Chapter Text
In an effort to keep it from feeling like a forced march, Laura had originally planned a few side trips for the drive back home, but everyone (kids and all) voted to just get through it as fast as possible so they could be home and done with it. Clint and Nat were all over that directive, which let Laura keep the kids focused on something other than how much longer they had to go. Nate was super-happy with movies, Cooper eventually got settled in with one of the spare tablets and some graphic novels that he hadn’t read, and Lila, to Laura’s surprise, had gotten into all the photos they’d taken (and had taken) and was busily making digital albums with Wanda.
Laura wasn’t going to argue with any of that and just set a timer so the maniacs at the wheel remembered that kids needed more stops than strike teams and dug out an actual novel to read until the current peace evaporated and she’d need to run interference and practice advanced negotiation tactics. It turned out that everyone was tired enough to take a few long naps (the adults included—Laura woke up a couple of times to see that only the driver was awake.) Clint had always had the knack of finding diners no matter where they were so their meal stops were low on healthy food but got high marks from everyone on taste. (Nate ate pancakes all three times, but at least got a few berries and peach slices into his mouth, too.)
“Mom,” Cooper said as they climbed back into the Suburban, “can we have spaghetti and meatball soup for dinner tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Laura said. She glanced over to Natasha. “This would be where I remind you that I don’t do gourmet, okay? It hasn’t gotten any better in the last year.”
“Ohhh, chicken and rice hotdish,” Lila called from the very back seat. “Please.”
“Meatloaf,” Clint added. “With enough for sandwiches the rest of the week.”
“I’m making a shopping list now,” Laura said. Not having to make the decision on what to cook was half the battle. She added chicken and dumplings for herself and tried to remember what was stashed in the freezer. It had only been a week, but she had no idea what was there—clearly, Disney was very good at yanking people out of reality.
“I volunteer for a pizza run,” Natasha said, which was as close as she was going to say that she’d accepted that she was welcome. Laura caught Clint’s eye in the rearview mirror and cheered silently with him. “We all know it’s best not to let me loose in the kitchen.” Clint snorted, but since he was driving, Natasha’s smack to his biceps didn’t break anything.
Wanda quietly offered to make some goulash if Laura thought people might like it, (“We’ll call it stew, it’ll be fine,” Laura told her), so they were probably good for the first week back.
The final three hours was an endurance test, but the thought of stopping so close to home didn’t appeal to anyone so they all just toughed it out. Lila and Cooper were right on the edge of whiny and sullen, respectively, and Nate was about two breaths away from a full-blown tantrum by the time Natasha turned them off the road and onto the gravel of their drive, but they made it without any blow-ups. Laura summoned the energy to high-five the kids as they all but fell out of the truck.
“Dump your suitcases by the laundry room,” Laura called. She wasn’t even going to try to sort dirty from clean; it could all get washed.
“Dad said we could have the dining room to put together the Legos Auntie Nat got for us,” Cooper said as he unearthed the bags (and bags and even more bags) from the Lego store they had spent half an evening in. “On account of how many parts they have.”
“Do I want to know the answer to that?” Laura said. She’d been outside watching Nate run around while the gift-purchasing had happened, and they’d had everything sent back to the hotel so this was the first time she’d really seen anything.
“The one we got for me and Dad to build has more than 7000 pieces,” Cooper said excitedly. “It’s the Millennium Falcon—one of the ships from Star Wars,” he added, just in case she'd missed out on that particular bit of pop culture. “Ly’s has 4000—it’s the castle.”
“There’s a Tinker Bell minifig!” Lila announced as she dragged her wheelie suitcase up the steps, letting it thud down on every one. “Dad said he’d help me, too.”
“You do not want to ask the cost,” Natasha said, breezing by with Nate on her shoulders. “Also, there’s a delivery coming for Mr. Nathaniel here.”
“Car!” Nate crowed. “Vrooooooom.”
“A Nate-sized, powered Lightning McQueen,” Clint said. “It was the only one that had one of those parent handles in the back so at least I can keep him from driving right into the P-O-N-D.” He manhandled the big cooler out of the back of the truck and slammed the door before jogging up the steps and dropping a kiss on Laura’s mouth. “You probably don’t want to ask how much that one cost either.”
“Fine,” Laura sighed, accepting that she’d lost this round while appreciating the lengths Natasha had gone to make it easier for Laura to cave (nothing that had been a bone of contention; everything creative or active and easy to involve Clint with.) “That woman is—“
“Scary, yep,” Clint said.
“Devious and amazing, but yes, a little scary,” Laura answered, and then turned to yell up at the kids to brush their teeth and get settled with their books because Mom was tired and the lights were going to be going out faster than they thought.
“All the lights?” Clint asked, catching Nate as he back-flipped off Natasha’s shoulders and heading up toward the bathroom all the kids shared. He didn’t actually waggle his eyebrows at her, but she could tell he wanted to by the way he laughed when she shooed him up the stairs.
Natasha helped her unpack the cooler and brushed off every thank you Laura tried to offer. That was fine; the kids could write her a few notes and maybe paint her a picture or two (Lila’s preferred method of communication) whether or not she wanted to hear about it or not. Wanda waved as she staggered into her bedroom and Laura admitted she wasn’t in much better shape.
“I’m done,” she told Natasha. “I can deal with this in the morning.” Natasha accepted a hug with surprising ease, and told Laura to tell Clint that she’d do rounds for the night.
Laura really did like how Clint had reworked the attic so that their room had an extra measure of privacy from being on its own floor, but the stairs were going to kill her one night. Not bothering with the overhead light, she flopped down on the bed and let herself sink into the quilt.
“You weren’t kidding about the lights-out,” Clint said as he came into the room an indeterminate amount of time later. Laura didn’t think she’d fallen asleep, but who really knew?
“There’s a full moon tonight,” she answered, waving vaguely at the windows. The blinds and curtains were open and the cool white light spilled in. “It’s fine.”
She thought he was going to have something smart to say, but he’d dropped down next to her and whatever it was was lost in a groan.
“Yep,” she agreed. “’s good to be home.”
“We survived Disney World,” Clint said, reaching out to drape an arm over her stomach. “Is there a medal for that?”
“Just the credit card bills,” Laura answered in the same light, half-joking tone, but she knew there was a lot going on under it. Even before the last, hideous year, family trips to amusement parks were not something that had ever really been a part of their lives, especially Clint’s family. She still really liked finding ways to kick back against that history, she found. That wasn’t something to talk about now, though, so she rolled over onto her side and traced her fingers over where the moonlight picked up the silver in the short hair in Clint’s temples. “You know what’s really nice, though?” He hummed an interrogative in response, low and lazy and still damn sexy even after fifteen years. Laura smiled. "There is not a single cartoon fish watching us right now."
Clint snickered, which was its own reward, but then he slid his hand up under her shirt. "I don't know, I feel like I handled that issue pretty well."
"I'm not going to argue," Laura said. She wasn't ordinarily a fan of shower sex--too much potential for disaster--but it had worked out very well during the week away. At the very least, the master bath in their suite didn't have anything cute on the walls staring down at them. "But," she tilted her head to take in the room Clint had built for them, the drapes and quilt Laura had pieced together, the heavy oak headboard and the king-sized mattress, "here we are now."
"I suppose it'll do," Clint said, unbuttoning her shirt from the inside out. "Yeah?"
"Damned straight," Laura agreed.