After a night of pretty awkward but harmless dreams involving only strange, very young faces, Clint certainly hadn't been prepared for a unpleasant morning. Used to the new accommodations by now and comfortable, relaxed by Natasha's side he had looked forward to a nice sleep in and lazy breakfast in bed. And then trying to get that kitten in the transport box without getting killed in the act.
Obviously there would be a change of plans.
Being awake in a matter of moments if necessary was part of his training, but Natasha fleeing from his arms so suddenly in a safe environment like this, caught him by surprise. She was gone before he had even sat up or asked. And that tone in her voice let him know before he heard the noises, she hadn't just had too much to drink yesterday.
Last time he had left her alone, mostly because the argument before, but this time he didn't hesitate to join her in the bathroom, quietly, carefully, with the first sweater of his he had found in the cabinet to wrap around her back when he knelt down beside her. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, of course, but right now she didn't have to, not when they were here together. So he tried his best to help her out, gently held her hair out of her face and rested one hand soothingly on her back until the worst seemed to be over.
For the moment. So, some kind of silly virus after all, or maybe the heat was too much, just as he had feared. A hint of guilt struck him, for wearing her out so much last night when she clearly had still been sick. Only she hadn't been. She had been fine in the evening, and somehow he doubted it had been the food again.
He thought about making a silly pregnancy remark for a second but decided it was too early in the morning for morbid jokes. Sighing, he pulled Natasha in his arms when she seemed to have calmed down and carefully ran his fingers through her hair, just holding her loosely enough, in case her stomach would protest again.
"Looks like we should see a hospital instead of the vet."
no subject
Obviously there would be a change of plans.
Being awake in a matter of moments if necessary was part of his training, but Natasha fleeing from his arms so suddenly in a safe environment like this, caught him by surprise. She was gone before he had even sat up or asked. And that tone in her voice let him know before he heard the noises, she hadn't just had too much to drink yesterday.
Last time he had left her alone, mostly because the argument before, but this time he didn't hesitate to join her in the bathroom, quietly, carefully, with the first sweater of his he had found in the cabinet to wrap around her back when he knelt down beside her. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, of course, but right now she didn't have to, not when they were here together. So he tried his best to help her out, gently held her hair out of her face and rested one hand soothingly on her back until the worst seemed to be over.
For the moment. So, some kind of silly virus after all, or maybe the heat was too much, just as he had feared. A hint of guilt struck him, for wearing her out so much last night when she clearly had still been sick. Only she hadn't been. She had been fine in the evening, and somehow he doubted it had been the food again.
He thought about making a silly pregnancy remark for a second but decided it was too early in the morning for morbid jokes. Sighing, he pulled Natasha in his arms when she seemed to have calmed down and carefully ran his fingers through her hair, just holding her loosely enough, in case her stomach would protest again.
"Looks like we should see a hospital instead of the vet."