Work Text:
Lucky lives on the floor, mostly. Clint got him a bed (okay, a box with a blanket, and also a pillow that had once been used as target practice, but Clint put a new pillow case on it and stapled up the open end so that none of the insides that were trying to come out could), but no go. Lucky walked around it, sniffed at it, and then lay right down beside it with his head on his paws and looked up at Clint.
Maybe he's used to floors. Clint gets that. What you're used to is what's comfortable.
**
The first time Clint leaves the apartment after Lucky came home with him, he just walks out the door. Shit that needs to get done doesn't do itself.
When he gets back, Lucky's parked inside the door. Clint doesn't jump. It's a dog, not a bomb.
Lucky's tail wags. He's kinda leaning to one side, clearly still favoring his various busted areas.
Clint leans down and scrubs the spot between Lucky's ears. Lucky's mouth falls open, tongue lolling, and his butt pops up so that he's standing now, leaning against Clint's leg.
"Hey, boy," Clint says.
Lucky leans some more.
**
It doesn't take long to find out that pizza isn't the only thing Lucky likes. Sandwiches are also a hit, especially turkey. All of this is a good thing, considering that Clint keeps getting sidetracked on the way to buying actual food meant for dogs.
Kate shows up on a Thursday with a huge bag.
"Dog food," she says, dropping it at Clint's feet. Then she hands over the box smelling of sausage and something vegetable oriented. "People food."
He and Kate eat the pizza together. Turns out the vegetables are broccoli and Clint is reconsidering just how perfect Kate is. Before they dug in, Clint found a clean bowl and poured some of the pellets into it, and Lucky fell on it like he hadn't had anything in the last week, faker. But now Clint has the last slice in one hand, is waving the other to demonstrate the arc of the shot he'd taken yesterday to pin the electric wire that had been about to fall into the community pool up on Bradhurst, and he bops Lucky on the nose.
Lucky doesn't make a sound (he tends not to and Clint gets that, too, can't help smiling every time Lucky does bark), just stares with a look that Cap should never see, because he'd add that one to his arsenal, and jeez, where would they be then.
"Really?" Kate asks, eyebrows high.
Clint shrugs as Lucky grabs the offered slice with his teeth and drops down to devour that, too.
**
Clint has a shadow around the apartment. Unlike S.H.I.E.L.D. or the mansion, there aren't a vast number rooms, so it's not like it would require a computer to find him if he went somewhere. Every time he gets up, though, so does Lucky.
They never trip over each other. Lucky is aces at settling in the spot Clint doesn't need to be in. The increasing number of people who come to Clint's door are now greeting him after they smile down at Lucky.
Eventually Clint lets himself stop finding it freaky.
**
Stark doesn't blink at Clint's new roommate. Of course, he's not so good at noticing things that don't have circuitry and Lucky is as silent as ever, but still. Dog.
One day after the latest debrief on something that might explode sometime soon, Steve gives Clint a thing of tennis balls.
Clint bounces the tube in his hand, cocks his head. "You gonna make me ask?"
Steve's smile is the one that comes out whenever there's something that makes him think of home. "Tony mentioned you'd gotten a dog. He didn't know what breed, but I figure no matter the breed or the year, they still like chasing things, right?"
Clint opens his mouth. Looks down at the balls in his hand. "I guess?" he says.
There's some silence. Clint is taking a huge chance looking back up, but he does it. What's in Steve's eyes is...not not good.
"There's a park in Brooklyn I used to watch dogs in all the time," Steve finally says, his voice going up at the end like he's offering something.
Clint considers, but he's not sure. "Think they'll haul me in for having a mutt on the subway?"
A sly smile breaks across Steve's face. "Let's find out."
**
Lucky had bonded with the tiny Simones over popcorn. There'd been lots of giggling at the wrong places during the Christmas specials and Lucky's eye had been on them as much as it was on Clint, watching with a focus worthy of a sniper for the next piece that was gonna fall.
The next time Clint ends up gone for a few days, he comes back to find a note on his door. He winces as he reaches up to grab it (he's got pills, they're in his bag, they might make it out of his bag at some point, maybe) and he reads it before putting his key in the lock.
Lucky greets him with the standard tail wag. It doesn't hurt to reach down in order to scratch him between the ears in return. But Lucky lets out a surprised whuf when Clint lets his bag slide to the floor with a thump and heads to the kitchen.
Clint opens three drawers before he finds the extra extra keys. Then he picks up the phone and looks at the new crayon artwork on his refrigerator while he calls Kate.
"Got another set," he says when she answers.
"Good. I'll come get it tomorrow. Take your damn medication and go to bed."
"Yeah," he says.
Lucky is in yellow. Clint is in purple. Simone's kids are in red. That feels right.
**
"Dog Cops" was great before Lucky moved in. All sorts of things going on in the world that the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. are too big to handle, and dogs are out there fixing them. Nothing wrong there.
The tv hadn't really had much to do until the damn DVR was working, so it doesn't surprise Clint too much that since Lucky had been introduced to the idea that tv came with popcorn, he perks up when Clint turns the tv on one night. But Clint wriggles until his butt is settled in the right spot and eyes the remote (he hadn't been in control the other week, the kids had done it all, so many buttons, why did he need that many buttons), and absently says, "Not tonight, buddy, sorry," and Lucky flops on the floor.
It takes longer than Clint is going to admit, but he doesn't feel bad about shouting "Ah-ha!" with a triumphant shake of the remote when a picture pops up on the screen and the music starts.
Then Lucky jumps up onto the couch.
Clint actually looks away from the opening theme of "Dog Cops" and stares at him. Lucky's sitting straight up, eye locked on the tv, tail going a million beats a minute, thwack, thump, thwack against the cushions and the couch arm.
"Okay," Clint says, feeling a grin take over his face.
When Lucky yaps and plops down next to Clint with his tail still going, Clint starts laughing.