"Okay," Clint said it slowly, like he was trying to work through the concept of magical thought wounds. And maybe, he supposed, he got it. Wanda probably could have benefited from Ubbly's. Still, he was well aware that it was an absolutely absurd sentence, and there was probably little point in keeping on over it. Instead he took another bite of his pizza.
"Date night," he repeated, eyebrows raising and his ears going slightly pink. "Really?" It wasn't sarcasm or doubt in his tone though, so much as interest. "That'd be cool." He wasn't exactly a farmer's market guy (even if he did wear plaid and converse enough to be one), but he'd give it a go.