Despite everything he managed a chuckle at her joke. “Damn, there goes all my fashion plans for the weekend,” he replied, feeling himself relax a little. They were going to be okay, he just had to pretend she hadn’t just admitted to wanting to tear his clothes off because she thought he was sexy. Right. He could do that.

Shit.

“I’m sure he would have given you a reason to before you even had the door closed.” Knowing the genius that was Tony Stark, he probably would have figured out Natasha’s predicament before they’d even left the laboratory and it would have taken all the willpower he didn’t have to wait until they were in the safehouse to start grilling her for information. He would have been unconscious in minutes, Iron Man suit or not.

“Sorry,” Clint looked quickly away when she called him on his staring. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, some sort of sign of what to do next? “It’s been a long day, why don’t we just get some sleep?” He moved to get to his feet, this time the second cot his chosen destination.