Clint was having a bad day. Not only had the Avengers been called into duty to face the Slime, but Kate, Kate Bishop, his little prodigy, was moving to California to join the West Coast Avengers – and wanted to take Lucky. He'd obviously said no, so she'd gotten a bit tetchy and kicked him out of his own apartment while she crashed with said dog. He thought at least – his keys had been stolen and he could hear Lucky scratching at the door as he pounded the outside of it. Kate was probably ignoring him out of spite until it was time to leave tomorrow morning, and then she'd take Lucky and get the hell out of dodge.

He banged more on the door, calling for Kate again and again until he heard footsteps finally, heading in the direction of the door. His banging stopped, and so did the footsteps, Lucky's scratching and whining the only audible accessory.

"Katie?" He called for her in a normal voice…which then caused the footsteps to start up again, going in the direction of his kitchen. "Kate, c'mon, gimme a break! Look, I know you want to take Lucky with you to the West Coast, but he's my dog, dammit, not yours…" he heard a muffled sound of annoyance, before the jingling of keys, and hurried footsteps. Clint was set to glare as the door opened, mouth opening-

Only it wasn't Katie. Instead, it was a beautiful young woman holding Lucky back by his collar, a woman he would recognise anywhere – Antonina Stark. And she wasn't wearing a dime.

"…and you aren't Katie," he continued, "And you don't have any clothes on. Hot damn…" his eyes trailed over her form, tracing her rake-thin figure, subtle curves, arc-reactor chest – which caught his attention for a second before he saw the words on her left breast in his infamous scribble, recording his exact dialogue- "Wait a sec, are those-"

"Your words?" She was staring at him, brown eyes wide, a strand of hair falling out of her loose bun, coming to frame her face as she let Lucky go, the dog bounding over to him, Clint petting him and rubbing his head on automatic, even as his gaze didn't leave the celebrity standing in the nude, in his doorway. "Yeah. Funny thing is though, we've met before. Strange we've never spoken before, considering our profession."

Immediately Clint's brow furrowed. "Profession? But you…" his speech failed as his gaze was drawn back to the arc-reactor, luminescent and glowing white-blue in the evening dim. "I know that arc reactor. You're Iron Star."

She swallowed, nodding crisply. "I am." There was a short silence, before Clint stood up, directing Lucky inside. The golden lab panted before scrambling inside, pushing past Antonina's legs, bringing back Clint's attention to the fact that she was stark naked – no pun intended.

"So, why the whole birthday suit thing?"

She glanced down, "Yeah. I'm pretty confident about…all this, and my clothes got soaked after I landed in Alpha Slime. The Mark Thirty-Two is completely inoperable now it's all dried. I stole your keys, I hope you didn't mind. Your place is barely a block away from where I landed, and I had to drag it all the way here. JARVIS has already had to run a virus on the area's internet to get rid of the pictures." She shrugged, seeming unbothered by anything at all – but while Clint couldn't deny it was quite the view, it was winter in New York, and his flat's central heating was crap. She's probably freezing.

Stepping inside, he shut the door, locking it and taking his keys back and putting them in his pocket before hanging up his leather jacket and pulling off his t-shirt, not caring about personal space as he stepped forwards, pulling it over her head. Immediately she wrapped up inside it, seeming tiny inside the purple fabric.

"Thank-you," she kissed him on the lower part of his jaw, not quite tall enough to reach his proper cheek – or even his lips. Clint wanted to correct that, but knew that despite being soulmates, it might not work out.

Of course, that was when she looked at him coyly, hand going to his waistband.

"Want to fuck?"

Clint had a hard time saying no.

Later, when they were lying in bed together, Nina – as she dubbed herself – in another of his shirts and Clint in a pair of boxers, with Lucky lying between their feet, keeping them warm in the chilly apartment, they talked.

"So does this mean you'll come live in Stark Tower now? I've been bugging you and Natasha to come stay for years now."

Clint shrugged, kissing a spot on her bared shoulder as she got up, leaning over him, his shirt a tent on her form. It was a wonder they hadn't realised before that Iron Star was really Nina – who, in their eyes, was their monetary backer and inventor and upkeeper of the Iron Star. The person inside had been a mystery to them all, but now Clint could actually see it. He'd always thought the Iron Star was small in comparison to what it should be, if it was that thick and had a fully grown man inside. Maybe that was his downfall, always assuming things…

Their mouths met, before Nina's hand reached down under his boxers, stroking his length with her nails, causing him to shiver, hardening slowly.

"Menace," he muttered into her lips, before he slipped his boxers off, twisting them both until Nina was beneath him, a moan escaping from her as he sunk inside, grunting at the unexpected tightness, "God, Nina…"

A lazy grin took over her expression, only broken by the occasional hiss of pleasure, "Move in with me and the rest of the boys-"

"Fine, fine, I'll move in – but no promises about convincing Natasha."

Nina pressed a kiss to his lips, moaning in pleasure as he hit her g-spot. "Clint!"

Clint just smiled, forehead against hers. "Nina, Nina, Nina, my Nina…"