And there went the light carelessness of the morning. Great job, Barton. Again. As if he didn't know better.
Commitment. Not a favorite subject for anyone working a job like Natasha and him.
For Natasha it was even a thousand times harder. Clint kind of should be aware of that after 10 years of waiting for her.
Maybe the last days had gotten to his head a little, clouded his sight with the happiness Natasha so often was radiating lately. She had looked happy too when that animal had been around, and he loved it when she was happy. He wanted her to be happy. Maybe he sometimes got a little over enthusiastic with that.
That little furball was cute, sure, and he didn't mind putting some food out in the morning. If they could somehow get it sanitized, maybe he wouldn't mind it sitting on Natasha's arm in the evening, while they were watching a movie or something.
Unfortunately they couldn't stay here forever. And unless Natasha had some really helpful and understanding neighbors, keeping an animal with a job like theirs wasn't exactly easy.
Then again, maybe he was thinking much too far. Right now he cared mostly about Natasha's smile. And maybe a little about that rather helpless seeming stray. He always had had a weak spot for these.
"I don't think we'd get her to use a litter box anyway. Or sleep in the house, for that matter."
He pulled Natasha a little closer, so they wouldn't be in anyone's way, and softly lifted her chin to let her know, he understood, he knew. And still wouldn't push her in any direction she wasn't comfortable with. Going by what he knew would be good for her, would make her feel good, just like it had always been... That would apply in this case just as well.
"But she's really pretty small for how old she must be. Summer litters should be able to take care of themselves by autumn. Can't hurt to coddle her up a little, right? Then she'll be ready for the winter. Wherever she'll end up then."
no subject
Commitment. Not a favorite subject for anyone working a job like Natasha and him.
For Natasha it was even a thousand times harder. Clint kind of should be aware of that after 10 years of waiting for her.
Maybe the last days had gotten to his head a little, clouded his sight with the happiness Natasha so often was radiating lately. She had looked happy too when that animal had been around, and he loved it when she was happy. He wanted her to be happy. Maybe he sometimes got a little over enthusiastic with that.
That little furball was cute, sure, and he didn't mind putting some food out in the morning. If they could somehow get it sanitized, maybe he wouldn't mind it sitting on Natasha's arm in the evening, while they were watching a movie or something.
Unfortunately they couldn't stay here forever. And unless Natasha had some really helpful and understanding neighbors, keeping an animal with a job like theirs wasn't exactly easy.
Then again, maybe he was thinking much too far. Right now he cared mostly about Natasha's smile. And maybe a little about that rather helpless seeming stray. He always had had a weak spot for these.
"I don't think we'd get her to use a litter box anyway. Or sleep in the house, for that matter."
He pulled Natasha a little closer, so they wouldn't be in anyone's way, and softly lifted her chin to let her know, he understood, he knew. And still wouldn't push her in any direction she wasn't comfortable with. Going by what he knew would be good for her, would make her feel good, just like it had always been... That would apply in this case just as well.
"But she's really pretty small for how old she must be. Summer litters should be able to take care of themselves by autumn. Can't hurt to coddle her up a little, right? Then she'll be ready for the winter. Wherever she'll end up then."