Vodka on the Rocks | Natasha
Clint slipped into the darkened apartment silently, closing the door behind him with the softest of clicks. Natasha had seemingly told JARVIS to let him in whenever he pleased. He beamed a little internally at the thought, this was trust on a level he wasn't sure Natasha was capable of sometimes - she probably had a bunch of secrets from him, but giving him access to her space when she wasn't around was a big thing for both of them.
He flipped the nearest light switch and glanced around. It was sparsely decorated, like most places that Natasha lived in for a while, though there were hints of her presence everywhere, little pieces of her that she left behind almost like a trail of clues for those who knew where to look.
Maybe the most obvious was the bottle of vodka in the top drawer of her freezer, which Clint pulled out, humming the tune to a song he'd long forgotten the words to.
He grabbed glasses and ice for the both of them, then settled in to wait, perching on her couch in view of the door so he could see when she arrived back.
She'd been away for a long time, over a month now, and he was excited to see her, to see if she'd changed any while being away, if she'd started letting her hair grow out or if she still smiled the same way or if she still laughed at his jokes when she thought no one was watching. He'd missed her more than he cared to admit, more than was healthy for either of them, but she didn't need to know that.














