Clint & Natasha
"I know," Natasha assured him. "And I did try not to go too overboard, but - I'm not sure if you know this or not - I'm more than a little fond of you. It's your first birthday that we're spending together. It should be a little special." She rooted around in the box until she found a blue one, bypassing his hand and lifting it up to his mouth instead, an eyebrow raised and the hint of a grin at the corner of her mouth, somewhere between a tease and a challenge. "Next year we'll be extremely lowkey. You and me and James will just hang out at home with a pizza and Blade Runner II: Blade Harder."
Which, to be fair, sounded nice to her, too. Maybe that was a way they could spend next weekend. They were all pretty big fans of curling up in Clint's nest, and if they could rig up this projector on a wall outside, how hard could it be to replicate it in someone's home?
She was staring at him again, she realized, that openly affectionate one, the one that announced she was more than a little besotted and that she sometimes wished she knew how to bring under control. You couldn't buy back a look like that; it said everything, it didn't leave any room for deniability, if you wanted it later.
Sitting next to him like this, candy and popcorn, a movie and a gift and that smile on his face - it was like she was just realizing now she'd felt a little far away from him lately, further than she wanted to. It felt a little bit like coming home, and she dropped a kiss to his shoulder through his shirt, because she still could. "I love you," she said. "Thanks for letting me love you."