First Paragraph inspired by a tumblr post. The rest of it was written over Omegle
Clint rolled over, trying to get comfortable in his bed, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't manage it. Sighing, he rolled out of bed and started down into the kitchen. The archer was surprised to find a member of his team also out of bed, fixing something on the counter. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?" he asked, hopping onto the counter. "'S getting really annoying. Coulson said he'd suspend me if I didn't get at least six hours of sleep tonight."
Natasha ran her hand through her hair slightly as she began to make herself a cup of tea, being unable to rest at night from the fact that she would turn far too much for her own liking. She glanced up at the figure who entered before shrugging. "You know me," She sighed before rolling her eyes. "You don't want to get suspended, Coulson will literally kick your ass about that."
"We both know neither of us would survive being locked up in here for a week." Clint turned on the coffee machine next to him on the counter. "Too boring."
"Exactly and I'd rather not go out onto the field without my partner by my side," She replied to him before swatting his leg lightly. "You know how to sit in the way, don't you?"
"I try to be as obnoxious as possible. It's part of my charm." He joked, pulling both his legs on the table and crossing them. "And is it just me or is Fury not as demanding as he used to be? I haven't had a target that needed more than a few days of surveillance since before the Loki Incident."
"You're very obnoxious and I'm going to throw you off the counter if you annoy me," She warned him half-heartedly, her eyes flickering up to him again. "It's not just you, I haven;t been sent on as many undercover missions as before. It's just not natural."
"Maybe that Starwhale thing ate all the bad guys while we weren't looking." Clint fake-pondered over the thought about the creatures coming out of the portal during the battle.
"Not likely, that thing was far too busy trying to eat us instead," She pointed out to him before taking a seat at the table, fingers drumming lightly on the mug in her hands.
"You ruin my dreams of running away with the Doctor."
"Why would you have dreams of running away with the Doctor anyway?" She questioned.
"You don't want to see all of time and space? I would go and see one of Cap's old shows from the 40s. See the original Star Spangled Man with a Plan." Clint laughed at the thought.
"Do you remember what happens to the companions at the end? Something always happens, though I would have loved to see one of those shows," She nodded in agreement.
"Nothing too horrible has happened to River yet." He saw the doubtful look on Natasha's face. "Don't even bring up the Ponds. That was sad."
"Don't you remember Silence in the Library with David Tennant?" She questioned him, arching an eyebrow. "I know, I watched you almost break down at it."
"Don't even get me thinking about that again. What happens in the Level 7 lounge. Stays in the Level 7 lounge." Clint recalled the memory of him watching the fateful episode and indeed, almost breaking down.
"I don't know, it could be good blackmail material," She replied in amusement before she hopped herself onto the table, swinging her legs as she sipped on her tea. "You make it sound like you shagged someone in there, anyway."
"I am not even going to respond." He looked down into his coffee, grabbing sugar and pouring a ridiculous amount into it.
"Oh, is there something you're not telling me, Clint?" She teased him before her eyebrow arched up. "That looks horribly sweet."
"You know I put sugar in and/or on everything. Healthy and nutritional my ass. SHIELD cooks are trying to slowly poison us. Sugar is the only cure."
"I know, but even that much in coffee must be horrible. Fine, you know the food isn't that bad. Don't blame me when you start putting on weight," She teased.
"Yes, because my binge eating is becoming a real problem." Clint replied sarcastically. Anyone who has ever met him knows he barely eats at all some days. Even on a good day he won't have the calories he needs.
"You're stupid with your food, sometimes when you don't eat I want to shove the highest calorie thing I can find down your throat." She grumbled.
"Can you make sure it's cookie dough? I love cookie dough." He mockingly licked his lips.
"Fine, I'll make it cookie dough," She rolled her eyes at him before placing her mug down. "As long as you eat it."
"Great. Now I want some." Clint hopped off the counter and starting looking around the kitchen for the basic things one needed to make cookie dough.
"Then you know where the stuff is, get to it," She said with an arch of her eyebrow at the archer.
"Oh I will." He said mischievously with a bucket of flower in his arms. He starting getting awfully close to the woman still sitting on the counter.
Natasha watched him before she narrowed her eyes slightly. "I'd think carefully about your next moves with that flour," She warned him.
"Oh, am I making you nervous Romanoff?" He teased, putting a hand into the bucket.
"No, I'm just wondering if you like having the feeling in your arms. Because, you might lose it."
Clint smiled fully as he quickly threw a puff of flour towards his partner. Coating her face and bits of her hair in the light powder.
Natasha froze, wiping the flour away from her face. "You're a dick," She said before jumping off the table, blowing some into his face in return.
Wiping the incoming attack out of his eyes, Clint practically threw the bucket on the table, spilling some, and dove behind the counter.
She groaned out, brushing away some of the flour that had landed on her before she took a handful. "Get your ass back here, Barton," She said, planning on following him.
His head popped up over the surface. "Never!" He shouted before ducking back to cover.
"Then I'm coming in," She decided, kneeling in the counter in order to drop it on him from above.
"Shit!" He yelled as the flour covered most of the archer's body. "OK, OK! I give! You win!" He held up his hands and surrendered when he saw that Natasha had two more handfuls, ready to strike again,
Natasha smirked in triumph before she sat cross legged on the counter, still holding onto the handfuls. "That's what I wanted to hear," She said before placing them down.
Clint got up from his crouched position on the floor. Looking down he saw the mess of flour all over the floor and the counter. "Oh, Nat. Look what you did."
She looked at him in disbelief before her arms folded. "Excuse me? Who's the one that threw the bucket in the first place?"
"Still, you need a victory hug." Clint stretched out his arms and leaned into her, getting flour all over the very hesitant female assassin.
Natasha groaned out, her arms pressed against her side before she swatted at his chest. "You are an arse, Clint Barton."
"Yeah, but I'm your arse." He smirked as she flicked some more flour into his face.
"No thanks, I prefer my own arse," She winked at him playfully, tapping the tip of his nose.
"So do I." He mirrored her expression.
Natasha rolled her eyes at him. "Typical men answer."
"You were asking for that one." Clint shrugged.
"I didn't really expect you to comment on my arse."
"It deserves a good compliment. An arse needs encouragement. I was building its self esteem."
"I don't think it really needs self esteem," She rolled her eyes playfully. "But thanks."
"You are very welcome." He laughed. "We just had a food fight at three in the morning."
"A food fight and then you compliment my arse, can this morning get any more weird?"
"The TARDIS could show up."
"I don't think the Doctor's going to show up."
"Neither did Amy. And look what happened to her." Clint paused as he realized what he just said. "Before The Angles Take Manhattan."
"She got very old in one episode," She reminded him, arching an eyebrow. "And she almost got divorced."
"That was he Doctor's fault for making her wait all those years. But she did get to save a whale in space. Whales make everything better."
"I preferred Donna, She didn't take any of the Doctor's shit," She replied.
"Donna was a sassy companion."
"Exactly, but Amy was a better ginger."
"I didn't think you cared so much Nat. When I introduced you to this show you said it was 'stupid and impossible'"
"It grows on you when your partner forces you to watch it with him every saturday."
Clint shrugged.
"And Supernatural every Wednesday."
"I'm behind on those." Clint eyed her expectantly before pulling her into the other room.
The team found the two that morning wrapped up in each other on the living room couch.
No one said anything about them and the kitchen being covered in flour. No one wanted to interrupt the two being a normal couple for once.
Even if this was their version of normal.