Natasha glanced up at Clint as she straightened from the mini fridge in the corner, one hand holding a bottle of vodka frosty from the freezer and the other holding a small tray of ice. Her gaze flicked to the room as she sat both items on the counter, then turned for glasses. "I think they're different for every person," she said. "Granted, I haven't been in many people's rooms, but of the rooms I have been in, all were different. I think the hotel tries to be as accommodating as possible, strangely enough."
Natasha's room boasted sparse but comfortable furnishings, a wet bar, and enough security to make her feel comfortable sleeping there, which was really all she wanted or needed anyway. "Maybe yours will have a pizza oven in one corner. If so, dinner's on you from here on out."
She poured the drinks, added the ice, and made her way over to where Clint sat. She didn't feel like sitting on the floor, so she handed him his glass and curled up on the couch behind him, one knee resting against his shoulder. "It's pretty big, Barton," she said with a sigh. "And I'd make an even worse mother than you would an uncle, so let's not joke about that."
She took a drink from her glass, draining it until there was just a bit of vodka mixing with the ice at the bottom of her glass, and then started to speak. She saw no reason to keep delaying, and she laid out the facts of what had happened in Washington from start to finish as though she were relating any other details of a mission to him. She kept to the facts, skimming around her personal feelings on anything because her feelings were abundant and confusing when it came to much of what had happened in Washington, so she simply left them all out for the time being.
"Barnes is at the hotel too," she finished after she'd brought him up to speed. "He and Rogers are currently doing the whole seek and avoid thing, last I knew. I don't see much of either of them."
no subject
Natasha's room boasted sparse but comfortable furnishings, a wet bar, and enough security to make her feel comfortable sleeping there, which was really all she wanted or needed anyway. "Maybe yours will have a pizza oven in one corner. If so, dinner's on you from here on out."
She poured the drinks, added the ice, and made her way over to where Clint sat. She didn't feel like sitting on the floor, so she handed him his glass and curled up on the couch behind him, one knee resting against his shoulder. "It's pretty big, Barton," she said with a sigh. "And I'd make an even worse mother than you would an uncle, so let's not joke about that."
She took a drink from her glass, draining it until there was just a bit of vodka mixing with the ice at the bottom of her glass, and then started to speak. She saw no reason to keep delaying, and she laid out the facts of what had happened in Washington from start to finish as though she were relating any other details of a mission to him. She kept to the facts, skimming around her personal feelings on anything because her feelings were abundant and confusing when it came to much of what had happened in Washington, so she simply left them all out for the time being.
"Barnes is at the hotel too," she finished after she'd brought him up to speed. "He and Rogers are currently doing the whole seek and avoid thing, last I knew. I don't see much of either of them."