"So she shouldn't need more than water tonight, and here's her favorite stuffed animal in case she wants to snuggle with something. And some towels, in case she throws anything up. And... I think that's it."

Steve gives Clint a bemused look. "I'm sure we'll be fine. What did she get into, anyway?"

Clint's face is almost as regretful as the dog with drooping ears sitting by his feet.

"The gourmet dinner we should have been eating tonight. Four-foot-high counters? Not tall enough that she can't get the food. I swear she must be part hound. Nothing is too high. Not the counter, not the bed, not the baby gates that were Tony's bright idea of a joke."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of her. You two go and have a good time." Steve hides his grin and takes the leash Clint remembers to fish out of the pockets of his black slacks. Few things get the archer as antsy as a sick Lapa; a broken bow, an op going south, and Coulson finding out he avoided Medical are about the only things to top it. But five months ago the stray puppy worked her way into Clint's heartstrings during the hours he spent trapped with her in the rubble, and her place at the Avengers Tower was cemented when she gave the Hulk the cautious face-wash as everyone else involved in the rescue effort.

Natasha steps into the entryway, hair brushed into crimson waves over an elegant black dress that sets off her curves, a long coat hooked over her shoulder. She stands on her tiptoes to brush a kiss against Steve's cheek, a smile on her lips.

"Thank you. Ready to go?" When Clint hesitates, she raises an eyebrow. "Lapa will survive. She has eaten worse things before; I have no doubt she will do so again." But there is amusement in her grey eyes. "Captain America is watching out for her, our reservation is in half an hour, and I am sure at the first sign of trouble we can make the ten blocks back in record time. So?"

Clint, a braver man than said Captain America, wavers for another moment. Steve can't stifle his laugh and turns it into a cough.

"Okay," the archer finally concedes, admitting defeat as he rubs the back of his head. "But you'll call if you need us?"

Steve holds up the index card he was presented with upon arrival. He has all of them memorized already - it wasn't his first time pet-sitting - but it never hurts to reassure Clint.

"Both your cells, the after-hours number for the vet, and Happy's emergency line if we need to get somewhere fast. We're good."

"All right. Be good, girl." Clint bends and rubs Lapa's ears with a calloused hand, ignoring the fine hairs that drift onto his maroon shirt. Natasha lets out a small breath, her expression suggesting they wouldn't be going through this if he had been more careful - but Steve doesn't miss the affectionate caress she gives their moping pup, or how she crouches down to her level to murmur something in liquid Russian. Lapa's tail beats softly against the wooden floor in response and continues until they leave, vanishing behind the closing door. Only when they are out of sight does she sigh, body language spelling defeat, and look up at Steve with a whine.

"Just the two of us tonight," he tells her, smiling at her beleaguered air. "It's been a while since I've spent some time alone with a classy lady. Not a bad way to celebrate Valentine's Day, all things considered."

(cont.)

Forty-five minutes later Clint and Natasha return to find them asleep on the couch, a bowl of popcorn by Steve's hand, Lapa's head on his slowly rising chest. The (possibly) part-hound puppy opens amber eyes, tail thumping against the cushions, and stays guarding their teammate until Natasha wakes him, brushing a hand across his forehead.

"Hey," he says, blinking as he sits up. "You're back early."

"You know Clint, he makes for terrible company when he's worried," she replies with a half-smile. "You're really watching a movie called Valentine's Day?"

"Seemed appropriate." Steve pats Lapa's smooth coat, gently shifting her weight off.

"Yeah, well, it's a terrible movie. Knock-off of Love Actually but done by Americans." Clint makes a face and puts his coat on the back of the couch, bending to greet his puppy.

"You should stay," Natasha comments when Steve moves to get up. "Even if it's set around Christmas, we can watch it tonight. If Tony doesn't have the sense to own a copy, I'm sure Pepper does."

He pauses, caught awkwardly halfway to his feet. She notices his uncertainty and smiles at him over the blanket she's pulling from a basket, bright and warm and fond all at once.

"We won't be doing more than watching a movie anyway, if Lapa is feeling poorly. Valentine's Day is no different than any other day for us; Clint only owed me such a dinner tonight because he places poor bets." Her smile gains a sharper edge. "The stipulation that he cook it only wearing an apron explains why we were distracted when she wanted a snack."

Steve coughs as Clint makes a noise behind him. But they end up with two more bowls of popcorn (one more kettlecorn, one extra buttery, air popped because Clint swears he will have none of that Orville baloney in his kitchen) and Steve takes over the love-seat as Clint and Natasha curl up on the couch, everyone draped in blankets and laughter and Lapa switching between them until she settles onto Steve’s legs, content to have her family home around her.



author's note: Lapa is (theoretically) Russian for 'darling'.

Edited 2014-02-14 02:34 am (UTC)

Awww, this is so cute! And I *LOVE* the explanation for why Steve had to come over and doggy-sit. Tee hee!! I do not blame their distraction at all! Nope! Not one bit. ;D

Never a dull moment at their place, I'm sure. ;D Thank you!

Loved this interpretation of the prompt. And of course Natasha wins all the bets :)

Thank you! :) And yes, Clint really should know better by now... but it's Clint. It's not his fault the Broncos couldn't get their act together!

Too sweet! I love these kinds of slice of life fics.

And yeah, Clint in nothing but an apron would be distracting!

Stopping Dr. Doom: $3.6 million in property damage
Recovery for bruised collarbone and wrenched knee: 6 weeks
Moments when the world isn't ending: Priceless.

Thank you! :D

Puppy!!! This is so cute and I love this interpretation of babysitting :) The thought of Clint in just an apron had me swooning. And Clint and Nat more or less adopting Steve for the holiday... *sigh*

PUPPY! My brain delights in turning prompts sideways and shaking them, which inevitably results in this kind of thing. :D And yes, I really wanted them to hang onto Steve because, hey, friendships should be celebrated too. Thanks. ;)

Aww man that is ridiculously cute. :P