[MCU: Drabble] "Reading Time" [Clint/Coulson, G]
Title: Reading Time
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 23, challenge 01, prompt 18 lost in a good book
Word Count: 715
Fandom: Avengers
Pairing(s): Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Character(s): Clint Barton, Phil Coulson, Kate Bishop
Setting: part of my MCU Happy Verse (post-Avengers movie fluffy AU)
Summary: The light was still on in Frankie’s room when Clint and Phil got back from dinner.
Reading Time
The light was still on in Frankie’s room when Clint and Phil got back from dinner.
They shared a look, trying and failing not to be concerned - Avengers Tower was the most secure place they’d ever lived, but a small part of any good SHIELD agent was just a little bit paranoid, no matter what.
Clint tilted his head in a silent question. Phil nodded and the archer crept forward, approaching their daughter’s open doorway. His shoulders relaxed instantly and he motioned for Phil to join him.
Three-year-old Frankie was sitting up against the headboard of her bed, in her frilly nightgown (she was such a rough-and-tumble kid during the day that it was still funny how she wanted to sleep in lace and ruffles). Kate was stretched out beside her, wearing ratty blue jeans and a rattier hoodie, an open book balanced on her upraised knee.
“I shouldn’t be at all surprised if she did turn out to be something. Suppose she should!” Kate read, clearly arriving at the end of a chapter.
“But what happens?” Frankie demanded, the moment she stopped.
“Yeah,” added Clint, now slouching in the doorway. “What happens, Katie-Kate?”
“Don’t call me that,” the other archer grumbled, just as Frankie cried, “Hi, Daddy!”
The girl tried to scramble out of bed, but Kate held her down with a gentle hand. “Oh, no, you don’t, kiddo. Bedtime is bedtime.”
“Speaking of which…” said Phil.
“Yeah, you guys came home early,” said Kate. “Trouble in paradise?”
Clint smirked. “Actually, we’re fifteen minutes late. Somebody got handsy in the cab.”
“That someone was you, Barton,” said Phil, but Kate ignored him.
“Wait, what? Late? But it can’t be… Where’s the clock in this crazy place?”
“Over there, Aunt Katie-Kate,” said Frankie, pointing to the owl-shaped time-teaching clock on top of her bookcase.
(Frankie, of course, was allowed to call Kate that. ‘Aunt’ was a bit of a stretch, but Kate had once confessed to Phil in a fit of flu-related honesty that while she’d have loved to have a father like either of them, she really felt more like Clint’s ‘much cooler, much younger sister’.)
“Analogue?” said Kate, now. “Doesn’t that give Stark, like, hives or something?”
“It’s a valuable skill for a child to learn,” said Phil. “And one that this child should know well enough to tell it was past her bedtime.”
“But we were reading, Papa,” Frankie told him.
Phil arched an eyebrow at his husband, who ducked his head, hiding a guilty smile. Phil enjoyed reading - historical non-fiction when he had time to get deeply into a book and bodice-ripping romances when he didn’t - but Clint was a truly voracious reader, devouring anything and everything in print, especially now that he had hours to spend at home with a willing accomplice.
“What are you reading?” Clint asked.
“A Little Princess,” said Frankie. “The person who wrote it has the same name as me, look!”
She took the book from Kate and held it up, and Phil dutifully read, “By Frances Hodgson Burnett. Yes, she does share your name. And we can keep reading more of her story tomorrow.”
“But we’re almost done!” protested Frankie.
“You have at least half the book left,” Clint corrected, gently. “And there will be plenty of time for us to read it tomorrow.”
“Will you read it to me, Daddy?” she asked, eagerly.
“Hey, what about me?” complained Kate.
Frankie patted her knee. “You tried real hard, Aunt Katie-Kate.”
“Gee, thanks,” she drawled.
“C’mon, Katie,” said Clint, mostly managing to control his laughter. “I’ll walk you home.”
“Excuse you,” she said. “I am an Avenger. I’m Hawkeye, the World’s Greatest Marksman, and I-”
“Will let Clint walk you home,” Phil said, smoothly.
“Fine,” she said, making a face at him. “Goodnight, Frankie.”
“Night, Aunt Katie-Kate!”
As the two Hawkeyes left, bickering, Phil straightened his daughter’s blankets. “Am I in trouble for staying up late?” she asked.
She was so much like Clint that it made his heart ache, sometimes.
“No,” Phil told her. “But next time, you let Aunt Kate know what time it is, okay?”
“Even if it’s a really good book?”
“Yes, even then.”
“Okay,” Frankie agreed. “Love you, Papa.”
“Love you, too, Pumpkin,” he said, and turned out the light.
THE END
Current Mood:
busy
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 23, challenge 01, prompt 18 lost in a good book
Word Count: 715
Fandom: Avengers
Pairing(s): Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Character(s): Clint Barton, Phil Coulson, Kate Bishop
Setting: part of my MCU Happy Verse (post-Avengers movie fluffy AU)
Summary: The light was still on in Frankie’s room when Clint and Phil got back from dinner.
Reading Time
The light was still on in Frankie’s room when Clint and Phil got back from dinner.
They shared a look, trying and failing not to be concerned - Avengers Tower was the most secure place they’d ever lived, but a small part of any good SHIELD agent was just a little bit paranoid, no matter what.
Clint tilted his head in a silent question. Phil nodded and the archer crept forward, approaching their daughter’s open doorway. His shoulders relaxed instantly and he motioned for Phil to join him.
Three-year-old Frankie was sitting up against the headboard of her bed, in her frilly nightgown (she was such a rough-and-tumble kid during the day that it was still funny how she wanted to sleep in lace and ruffles). Kate was stretched out beside her, wearing ratty blue jeans and a rattier hoodie, an open book balanced on her upraised knee.
“I shouldn’t be at all surprised if she did turn out to be something. Suppose she should!” Kate read, clearly arriving at the end of a chapter.
“But what happens?” Frankie demanded, the moment she stopped.
“Yeah,” added Clint, now slouching in the doorway. “What happens, Katie-Kate?”
“Don’t call me that,” the other archer grumbled, just as Frankie cried, “Hi, Daddy!”
The girl tried to scramble out of bed, but Kate held her down with a gentle hand. “Oh, no, you don’t, kiddo. Bedtime is bedtime.”
“Speaking of which…” said Phil.
“Yeah, you guys came home early,” said Kate. “Trouble in paradise?”
Clint smirked. “Actually, we’re fifteen minutes late. Somebody got handsy in the cab.”
“That someone was you, Barton,” said Phil, but Kate ignored him.
“Wait, what? Late? But it can’t be… Where’s the clock in this crazy place?”
“Over there, Aunt Katie-Kate,” said Frankie, pointing to the owl-shaped time-teaching clock on top of her bookcase.
(Frankie, of course, was allowed to call Kate that. ‘Aunt’ was a bit of a stretch, but Kate had once confessed to Phil in a fit of flu-related honesty that while she’d have loved to have a father like either of them, she really felt more like Clint’s ‘much cooler, much younger sister’.)
“Analogue?” said Kate, now. “Doesn’t that give Stark, like, hives or something?”
“It’s a valuable skill for a child to learn,” said Phil. “And one that this child should know well enough to tell it was past her bedtime.”
“But we were reading, Papa,” Frankie told him.
Phil arched an eyebrow at his husband, who ducked his head, hiding a guilty smile. Phil enjoyed reading - historical non-fiction when he had time to get deeply into a book and bodice-ripping romances when he didn’t - but Clint was a truly voracious reader, devouring anything and everything in print, especially now that he had hours to spend at home with a willing accomplice.
“What are you reading?” Clint asked.
“A Little Princess,” said Frankie. “The person who wrote it has the same name as me, look!”
She took the book from Kate and held it up, and Phil dutifully read, “By Frances Hodgson Burnett. Yes, she does share your name. And we can keep reading more of her story tomorrow.”
“But we’re almost done!” protested Frankie.
“You have at least half the book left,” Clint corrected, gently. “And there will be plenty of time for us to read it tomorrow.”
“Will you read it to me, Daddy?” she asked, eagerly.
“Hey, what about me?” complained Kate.
Frankie patted her knee. “You tried real hard, Aunt Katie-Kate.”
“Gee, thanks,” she drawled.
“C’mon, Katie,” said Clint, mostly managing to control his laughter. “I’ll walk you home.”
“Excuse you,” she said. “I am an Avenger. I’m Hawkeye, the World’s Greatest Marksman, and I-”
“Will let Clint walk you home,” Phil said, smoothly.
“Fine,” she said, making a face at him. “Goodnight, Frankie.”
“Night, Aunt Katie-Kate!”
As the two Hawkeyes left, bickering, Phil straightened his daughter’s blankets. “Am I in trouble for staying up late?” she asked.
She was so much like Clint that it made his heart ache, sometimes.
“No,” Phil told her. “But next time, you let Aunt Kate know what time it is, okay?”
“Even if it’s a really good book?”
“Yes, even then.”
“Okay,” Frankie agreed. “Love you, Papa.”
“Love you, too, Pumpkin,” he said, and turned out the light.
THE END
Current Mood:
busy