"Stevie," Clint shot back, snorting. "Guess you attract weird nicknames, huh Ace?" He scooted over on the couch, so Steve had room to sit and shook his head a little. "She was a cow before we were high," Clint explained (unsatisfactorily). "It's Bucky's fault," he pointed accusingly, although the gesture was undermined somewhat by his snickering. "He doesn't know what mice are."
He looked fondly at the cat for a few seconds, then back at Steve. "Anyway come sit down and have some of this. It's great. Makes things... mellow and happy. Makes you laugh. C'mooon. I like it when you laugh. Plus you should hold Moo."