"That's ironic—must have been the same place you learned comedy," Clint shot back, with a grin. He glanced over at his partner, when she deposited the bowl of ice but otherwise didn't pay her much attention as he set about the task of filing each glass with enough cubes that would make the drinks nice and cold.
Moving into the living room, Clint followed Natalia over to the table, and reached around to place the glasses on its surface, one on each side. And when his hands were free of that, he grasped Natalia, and flattened his hand over her stomach, pressing her into him. "You're right, its just you and me."
His advances were a little (read: a lot) overt, but there was no denying that the two of them were close. And if the circumstances had been different in the past, that is Clint not being happily married, who was to say the two of them wouldn't have ended up in bed well before this?