Clint had always enjoyed cleaning his bow and arrows. There was a melody to it that he effortlessly sank in to. It did mean that he often smelt like bow oil, but there are worse things to smell of.
It was early December, and despite only being late afternoon, the sky had adopted a dark demeanor. The streetlights bathed the sidewalks in a yellow glow, making everything look a little like something out of a Doctor Who Christmas episode- minus the aliens and Time Lords.
The door behind him opened, and Clint didn't even have to look around to know who had entered. He carried on cleaning his equipment in a methodical manner.
"It's freezing out there, I can't stand it." Natasha stamped the snow from her boots and closed the door.
"You're Russian, you should be used to the cold." Clint quipped back to her.
The red head sat on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her and pulling the sleeves of her shirt over her hands.
"You're American, shouldn't you like hotdogs?"
His nose wrinkled at the mention of them. "Okay, you got me there. How was overtime?"
"Shit, but what can I do about it? Fury's the boss, and you can't disobey the boss' orders."
Clint rubbed his oily hands on his jeans, getting up and sitting next to Natasha. Her body naturally leaned into his, her head resting on his shoulder. He could tell she wasn't feeling too good - she was only ever this affectionate when either of them were drugged up or ill.
"I think I'm coming down with something. Maria was off last week with the flu, and a couple of other agents have had it too." She groaned a little.
Clint put his arm around her, rubbing the small of her back.
"Ah, it's time like these where becoming a genetically enhanced super soldier seems like such a good idea."
"Tell me about it. Cap gets it so easy, and I doubt that Thor ever catches a Midgardian cold."
"I'd like to think Banner could get ill. Like, one sneeze and he's already turning green. But I guess he deserves to at least have some enhanced immune system. And I doubt that suit can protect Stark from the flu."
Natasha laughed, turning her face a little more into Clint's neck. It was one of her signature laughs, the one only Clint really knew. He'd always liked those; they were like flashes of her soul; pure and sweet and genuine. She'd spent years building up a wall to shield herself away, and it was in those moments where, in the cracks, she shone through. He'd watched as her walls tumbled down like the walls of Jericho, and he'd watched her rebuild them each time. He loved and respected her for that.
"It's strange to think that we're apart of a group full of superheroes. And proper superheroes. We have a God, an enhanced super soldier, an insanely intelligent scientist with an angry sidekick and a billionaire philanthropist with a flying suit. Then here we are, with our arrows and guns and trusty martial art skills."
Clint bent down to pick up one of his arrows, twirling it around his fingers. "Why should being 100% human with no extra thing or ability make us any less superheroes?"
"You have a point there. I guess it's the media though. They always like to make superheroes seem different and special. Would you say we're superheroes?"
"Us?" He raised his eyebrows and thought about it. They were heroes, whether they wanted to be or not. Super? He wasn't sure about that.
"Well, I guess we are some people's heroes. Others, maybe not so much. I don't mind though. We're spies, not soldiers."
She didn't reply, just tucked her head a little closer to him. Like always, he'd said something so explanatory that she didn't feel the need to elaborate. Her head panged a little, and she absentmindedly raised her hand to her temple. All day she'd had a sore throat and a headache. She may be able to cope with bullet wounds and stab marks, but when it came to the flu she was completely vulnerable.
"I'll make you some tea." Clint brushed her hair away from her face, pressing his lips lightly to her forehead. While the tea boiled, he popped a few aspirin from the pill tray. He picked out her favourite mug -it had cats on it- and filled it with the steaming liquid. Walking back into the living room, he handed the redhead the mug and an aspirin.
"Thank you," She murmured, raising the rim to her perfectly rouged lips. She knocked the tablet back in one.
"Anytime. Want to watch a film?"
She nodded, and suggested Lucy, which he happily put on.
As the opening credits rolled on the screen, Natasha curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her back. She tugged the blanket up to her chin, feeling a chill come over her.
This was a usual position for them. Curled up on the sofa with a film. He could feel her heartbeat through her clothes, noticing the slowing of the beat as she fell asleep.
"Tasha?" He stroked the hair from her face. She stirred a little, but was unresponsive. Lightly, Clint pressed his lips to the top of her head and carried on watching the film.