Kate Bishop is practically an Avenger. (hawkeyetoo) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-12-10 13:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, clint barton (hawkeye), kate bishop (hawkeye) |
Who: Kate Bishop (Hawkeye) and Clint Barton (Hawkeye)
When: December 3
Where: Clint’s place
What: Coffee
Rating/Warnings: Low/None
Status: Complete
Kate was HUNGOVER. Somehow she managed to get herself to Clint’s apartment after her night of drinks with Emma. She let herself in, greeted Lucky as warmly as possible by someone who felt like she was going to keel over while throwing up, then stumbled into the kitchen to put the coffee on.
This was bad. She was looking at her expenses and her income, and had decided she couldn’t afford her lifestyle. It was time to start cutting back. Seriously cutting back. She’d have to learn how to… cook. Eating out at every meal was too expensive for a girl who only had the meager, hourly income of an Archery Teacher.
Clint had long since stopped being surprised when Kate just appeared in his kitchen, hovering over the coffee pot. He was pretty sure she was as dependent on it as he was. Lucky was always the first indicator that Kate was there, since the dumbass would sit and watch her rather than attempt to trip Clint up for attention.
“Do I need to get you a bell?” He didn’t mind in the least, wandering into his kitchen to wrap his arms around her waist and place a kiss at her jaw. “Or maybe some advil and water actually?” Because those were definitely ‘don’t talk to me I’m hungover’ eyes right there.
Kate grunted at the bell comment. Just the word made her head hurt--the idea of something ringing? Not enticing in the slightest. But advil and water? That was more up her alley at the moment. Her eyes fell closed at the arms around her, she leaned in a little at the kiss to her jaw. They were definitely ‘don’t talk to me I’m hungover’ eyes, but the physical comfort she would take. His arms felt really good.
“Advil and water and another six days to sleep it off.” Kate grumbled. Her throat felt like gravel, her mouth tasted like bad mushrooms. “God, what was I thinking?”
She probably wasn’t thinking beyond ‘I don’t wanna think about this’, which Clint could be a spokesperson for right about now anyway. “You get home okay?” He assumed since she wasn’t in her dancing/clubbing/whatever gear she’d been out with some friends at least, and presumably she’d been home.
Stretching past her to get a glass from the cupboard, Clint moved away just to go to the fridge for water and then the cabinet below the sink for medicine and then to rejoin Kate. Filling a glass and popping out two little pills for her, “Would it make you feel better to know you don’t look half as bad as I’m sure you feel?”
“Yeah. Emma took care of me.” Funny how a night of heavy drinking made Kate’s voice sound as if she was a life-long smoker. It was gravelly and a little raw, but it seemed fitting for the day. The coffee dripped down into the pot, and she stared at it while Clint pulled away. Her body leaned gently in his direction, missing the warmth of his arms around her instantly. Then she turned to look at him, wincing slightly at the light in the kitchen, and exhaled in a deep sigh as he offered her the water and drugs.
“I love you.” She breathed, reaching a hand out for the water and holding a palm up for the Advil. She didn’t even register what she’d said.
He wouldn’t hold it against her anyway, moving to her side to run a hand down her back. Hangovers could be killer, especially when attached to things like this. “Good, at least you were okay.” Lucky shifted into the kitchen to stare at them, probably preferring to hang around purely because Kate wasn’t herself.
“C’mon, sit down, I’ll get the coffee but you’d be better with the water just now anyway.” At least it might calm her throat a little. “You can settle down with Lucky cuddles.” Because Clint knew the oaf would settle on Kate the second he could.
Kate might not even remember she’d said it, if it ever registered in her hangover-adled brain. It was pretty much true, though. Somehow, Clint had dug in deep and settled under her skin. It would surprise her if she realized how true it was. She’d only ever been in love… well, maybe not ever before. Being in love was something she didn’t spend a whole lot of time obsessing about.
“Okay.” The brunette took the pills on the way to the sofa, washing them down with water, then flopped against the pillows. A second later--maybe less--Lucky had climbed up into her lap to cuddle. She let the dog lick her face for a moment before he settled down. Kate scratched his ears absent-mindedly. “My dad cut me off.” She said, though she didn’t raise her voice to call to him in the kitchen. That kind of noise just wasn’t acceptable with her headache.
The problem, of course, was that Clint would have a little ponder over it, even if he didn’t bring it up. It was pretty serious, and sure they’d already agreed that they were definitely serious about each other. And sure that was serious, but it wasn’t really a surprise, not really.
Either way, it could be shelved for later, like when Kate wasn’t nursing the hangover from hell. Clint was pretty quick with getting the coffee’s together, even if Kate could do without it, it’d be there for some semblance of comfort.
“What?” It wasn’t even just that he was confused at what she meant, he literally hadn’t caught it all, just exiting the kitchen to pick up the last of it there. Especially with her cuddled up with Lucky and not talking terribly loud.
Kate turned her head a little to look up at Clint as he came into the room. The lights were starting to feel a little less bright, the sounds a little less loud. Maybe it was Lucky’s head in her lap, maybe it was the water and Advil already kicking in… whatever it was, she was glad she’d come over.
“My dad.” She repeated, making sure to look him in the eye when she talked. “He cut me off. Financially. So I’m… gonna be broke. Soon.”
“I take it Thanksgiving didn’t go too well?” Which made sense, since Kate hadn’t wanted to be there and her dad hadn’t asked her in the first place. Her dad’s wife sounded like a piece of work too. And since it was practically across the country that they lived from each other, things would be too strained to really play nice for the length of time Kate visited.
Taking up a seat next to Kate, Clint had the coffee’s on the table while he moved to give her shoulders a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, that sucks.” Especially with no warning and no real safety net. And even though Kate had a job, it wasn’t exactly a great paycheck. “Anything I can do?”
“Thanksgiving sucked.” Kate said, turning to curl against him. She brought her head to rest on his chest, her arms draping across his middle. He was really warm, and that wasn’t great, but she’d rather be warm than not at the moment. Thankfully she wasn’t nauseated, just a dry, hollow sort of pain in her head and some of her muscles. Cuddling still felt good, not confining.
“No. Unless you know of a real life job that I can apply for. And a cheaper apartment I can move into.”
Real life job, not so much. He’d only just really gotten himself an actual job after months of sitting on his ass and just living on his savings -good thing about not spending money you earned tended to be that you actually had time to figure that shit out. Beyond that, Clint didn’t even know what Kate might want to do.
“Well, I can help you look.” The apartment thing was probably a more pressing thing -she’d have some time to find a better paying job if she didn’t need to worry about rent on what her dad had been paying, and he was a giant dick for just cutting her right off after making her so fucking dependent on his cash flow in the first place.
His first instinct was to tell her she could always crash at his -she was there a lot anyway, and it wasn’t like he took up all the space either, he wouldn’t mind. But logic said it was far too much and far too soon. And maybe Kate needed to stand on her own two feet for a little while first.
“I’ll help you look for an apartment too, I’ve still got some places bookmarked from when I was looking.” Because while Clint could afford better, he was such a cheap and easy sort of guy that it rarely mattered.
“Emma said she’d help me with my resume. I don’t even have a resume.” Kate wasn’t really even trained to do anything, either. She’d studied bartending with the sorority girls in college, and she could fence. Archery was a given. But other than that? She couldn’t really type, she didn’t have the best phone etiquette, she didn’t know crap about economics or law or any of that crap. And it was too late to go back to school, wasn’t it? Besides, she didn’t even know what she’d study.
“That’d be great.” She turned to lean completely against him, sucking in his warmth and using it to bandage her hangover wounds. “I just have to make it to thirty. I can live off credit cards for five years, right?”
Sometimes it was just about selling your better points, and even if you weren’t good at things, there was time to get good at them, or at least fake it until you made it. Clint was fairly certain that, aside from the army, he was trained for nothing either. The Agency was probably the best move in employment for him purely because it was the same as the army in a lot of ways. “Yeah, me either, don’t sweat it. I’m sure you’ll get something.”
Anything was better than nothing, right? And he’d help her figure out budgets and stuff.
Wrapping both his arms around her to keep her close to his chest, “You absolutely cannot, but it’s a good try,” Clint just smirked, because that way led to madness, “Don’t stress about it just now, babe. We’ll figure something out.” Even if he helped her get on her feet, it wouldn’t be a big deal, there’d be something to work with.
Kate gave a huge sigh. “All right. I’ll try. Ugh, can I just… nap? Right here between you guys?” She closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest. “You can put on a movie or something, just… don’t move.” The normally excitable, adventurous Kate was really slow and groggy, really miserable with her hangover this morning. Not moving sounded like the best course of action--at least until the pain killer kicked in and she didn’t feel like her head was going to implode anymore.
Lucky lifted his head and sniffed at Kate’s shirt, then lowered it back down again into her lap. His tail started to wag, thumping noiselessly against the sofa cushions. He was a good dog. Kate loved Lucky.