"I'll give it a thought and try again as soon as I get the perfect idea, okay?"

Clint was still grinning to himself when finished his work and carried both the pasta pot and the salad bowl to the small table in the living room. Only now he realized he hadn't actually asked Natasha if this was okay for diner. Sometimes that certain mission routine still stuck, it seemed, where there was no time and resources to think much about when and what to eat.

"I hope you like it. If your stomach is still giving you a hard time or something..."

He stopped his mouth quickly before he could start coddling her again and rather got himself a helping of salad from the bowl.