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Sunday is Nap Day

Summary:

So. That's what Lucky is doing one seventh sleep day when the disembodied voice that Clint calls "JARVIS" and Lucky calls "TATTLE-TELL" announces that there's a visitor at the door.

OR

"Sunday is Laundry Day" from Lucky-the-Pizza-Dog's POV.

Notes:

This is the conclusion to the "Sundays" series. I've always wanted to do one from Lucky's POV, so enjoy!

Also it's been three years since I posted the first installment. Holy crow.

Work Text:

Lucky has lived with Clint for a long time. At least a hundred sleeps, but probably more. Lucky loves Clint a lot. Lucky also loves pizza and cold cartons of leftover Chinese food and his purple stuffed hippo that squeaks when he squeezes it just right. But most of all - okay, that's a lie; Lucky loves Clint most of all, so it would be second most of all - Lucky loves naps. 

The last home Lucky lived in with Clint and not-Clint (who Clint sometimes calls "Sir" and sometimes calls "Coulson" and sometimes calls "Oh Jesus, yes, right there!") had a patch of sunlight no bigger than Lucky's body that liked to sneak across the floor throughout the day. Lucky took great pleasure in shuffling across the carpet with it, following the warm path it took and dozing off just long enough for it to sneak off again. 

The home they live in now is even better. There's a patch of sunlight that stretches wall to wall, and the only time it moves is when it goes away for the long sleep each night. Lucky adores the new home and so does his hippo. 

Every morning, Clint and not-Clint (who Lucky sometimes calls "smells like sugar" and sometimes calls "smells like Clint" and sometimes calls "smells like blood") nudge Lucky off the bed. The bed creaks something fierce, so Lucky takes his hippo and shuffles to the room with the sun. Morning starts early for Clint and not-Clint (well before the long sleep should end, in Lucky's opinion), so there's enough time for Lucky's second favorite thing - a long nap in the dark before breakfast. After breakfast, Clint and not-Clint disappear for a few hours (or, sometimes, a few days, but there are new friends that smell of metal and pop-tarts and ozone that visit when that happens), and Lucky returns to the room with the sun for more naps. 

But every seven long sleeps comes a day unlike any other. Clint and not-Clint don't nudge Lucky off the bed on these days. They laze around, snuggled close and breathing deeply, fast asleep well past the end of the long sleep, and Lucky snuggles in close with them, content to nap with his head on Clint's hip and his tail thudding happily against the bed. The hippo is tucked carefully between Lucky's front paws, but he doesn't make it squeak because it makes not-Clint smell grumpy. This magical day means Lucky gets bacon for breakfast and extra ear scritches and (best of all!) Lucky's people stay with him all day long. Clint pulls Lucky up on the couch and tucks him against his side and they snooze together as the sun warms them just past the point of comfort. Not-Clint sits on the far end of the couch, Clint's head in his lap, and fiddles quietly with a boring, flat piece of glass that smells like lightning. 

So. That's what Lucky is doing one seventh sleep day when the disembodied voice that Clint calls "JARVIS" and Lucky calls "TATTLE-TELL" announces that there's a visitor at the door.

~~~

Lucky bounds of the couch, paws catching Clint in the stomach and waking him immediately. Clint wheezes, but Lucky is too excited because there's a visitor at the door. He loves visitors! He wiggles happily in front of the barrier, wondering if the visitor on the other side will be the man who smells of metal and oil (Clint calls him "Tony) or the man who smells of lightning and pop-tarts ("Thor") or the man who smells of ozone and otherness ("Bruce") or maybe the woman who smells of leather ("Natasha"). 

But it's none of them. 

The visitor on the other side of the door smells of despair and tightly-coiled rage. He smells like that time Clint left for so long that Lucky thought he wasn't ever going to come back and then Lucky would be alone just like before and - 

He doesn't smell good, is what Lucky means. 

And the left side of his body shines in the sunlight like the metal food-holder (Clint calls it a "fridge", which makes no sense whatsoever) and whirrs and clicks menacingly. Lucky sniffs the new visitor carefully, offering a tentative tail wag and whining in distress when the man doesn't even look at him. Clint shushes him and shoos him back to not-Clint and Lucky is hesitant to leave Clint alone with this man who smells so sad, but Clint is insistent and firm. 

Lucky pouts for the rest of the day and forgoes his afternoon nap in favor of chewing not-Clint's slippers. TATTLE-TELL informs not-Clint of Lucky's activities before he's satisfied with the state of the things. 

~~~

The man who smells like despair shows up every now and then. He still doesn't acknowledge Lucky, despite Lucky's best efforts. He offers the man his head for scritches and favorite tennis ball for fetching. He doesn't even try very hard to steal the man's pizza when he stops by during dinner (he only tries to steal the crust, okay?). Out of desperation and a lack of other ideas, he even offers his hippo to the sad man. Squeaking the hippo always makes Lucky feel better, but the man only pushes the hippo onto the floor. 

Lucky is this close to breaking out the big guns (launching himself at the sad man, tackling him to the floor, and licking him all over the face) when a change occurs. The sad man shows up with the man who smells like applie pie and confusion ("Steve") and suddenly he doesn't smell so sad anymore. There's a plethora of pizza that night, all four humans gathered around the light-box on the wall (Clint calls it a "tv") and offering Lucky bits and pieces of cheesy, doughy goodness in exchange for little acts of obedience. Lucky never plans on telling Clint that Clint's the one that got the short end of this straw - Lucky trained this human to give him food in exchange for sitting down for god sakes. He's practically a miracle worker. 

Then Apple-Pie even convinces the sad man to pet Lucky! And then Lucky is being stroked and scratched all over by all four humans! It's fantastic!

Not-sad-man has a nice voice and the metal hand that whirrs and clicks isn't very menacing when it's being used to scratch under Lucky's chin. Lucky would have brought out the big guns if not-sad-man had persisted in his despair, but Apple-Pie makes him smell happy and warm and fuzzy - kind of like Clint smells when he calls not-Clint "Oh Jesus, yes, right there!". 

Apple-Pie and not-sad-man stay long past dinner, talking quietly with Clint and not-Clint. Lucky is warm and full and happy to see his humans being happy, so he wedges himself under Clint's legs and settles in for his second favorite thing - a nap. 

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