Natasha slid into the darkened room, silently closing the door behind her. The soft snick of the latch catching sounded very loud in her ears but didn't disturb the sleeper snoring softly under the pile of disordered bedclothes. Light filtering through the window blinds lent just enough visibility for her to pick her way around the heaps of clothing and discarded takeout containers that scattered the floor.
The faint diffused light reflected off the polished surface of a compound bow lying in state on the only clean surface in the room and she smiled, laying her own weapons next to it.
As she reached the bed, she lifted the covers and, with a flick of her wrists, they fell into a semblance of order. The resulting gust of air drew a grunt of complaint from the bed's occupant, and her lips quirked up into an indulgent grin. Folding back the near corner, she slipped between the sheets, sighing contentedly at the warmth within.
Tucking the bedclothes in behind her, she pulled herself in close to the warm muscled body that lay facing away from her, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and sweat. His breathing hitched and he murmured, "Tasha?"
She wrapped an arm around him, and he caught her hand in his strong fingers, pulling it close to his chest. "Clint," she whispered, knowing he wouldn't hear her, though her lips were nearly touching his ear. His hearing aids were somewhere in the jumble on the bedside table.
The brush of her breath against his ear sent a shiver through him, and he sighed as he relaxed back into a deeper sleep. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to relax as well, to sleep.