Clint was very lucky he didn’t try to mess with her food. She would know, and while she could appreciate his tendency to worry, she would not appreciate him trying to push her, especially while not doing the same to himself.

Lost in her own thoughts, Natasha looked up at the sound of his voice and gave him a soft smile. “Time’s up,” she said, giving Liho one last little scratch before carrying the kitten to the door. “Maybe you can come back in later,” she stage whispered as she set the kitten down on the stoop and reluctantly shut the door again. Heading back to the kitchen, she washed her hands in the sink before grabbing two bottles of water and joining Clint in the living room. “A few days and she’s already spoiled.”