[His closet? Davesprite's posture visibly perks up, but—nah, they can wait. He's got pizza. He crams another bite of it into his face hole, but still gives Clint an enthusiastic thumbs up in return the one he makes. It's pretty great to see him move his hand so freely.]
[But is he okay?]
I'm not dead or an anomaly or brainfucked by degrading nanowhatever. Get me some Flinstones vitamins and teach me how a kitchen is supposed to work, and I'll probably kick malnutrition's ass pretty quick.
[He'll let Clint handle the who and why, for however much answer they got to that. Instead he asks him his own question.]
D'you think SHIELD could check mine too? Though they probably would want to anyway. Not every day you get an orange bird guy with glowstick blood from an alternate dead universe showing up.
You should ask Natasha about the who and why, Kate. [ Clint says, pausing in his quest to devour as much pizza as possible in one sitting. Natasha paid more attention, knew the ins and outs, and it's easier for her to give mission briefings. Clint doesn't want to talk about Miller or Eve. He wipes his mouth with his hand with no measure of grace whatsoever. ] But we're okay. Promise.
It'll be even better once we show DS what goes in a fridge. [ It's not swords. Surprise! Clint wipes the grease on his hands on his sweatpants like an animal and rests a hand on Kate's forearm. ] I accidentally adopted him, so now you gotta help me raise him.
[ He's teasing! Mostly. Please help. To Davesprite: ] Yeah. Part of the deal for me getting to go home was me bringing you in to make sure you're all good to go. I already said I'm responsible for you so they're not gonna throw a fit. Probably.
You can meet everybody else, too. Cap's gonna want to give you an inspiring speech or something.
Nope. [Kate glances over her shoulder at Davesprite.] Sorry, Dave. I'm only like two years older than you, anyway. We're not pulling some weird Woody Allen thing.
[Joking is fine. She can do joking. She's not really touching her pizza, though.]
Hey, I know food is supposed to go in a fridge. [Beat.] Just not sure which food.
[Media told him some things, but not everything. As for Kate?]
Of course you're not adopting me. I only just met you and you're not old enough to be my hot mom. Any mom. You're a hot non-mom. Clint, steal her pizza she's not eating it and pineapple is for sad people.
[He grabs a couple more slices of whatever non-befruited food punishment is left and floats up to perch on top of the fridge. Around a mouthful of cheesy bread dinner:]
Hey, tell me about Cap. [He swallows.] And how many times do you think I'll have to explain to them about Sburb?
Are you calling me a sad people? [ Clint asks idly, reaching over to steal Kate's pineapple. ] Or are you calling her a sad people?
[ He pops it in his mouth. ] Cap's great when he's not being stupidly stubborn about things. [ A beat. ] And considering you still end up having to explain things about Sburb to me, probably a lot.
[Davesprite holds a hand up, palm open. He'd use both for full defensive posturing, but he's using the other one to keep his pizza plate steady. Why do you think he retreated to perching on the fridge, Kate?]
You can't make me sleep on the floor. I've slept there too many times the past few months, and if you try I'm gonna cause hell the way only an oversized bird dude can.
[Then to Clint:]
You're a downright clinical case of sad dad-ism. Unless you're trying to tell me the couch is your best friend and your endless napping is how you two catch up on the haps, and if you do say it I'm just gonna mark you down as even sadder than I thought. Plus, anyone would be depressed knowing they've got a history of costumes as bad as yours. Blame Kate for that.
[Speaking of.]
You're sad automatically because you put fruit on pizza, and you defend all that purple.
Nobody has to sleep on the floor, I have enough space for everybody. [ Grumble grumble. He also opens his mouth to protest Kate's accusation, but Davesprite picks it up and goes, as always, and Clint just flounders uselessly before just closing his mouth with a disgruntled look. ]
Hey. We talked about not dissing the purple, DS. [ He's totally useful to this conversation, as you can see. ]
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[But is he okay?]
I'm not dead or an anomaly or brainfucked by degrading nanowhatever. Get me some Flinstones vitamins and teach me how a kitchen is supposed to work, and I'll probably kick malnutrition's ass pretty quick.
[He'll let Clint handle the who and why, for however much answer they got to that. Instead he asks him his own question.]
D'you think SHIELD could check mine too? Though they probably would want to anyway. Not every day you get an orange bird guy with glowstick blood from an alternate dead universe showing up.
no subject
It'll be even better once we show DS what goes in a fridge. [ It's not swords. Surprise! Clint wipes the grease on his hands on his sweatpants like an animal and rests a hand on Kate's forearm. ] I accidentally adopted him, so now you gotta help me raise him.
[ He's teasing! Mostly. Please help. To Davesprite: ] Yeah. Part of the deal for me getting to go home was me bringing you in to make sure you're all good to go. I already said I'm responsible for you so they're not gonna throw a fit. Probably.
You can meet everybody else, too. Cap's gonna want to give you an inspiring speech or something.
no subject
[Joking is fine. She can do joking. She's not really touching her pizza, though.]
I am sorry for this boy
[Media told him some things, but not everything. As for Kate?]
Of course you're not adopting me. I only just met you and you're not old enough to be my hot mom. Any mom. You're a hot non-mom. Clint, steal her pizza she's not eating it and pineapple is for sad people.
[He grabs a couple more slices of whatever non-befruited food punishment is left and floats up to perch on top of the fridge. Around a mouthful of cheesy bread dinner:]
Hey, tell me about Cap. [He swallows.] And how many times do you think I'll have to explain to them about Sburb?
noogies him
[ He pops it in his mouth. ] Cap's great when he's not being stupidly stubborn about things. [ A beat. ] And considering you still end up having to explain things about Sburb to me, probably a lot.
Kate, eat your pizza.
no subject
[Kate uses her slice of pizza to point at Davesprite.]
- if you make one more hot mom joke about me I'm making you sleep on the floor.
[And then, to Clint:]
You're the saddest man I've ever met.
no subject
You can't make me sleep on the floor. I've slept there too many times the past few months, and if you try I'm gonna cause hell the way only an oversized bird dude can.
[Then to Clint:]
You're a downright clinical case of sad dad-ism. Unless you're trying to tell me the couch is your best friend and your endless napping is how you two catch up on the haps, and if you do say it I'm just gonna mark you down as even sadder than I thought. Plus, anyone would be depressed knowing they've got a history of costumes as bad as yours. Blame Kate for that.
[Speaking of.]
You're sad automatically because you put fruit on pizza, and you defend all that purple.
no subject
Hey. We talked about not dissing the purple, DS. [ He's totally useful to this conversation, as you can see. ]