Clint & Natasha
It turned out that planning a birthday party wasn't that much work, really, and if Natasha could run successful Avengers operations from different continents, from different planets, even, planning one movie night should have been a walk in the park. And still she'd paid attention to this with the kind of precision focus that indicated if it wasn't all perfectly executed down to the last detail, it could result in someone's actual death. Which was to say: she had taken it seriously. It was the first time in a long time she'd been able to celebrate Clint's birthday; the first time they were celebrating it together, the first time she was throwing him a party, and, well, everything had to be perfect was probably a lofty goal, but it was still where she'd set the milemarkers.
She wanted it to be nice. Memorable. Fun. The best birthday he'd ever had. A way to show him how much he was loved. A lot of things.
Natasha could relax now that it was the night-of, though, she could relax. It seemed like it was all going off without a hitch, just a matter of the sun going down enough to make sure the picture would be at its best visibility. She grabbed two beers and thronged her way through the crowd, slowly gathering and settling in, until she found the birthday boy in the center of everything, eating Twizzlers and looking - the way she had wanted him to look, tonight, and when he caught her eyes, there was that smile that still did things to her.
"Hey, birthday boy," she said, dropping onto the blanket next to him and handing over one of the beers, then leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Hope this seat's not taken."