Popcorn

"There it is," Clint pointed across the street to the deserted house. He picked up both their bags, which held minimal things, and gestured for her to follow.

"What a dump," she remarked when they stood in the door.

"What were you expecting?" He asked with a smile.

She laughed. "This. I guess we better make ourselves at home."

Clint stepped aside. "Ladies first."

She moved carefully through the tiny hallway into an open room with a dusty covered couch and removed her jacket. "I wonder if there's anything to eat."

Clint shrugged. "Probably nothing that's good. This place has been abandoned a long time."

She wandered idly across the hall to the kitchen, flipping open her cellular phone. "I'm going to call Agent Coulsson."

Clint flicked on the lights in the small living room. "At least we have electricity this time," he muttered. He found a dirty remote control and pointed it at the clunky television. "Hey, Nat! The TV works!" He called to her.

She appeared in the archway, arms folded across her chest. "Good. I just spoke to Coulsson. Fury says they haven't reached the village yet." She frowned.

Clint sighed. He uncovered the couch and slumped down on it. "Better make ourselves comfortable then. Looks like it's gonna be a long night." He patted the space next to him. "Have a seat."

She held up one finger. "Wait. I want to make popcorn first."

He turned his eyes away from the television and looked at her hopefully. "There's popcorn?"

She grinned. "There's popcorn." Without another word, she disappeared into the kitchen.

He sighed and lifted his feet onto the coffee table. She returned a moment later with a large bowl and two glasses of water. "It's drinkable," she replied in answer to his unspoken question.

He nodded and eagerly accepted her gifts.

"It could be worse," she said. "Who would have thought when we got this assignment that we'd be cuddling on a couch?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Cuddling?"

"You said I should make myself comfortable…." She said with a slight pout.

He grinned and stretched his arm out across that back of the couch. "Well, come here then."

In one swift motion, she plunked down on the seat next to him and leaned back into the crook of his arm. "So what are we watching?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"We don't have to watch anything. We could talk."

He turned cautiously to face her. "What is it you want to talk about?"

She thought for a moment. "Where did you learn to be an archer?"

" Self-taught."

She nodded. "What about your parents?"

"Tasha, we're really talking about this?"

She leaned her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her chin in her cupped hand. "Well, there shouldn't be any secrets between partners, right? If we're going to be working this closely, then I need to know more about you."

"My parents are dead. Killed in a car crash when I was real young. My brother's gone too."

She lowered her gaze and touched his knee. "I'm sorry…"

He shrugged. "That was a long time ago. What about you? Where do your skills come from?"

She gave a short chuckle. "You know all about my past, don't you?"

He placed a hand under her chin and lifted her head up to face him. "I've heard some stories. But I don't believe everything I hear. We trust each other, right?"

She nodded. "It's a good thing we've got all night…."

Clint smiled. "We'd better make some more popcorn."