Chapter 32: Little to No Recognition

October 7

Howlett Manor

The next morning was rough when Clint woke up tied down and tried everything in his repertoire of tricks to get out of it, wide-eyed and clearly panicked — moreso when Bobbi told him to calm down. Since they knew about the self-destruct, the fact of the matter was that Clint was too well tied down to try anything at all, so all he could do was panic, and it had Bobbi and Natasha mad all over again as they watched it happen.

It was just the first session, so all Bobbi could do at that point was just work on trying to get Clint past the commands he was clearly trying to follow. If he couldn't run or end his own life, then, she reasoned, he should listen to her. And that much was half true, though the more accurate description would be that he was watching her and waiting for something else to happen, clearly not expecting her to spend the time to just talk to him and tell him where he was and what had happened to get him there.

Clint was clearly terrified as he watched Bobbi, and although Bobbi had the foresight to turn the machines in Hank's lab down, Natasha could see the spike in his heart rate and clenched her teeth and fists together before she just had to take a walk. She couldn't sit there like Bobbi could, not when she felt useless.

She somehow wound up at the ballroom that Logan had converted into a training hall and paused when she could hear someone in there. When she poked her head in to see that it was Logan working, she let herself in and found a good spot to get warmed up. Logan had the right idea — finding something to hit — and it wasn't long before she was working up a good rhythm as well.

Sometimes, it was just good to find a bag and hit it really hard.

It took a while, but Logan had been working his heavy bag over hard for a while before Natasha showed up, so when he ran out of steam, he ran out. He kicked the bag hard once for good measure and took a few steps away from it, hands on his knees and bent over as he took in long, deep breaths and then picked a spot in the middle of a mat and laid down.

When Natasha ran out of steam — faster than he had because she was more upset than angry — she made her way over to him and prodded him with the tip of her toe before she sat down with two water bottles, one of which she handed to him wordlessly.

He took it but simply looked at it for a moment before he set it down next to him. "Not what I was hoping for."

"The vodka's upstairs, and I'm too tired to get it now. Give me a little time," Natasha said.

"Not really what I wanted either," he admitted.

"Well then, you'll just have to settle for one or the other," Natasha said as she leaned back on the mat.

"I skipped out on breakfast. You wanna join me?" He picked up his head and looked her up and down. "After the water."

She smirked slightly his way. "Sure. I don't have anywhere else to be right now anyway."

Logan nodded and laid back to give her a chance to catch up. "Where do you wanna be?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted, still not moving as she took a long and deep breath. "I should be with Clint."

"Right. One step at a time, eh?" he said as he sat up. "Let's grab a bite. Then you can be where you need to be."

She nodded and got to her feet, offering him a hand up. "I just needed to take a little time to be selfish. I'll be fine," she told him as she dusted her hands off.

"You're not done yet," he told her as he offered her his arm.

When she took the offered arm, she looked almost annoyed with herself. "I just can't wrap my head around him being that scared," she admitted in a low tone and a rush of breath.

"It's pretty damn deeply ingrained," he muttered back.

"I know, and I've seen it," Natasha said. "But in other people. It's irrational, but he's always been braver than me, if that makes sense."

Logan nodded, not arguing with her in the least as they headed down the hall. When they got to the kitchen, Mrs. O'Malley was nowhere to be seen — but it didn't slow Logan down from starting up something himself for the two of them. "Wanna start the coffee?" he asked, not turning her way.

She did just that, moving wordlessly and automatically. "This is what happens when we miss breakfast," she said with a small smirk. "Kate takes all the coffee."

"No kidding," he replied in a flat tone. "I had no idea."

Natasha rolled her eyes but leaned against the counter as she watched him throwing together some food. "I meant to say ... thanks for helping me get him back," she said after a long moment.

"Haven't got him back yet," Logan said, still keeping to the task at hand. "But you will."

"Of course we will," she agreed. "I just meant getting him away from Norman Osborn and Whitehall." She narrowed her eyes at the thought. "I'm just glad they don't have him anymore."

Logan nodded, unsure of what he could say to her to help her out. "Were you in the room when they brought me back?"

She paused. "Yes," she said. "Not necessarily the very first time you woke up, but… yes."

"Is he that far gone?"

Natasha paused again. "No. But… it's different."

"How?"

"I could still recognize you," Natasha said. "With this… I don't think they let him think for himself."

"You'll get him out of it."

"If I have to sit in that room every day for a year," she agreed.

"I doubt he's as deep as I was. You'll get him back sooner," Logan said as he handed her a plate full of eggs.

"It certainly helps that Viper's dead and buried," Natasha said before she paused and tipped her head Logan's way. "You weren't there to meet up with the others," she said slowly, "but Wade had himself wrapped around Clint to keep him from cutting open his own throat. Right now, he can't even move."

"Yeah, I remember going through that part," Logan said.

"At least with you it was your own stupid, illogical choice," she muttered darkly. "Which I still have not forgiven you for."

"It was me, Scott, and Quill," Logan said. "There was no choice."

"And the part where you asked Mac to kill you rather than face coming back from brainwashing…" She trailed off and shook her head.

"Wasn't just that," Logan told her quietly.

She waved her hand at him. "Oh, I know the reasons. I agree with some of them. But there are very few people on this earth that I trust, and you were going to take one of them from me. That I cannot forgive."

"Then I guess you can just add that to my list."

She pushed a mug of coffee his way. "What, the fact that I trust you with my partner's life?"

"No. Another disappointment. I seem to be pretty damn good at that."

She rolled her eyes as she filled her own coffee mug and then rested her head on his shoulder as she sat next to him.

The two of them picked at their breakfast for a good long while, and when they were done, Logan got up and pulled out a new coffee cup and filled it up. "Come on. Time you go see your partner."

She eyed the coffee for a moment. "I told you: he's tied down."

"Yeah, well, grab a straw," Logan said. "You know his brain isn't going to work until he gets some coffee anyhow."

She couldn't help but smirk at that. "True," she admitted as she plucked the coffee from his hands and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. "Spasibo."

"Yeah, yeah, come on," Logan grumbled.

When the two of them got there, Bobbi was quietly talking with a still-panicked Clint, though when she saw Logan, Bobbi paused, just for a second, to see if he was alright with her in the room.

Logan gave her a bit of a look, but he held the door for Natasha, closing it behind her and then waving Bobbi over. "Give 'em a few minutes."

"Your idea?" Bobbi asked with a little smirk.

"C'mon, I'm not that smart."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't sell yourself short. I know for a fact it was your idea - she's not in a place that she can think to do something like bring coffee."

Logan gave her a dry look and handed her his cup. "If you say so."

"Don't worry; I won't tell anyone your well-hidden secret that you're intelligent," she said as she took a sip of the coffee. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Sounds like a rumor about unicorns."

"Sure thing, Logan."

While Bobbi and Logan were chatting, Natasha made herself comfortable in the seat next to Clint, watching his reactions carefully as she did so. She wasn't sure if it was a relief or not that the look of open terror was gone, because the look that had replaced it was hard to read, almost like he was studying her and completely unsure of what to do with her — and there was very little recognition there, either.

"I brought coffee," she said, and when the response was just a slight head tilt, she figured it was safe to let him have some of it.

The two of them were studying each other the entire time, completely silent as Natasha tried to think of what to do next. She had been on the receiving end of Charles' deprogramming, but for some reason, her memory of how it had come to pass had flown out the window when faced with Clint in the same position.

Finally, she asked, "Do you know where you are?"

Clint watched her carefully before he gave her a little nod.

"Do you know how you got here?"

Another little nod.

"And do you know who I am?"

Clint paused, and Natasha almost held her breath for it. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head before he leaned back, not giving her an answer either way. But on the other hand, he seemed to be more relaxed than she'd seen him all day — still tense, but not panicked, not terrified, so that was something.

Natasha thought for a long while about what to say next, how to reintroduce herself. Or if she even needed to. It might have been the case that Osborn had different orders for different people and they hadn't yet figured that out. But he seemed to know everything else… And if she did reintroduce herself, she found she wasn't sure what descriptor to give him. Partner, maybe.

She was still thinking it over when Logan and Bobbi poked in, and when they did, Clint went right back to halfway holding his breath, his gaze raking right over Natasha to land on the two newcomers, who he clearly considered more of a threat.

Before they could step in all the way though, Natasha met Logan's gaze and shook her head quickly. He put his arm out to stop Bobbi and gently pulled her out of the room with a quiet, "Let her handle it."

Bobbi had her lips pursed as she thought it over when the door closed. "It should be the other way around," she said thoughtfully. "Osborn knew they were together; they were draped over each other in public appearances. He'd use that."

"Let it go for now and just let her do her thing."

"Right, I will; I'm just saying it's something we'll have to address," she said. "And it doesn't fit the expected pattern."

"Don't overthink it, Mockingbird."

"Hey, I'd be more than happy if it's as simple as 'he likes her' and that's that, but I don't actually get paid to be an optimist," Bobbi said.

"Pretty sure you're not getting paid right now anyhow," Logan deadpanned.

"I'll bill SHIELD for services rendered."

"Leave 'em alone for a while," Logan suggested. "He's not getting up, and even if he did, she could hand him his ass in a New York minute."

"That's true," Bobbi said with a smirk as she leaned back to finish off the coffee Logan had brought. "That's half of why he likes her."

"Yeah. That's it," he said, shaking his head. "More coffee in the kitchen."

She smirked and nodded, headed out. "If she comes out, stick with him while I'm gone, would you? He doesn't need to be alone while we're still scrubbing the self-destruct."

"Is that the official way to deal with it?" Logan asked.

"That and Hank has him set up for sedation through the nights so he's getting sleep — and the rest of us are too."

Logan nodded again. "Fine. I'll be here. Ready to scare the cripes outta him if she's gonna leave for a minute."

"He's reacting that way to everyone but her. Don't take it personally," Bobbi advised. "Even Charles got that reaction."

"I'm actually used to people being freaked out, so that's fine."

"Right." She shouldered out the door. "I'll be back before Hank comes in to check on him. He's making it a point to be sure he eats too, even if it's via a feeding tube."

Logan shook his head at that. "Just have Tasha bring it in. Don't force him."

"Well, I didn't know Tasha could get him to eat," Bobbi said. "I'll tell Hank, but I'm just telling you what the system was."

"And I'm telling you the system sucks."

"It's the best we could do, considering he was refusing water this morning."

"Bobbi. Don't force him."

"I'm not going to let him starve himself to death either," she pointed out. "Which is what he's trying to do — or has been until Natasha came in."

"I get that. But you're missing the point … just …" He waved her off. "Nevermind."

She tipped her head his way for a moment and looked like she might question him on it before she let out a sigh and left Logan to wait.

He wasn't surprised, though, when Natasha was still in there when Hank arrived, and the good doctor raised both eyebrows when he poked his head into the room and saw Natasha gently talking with Clint about some place in District Two where they had trained as kids.

Hank pulled his head back out and then turned Logan's way. "Perhaps we should set her up with a bed in there," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"It'd make it easier on her," Logan agreed. "She got him drinking some coffee earlier."

"Really?" Hank looked both fascinated and relieved to hear it. "I wonder if she could get him to manage something a bit more solid. He fought with Bobbi and myself all morning."

"I'm sure she can," Logan replied. "And don't force him. Just don't."

"It's a moot argument with our widow in there anyway," Hank pointed out. "I'm glad to see she's staying."

"Yeah. But I'm just sayin' … the force isn't any different than the freakin' process to begin with. Don't."

Hank paused and turned Logan's way before he rested a hand on his shoulder. "Alright then, we won't try that unless it's absolutely necessary. We'll simply allow Miss Romanoff to work her magic."

Logan nodded once and took a step back. "You here to stay for a little bit then?"

"For as long as I'm needed, yes," Hank said.

"Then I'll leave you three alone," Logan replied, already walking backward down the hall until he caught Hank walking closer to watch Natasha work. He'd had more than enough for one day, and it was pretty clear that, outside of making sure that Clint wasn't strong-armed, he wasn't really needed.

October 8

Howlett Manor

It was early enough that no one was in the kitchen when Logan made his way down — no one but Natasha, who didn't look like she had slept much and was making a pot of coffee, probably to bring to Clint that morning. She looked up when he came in and muttered a little 'hello' before she went back to what she was doing, her hair tied back in a ponytail and — though she hadn't realized it yet — the sweatshirt she'd worn to bed threatening to fall off her shoulder.

"He doesn't like to eat anything until well after coffee," she explained. "Hank spoke with Mrs. O'Malley about possibly just… having something set aside for him that I can offer."

"She'll be happy to hold something for him — or even make it fresh. She likes him," Logan said with a nod.

"Everyone likes him," Natasha said with a little smirk. "He just has that effect."

"Biased."

"Maybe," she allowed. She sat down in the nearest seat as she waited for the coffee to finish brewing and pulled her hoodie absently back over her shoulder. "We had a bit of a late night."

"I really don't want to hear about your make out therapy."

She gave him a dry look. "No, he just wouldn't calm down enough to go to sleep," she explained.

"Maybe he needed the make out therapy."

"It would be like kissing a stranger," Natasha said with a heavy sigh. "I don't think he knows who I am, not really."

"He knows who you are," Logan said with a look.

"That's not what he says when I ask," she replied. "He'll nod if I ask about anyone else, but with me, it's like he can't figure out what he's supposed to say."

"Yeah? Want me to ask for you? I can pass him a note if that's what you need done."

"I doubt he'd answer you; he won't even nod for Bobbi," she said. "It's still early; we've only been at this for a day."

"What do you think his problem is?" Logan asked as he got up and got himself a cup of coffee before the pot was done brewing.

"I have two theories," Natasha said. She pushed a few stray strands out of her face. "The first is that he just tried to keep from having to fight me by mentally reclassifying me somehow."

"That sounds a little advanced for him," Logan deadpanned over his mug.

"He's smarter than you think he is," Natasha said with a sharpness to her tone.

"No, I mean he's not the type to reclassify you."

Natasha pulled back her glare slightly and let out a breath. "True. And he's not exactly the best at hiding his emotions or his thoughts," she said. "The other possibility — and this is more likely — is that he just doesn't see me as… existing. He probably thought I was killed when he was taken. So I wouldn't fall into a threat category."

Logan just watched her for a moment but didn't comment on it for a long while. "That … sounds more likely. Especially considering that Osborn had told Parker that Kurt and I were dead. The mental trauma might have been enough to give him a foothold to make the stupid program work quicker."

Natasha nodded. "Bobbi said something to that effect — that Whitehall does better with broken minds."

"His method takes trauma to make it work," Logan said flatly, staring into his coffee.

"Then we're lucky it backfired on him," Natasha said. "At least in this case. The trauma wasn't real, so now Clint has… what would you call me then, a ghost?" She tried to give him a little smirk. "Osborn's own cruelty come to bite him?"

"Somethin' like that."

Natasha nodded and got to her feet when she heard the beep of the coffeemaker finishing up. "At any rate, at least it's enough to let me help him. He'll eat, even respond to me — and we'll try reintroducing others in the room with me as well. But like I said…" She gave him a wan, tired look. "It would be like kissing a stranger. He doesn't know me. Or, at least, he doesn't understand me."

"I'll go with you," Logan decided, picking up his mug. "Might as well tell him how it is right now."

She glanced up at him as she finished pouring two mugs for herself and Clint. "Are you sure? If he figures out I should be a threat, that could put us right back where we were."

"If he thinks you're a threat, I'll get him to see sense. Just … roll with it." Logan gave her a little smirk and held the door open for her. "But he's not going to think you're dead when we walk out."

"Well, that's a step in the right direction — I think," Natasha said, carrying her two mugs of coffee down to where Clint was in the lab. It was early enough that he was still coming out of the sedative Hank had given him to get him to sleep, though when the smell of coffee came in, he seemed to wake up a little more, pay better attention. He tipped his head toward Natasha for a moment, but when he saw Logan come in, his attention went from her to Logan in a heartbeat, and Natasha had to sigh when she saw the same wide-eyed terror he'd been giving Bobbi before.

Logan took a seat on one of the high stools near the counter in Hank's lab. "Barton. There is something majorly wrong with you if you're watching me and not the pretty redhead." He shook his head to himself and just started on his coffee.

Clint didn't take his gaze from Logan, though, even as Natasha settled herself into what was now her usual spot. "Coffee," she told him, trying to draw him back to her. "Come on, Clint. He's just here to observe."

Logan turned partway from the couple and started chatting quietly with Hank. He was sure to leave himself open for Clint to be able to read both of their lips as they spoke — about nothing but the goings on in the house, Skye and Kate's shenanigans in particular.

It took a moment or nine, but Clint finally seemed to decide that Logan wasn't an imminent danger, and while he still kept half an eye on Hank and Logan, Natasha was able to get his attention partway back, drinking coffee with him for a while and occasionally reassuring him that Logan wasn't there to do anything. It was a little more difficult to get him to take any coffee when he kept glancing Logan's way, but by half an hour in, Natasha had two empty mugs and was already annoyed with how edgy Clint was, refusing to do more than glance her way when she tried to engage with him as he kept an eye on Logan.

"You ready for another cup, sweetheart?" Logan called out their way.

Natasha glanced up at Logan with a raised eyebrow but nodded all the same. "I'm sure we could both use a little more coffee," she said.

Logan walked over to steal the fresh pot Hank had brewed and brought it over to the two of them, topping off their mugs before he headed back to do the same with his own and put the pot back. "I know everyone tells you to shut up, but … you should talk to your girl, Barton. She's gonna get a complex."

Clint watched Logan all the way through putting the coffee pot back, frowning hard and going from a wide-eyed terror to more narrowed-eye suspicion — which Natasha wasn't sure was an improvement.

"Clint," Natasha said, tapping on his shoulder. Clint jumped slightly and then turned her way with a little frown. With a furtive glance Logan's way that seemed to say watch, Natasha tipped her head Clint's way and asked, "Do you remember me?"

Clint nodded.

"Do you know who I am?"

But that, as always, just got a little stare, and Natasha looked Logan's way with an expression that clearly said, See?

Logan let out a sigh and set his mug down. "Are you kidding me?" He asked, frowning at Clint. "You nearly shot me for kickin' her trash around. Come on, Barton. Get it together. You can't go from deaf to mute. That's just … stupid."

Clint gave Logan his full attention and a deep glare, chin thrust out — though it lasted for only a second before he seemed to realize he was doing it, and then he stopped and shook his head lightly.

"Well he's doing a good Clint impersonation," Logan muttered before he let out a sigh and signed to him. What can I do?

Clint stared at Logan's hands for a long time before he very slowly signed back — spelling out what he couldn't do with one hand since he was tightly pinned down. Don't know.

You're in my house. Talk.

Clint shook his head. No. I know. No.

Talk to her. Logan replied, frowning hard at him.

Clint glanced over at Natasha, who was watching the whole conversation carefully. You can sign, she offered, and he just seemed to watch her that much more intently.

"Clint," Logan said, catching his attention. What's the problem with her?

Trick, Clint signed carefully.

Logan looked outright irritated. You don't think that's her?

I don't know. No. Clint glanced to Nat and then back to Logan. I don't think so.

It's her.

She died.

Only once. She got over it.

Natasha let out a little breath of a laugh at Logan's response, and Clint glanced her way with a healthy amount of suspicion. "Clara picked me up outside of Fisk's offices in One, and the team got me home in … relatively one piece," she explained. "I borrowed one of your stupid arrows and jumped out a window."

Clint stared at her. No. You didn't.

"I did, and I swear to you, Barton, I wound up in a dumpster, and I blame you."

"It's true." Logan was nodding along with her as he very slowly made his way a few steps closer. "Took four showers just to get the stink of dumpster failure off of 'er."

Clint was watching Logan's every step and half holding his breath, but he spelled out Nat before he signed, The arrows are busted I guess so that she knew it was directed her way, though he was watching Logan like he was worried the guy would do something to him.

"The hell does that mean?" Logan asked, frowning.

Clint watched Logan. Dumpster arrows, he signed, glancing Natasha's way for only a second before he went back to watching Logan, seeming to let out a breath when Logan didn't respond to the sign more than just to tip his head to the side.

"What do I gotta do to get you to talk?" Logan asked. "You want proof it's her?"

Clint glanced at Nat and shook his head. No.

"So you believe him?" Natasha asked, and when Clint knocked 'yes', she couldn't help the little smile.

"Well good," Logan said, heading back to his mug. "Because I thought I was gonna have to kiss you just to get a rise out of him."

"Skye would ask for the footage," Natasha said with a smirk.

"You mean unless she's found a way to wire the room already?" Logan asked.

"Good point," Natasha chuckled, leaning back in her seat as she took a long sip of coffee.

"No one is going to get mad at you for talkin'," Logan said to Clint. "If they do, tell me and I'll kick the crap out of 'em." Logan paused and watched Clint for a moment with a little smirk growing at the corner of his mouth. "Or … I can send Wade in to keep you company."

Clint shook his head at that. Don't. Don't do that.

"He's right," Natasha pointed out. "You can't sign to everyone. Not everyone knows it."

"He's been wanting to give him mouth-to-mouth since the plane ride home," Logan replied.

"I thought you said you didn't want to know about makeout therapy," Natasha smirked.

"I already know about makeout therapy — just not with Wade," Logan pointed out.

"Just getting him to sign…" Natasha gestured at Clint, who was watching both of them warily by then. "That will help Bobbi and Charles immensely."

"I don't care about helping Bobbi and Charles," Logan said with a wave. "It's you two. Get it together."

"On what, exactly?" Natasha asked with an eyebrow raised. "I think acknowledging my existence is a nice change, don't you?"

"Be better if he'd talk to you," Logan replied.

"He is," Natasha pointed out, and Clint almost imperceptibly nodded his agreement.

"Twenty-four hours," Logan growled out. "Then I'm sending in your resurrection buddy or whatever the hell he's calling himself this week." He looked at Clint with a serious expression. "And I expect you to be mouthy as hell with him — one way or another."

Oh God no, was the response from Clint, looking genuinely upset about it.

Logan just chuckled at him. "It's your call, Hawk-guy."

And it has to be Wade?

Got someone else that might force kiss you into acting like yourself?

Nat? Clint offered.

"Please," Logan said gesturing to her. "You don't gotta be afraid of me. Got it? If you want, one or both of us will be around when Bobbi and Charlie are here."

Clint seemed to consider this before he nodded, carefully. Translator.

I won't let them force you into anything, Logan promised.

Clint watched him for any sign of a lie, and when he didn't see one, he nodded. I don't want to talk.

Then you're going to need to make some major improvements on your own, Logan replied. "No one … no one will hurt you."

Clint tipped his head Logan's way. Then why am I tied down?

Osborn brainwashed you. You tried to off yourself when you were cornered, and you shot me. Logan gave him a look. "Charlie's gonna have to get the triggers outta your head. I promise, it's painless. Like takin' a nap, really."

Clint stared at Logan for a while before he seemed to shrink in on himself. Ok.

"Clint, you really don't have to sign everything," Natasha said gently. "That's part of what's going on too."

Kazi can't sign, Clint replied.

"Who the hell's Kazi?" Logan asked.

Headed up the 'investigative unit'.

"Well, he's sure as hell not welcome here," Logan said. "And if you point him out, I'll aerate him for you." He paused. "And so you know … Whitehall is dead."

Clint looked surprised, his lips slightly parted in an 'o' before he nodded and then leaned his head back, his eyes closed as he processed it. He was there too, right?

He was the one that did it to you, Logan signed back once Clint opened his eyes and looked his way.

I don't remember it, Clint admitted.

Lucky you.

Will I? After Xavier gets through?

Dunno. You'll have to ask Charlie.

Clint considered Logan carefully and then very minutely shook his head. "Sorry," he muttered in half a whisper that turned into a wince conditioned into him on speaking.

"Don't apologize," Logan said. "Not your fault."

Shot you, though. And all that other crap.

"I've had worse," he replied with a shrug.

"And it still isn't your fault," Natasha said firmly. "Or it would be my fault for shooting you on Essex's orders."

Which it wasn't.

"See?" She gestured at Clint and then at Logan. "Why is it that two of my favorite people in the world are such idiots?"

"Shit taste?" Logan asked.

"Must be," she agreed with a smirk as Clint nodded his fervent agreement.

"Let me know if you need me," Logan offered, handing Natasha his tablet. "I'll have Skye's."

"I'd ask if I could go through the history, but I know Skye has it wiped every 24 hours," Natasha chuckled.

Logan shook his head. "You know what she says, right? Always a trail if you're determined enough to find it."

"I'll be a little occupied," Natasha pointed out, resting a hand on Clint's shoulder that the blonde archer stared at for a while.

"Which is why I'm not worried in the least," he agreed. "But you might wanna kiss him before he regresses."

Otherwise it's taking advantage, Clint said.

Which she'll do anyhow. Logan countered.

I wouldn't complain.

Natasha rolled her eyes at Logan. "Just… go get Bobbi and Charles so we can keep him from regressing too far in the first place."

Logan waved over his shoulder as he left. "I'll tell 'em later. Work on your makeout therapy in the meantime."

Natasha shook her head at that, though when the door closed and Clint was giving her such a look, she rolled her eyes at him too. "You're both horrible," she told him, and he nodded his agreement before she very carefully moved her chair so she could more comfortably kiss him.