Clint’s sleepy voice and disorientation was kind of cute, and on any other day Natasha would have found it amusing, but while he had been sleeping she had done little more but think about what was to come.  Needless to say she was not feeling easily amused this morning.

“A little,” she said, slowly pushing herself to sit up now that she knew her movements wouldn’t wake him.  She had drifted in and out a few times, which probably didn’t really count as sleeping but it would have to do.  “We have about an hour.”

Drawing one leg up on the bed so she could turn partially toward him, she did smile a little at the picture he presented.  Brushing a hand through his sleep mussed hair and down over his cheek and jaw, she traced his lips with her thumb before retracting her hand.  “We should get ready.”