Wade knew he had a lot of faults, but despite all of them, he knew he was a pretty good father. At least, he hoped so. He kept Ellie happy, and that was all that mattered. If that also meant being a pushover that absolutely could not say no to anything she asked for, then so be it.
It just so happened, that after watching the news about the Avengers, Ellie wanted to visit it. To see the place where all of her favorite superheroes had lived. And he knew how to get in there, so it wasn’t impossible, and he was going to do it for Ellie. Since she had asked him and deployed the puppy dog eyes of death.
And that’s how he found himself getting into the Avengers Tower, managing to get past security, Ellie riding on his back. “Daddy! Is this where Hawkeye stays?” She asked, eyes wide with wonder as she looked around the place, her voice bouncing off the walls.
“Shhh.” Wade whispered, pulling her from h is back so he could have her on his hip. It’d be easier to sit her down if trouble came. “Remember we have to play the quiet game when we’re in here. We don’t wanna wake up the superheroes.” He said gently. “But yes. I’m sure Hawkeye has been in here many times.”
“Oh that’s so cool!” She shouted, but immediately her voice dropped again in a quiet whisper. “Oh that’s so cool!” She whispered, repeating the words again. “Daddy! Someone’s coming!” She said, excitement mixing with nerves.
Tommy had been out all day when he got Cassie’s message to meet for lunch. It was a pretty long week, in between all the crap that was going on in the media about superhumans. Technically, his superhero identity wasn’t public, but he was also pretty bad at hiding it. He got looks from the people in his building sometimes. Lately, those looks had been particularly unfriendly ones.
So, he didn’t actually spend a lot of time at home, although the place was noisy and the corridors smelled of cigarettes, so that wasn’t a huge loss. In any case, it made the invitation a pleasant surprise. Of their teammates, Cassie was actually the one he found it easiest to talk to, which was weird, because he didn’t think they had all that much in common. Cassie was just straight up nice, and frankly, Tommy was not a good enough person to say no to anything when food was involved.
There was this 24 hour breakfast diner not far from Kate and Cassie’s place that the team liked to frequent after a fight or just a particularly intense game of MarioKart. It was a nice place; cheap and, frankly, the staff didn’t ask too many questions when a bunch of frazzled-looking youths walked in, as often as not sporting some…questionable wardrobe choices in the form of their costumes or parts thereof. Plus the food was pretty good too. Tommy headed over there a few minutes after Cassie texted him, taking out his phone as he did so to send her a message. hey when you say ‘meet for lunch’ you do mean right now yeah?
[sent at 10:25AM] really though thanks a lot. I’ve got another interview lined up for tomorrow I can let you know how it goes. Pls don’t tell the others about it though ok? and you know. Thank you Cassie
Send ✉ for an 2 AM text
[sent at 2:01AM] Cass I swear to god i will be there in 1 minute where are u?? just shrink down and wait somewhere please whoever it is I will make them pay
While Remy is visiting the bars in Midtown, he is surrounded by a group of the Friends of Humanity who have recognized him as a mutant. Cassie who is waiting on the arrival of friends at the very same bar is witness to this would be attack and must choose how she will react.
It felt as if weeks had gone by without Remy treating himself to a few drinks. He’d been a bit too busy treating himself to the finest possessions the rich citizens of the city had to offer him. Business was good so that was a plus, and helping the X-Men wasn’t so difficult recently. Just a few mishaps here and there, namely with the Friends of Humanity.
God, Remy hated them.
Self-righteous bastards who thought they were better than everyone and took things so far as to attack random mutants. Even thinking of them left a bitter taste in his mouth. He downed another glass of bourbon to get rid of that bitterness. It helped. Remy was grateful that it was dark outside and that the lighting in the bar was relatively dim. He wasn’t ashamed of his eyes, not anymore, but he didn’t need to draw any unnecessary attention to himself right now. He just wanted to enjoy his drink.
Apparently a few of the bar’s patrons had other ideas. He could hear a few voices whispering, angry murmurs coming from a group by the pool tables. He turned to glance at them and swore softly at what he saw. There were various men clad in FOH paraphernalia glaring at him. The tension and anger in the bar quickly rose and Remy took it all in thanks to his empathy. The bartender moved away as the group came over, circling Remy at the bar and nearly snarling in disgust. “Think you can just walk in here and drink whatever you please, mutie?”
Remy scoffed. “Oui. Dis a free country, no? I can drink wherever I want.” One of the larger men grabbed Remy by his jacket, spun him out of his stool, and slammed him against the bar. He grunted at the sharp pain in his back where he hit the bar. “I don’t think you heard right. Freaks like you don’t belong around normal people,” he snarled. Some of the man’s friends were getting ready to throw punches and break the cajun thief.
It had already been a while since Loki arrived to Midgard. Since then he had kept quite a low profile, first because his original plan was to just meet the enhanced twins and then leave, though after that he had decided to stay just a little while longer. Of course there had been some moments when that low profile hadn’t been so low but it is not easy to change the nature of the God of Mischief.
Even after spending some time in the realm of mortals, this was the first time Loki actually came to think about the building that he was now looking at. Of course it had not been on top of his list of places to visit since he had not planned to stay on Midgard but since he had been interested in studying and reading it was odd that he had not come to think of this place.
A library. Hardly comparable with the ones they had on Asgard and other realms. But that was obvious and very few things here could be compared with the ones of realm eternal. First of all, it was small and not magnificent in any way. Windows let the sun shine in and made the bookshelves inside easy to see even when the sorcerer was standing outside. It was a simple building.
And Loki wanted to see if its books were as simple too. So with a couple of steps he walked up the stairs and opened one of the large glass doors, stepping inside the building. Green eyes scanned the place up and down for a second before he casually turned to right and headed towards the first shelves, wondering what kind of creations these people dared to call books.
Under a cut because it's long, not because it's dirty.
December 15th:
The mildest winter in 40 years and Clint isn't in New York to enjoy it. Instead he's somewhere off to the north east of Sisimiut, freezing his goddamn balls off because apparently some war lords think visiting a frozen hellscape is a reasonable thing to do ten days before Christmas.
He does the job, which this time is to make a shot that would be impossible for anyone else, making it look like the truck on the way to the ice sheet just got a flat, delaying them long enough for a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent back in town to plant bugs in his hotel room.
S.H.I.E.L.D. has given up on trying to send him on kill missions, and Clint is grateful, especially today. He's seen more than enough blood on snow in his life.
He was on a plane before the mark had managed to change the tire and head back, but he still found time to swing by a little shop and pick up a present for Wanda. He knew the twins don't celebrate Christmas, but Wanda had shared some of her Chanukah traditions with him earlier in the month, he wanted to get her a gift.
He looks up "Merry Christmas," in his English to Greenlandic pocket dictionary and practices saying it to everyone he talks to in the airport. They seem less than impressed by his accent.
December 16th:
The seatbelt sign hadn't gone off from landing in New York before he got the call that there was a situation going on in Trenton that he was needed for.
For a minute Clint considered reminding people that he was thirty-five, jet lagged and running on four hours of sleep, but he felt like that would be whiny.
Still, when the situation turns out to be some junior mad scientist at Thomas Edison State, he can't help feeling a little miffed, especially because that's a day of Christmas shopping wasted and he has all of four people checked off his list.
"Happy fucking holidays, Jersey." He grumbles on his way back to New York.
December 17th:
He sleeps the night of the 16th in his own bed and wakes with enough time to order Pietro, Kate, Sam and Steve's gifts. He might have used Tony's prime account to make sure they got there on time, but no one needs to know about that. Cassie's gift comes from another site. He means to go out and do some actual shopping but his bed is comfy, contains an attractive Cajun and Clint hasn't slept in a while, so you can guess how that goes. He figures he deserves a long winter's nap, at least until he's woken at 7 AM by the universe telling him that he clearly doesn't. "Ho ho no." He stays as he hangs up the phone, rolling out of bed despite his protests.
December 18th:
By the time the quinjet touches down in Guadalajara, Clint is feeling decidedly Feliz Navi-don't about this whole Christmas thing. He'd been looking forward to spending time with his friends and maybe just having some time to relax, but apparently there is a world to save. Or something.
He's crouched down beside a market stand when he sees Kurt's present. The owner is cowering nearby and the transaction seems to settle her some. He shoves the present into one of his pockets and flashes her a smile and a cheery, "Feliz navidad." Before breaking from cover and drawing the cloud's attention.
What else is an archer going to do against an opponent made of mist?
Anyway, the team managed to stop the giant sentient cloud that was taking over the city with something Tony insisted was not a giant vacuum (which meant it totally was) and Clint caught a few hours of sleep on the flight to his next destination.
December 19th:
He spends the 19th tracking a Hydra defector through Jakarta.
Of course intelligence refused to acknowledge that people don't defect from Hydra, but at least Clint knew he was walking into a trap.
Not that it did him a damn bit of good.
He spends a couple hours in a small dank cell before burning the place to the ground and escaping (he probably should have rethought the order there).
He makes his slightly singed way back to the evac point, cutting through the garment district, he buys a couple silk scarves for Bobbi.
He has no idea how to say "merry Christmas" in Malay, so he wishes the customs officer something like "a joyous December experience."
Close enough.
December 20th:
Clint would have been perfectly content, more than that actually, to have spent some time in that area of the world without visiting Madripoor, but apparently that particular Christmas miracle had gotten lost in the mail. Madripoor, the city that never sleeps, but instead gets blackout drunk and starts gang wars. Someday their board of tourism would pick up that slogan.
Madripoor is like a car chase, but with motorcycles, like a train wreck, but with a couple busses and a semi, like a natural disaster but if that disaster was named Clint Barton.
When he leaves, Madirpoor is burning.
He sings as he pilots the boat away from the pillar of smoke rising from the ocean. "Chestnuts roasting..."
December 21st:
He makes it to Miami late in the evening of the 22nd. As he boards a plane to New York he waves blearily at the attendant. "Merry whatever won't offend you."
December 22nd:
Clint gets home in the wee hours of the morning, stumbles into his room, manages to shuck his clothes off and fall into bed. He tucks himself up against Remy's back.
He wakes up at some point, wanders aimlessly until he realizes he's hungry, thirsty and has to pee. Those needs met, he crawls back into bed.
When he wakes six hours later he stays up long enough to shower, eat, put some laundry in and try catch up on dog cops. He falls asleep during the first commercial break and doesn't budge until morning when Lucky launches himself onto the couch and coincidentally, Clint's groin. "Sonofanutcracker." He hisses as he shoves Lucky off.
December 23rd:
The morning of the 23rd he wakes to pounding on his door and Remy jabbing him in the side to make him get up and make it stop.
No one in the building has hot water and when he tries to go in the basement to see what's going on he finds it flooded. "Fa la la la fuck." He sings before spending the rest of the day on the phone with half the plumbers in Brooklyn, trying to fix it himself, then calling every other plumber in Brooklyn. Finally he gets someone out there and it get fixed. It's seven PM and he manages to get a couple hours of shooting in before bed.
December 24th:
He meets Natasha with coffee at the ass crack of dawn when the stores open up. Every year he swears he's not going to be that guy and every year he still finds himself with people to shop for on Christmas Eve. The shop of shame.
Next year, Barton. Next year will be the year you get your shit together.
Probably not, but he can dream.
They bounce around the city and manage to finish up with enough time to swing by his apartment before heading to the tower for dinner with the rest of the team.
It's a good night, with lots of laughing and singing and a couple kisses spurred on by Tony's particularly intense eggnog.
The 25th:
After all the fuss leading up to it, Christmas Day is calm and quiet. He spends the morning with Kate and Cassie, bringing presents and making them a mountain of French toast that they devour between the three of them. They play Christmas music that up to this point has been cloying and saccharine but now sounds festive and brings back memories of the good Christmases he had while at SHIELD.
They swap gifts and stories and laugh over coffee. Clint slips Antony sugar cubes under the table while Cassie turns a blind eye.
It's a good morning. Warm, peaceful and blurry with affection. It passes slowly, but eventually afternoon comes and they have to go, the evening full of other obligations. Clint hugs both of the girls (women), picking them up and squeezing them tight before wishing them one last merry Christmas and heading out into the slow rain that was beginning to fall.
He comes home to his apartment, the tree up and lit, only half the ornaments on it because he'd gotten the call to assemble in the middle of decorating and hadn't had a chance to finish since then.
He has a couple hours until Remy gets there, so he wraps his gifts, showers and starts on dinner. Remy arrives and cooking goes noticeably slower from there out, as Clint has to shuffle around with his lover's arms around his waist.
After dinner Clint makes hot chocolate with cinnamon, nutmeg and cayenne. It takes some cajoling (and the promise of shared blankets) to get Remy up to the roof, but the sky is clear in the way it only gets on cold nights and even with the city's lights going full force they can make out a couple stars, which in New York, practically counts as a Christmas miracle.
