"What? You didn't see that coming?"

@scxrletwxnda]

He continued petting the dog, who seemed pretty happy, as he answered. “No, it isn’t. Too much going on to have to watch some civilian.” War photographers existed - he thought - but he hadn’t been in the right place to get in too much footage. Once he arrived, though, the video cameras were everywhere. “I’d like that, I think.” His own room, in a place that probably had plumbing and heat. It’d be nice. “Thanks. You -” shouldn’t? “didn’t need to do this.”

Clint’s eyes stayed on Lucky so he didn’t stare at the male like he wanted to. He honestly looked like he needed a bath and a brush but he wasn’t going to say anything about it, it wasn’t his place. “I’ll have to give you a blanket and stuff but one of the guest rooms is all yours.” He told him before smiling at him, keeping his body language non threatening. “I know what it’s like to have you taken out and someone shoving something back in. Besides, you look like you need somewhere to lay your head for a while. It’s just me on the farm.” 

The dog was back. That was nice, he thought, petting the dog once more, though never taking his eyes off of Barton. That would be a mistake now that they both knew who the other was. A place to stay was tempting. It was off the beaten path and he did have to admit the sight lines weren’t bad at all. “I did that one time. In the war, I think. Mostly because he couldn’t watch his own damn back. Fewer photographers then.” He’d still have to think about the offer. He wouldn’t be able to trust Barton, of course, but the man would be relatively easy to get along with. He had a dog after all. He gave a small smile. “Nice to meet you, too.” Asking for help was hard. “Were you telling the truth about me staying?”

Clint smiles fondly at Lucky, knowing that the big puppy just wanted to help in anyway he could. He looks around his family farm and wonders if he should build a bigger house but it would be useless since it was just him and Lucky, (And maybe James) so they don’t need much space. It’ll give him something to do though. “War isn’t a place for photographers.” He hums and looks back up at James with a small smile. “Yeah, got a few extra rooms that you’re welcome to pick from.” 

“Sorry.” How to explain that the name made him instantly suspicious. They hadn’t used it much, not after it had caused malfunctions in some of the earlier wipes - or so he thinks. “I did not mean to trespass.” Barton. He’d read something. Or maybe a picture. “You’re the one the news don’t get many pictures of. Hard to find a sniper.” Introductions were important, even if the other man knew who he was. “I’m James,” he said tentatively. 

Clint relaxes when the other didn’t shoot him and lets Lucky go back over to the male and head butt his legs to get him to pet him again. “It’s cool, just me and Lucky here. You’re welcome to stay here.” He tells James with a small, tight smile on his face. “That’s why I’m glad I’m a sniper. Don't like pictures being taken of me on the job.” It’s ugly work what he does and he knows his files have been leaked after DC and knows the worlds knows just how dark his past was. “Nice to meet you, James.” 

“What do you want?” 

Clint shifts so he’s between Lucky and Barnes, not knowing if he set the male off. Honestly he should’ve acted like he didn’t know the male but he couldn’t do so because he wants to help the male.  “Hey, you’re the one that showed up on my farm. I’m Clint Barton.”  He tells him hoping the male wouldn’t shoot him in front of his dog, that would suck so much. Lucky let out a whine as Clint moved him out of the way just in case Barnes decides to shoot him anyways. 

I mean look at their expressions!!! Bucky in Hawkeye themed pyjamas!!!

Petting with just one hand, hiding the metal one as much as he could. Dogs were less complex. Their owners more so. It was very aware of the man’s presence, but kept himself calm - waiting.

“Thanks? He’s a pain in the ass most days.”  Clint looks down at Lucky for a moment and saw that his dog wasn’t being hurt so he let it go, even if his instinct was to grab his bow and shoot the male. He knows who he is and knows what it’s like to have your brain taken out and something else stuffed back in. He bends down and claps his hands together so Lucky would come to him. He grins as his dog licks his face and nuzzles under his chin.  “What’re you doing here, Barnes?” 

Unfinished comics-inspired WinterHawk.