Over the years Natasha has learned a bit or two about various alcoholic beverages. It's all a part of her gig. She has to know a lot about a lot. There's a literal filing cabinet in her head. Tony Stark did wine well, but she wouldn't have minded sharing a few brews with Clint either. It was only an excuse and she knew it. She needed to see him, to be with him again. It was time.

"That man has a wine cellar that puts most major stadiums to shame." She laughed. Maybe it was smaller than that, but she'd been through a few floors of one of them. That was only the one he happened to have at his house. She didn't bother to mention the fact that he owned a few wineries in general.

Moving closer to Clint she comes up behind him and settles her chin on his shoulder. She likes that he's the right height to rest it there. Inhaling his scent settles any nerves she had about being here again, doing this again. One hand slips around his waist and she noses against his back. "No, he didn't call, and I'll let him live one more day. I've got you here now and more important things on my mind."