Then...
Clint Barton was an excellent cook. Steak was his speciality but he could make damn good pancakes. He placed a third perfect pancake on a plate before handing it to her, joining her a few moments later with a matching plate of his own. A pile of bacon sat in the centre of the table and he smiled as he handed her the maple syrup.
Natasha watched him for a moment, drowning her pancakes as he served himself a healthy supply of bacon. "How-"
He shrugged, taking a bite, "I went to the store. You know, your cupboards are basically empty"
She's still watching him, surprised. He isn't wrong though, since Maria has been away she's only really had two things in; coffee, and vodka.
"Natasha" his voice is quiet, a small amused grin on his face as he watches her back.
"You didn't have to do this" she tells him, cutting into the pancake. It smells too good to ignore.
"I know I didn't have to. But- is this okay?" he asks, suddenly realising that maybe she hadn't wanted him to be here when she woke up, never mind having restocked her kitchen and made her breakfast. "I can go-" Clint begins to say, but Natasha shakes her head. "Don't go"
This is new. It's different. But it doesn't mean it's bad...
She's never had a relationship before. It's always been distant. Emotionless. Watching him as he offers her the plate of perfectly crisp bacon, Natasha realises maybe this time it could be more.
Once their plates are empty and the sink is full, Natasha bushes past him, gently squeezing his hand and giving him a look. He watches as she beings to walk away. "Where are you going?" he asks, trying to hide the confusion in his voice.
Natasha glanced back at him over her shoulder, a coy smirk on her face as she pulled off her pyjama shirt.
"To shower" she answered, grinning at little at the open mouthed look on his face. When she reached the bathroom door, she called back, "are you coming?"
Clint didn't need asking twice...