Kate Bishop walked the familiar two blocks from the bus stop to the back of the apartment building. She adjusted her knapsack on her back and took her usual route, up the fire escape, left across the grate, and pried open the third window in, which usually didn't close all the way.

"Hey, Hawkeye!" She called, tossing her backpack on the floor and looking up in surprise when she heard a startled scream.

"Katie? Jesus!" He shouted, his face red with embarrassment.

Her eyes adjusted to the sudden light just in time to see the Black Widow pulling her shirt down and she fumbled back towards the window. "Aw, shit. Sorry, I didn't realize you had company, I mean you never… girls…"

Clint shook his head. "Stop talking. Just please, stop talking."

"Alright. I'll, um, see ya later. " She proceeded to retreat through the still open window.

"No," Natasha said, rising up from her perch on the bed. "You stay. I was just leaving."

"Nat, wait," Clint said.

"It's fine," she assured him, placing him a quick kiss on his forehead. "I have to go get some paperwork to Steve anyway. Apparently I have to make a report about what happened with Strange."

He nodded. "Can I call you later?"

She grinned. "You better."

He turned back to Kate, breathing out a long sigh and running his hand awkwardly through his hair.

"Jeez, I can't even leave you alone for thirty seconds, let alone two weeks!" She said.

"How was your mom's surgery?" He asked, cocking his head to one side.

"It went really well. She'll be back to her charity banquets in no time. And you?"

He shrugged. "I'm fine."

"So there's nothing you want to talk about?"

"Nope."

She placed her hands on her hips. "Like… how come you're hooking up with your ex-girlfriend shortly after you divorce your ex-wife for real? Didn't we talk about you not making the same mistakes over and over again?"

"It's different this time, Katie."

"Riiiight. I'm sure that's what you said the last time, too. And, uh, aren't you forgetting something? Like the fact that she's forgetting something really big here?"

"Oh. She got her memories back. And I told you never to say anything about that ever again," he said, pointing a finger at her.

Kate smacked his hand away. "Waitaminut. She remembers everything?"

"Yeah."

"So, let me get this straight. She remembers what it's like to have all kinds of crazy sex with Bucky, and she still chose you?" She asked incredulously.

He frowned. "It's not like that with us. We haven't, uh.. I mean, we're still figuring things out. And thanks."

She narrowed her eyes. "That's not like you."

"I told you, it's different with her."

"Ah," she nodded in understanding. "Are you afraid to do it with her because you think you won't live up to Barnes?"

"Um, I wasn't until you just said that."

She whistled. "I mean, he's…"

He held up his hands. "Right. I get it."

"I'm sorry. You're attractive too. In a…taller, ganglier, blonder sort of way, I guess."

"Are you done?"

"Really, Clint? Natasha? You do remember how she broke you, right? All those years ago?"

"How would you know? Were you even born yet?" He asked angrily.

"Hey, I'm just looking out for you. I may not have been there at the time, but I'm here now. And I know that you took a crazy long time to get over her."

"I didn't."

"You did! Everyone knows that she was, like the love of your life, or whatever, before Bobbi…"

"I mean, I didn't get over her."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Well, then I really hope you know what you're doing."

"I do," he promised. "I'm gonna take her out, freaking impress the hell out of her, and then, well—"

"Yeah, I get that part. Damn, Barton. You must be really good in bed to keep even the oldest of flames coming back."