asthehawkflies | [#000] Appointments

The touch startled him awake, and only the familiarity of it keeps him from attacking without thought. He ends up staring up at Natasha and then groans as the smell of coffee hits him. "Something like that. Coffee. Please?"

She waits for him to lift his head before handing the steaming mug to him, then slides down into the narrow space, replacing his crushed pillow with her lap.

"Sorry," she apologizes for having startled him awake, and there's a frown on her lips now, because for him to have slept through her entrance entirely... that wasn't at all typical. "You can sleep longer, if you want. I was going to see if you wanted to come on a run."

He accepts the mug with a gratitude usually reserved for extra ammo during a firefight and manages the impressive feat of drinking some while still practically lying on his back. He edges up a little when she sits down so that he can lean against her and drink his coffee.

"Mmm, it's fine. Stupid place to fall asleep anyway." He hadn't even locked the door either which was another sign. "No. I'm awake now. A run- a run would be good." He could use the distraction.

"Alright," she agreed mildly, because that was easy enough to give. She studies him, watches the way he takes the coffee, the exhaustion she can see still written in his face. She reaches out, combing her fingers lightly through his hair. "You've fallen asleep in worse places. At least you're less likely to fall out of this one."

He gives a soft sigh, closing his eyes again as she touches him. "Well, I do have the advantage of not trying to kill anyone right now. Or having anyone trying to kill me. Unless there's something you're not telling me?" he says, giving her a slightly amused look.

"If I was going to kill you, I wouldn't have wasted the coffee," was the dry retort as she tugged on a lock of his hair, her tone light. She met his gaze, her expression affectionate, although a hint of concern lingered in her gaze as she studied him.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"That is true. You are always very economical." He grins at the tug to his hair, and takes another sip of the coffee. Sweet merciful caffeine. He knew that it wasn't going to be something he could keep from her for long. Or at all.

He shrugs at the question. It seems kind of ridiculous to have to explain honestly, when their lives are usually more about people trying to kill them. "Broke up. Confused."

Her hand stilled a moment before brushing over his hair once more, touch still light, familiar. "That was.... sudden," she commented evasively, letting him make the choice if he wanted to say more. Or not.

"Yeah," he says slowly because he's still a little, well, he's not sure what to think. "Something happened. She has someone back home. Missed their birthday because of a shift." He shakes his head. "It's just... confusing. And yeah, sudden."

"I should have spiked the coffee," she drawled, then bent down to press her lips lightly against the top of his head. "But maybe clearing your head will be better. Why don't you get dressed? We'll take Lucky on a run. Maybe we can take one of those tunnels out to this beach I keep hearing about. I haven't actually been yet."

"You should always spike the coffee," Clint replied with a wry smile. "I think I'll make it a rule from now on. All coffee must contain alcohol." The way this place was, he's starting to think it would be a good idea. "That sounds like a good idea," he agreed with a nod. "Lucky could use a bit of a walk yeah."

"I'm sure that will go over wonderfully at the cafe. We'll have to ban Tony for good," She quipped, trying to keep conversation light for the moment. Natasha gave him a fond smile when he agreed, ruffling his hair. "I'm sure he could. He's probably not the only one, either. I'll run up and get changed. Meet you downstairs in ten?"

"I'm sure Pepper can take care of things on that front. He's going to be mainlining coffee anyway," he said, smiling warmly when she ruffled his hair. "I love that I rank about the same level as dog in your mind right now," he said with a teasing tone. "Yeah. I'll be there. I need to get outside."

"Right now?" she echoed teasingly, giving him a wry look as she pushed herself to her feet. But then her expression turned a hint more serious, her gaze warm and fond as she searched his face.

"You're wrong, you know," she commented softly. "You're a rank all your own, Clint. You always have been."

She brushed her fingers over his hair lightly once more before turning and heading for the door.

He snorts softly, looking back at her with a wry smile on his lips. "Well, I'm sure the SHIELD rumour mill has said worse," he replies. The smile fades a little though with the open confession because that... that's not something that they do. Not normally. Hell, not even in the middle of a battlefield.

"Tasha..." he begins, but then she's gone. He stares after her for a moment before he heads off to get changed into something he hasn't been wearing for two days.

She's waiting for him outside when he comes down to the ground level, dressed in comfortable training gear. Her hair is drawn up and back, curls held contained in a pair of short pigtails for the moment to keep it out of her face. It's a casual look for her, more so than usual, and she looks up at him with a smile as she straightens out of a stretch.

Lucky's exuberant to be outside and she crouches to greet him again, ruffling his fur and playing with him for a moment, getting licked for her troubles but she doesn't really mind. She's never been one for pets, but she's got a soft spot for Clint's. "Well, someone's excited for a run, at least.

He's changed into something comfortable, sweat pants and a t-shirt, and he smiles at the sight of her. She looks younger like this, hair drawn back. It's a nice look. He lets Lucky go over to her as he does his own stretches, because even as messed up as he is, he's not about to risk pulling a muscle because he was careless. "Dogs are always excited. About everything."

"Yes, so I've been learning," she grins, playing with him a moment longer. "But this time with good reason. You could use some exercise, couldn't you, Lucky? Clint's obviously been being lazy, hasn't he?" There's mischievous teasing in her tone as she talks to the dog, then evades his tongue with a laugh.

"Seriously? I take one day off and suddenly I'm lazy? I see how it is," he says, but he can feel the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Lucky is just as excited about taking a nap in the afternoon too y'know. Or being fed. Or someone arriving."

Natasha laughs and straightens up, her hand still resting fondly atop Lucky's head. "Sounds like someone else I know," she teases him, impish humor in her gaze as she cocks her head at him, grinning. "Ready, slowpoke?"

"Wow. You are such a charmer there, Tasha," he says, giving her an amused look, and yeah, that smile is pretty firmly stuck in place right now. "Ready when you are, Slowbro."

"Aren't I though?" she countered, bumping her shoulder playfully against his. It's good to see him smiling. "I'm always ready. Whether or not you can keep up is another matter entirely. Come on, boy," she called, starting off at a jog, although the playful look she tossed over her shoulder left it up to him if she was talking to the dog or not.

He snorted softly, bumping back, and easy, comfortable gesture. "Oh? Is that it? A challenge? Fine. Dog stealing fiend!" And he set back off after her at a jog, catching up without too much trouble.

"Can't steal the willing," was her sing-song answer, her grin audible as she found a comfortable pace, knew he'd have no trouble matching it. It wasn't far to the tunnels - not really much of a work out, by their standards, but he could use the fresh air and a change of scenery to keep from brooding. He tended to do that. It was a terrible habit she kept trying to break him of.

He laughs as he chases her, heading out towards the tunnels after her. They easily fall into step, as though nothing has changed between them. It's nice. Normal even and he enjoys it. There's nothing but the rhythm of their feet, equally matched.

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