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Bucky goes to pick up Al with a fruit basket for Misty.
Misty glares as Al hops onto Bucky’s waist and climbs all the way up to his shoulder, rubbing her neck on Bucky, scenting him, meowing softly. “She’s a nuisance.”
Bucky smiles apologetically, “still pals?”
“as long as you don’t ask me to catsit anymore.” Misty takes the fruit basket, so Bucky’d say he’s forgiven.
Alpine has her own mysterious system of deciding whom to mess with. Bucky, never. Nat, not in a million years. Steve, she’s the sweetest fluff ball ever walked on planet Earth. Carol, only when paired with Chewy. Kate, full goblin mode. Parker, total jerk. Stark, evil incarnate. To be honest Bucky hasn’t the foggiest clue why, the more pressing issue is that he’s running out of favors and there are only so many missions one can take a cat with.
“steve, pal, think you can take Al for a couple of days...oh. Ok, I’ll just find someone else. No, don’t worry. She misses you too.”
“Bobbi, are you free? I need to drop Al off a few days...I’ll even say please...yeah, fine. No, don’t sweat it. I’ll call someone else.”
“Nat...no. I was calling to see if you can take Al.”
“Luke, listen, I need you to babysit for me, just a couple of days...no, I’ve got a cat, you’ve only met her like half a dozen times. How can she be allergic, isn’t she a superbaby or something?”
“Daisy, like cats? No? Okay. Nothing.”
Another alert pops up on his phone, he really needs to find someone to take Al. Right fucking now.
That’s how he ends up calling Barton. To be fair, it’s not that he doesn’t trust Clint with his cat, only after Kate’s unfortunate experience, he suspects the chances of Al liking another Hawkeye is non-existent. Bucky just doesn’t want to cause his friends more trouble, ok? He’s a nice person.
“Clint, you home?”
“yeah, why.” the man sounds like he’s half conscious.
“I have a mission and I need you to take care of Al for me.”
“sure. Lucky’s here too, I’ll just open a shelter.”
“are you drugged?”
“only one ibuprofen and that’s 20 minutes ago.”
Bucky sighs. Why the hell does Clint always get his ass kicked like a street kid? He looks down to the white fur ball inside his jacket, “promise me to behave this time?”
“meow.”
“Good girl.”
-
Clint looks every bit as bad as he sounds. Several cuts on his face, a long, deep cut on his right thigh, the gauze on his left torso is stained with blood. Lucky circles Bucky twice before settling next to Clint, nuzzling Bucky’s hand with his nose. Bucky pets him while staring at Clint, he asks, “what the hell happened?”
“nuthin’, you shoulda see the other guys.” Clint’s gaze drops to Alpine and shifts back to Bucky, “you don’t have a cage? Or a leash? Toys? Litter box?”
“that’s a lot to carry in my jacket.” said Bucky, deadpan. He scoops Alpine out of his jacket, kissing the cat on the forehead before turning her to face Clint, “this’s Clint. His face is pretty messed up already, so no need to add more.”
The cat meows, tail wagging slightly.
“hey there.” Clint reaches one of his fingers under Al’s nose - Misty got bitten right then. Al sniffs it and makes no reaction, naturally, Clint takes it as a cue to move forward. He uses 3 fingers to scratch Al’s chin, to Bucky’s surprise, she starts to make a satisfactory purring sound almost instantly.
“ha, she likes me.” Clint exclaims.
Bucky hands the cat over to Clint, who takes her into his arm, cuddling her like a newborn child. Al is a slender cat, no bigger than Clint’s forearm, she drapes over Clint’s arm with her eyes closed, enjoying scratches. Somehow it makes Bucky jealous.
“I gotta go.” Bucky announces. He’s still looking at Alpine intently, almost expecting that’d get her to snap back to her senses. The little traitor only purrs louder.
“Al, say bye to your greasy assassin papa.”
“meerrr.”
Bucky gives Lucky a loud kiss on the head before leaving.
-
Bucky gets a photo of Al and Lucky sharing a cushion together at 9pm EST from Clint.
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Bucky gets a photo of Al stealing a chunk of salmon from Clint’s plate at 7am EST from Clint.
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Bucky gets a photo of Al and Lucky walking down the central park at 7.30 am EST from Clint.
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Bucky gets a photo of Al chasing a butterfly in the central park at 7.46 am EST from Clint.
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Bucky gets a photo of Al being petted by a little girl by a taco truck at 8.02 am EST from Clint.
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Bucky gets a video of Al being licked wet by Lucky at 9.21 am EST from Clint.
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Bucky gets a video of Al and Lucky chasing a tennis ball in the apartment at 10.30 am EST from Clint.
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Bucky gets a video of his ruined apartment as a result of Al and Lucky chasing around at 10.41 am EST from Clint.
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Bucky gets a video of Lucky barking at the window while Al stalks the windstill with her tail raised high at 11.22am EST.
-
“stop sending me stuff. I’m on a mission.”
-
Bucky gets a selfie of Al, Lucky and Clint 30 seconds after his text. Bucky sighs. And saves the photo, as he does all the other stuff Clint’s sent him.
-
Bucky shows up at Clint’s door 5 days later with cuts on his face, a hole on the right side of his torso and a twisted right knee.
“looks worse than it actually is.” Bucky says.
“no shit.” Clint crosses his arms and stares. Bucky stares back.
Bucky lets out a frustrated sigh, “can I just get my cat back so I can go home?”
“she’s napping.” Clint lets Bucky into the living room. Al is lying on Lucky’s bed - Kate’s taken Lucky for a PI case yesterday - her tiny body rises and falls with each breath. It makes Bucky feel home.
“wasn’t your place raided by Hydra?” comes Clint’s voice behind him.
“I still got that place in Manhattan.” Al wakes up before Bucky can reach her, but it’s fine, because Al is equally excited to see Bucky again. She jumps right into Bucky’s open arms and starts to scent him immediately.
“why did you move anyway?” Clint sits down on the sofa, hugging a mug close to his chest.
Bucky shrugs. “homesick.”
“you spent, like, 10 years in Indiana before you moved to New Jersey of all places. And that’s a century ago.”
“just because you don’t like the midwest doesn’t mean other people can’t.”
Clint grunts, frustrated. He doesn’t miss Iowa or anything that’s got to do with his past, before he became an Avenger. If he has to be honest, his Avengers days aren’t always sunshine and birds singing either. Besides, he isn’t exactly an Avenger anymore anyway.
Clint takes a gulp of his tea - yes, he drinks something other than coffee thank you very much - and discovers that Bucky’s still standing in his living room. “what?”
Bucky tilts his head. “are you saying you miss me in here, in New York?”
“wow, didn’t know you’ve got a head injury as well.” Clint ducks his head cuz he totally isn’t saying that.
“I’ve had enough brain damage to last 3 lifetimes, Clint.”
“and I’ve had more concussions than all the Avengers combined, it’s not a competition.” Clint realizes he has crossed to the ‘bitter’ side of sarcasm, he doesn’t know why he is suddenly uncomfortable with Bucky’s presence here. He jokes, in an attempt to relieve the tension, “Get out of my apartment. I’m trying to meditate here.”
“I can recommend you some music.”
“no need.” because he doesn’t, and will not meditate. “just send me photos of your cat. And I retain visitation rights.”
When Clint looks up, Bucky is smiling. “sure.”