"A ring, hm?" Clint replies, brushing her hair from her face. "Well. I do have one for you. It's not your engagement ring, mostly because I didn't actually think you'd say yes, even though I know you want to be with me." He kisses her again, sucking on her bottom lip gently, then reaches into his bedside drawer. He gives her a small ring box containing a ring that he'd bought for her even before they'd reconnected intimately.

"I'm good with Vegas. We can make a trip of it. Get married, get a fancy penthouse, and maybe one of those little blue pills so that I can fuck you as many times as I want to that night. Or you could just let me eat you out between rounds." He's making sex jokes, but really, the thougt of Natasha in a pristine white dress, walking toward him, ready to declare herself to be his forever? He's pretty obsessed with that idea.

"We can get tattoos the next day. And then you can be mine."