Turning his head at her playful voice, Clint had to try hard not to spill the sip of his drink he had just taken. Once he didn't feel like coughing tequila anymore, he started to laugh, even while his eyes were magically drawn to the unclothed parts of Natasha's body. So much for being good. That was a game two could play.

And thankfully, she had not found the worst clothes so far.

"Actually that's my outfit when I take the old lady in the garage for a ride. I thought about taking you along one day, but if you don't like the clothes..."

He pretended to pout, his eyes still roaming her body extensively.

"I don't see how that's helping you with staying warm, though." He frowned demonstratively, rubbing his chin. "Except you're trying to make me tear your clothes off your body and do the job myself. In that case get that fine ass over here."