She’s the only Avenger returning to her apartment, but Natasha knows as soon as she arrives that she isn’t the only person there.
A transcribed voicemail comes in to her Stark Industries cell from Clint’s as she steps inside:
“Let Laura and I know you get home safely, okay, Nat? We love you, the kids love you...sorry about Nathaniel. Hey, maybe we’ll have another and you can choose the name. Please don’t tell Laura I said that. Just, call when you're home.”
Natasha grins, but puts the phone back in her pocket.
A cupboard door’s been left open above the makeshift bar in her kitchen, and the area is just illuminated enough for her to see it - and a sparkling pair of earrings.
“So, a disciplinary hearing?”
“Little late on the uptake, there.”
“I’ve been busy,” Hope shrugs.
“Ah, yes. So, how is your boyfriend?”
“Scott’s not my boyfriend.”
“He is so your boyfriend.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Well, Clint Barton isn’t mine, either, but it just so happens I often have threesomes with him and his wife, so what do you make of that?”
Hope smirks, and hands Natasha a shot glass, clinking her own against it and downing the rest of her drink.
“I got to see some SHIELD recordings of your fights.”
“Even more impressed by your skill set than I was before.”
Natasha sets her glass down gingerly.
“Miss van Dyne, those moves are nothing.”
“Oh, that’s what I'm counting on, Agent Romanov.”