Natasha didn’t let her satisfaction at Clint’s reaction show. If he thought he was going to get away scot free then he was sorely mistaken, and now he knew that as well, not that she for one moment believed he hadn’t expected consequences. Perhaps he was even looking forward to them.

Pac-Man was not the only game being played her any longer.

Standing aside to let him take his seat, she waited until he had gotten started before moving to stand behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders. “The bow suits you,” she commented, thumbs pressing into his skin as she massaged his shoulders lightly. If she really wanted to win she could easily temporarily paralyze his arms, but that would hardly be enjoyable. He had set the stakes for the game and she would follow suit, though she preferred to ease in a little, let him anticipate what she might do.