"Hm-hm. Make it bad, okay? Like, really painful. That keeps me from working out ever again."
Clint grimaced a little and pushed himself up with a sigh. By now the last of water from the shower before had dried, so he stopped by his dresser to trade that towel for a pair of light underwear. Attempting to put on more clothes sounded far too exhausting right now.
It was a relief to get comfortable on the bed, not only because he felt like he had just jumped from yet another building. The day had been challenging to say the least.
He stretched out on his back while Natasha was busy in the kitchen and stared out of the balcony windows to the still very bright afternoon sky, trying to comprehend what had happened in the last hours. A baby... It still sounded like a bad script from a daily superhero soap or something. Forget Stark, the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. would make this the joke of the century on the bulletin board. Not that he gave shit what people thought.
But admittedly, the whole thing didn't miss a certain hint of irony. And here he had been sure that Pepper and Tony would produce the first baby in their team. Or like, Jane and Thor. Wasn't the guy the God of fertility too or something?
It would be absolutely horrible and he would probably have to keep Natasha off Stark's throat on a regular base but... He couldn't get the picture of her holding a baby in her arms out of his head. That was so much stronger than silly team bickering and even the fear of fucking this up spectacularly. They weren't there yet, not by a far stretch, and he should be glad probably because hell, they both knew shit about how to bring up a child. But it could be. It could very possibly be...
His head felt too hot with stupid giddiness suddenly and he reached for a pillow to press it against his face with a chuckle. Cold ruthless rational master assassins. Right. More like a family business suddenly.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-06-22 02:37 pm (UTC)From:Clint grimaced a little and pushed himself up with a sigh. By now the last of water from the shower before had dried, so he stopped by his dresser to trade that towel for a pair of light underwear. Attempting to put on more clothes sounded far too exhausting right now.
It was a relief to get comfortable on the bed, not only because he felt like he had just jumped from yet another building. The day had been challenging to say the least.
He stretched out on his back while Natasha was busy in the kitchen and stared out of the balcony windows to the still very bright afternoon sky, trying to comprehend what had happened in the last hours. A baby... It still sounded like a bad script from a daily superhero soap or something. Forget Stark, the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. would make this the joke of the century on the bulletin board. Not that he gave shit what people thought.
But admittedly, the whole thing didn't miss a certain hint of irony. And here he had been sure that Pepper and Tony would produce the first baby in their team. Or like, Jane and Thor. Wasn't the guy the God of fertility too or something?
It would be absolutely horrible and he would probably have to keep Natasha off Stark's throat on a regular base but... He couldn't get the picture of her holding a baby in her arms out of his head. That was so much stronger than silly team bickering and even the fear of fucking this up spectacularly. They weren't there yet, not by a far stretch, and he should be glad probably because hell, they both knew shit about how to bring up a child. But it could be. It could very possibly be...
His head felt too hot with stupid giddiness suddenly and he reached for a pillow to press it against his face with a chuckle. Cold ruthless rational master assassins. Right. More like a family business suddenly.