“You love all my accents,” Natasha teased, watching the cat vanish before stepping past Clint and into the house. She wasn’t a pet person; not because she didn’t like animals, but because they had been used as part of her training in the past and those lessons weren’t easily forgotten. Besides, she didn’t need anything depending solely on her for it’s life; some days it was struggle enough to keep herself alive.

That didn’t mean she sometimes didn’t consider it, though.

“As much as people like to domesticate them, they are still animals, and not so easily controlled,” she said, sticking her bottom lip out slightly at him to playfully mock the whole grumpy facade he was putting on.

Of course it didn’t take long for Clint’s mind to wander and Natasha rolled her eyes as she snatched the bottle from his hand and took a drink. “You’re little more than an animal yourself,” she said, grinning at him. Taking one last sip before handing the water back, she made sure to dribble a little on her chin and tilted her head back so that a few droplets ran down her neck to disappear beneath her shirt. “A bath does sound good, though...”

Keeping her eyes on his face, she slowly unbuttoned her shirt, starting at the bottom, button by painstaking button. When she reached the last one, though, she abruptly turned her back on him before slipping off the shirt and tossing it over her shoulder at him and heading toward the bathroom.