Work Text:
There was a clanging sound, like metal falling when it really shouldn’t have. Then, a thud, thud oof.
“Shit.”
Steve looked to the ceiling and counted to ten, breathing out slowly.
“What’d you do this time?” He called.
“Nothing,” came the strangled sound of Nat’s voice.
Steve stood up with a sigh, and headed into the other room. Natasha was sprawled on the floor, the disassembled carcasses of three guns spread around her.
“Need a hand?”
She nodded, interlaced their fingers and allowed him to pull her up. She dusted off her thighs (not that there was anything to dust off) and smiled at him with an ‘ I meant to do that’ face. He rolled his eyes and leaned in, kissing her softly, fondly.
“You’re a disaster. I love you.”
“Love you too, Capsicle.”