Natasha still wasn't used to waking up in Clint's home. The smell of him was, well, everywhere, and intoxicating. She stretched in her grey sheeted double bed. Clint's home was very simple, a little house in the suburbs of New York. Not many people around, no one to disturb the lovebird avengers. She put on a simple v-neck shirt and sweats, knowing that she would be training after breakfast. She strolled down the hallway, stopping to notice a picture in a small frame. I was of a little boy, smiling with crooked front teeth and dimples. Clint Barton, though contrary to popular belief, was not always a shooting machine. But they would never talk about that. "Morning." Clint said as she sat at the table. "Morning" she responded. Breakfast was toast and an egg, simple enough to last her to lunch. Today she was jogging almost all day, a time to think and just enjoy the quiet. "I'm going into New York today, if you might need me." He was such an awkward man when it came to small talk. They had been "sort-of-but-not-really" dating for eight months, living and training together, but they were more like competitors than a couple. "Ok." Natasha responded "I'll be jogging toward Milford for about eight miles then back for lunch, if you need to find me. But I'll have my phone, so, just text." "Great, bye." He grabbed the last piece of toast and walked out the door. "Hey!" She yelled "That was my piece!" "We'll come get it then!" Clint returned playfully. She chased after him, and he held the bread over his head. She fell onto him against their jeep, sloppily kissing him on the lips. He gave her half the bread before putting on his sunglasses and driving off. She watched him from the porch as long as she could see him. See could almost see him smile all the way into New York. Her jog began as usual, listening to some music and jogging at a steady but brisk pace. Then she started really thinking. What would she do if Clint left her? There had never been any well, sex, in their relationship, but more like a playful companionship with free housing. But what if he grew tired of her? Or just was called off on some mission and never came home? That was what gave her nightmares most nights, that he would be killed in some slow, intimate, disgusting way. Like Loki had threatened to cause Clint to inflict on her. Loki. That was the other thing that caused her nightmares. That clint would slip back into that trance, back to that dark place she never wanted to see him in. She was so deep in thought that she didn't even hear the jeep horn behind her. "NATASHA!" Clint was yelling. "Wha- What?" She stuttered yanking out her earbuds. "We have to go. Fury wants the team in France to oversee some S.H.E.I.L.D. Event and we have to hitch a ride with Banner and Rogers in Stark's jet." He spoke quickly as Nat jumped in the jeep. "But we need clothes-" she said. " I was home already. We have enough for the trip. But we're gonna have a lot of free time. What on earth are we gonna do in the city of love together?" Clint said sarcastically. He was smiling mischievously. She knew he already had some ideas. It wasn't long before the couple reached the airport. When they did, clint went to go grab the suitcases from the back-hatch. Then a sudden thought hit Natasha. "Clint!" She yelled over the sounds of the arriving jet. "Wha-" clint looked up at her and slammed his head into the overhanging back hatch. "Ow! What Nat?" "This will be kinda like our first date..." She blushed a little at the thought. "Well then, lady Natasha," he said grabbing her bag, " allow me to get this for you." She reached for his free hand and they walked down the Tarmac. At the top of the jet stairs, where no one was watching, they stole one last kiss. "Shall we see what those frenchies have in store for us?" Clint asked. "We shall." Natasha held his hand again and they boarded the jet.