Eyebrow waggling was acceptable but only in small amounts. And only because they were both probably just the most awful of people. It couldn't be helped though. Not when the Mini Muffins loomed so closely. He stuck his tongue out at her because they were in a place for five year olds, so it was only fair that he acted that age, too.
The moral of the story here was that they were both superheroes. Trained spies and assassins and had seen all the weirdest shit and more that the worlds could through at them, but neither of them really knew how to deal with being called pretty, even if they were both well aware that they liked it coming off of their person's lips. And that seemed good enough. Clint liked watching most anything come off of Natasha's lips. Hearing it was good too, of course.
"Maybe three of everything," Clint said, and he actually had the gall to rub at his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe just to have a few things to take home. See what shakes out best with Lizzie?" He then tried his best to look a little worried. "Kids. You never know, right? And --uh. Yeah. Coffee please. That's not a thing we're trying for her. I just prefer it." The laugh he delivered was perfect and fake and it should not have been a turn on to be doing low key role playing in a place like this, and it wasn't exactly, but he saw a lot of potential in it.
Once the waitress was off to get them a million things that were probably miniature, Clint rested his elbow on the table and offered a goofy sort of smile.