“Say what?” Natasha replied, innocently. “That I am surprised you met him at the door with food instead of a broom? That is if he was lucky.” She knew Clint could use worse than a broom to get rid of any unwanted pests, but she didn’t think he wasn’t truly capable of it.

She rolled back on her side so he could lay down with her again, but he had different ideas this time, and it only took her a moment to settle back down again, effectively using his lap as a pillow. Adjusting her skirt, which was horribly wrinkled at this point, she folder her hands on her stomach, her smile softening when touched her lips.

“No, not until you got up to feed our little friend.” She wasn’t quite yet ready to let that go. “Bad dreams?” Just because he hadn’t been vocal in his sleep didn’t mean the dreams hadn’t been bad.