Clint knew he should leave Barney alone, let him sleep while he was still willing to, but he couldn't seem to help touching him. Running his fingers up and down the boy's back, playing lightly with the soft tufts of hair, toying with his tiny fingers. It wasn't enough to wake him but he did feel a little guilty. A little.
He waved a bit when Mitchell came in, "Which one?" he teased lightly, though he nodded his head toward Mary and the little girl anyway, letting his wife introduce the little ones.