By the time Natasha returned, Clint had persuaded mama that he was worth trusting, and she'd finally laid down, rested her head on his lap. He also had the four kittens in his lap, and was swearing under his breath every time their claws dug into his leg.
"You are an angel," Clint drawled, smiling up at her with an oddly contented expression. "And you've proven you actually have maternal instincts. Take that, Heaven."