simon had caught onto the general refrigeration hanging in the air. “…and I figured you’d want this to be just us, for now?” Simon suggested which might have even been true…

…okay, fine, it was true, and she didn’t doubt that Simon knew just that, and would have been more than tactful enough to have done it, if it was needed. But if he really wanted her to buy that, it would have needed to not be phrased like a question he was aiming in the hopes of placating her, and not come after admitting the woman had wandered off somewhere else this morning.

Greer looked at him again, with an expression that ought to have been able to communicate all of that, though it didn’t last for nearly as long as she would have liked to drive the message home. Not after she caught a glimpse of the way William was laughing as he wriggled and dove after the hand Bobbi had been using to tickle him. Watching that, Greer felt her expression soften all over again, like it hadn’t ever stopped doing when she least expected it, every time she looked at her son.

That look on his face was worth everything, even if this time it did come at the expense of a few (hopefully minor) tooth marks on Mock’s arm.

“Probably not a bad idea," Mockingbird agreed, and not in a tone that sounded too much like ‘someone, please stop the puncture wounds!’, so for now, Greer stayed where she was, watching her son a moment longer, instead of the patient and polite, but not infinitely patient or endlessly polite look she knew Simon would be wearing. “She seems nice enough," the blonde added, "but you don't know her that well yet.”

Tearing her eyes away from her son, Greer glanced back Wondy’s way quickly enough to see him turn a mildly affronted look back on Bobbi. Before he’d actually said whatever it was was making his lips twitched, he closed his mouth again, presumably (Greer guessed) because he’d realized how ridiculous ‘Yes I do!’ was going to sound if he did say it.

Hopefully not because he was already spotting the shaky foundations of the argument Bobbi was trying to build here, but Greer wasn’t sure she liked the odds of that, even as she sent a commiserating look back to the awkwardly-wavering-on-helpless one she was getting from her friend.

“Maybe taking things slow might not be a bad idea right now," Bobbi added, with obvious concern that might have been enough to have Simon Tender-Heart let that go, had she not undercut herself by the expression that followed. The one that said she’d heard what she’d just said, and could see all the irony that had tagged along for the ride.

Clint to the rescue, both with a suction cup that he handed off to a curious William, and a little company for the foot Bobbi had just kind of stuck in her mouth there. ”Mock’s got a point," he said carefully, giving her a quick look in case she wanted him to shut the hell up after all. "I mean, there's no need to rush into things, right?”

Oh god. Simon was smiling in a genuine way again, Greer noted, without being immediately sure whether this was something she should be relieved about or not. Smiling… ought to have been good, but while it was a perfectly friendly smile all over again, she thought she knew Wondy well enough by now to guess that there was no way in hell he was going to back down about something he’d got it into his head that he wanted with only a few well-meaning words of caution. “Oh of course,” he smiled, and dammit, that was dry, wasn’t it? He was doing dry but cheerful, and that could only mean danger. “I mean, just think about the kind of relationships that get started when people go ahead and rush into things.”

“Relationship?” Greer asked without looking at him, watching William unsuccessfully try to copy Clint’s demonstration with the suction cup (he’d picked the back of his own hand, which was too furry to get a good seal). “We are talking about the same person, right?” she added, glancing back at Simon and deciding - despite the warning flash she saw in his eyes - to keep pressing on, and damn whether he wanted to be chivalrously offended on behalf of Dazzler or not. “The one who was making it her mission to pass Wisdom’s tally in the Resistance by summer?”

In a group that was still as small as the Resistance was, however much larger it had started to seem recently, it wasn’t hard to hear about things when they happened. Hell, sometimes it was hard not to hear about them, even if you were trying.

“Did I somehow miss the memo about it being take-your-hypocrisy-for-a-spin day?” Simon replied, and while that was still mostly sounding casual and amused, there was the very slightest suggestion of an edge lurking behind it now, that Greer met with a narrowing of her own eyes back at the glowing red ones. “Bobbi and Clint don’t think people should rush into things, now you’re tutting about this? Is there something wrong with someone being uninhibited, Greer?”

He let that dangle, like the leading, ‘yes we all remember the start of the WCA’ question is so obviously was, but if he thought having that hinted at to her face was going to shut her up, Greer resolved, he had another thing coming. “Yes, there usually is,” she told him matter-of-factly, “because people end up getting hurt.”

Hadn’t she proved that well enough back then? Hell, hadn’t Simon been the one to back off from her for exactly that reason?

Before he’d found anything more to say to that though, Jen interrupted with a loud, overly theatrical sigh. “Okay, one day I will figure out why all of you guys need to make a drama out of everything,” she told them all, rolling her eyes in a way that Greer could have sworn took each of them in, starting with her and Simon. “Seriously.”

And the very next second, their very own Big Green was ably assisted in her attempts to kill the moment by William, who - with a thoughtful look Greer knew far too well was not to be trusted, but didn’t have nearly enough time to get her wits together enough to warn anyone about- stretched up with one hand, plopping the suction arrow right in the middle of Bobbi’s forehead.

[Bobbi NPC-mauled with permission, I believe, but holler if not, Susan!]
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Mockingbird
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Greer wasn't buying it. Clint wasn't buying it. Jen...who the hell could tell, between finishing off the cereal and mugging at William pretty damned obliviously? Except, if you knew Jen, you knew she was never oblivious.

Bobbi wasn't buying the excuses and the statements that were more like questions and all the things that were already practically screaming 'Danger, Danger, Broken Wonder Man Ahead'. But-

God help her. She was actually standing here telling another person to take things slow in a possible relationship with someone they'd more or less just met. With her husband, who she'd married after knowing him nine days, standing not not two feet away if that.

No surprise she was getting that half-indignant, protesting look from Simon. She'd expected more than a look to follow it, but whatever their fearless leader had been about to say he seemed to swallow instead. That look from Greer at least said she was out here with her, more or less, on the thin ice Mockingbird felt like she was skating all over.

Irony, hypocrisy, Bobbi knew she had all those plates spinning at once and she wasn't even thinking of looking over at Jen again. She-Hulk was probably standing there still stuffing her face with Cheerios and grinning that damned grin she always got at times like these. The one that said they were an amusing spectator sport. Damned lawyers.

A little help here. Yeah, she could use that, so Mockingbird looked from Greer to Clint. Who was fishing around for something or other, but he wasn't gonna get out of it that easy. Even if it was to pull out and demonstrate a new toy that was a little less messy than the putty arrowhead. Suction cup this time and Bobbi managed to sneak the rest of the putty arrow out of the kid's grasp as he reached for the shiny new suction cup arrowhead Hawk had handed over.

"Mock's got a point," [Clint] said carefully, giving her a quick look like he was trying to gauge whether or not he should keep going. Bobbi just sent a slightly wry, more than slightly crooked hint of a smile back his way. Now if she could just get him to admit that more often. "I mean, there's no need to rush into things, right?"

And the hypocritical irony just kept right on coming, but what they hell else could they do?

Simon was smiling again, and that probably should've made her feel better. Only it didn't. She'd known him for way too long to think he'd suddenly decided to agree with them. Or not point out the obvious. “Oh of course,” he smiled, and replied way too damned dryly, and amiably, for comfort. “I mean, just think about the kind of relationships that get started when people go ahead and rush into things.”

Bobbi just looked at him, let out a breath, and tried not to snap back. Ask him if he'd conveniently forgot just how damned hard it'd been for her and Clint to keep it all together? How close they'd come to not doing that? The papers had been all but signed. And that was without either of them being the type to just wander the hell off when they got bored or something shiny grabbed their attention.

So that meant Greer beat her to the punch.

“Relationship?” Tigra asked him, keeping her attention on William and his attempt to make suction cup stick to fur. “We are talking about the same person, right?” she added, glancing back at Simon and that'd wiped the smile out of Wonder Man's eyes. Bobbi felt a twinge of guilt about that. About starting this and raining on what was probably the happiest she'd seen Simon in a while. “The one who was making it her mission to pass Wisdom’s tally in the Resistance by summer?”

Ouch. But it was true. News traveled around here, gossip traveled even faster. No smile or anything close on her own face now, Bobbi glanced over to Clint again. Then back to Simon and hoped to hell he'd understand that they were worried about him. If not now, then later, when he was done being pissed at them.

“Did I somehow miss the memo about it being take-your-hypocrisy-for-a-spin day?” Simon replied, and while that was still mostly sounding casual and amused, there was the very slightest suggestion of an edge lurking behind it now, that Greer met with a narrowing of her own eyes back at the glowing red ones. “Bobbi and Clint don’t think people should rush into things, now you’re tutting about this? Is there something wrong with someone being uninhibited, Greer?”

Bobbi's face fought a battle with itself between narrowed eyes and raised eyebrows. Hadn't he been the one that decided to stay out of that back then? Because he didn't want the mess he'd known it would end up causing? He'd been right, but put him around Wanda, and now apparently Dazzler, and it was like all the good sense he seemed to have the rest of the time went straight out the window.

“Yes, there usually is,” [Greer] told him matter-of-factly, “because people end up getting hurt.”

"We don't want that to be you." Again. Bobbi at least managed to keep from throwing that part in, though. Partly because Jen was already sighing over there in a way nobody could exactly ignore.

“Okay, one day I will figure out why all of you guys need to make a drama out of everything,” she told them all, rolling her eyes in a way that seemed to somehow include everybody in the room. Except maybe Jen herself and William. “Seriously.”

"Said the-" Mockingbird got partly out, not quite getting to the word lawyer - let's face it, there was no more damned drama-filled profession on the face of the earth - before there was suddenly a suction cup on her head. Courtesy of a grinning little cat boy.

Lips twitching and blue eyes crossing slightly as she tried to peer up at her own forehead, Bobbi shot a droll look at the kid, twitching turning into a bemused grin, bouncing him a little on her hip. "Thanks, Will. That's pretty great aim you've got there." At least it wasn't the putty smashed into her face. There was that.

"Welcome," he told her, looking way too damned pleased with himself. Then reached up again to try to pull the suction arrow off. Which wasn't as easy as you'd probably think.

"Little help here, Babe?" Bobbi requested of the provider of the arrow in question that was now stuck to her face with an adorable little kitten baby trying to pull it off again. Then she shot that same, bemused grin over to Greer and Simon. Then to Jen. "I'm giving him the putty back, then giving him to you," she threatened.

Jen wouldn't care, but a girl had to do what she could to preserve whatever little dignity she had left.
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Hawkeye
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Yeah, that look on Mock's face said it all. She knew exactly what she sounded like, advising Simon to take it slow. The least Clint could do was see to it she didn't have to hang alone.

Besides, she really was making a good point in spite of its inherent irony. Clint half expected her to give him a look telling him to cram it before he made things worse, but instead she just sort of smiled at him. Crookedly, but it was still a smile.

Simon was smiling too. That ought to have been a good thing, but there was something about it that raised the hackles on the back of Clint's head. “Oh of course,” he said, and yeah, that dry delivery was all kinds of trouble. “I mean, just think about the kind of relationships that get started when people go ahead and rush into things.”

Yeah, Clint had kind of seen that one coming. Enough that he couldn't really get annoyed at having that thrown in their faces. Not that it wouldn't be easy to give it the kind of answer it deserved. Or that it wasn’t temping, considering how much work he and Bobbi had put in to saving their relationship after letting it come to the literal brink of collapse. Simon wasn't them, though. And they might not know Dazzler very well yet, but he was pretty sure it was safe to say she wasn't them either.

Bobbi seemed to be having a harder time holding back, gusting a breath to steady herself. Or to clear the way before she unloaded on him after all.

The suction cup arrowhead looked like it was a winner so far for William , who was busy trying to repeat what Clint had shown him on his own hand, rather than paying attention to what the grown-ups were talking about. Greer was watching her son play, but she chose that moment to chime in on the conversation. “Relationship?” she said, “We are talking about the same person, right?” She looked back to Simon, whose red eyes flashed for a second in warning, not that it would stop her. “The one who was making it her mission to pass Wisdom’s tally in the Resistance by summer?”

It was hard not to wince at that one, but Clint managed. Barely. Greer was right, though. The gossip had spread pretty quickly, and they really didn’t need Simon falling for someone who only saw him as her latest conquest. Clint shared a look with Bobbi before they both turned their eyes back on Simon. He really wasn’t happy right now, but they really were only doing this because they were worried.

“Did I somehow miss the memo about it being take-your-hypocrisy-for-a-spin day?” Simon replied, and while that was still mostly sounding casual and amused, there was the very slightest suggestion of an edge lurking behind it now, that Greer met with a narrowing of her own eyes back at the glowing red ones. “Bobbi and Clint don’t think people should rush into things, now you’re tutting about this? Is there something wrong with someone being uninhibited, Greer?”

Clint tensed, remembering all that pretty well himself. Including Simon’s own role in that. He hadn’t forgotten that part, had he? Probably not, but he was hurt and lashing out without really thinking everything through. It wasn’t the first time that had happened either and wasn’t doing much to convince them Dazzler had the potential to be a Wanda in the making.

“Yes, there usually is,” Greer said, completely straightforward. “because people end up getting hurt.”

"We don't want that to be you." Bobbi said, and Clint could practically hear the word lingering at the end, unspoken. They just wanted him to be happy. And to stay happy, instead of the broken fallout they’d seen over and over again.

“What she said,” he replied, even as Jen uttered a dramatic, She-Hulk sized sigh.

“Okay, one day I will figure out why all of you guys need to make a drama out of everything,” the green giantess said, somehow rolling her eyes at all of them. “Seriously.”

Clint’s couldn’t help the sudden, incredulous lift of his eyebrows at that. Was she seriously trying to say she was any less prone to drama? Hadn’t she just been talking about smashing everything in sight if she didn’t get cereal?

"Said the-" Bobbi started to say, but then William managed to silence her with a grin and a suction cup, the latter stuck squarely in the middle of her forehead.

Okay, not laughing. Not laughing. Clint’s lips contorted heroically, but a little snort escaped all the same. Man, good thing that wasn’t the putty. Bobbi’s own lips twitched as she crossed her eyes and tried to look up. She looked back down at William and gave him a smile. "Thanks, Will. That's pretty great aim you've got there."

"Welcome," William said with an adorably pleased expression. He reached for the suction cup and tried to remove it, but only managed to tug her forehead slightly.

"Little help here, Babe?" Bobbi said.

“You got it, Birdie,” Clint said. He moved in a little closer and took hold of the suction cup, hooking the edge of his thumb under the edge of the arrowhead. “Like this, see?” he asked William, making sure he was paying attention. He slowly peeled the suction cup off, then, on an impulse, stuck it to his own forehead and tilted toward the cat-baby. “Now you try.”

He glanced back up toward Bobbi out of the corner of his eye and smiled. God, he loved this. He could do it all the time, and if he and Bobbi were lucky, that’s just what they’d do.

Bobbi’s eyes turned back to Jen, then. "I'm giving him the putty back, then giving him to you," she threatened. Like that was going to work.

“Sounds good to me,” Jen said after swallowing another mouthful of Cheerios. Just as he’d expected. If she had even paid attention to the first part, she didn’t care. “Hand him over.”
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