"Probably not," wandering down the street, letting Lucky lead the way like he was picking the destination, Clint shifted until he could sling his arm around Kate's shoulders. It was mostly simple to navigate the streets without bumping anyone while strolling anyway, so the likelihood of their two-abreast position being an issue was fairly low.
"Sweetums? Sugar-plum? Snookums?" God, that one hurt just to say. As far as Clint's pet names went, they were fairly simple and short-and-sweet. Babe just happened to be a generic go-to. "You can call me anything but those." Clint answered to a hell of a lot of things too. When he heard them.
"But yeah, whatever is fine. I had an old CO spend two years calling me Blixon and I didn't bother correcting him." Especially not when it was because he got into shit. Can't write him up with the wrong name.