According to the courier, their next target is having lunch at the café across the street. Clint just wants to get the job done, but Natasha insists that they first go to the bakery underneath the tiny attic office where they are holding an impromptu meeting to pick up the Linzer Torte she apparently ordered this morning.
"Call me Sofia when we're down there."
"Did Fury approve that alias?"
She snorts as she begins to crawl down the fire escape. "I hardly think he cares what name I use when I'm ordering pastries."
"He does when you buy new lingerie," he says as he follows her down.
"Well, we can't have Victoria's Secret wondering about mysterious charges from S.H.I.E.L.D."
"Funny."
They are silent when they finally reach the street. They walk to the back entrance of the bakery, where the head pastry maker's young apprentice waits at the door, clutching the intricately decorated pastry in her arms with the concern of a new mother.
When Clint notices the almost affectionate expression Natasha is wearing as she approaches the young girl and takes it from her, he decides to bring her back here the next time they have to kill someone in Budapest.