The relief when Natasha pulled back didn't last long. In fact Clint needed all his self-control to not sputter in his glass when her foot came back to tease him. He coughed it away discreetly and raised his eyebrow at Natasha again. There was only so much you could hide under a long table cloth, but well if she insisted on playing with fire... No one was to say, Clint Barton didn't take a challenge.

"Well, it's your night after all. Including massages and all. We can do whatever you want..."

It didn't take much effort to put that rough, low tone in his voice he knew Natasha to like. At this rate not only his glass but the big water jar between them would be empty in no time. His throat suddenly felt like sitting in the sun for way too long.