"Appreciate if you must, I'd rather you show me instead of just looking though.." Not that Clint needed any prompting. Natasha's eyes followed the discarded coat and all ready she was imaging those arms wrapped around her. If she had one weakness it was Clint Barton's arms.

Not that she'd ever admit that to anyone.

Standing together flush like this made her realise just how damn much she'd missed him. She'd spent lonely nights wrapped up in nothing but her sheets missing his comfortable weight and she shouldn't have let it happen. She sank too deep, got too far into something she swore she'd never do again.

She couldn't afford to feel, feeling made you weak, it cost you your life.

But it felt good, it made her feel real, human. Why shut off from something that made her feel whole?

Her hands moved to his neck, fingers carding through the hair at his nape, kissing him back with the same ferocity he displayed, lifting a leg to wrap it around his waist, heel of her shoe gently scraping the back of his calve and this was dangerous and toeing so many lines.

What the hell, Natasha was never one for playing by the rule book.