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Clint can say without a doubt, the one he loves more than anything in this world is his dog, Lucky. Lucky is the most dependable non-human he’s ever met–in fact, he’s probably more dependable than many humans he knows too. He also has three jobs, which is more jobs than some people he knows has too.
Lucky is, in the plainest, broadest term, a Medical Assistance Canine. He’s a Hearing Dog when Clint isn’t using his hearing aids (or when they’re lost or broken or out of battery) and he’s a Seizure Response Dog as well, because he gets them sometimes. After all, you can only get out so healthy after being hit in the head as many times as he has. He’s got some scar tissue, and medication to prevent it. But sometimes? It just happens. It’s rare, but just in case…
Lucky’s last job is a Brace/Mobility Support Dog. He usually only has this job when Clint’s injured himself in the line of duty (read: Avengering). Like that time he fell off a roof and broke his femur–among other things. Once the cast was off and the brace was on, well, Lucky’s a lot easier to walk around with with his harness than crutches.
He’s a bit of a mutt, but he’s large, solid, mostly Golden Lab-ish. One eye is squinty, like he’s winking all the time, but he’s been tested and it isn’t a blind spot. (If it had been, they might have protested training and licensing him as a Medical Assistance Dog.)
Lucky is family. He’s family to the point that Stark designed him protective armor so he can join Clint out in the field when they’re saving the world from the villain-du-jour. When the harness is off and he’s off-duty, he plays fetch with Steve, he lets Natasha use him as a foot rest, he dozes next to Bruce when he meditates. He plays tag (a slow and careful version) in Tony’s lab with the ‘bots and he eats pizza with Thor.
Lucky is always around, Clint always stays with him when he goes to visit the other Avengers, but mostly they can always be found within a few feet of each other.
It’s because of that that Clint is so worried. Because tonight? Tonight Clint has a date. Clint has a date with Phil, the really hot, older gentleman who is the liaison with the Avengers who Clint has been crushing on for months and months and months and is maybe just a little bit in love with him too.
Clint doesn’t want to screw this up. He really doesn’t. But, hell, showing up with Lucky must be really weird. Especially because he’s only ever seen Lucky in the battle armor or in just his collar around the Tower. Tonight Lucky has his vest and his pockets with medications and Important Info and… and state law says the vest has to be bright fucking orange.
At least he doesn’t have to be wearing the brace.
Clint shows up at the fancy restaurant and feels out of place. It’s not too fancy, it’s dress casual and he’s allowed to skip the tie and leave his shirt unbuttoned at the throat (his compromise with Natasha was a vest in a deep grey with lilac pinstripes). He’s not completely uncomfortable, but he does have a bit of an issue when he tries to bring Lucky in.
Clint tried his best, but Lucky does look a little mangy. Shit.
“What seems to be the problem?” Clint almost jumps because Phil’s materialized as his elbow and his hand is suddenly resting lightly against the small of his back. Clint and the maitre d both open their mouths to say something when he cuts them off. “Is there something wrong with our reservation?”
“No, just Lucky.” Clint can feel his ears burn and he’s painfully aware of his hearing aids as he clenches his jaw to keep a straight not-blushing face.
Phil scoffs and smiles a tiniest bit down at Lucky. “There can’t be anything wrong with Lucky, can there? He’s helped save New York as much as the rest of the Avengers. He helped you out when those electro-squids shorted out your hearing aids. He even saved the mayor.” He turns a firm, unsmiling look at the restaurant staff, “Plus, he’s a service dog, plain as day, and works very hard around the clock to keep one of, if not all the Avengers safe. He’s as good as an Avenger himself. Why would there ever be a problem with him?”
It’s almost laughable how smoothly things progress from there. Clint thinks he can count the number of times he blinked between there and being seated on one hand.
“I…” Lucky rests his head on Clint’s foot and thumps his tail across Phil’s under the table. “Uh.”
“Clint.” Phil gives him a borderline shy smile as he takes his hand. “Natasha told me you were worried about having to bring Lucky along. I’m sorry you got all worked up for nothing. He’s an amazing dog who has the most important job in the world.”
Clint returns the shy smile. “Oh yeah?”
“Yes.” Phil squeezes his fingers. “He keeps you safe.”
Clint can’t respond, he doesn’t know how. Lucky just keeps wagging his tail against Phil’s foot. It’s all that needs to be said anyway.