Sam got up late.
He wasn't worried about it. He should stock up on naps while he could. With Barnes dropping into their laps, as soon as people figured out where the ex-assassin was holed up, they were all in for a lot of late nights.
Showered and dressed, desperate for coffee and whatever he could dig up for breakfast, Sam went to the kitchen and found Clint there, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
Knowing the man, even as little as he did, Sam knew it wasn't Clint's first cup of the day. Hell, probably not even his tenth.