Spells N Tricks

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Clint never considered himself a nice guy. He hated too much to be nice.

For example, Clint hated his job. He worked on the road with a well-known circus to travel the world and preform acts. There were acrobats and elephants and yeah, it was cool-- if you were a seven year old kid.

Clint often slept around with foreign women he met in different towns to compensate for the hollowness he often felt. The women he met often in clubs and were practically leaping on him before he even made his first move.

That's why it shouldn't have surprised him when his manager shoved him a bundle of blankets and note, but it did. He blinked and his heart stuttered as peaked inside the heavy blankets to see a baby.

"W-Wait, what is this? Some kind of joke?" Clint said appalled, trying to push the baby back into his manager's hands.

"Knowing your habits, Barton, I seriously doubt it," and with that she turned on her heels and left his dressing room.

Clint's chest hurt as he haphazardly  placed the baby on the beanbag in the corner of his small room. He ripped off the note that was safety pinned to the blankets.

"Congrats, asshole," Clint read with a scoff.

This couldn't be right. Clint ran a troubled hand through his short hair and peeked back over at the sleeping baby. Clint could only sigh when he saw the dramatic similarities between him and the baby.

Clint's mind was racing with plans, some not involving the sleeping baby on the bean bag, but his manager came back in to interrupt his train of thought.

"The show just started. You're on in thirty," she poked her head in to say.

Clint sighed in response, "Can't you take the kid?"

"Clint," she warned.

"I don't mean like that just," he glanced back over at the bundle of sleeping baby on his bean bag, "Just until after the show."

"Fine," she sighed, "What did you name him?"

Clint blinked. He hadn't thought of that. The note didn't say anything else beside those two words so it was safe to assume the kid didn't have a name.

"I'll figure it out after," he replied while walking towards the door, "I'm going to get my stuff for the show, alright?"

"You better be back," his manager said sternly, reaching down to pick up the baby.

"I'm coming back, okay? I have some responsibility you know," Clint rolled his eyes. He left and slammed the door behind him before he could hear the silent:

"Yeah, right."

**

Clint was never a nice guy, but he was learning. He had quit the circus after their your was over and settled down in a small apartment in New York city. He remembers when the circus had done a show there and he absolutely fell in love with the city.

He walked through his apartment now, pushing pass the stack of boxes that he had never unloaded from when he first moved in. His living space was small and not extravagant, but it had a kitchen and two bedrooms. It was perfect since he was supporting two people now.

"Nate, what are you doing?" Clint asked, coming into the small living space. His son giggled, his bottom two tooth showing through his gums as he does so. The small child was teething on one of Clint's old drumsticks.

Clint could only chuckle at the six month old, picking him up to hold him close to his chest. Nate began babbling nonsense words and making baby noises.