"So much for a stealthy entrance," he mused, still holding his hands up defensively. Clint had a set of keys to Bobbi's apartment, which were in his hands right then. Clint had a set of keys because this had once been his apartment. They weren't ready for a divorce yet, but separation was a practical alternative. So, Bobbi got the apartment and he cat. And when she was feeling generous she'd let him come over, not unlike now, when he was letting himself over.
"I just got in from Heathrow," he explained. "I thought I'd swing by and say hello." He left it unsaid that she was the first person that he wanted to see upon arriving stateside and that he'd go to his former apartment before heading to his own to drop off his stuff. Clint had an Acura* parked downstairs that still had all of his tactical gear stuffed into the trunk from his mission aboard.
"Waking you up in the middle of the night is just a bonus," he teased. "Honey, I'm home. C'mon, Bobbi, what? No kiss?" Finally he let his posture relax and stooped to pick up the cat who was purring and rubbing up and down Clint's leg, seeking the man's attention. "At least the cat knows how to greet me properly."
Clint scratched behind the cat's ear and after saying hello, let him go again and plopped down on Bobbi's couch, himself, all uninvited and the like.