The job went well, no one died and nothing noticeable happened- though things behind the scenes were frantic as usual.
The only problem for Clint was engaging the enemy in a fight and having a bullet graze his head.
He woke up in the SHIELD medical wing, strapped to the bed as he'd fought off the nurses while out cold, bandages around his head.
As soon as he woke up, he saw her.
"Tasha. Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Yeah, right here to make sure you don't give the nurses a hard time." she smirked.
Clint rolled his eyes toward the door, noticing a nurse looking in on him, "What? I'm fine."
The nurse nodded and smiled, "Of course, just checking."
"When am I getting out of here?"
"That's up to the doctor, Mr. Barton."
Clint sighed and turned back to Natasha, "I don't suppose you're going to spring me out of here early?"
"Not a chance, that's a nasty head wound, you know you're better off here until they release you."
"Fine..." he pouted.
"Get some sleep, I'll be back."
"Bye, Tasha."
"Bye, Clint."