The elevator stopped on the eighth floor and they raced each other down the hallway to his apartment. Clint reached out as Natasha pulled slightly ahead of him, grabbing her waist and setting her aside.

"No fair!" she shouted, but she was laughing as she jumped up on his back, and God, he missed this.

"I guess it's a tie," he said, chuckling as he opened the door and stepped inside.

She jumped down, entering his space when he gestured for her to go ahead, her eyes sweeping over every detail again, a reflex she knew would keep happening until she'd been here enough times that she would sense when something was out of sorts.

Clint tossed his jacket onto the coat stand behind the door, leaving him in a sleeveless shirt that exposed his tattoo that spanned from left shoulder to just above his wrist.

Her eyes swept over him, a reflex she knew would keep happening until she'd had a chance to inspect it thoroughly enough that his skin would once again be as recognizable to her as her own.

"Make yourself comfortable," he said, motioning towards the couch as he grabbed the remote and pointed it at the flat screen tv before flopping down in the center himself. He quirked an eyebrow at her hesitation.

"I don't know how to do this," she said.

"You start by sitting down," he said, patting the space next to him.

She slowly sank down, leaning back as he leaned up to flick the switch on the lamp beside them to the off position. "I mean this," she whispered.

"I know," he whispered back. He held his arm out, draping it across the back of the couch. "Just relax," he added gently.

She leaned closer, running her hand down the length of his shoulder and bicep over the tattoo before easing into the crook of his arm. Her fingertips lightly pressed his forearm once she got settled, her palm skimming over his skin, trying to memorize the plane of each foreign shape pressed in permanent ink on her best friend's body.

"Weird, huh?" He murmured, lightly trailing his own hand down her arm through her sweatshirt. "Just think of it as another scar."

She didn't need him to explain, but she also understood that somehow it helped him to say it out loud. Her instincts kicked in and she burrowed into him, wanting to use her proximity to soothe him.

He drew her closer and wrapped his other arm around her, wrapping her up in his chest.

She squirmed slightly.

"Like always," he whispered into her ear.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Do I smell like-?"

"Death?" He finished. "No, sweetheart. You smell absolutely perfect. Sweet, and smart, and brave, and dangerous, and sexy, and very much alive."

She raised her hand up to his face, running her fingers through his overgrown Mohawk, letting her thumb glide over the scratchy patches at the side.

He took her wrist in his hand, turning it over and placing a kiss over her pulse point. "Very much alive," he whispered as he felt her pulse rate increase slightly at the intimate touch.

"Clint," she breathed. "I just want to feel something again. Feel like I'm alive again."

"C'mere," he murmured, slouching down and readjusting his hold on her. He slipped his hand under her sweatshirt and pulled up her tank, rubbing soothing circles on her bare back in a gesture that had calmed her on many a difficult night.

"Mmmmm." She rested her head on his chest and snuggled into him, closing her eyes as his fingers sent tingles all over her skin.

"You feel that?" He whispered.

"Mmmm- hmmm."

"Just like always, Nat," he said. "You know how to do this."

"Like always," she repeated.

He kept up the slow motion, leaning his head back as he felt her body start to relax.

"I might fall asleep," she warned.

"Okay," he said.

"That kind of ruins the whole movie thing."

He blinked against the glow of the tv, suddenly remembering. "Did you want me to put one on, just in case?"

"Not if it involves us moving," she mumbled.

"Go to sleep," he whispered into her hair. "I'll take you back to the tower in the morning."

"I should probably check on my apartment at some point." She wrinkled her nose. "Unless you think someone's already living in it?"

"No one else is living in your apartment," he told her.

"How do you know?"

He shrugged. "Because I know."

"You've been there." It wasn't a question. She tilted her head up to look at him.

"Yeah," he admitted.

"You really never gave up on me."

"Never." He wrapped his arms tighter around her.

She smiled. "Maybe we should put that movie on after all."

"Okay. Something funny, right?" He leaned forward, shuffling through some dvds on the coffee table.

"Nutty Professor?" He asked, holding one up. "Cooper left it here."

"Sure," she said with a shrug. He moved to pop it in the dvd player, and she pulled her feet up under her while she waited for him to return.

"You want some snacks?" He asked. "Anything to drink? I got beer."

She wrapped her arms around herself, burrowing into the hoodie as she watched the commercials while he went into the kitchen.

"Here." He returned a moment later, setting everything on the table and pausing to unfold a blanket from the arm of the couch before taking his place next to her.

She sat back as he wrapped the blanket around her, watched as he leaned forward to twist the caps off two beer bottles, studying the way his muscles rippled and the tattoo under his skin moved with him.

"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he handed her a beer.

She shook her head.

He glanced down at the ink on his arm. "Is it that strange?"

"No. It's actually kind of sexy."

He gave a slight laugh, his lips pulling together into a smirk. "Sexy, huh?"

"Oh, stop. You said I was sexy first."

"I did?" He scratched the back of his neck, a telltale sign that he was nervous. "When 'id I say that?"

"Earlier when you smelled my hair."

"Oh, right." He clinked his bottle to hers as he reclaimed his spot on the couch. "Well, your hair does look like fire. That's hot." He winked.

She giggled, shaking her head and taking a swig from the bottle. This banter was easy too.

He pressed the button on the remote to start the movie and she swung her legs over his.

He shifted his position, wrapped an arm around her back, the other around her legs, and she was practically in his lap as he held her close.

She draped half of the blanket over him, leaned her head down to rest on his shoulder.

"Comfortable?" he murmured, tilting his head down.

She nodded.

He seemed satisfied with her answer, trailing his hand down her arm under the blanket.

"Hey, Clint?"

"Hmmm?"

"When do you think the compound's going to be finished?"

"Pepper says middle of the next year."

"All of it?" She asked in surprise. "Every building, even the main complex?"

He patted her legs absently. "I'll take you over there this week so you can see. It's a huge project. I totally believe they'll have it done."

The corner of one side of her mouth tugged up into a half smile. "Leave it to Stark to make a bold statement, even after he's gone."

She looked up at him. "Do you think you'll still stay retired?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. There's bound to be more Avengers level threats." He nudged his shoulder into hers. "How about you?"

"I don't know. The world is in some pretty great hands with the new generation."

"Yeah," he agreed. "It is."

"But it could be fun. Us working together again?"

"Yeah." He placed a hand over hers. "That would be pretty awesome."

She shrugged, taking another sip from the bottle she was still clutching. "I guess I never really knew how to retire anyway."

"Nat, you know, you can do anything you want. It doesn't necessarily have to be active combat if you want to be done."

"What do you want?"

"I don't know." He smoothed her hair back with his hand, twisted some strands around his fingers. "I got what I really wanted. Guess I didn't think too much past that."

"Do you think Laura would be mad if you went back?"

"I think I'll have to worry about that when the time comes."

She leaned her head against his shoulder again. "It's kind of scary, you know? Not knowing what's going to happen next."

"I know. But, you have all the time in the world now to figure it out, Tasha."

She smiled softly, stretched her head up to kiss his cheek without moving from his shoulder.

He smiled back, brushed his hand through her hair again and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Hey, did you call Yelena yet?"

"No. I should do that soon, though."

"Yeah, you really should."

"She'll want to come here."

"Maybe."

"It's a lot right now," she told him. "All the attention. I'm not used to it."

He grinned. "That's why we're hiding out here."

She grinned back. "I love you."

He kissed her forehead. "Love you too."

She leaned up, kissed his chin.

He put his mouth to the side of her head, lips smacking loudly.

She kissed his lips.

He smiled softly, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her back.

She pressed her lips to his again and they kissed back and forth, lips puckering in quick smooches.

"Nat?" He asked when he felt her hesitate. "You feeling okay?"

"It's not just like always, Clint," she whispered.