(I know I'm late. Stupid RL. It's not entirely '5 times' but you did spark an idea to be curated when I have time...)

"Okay, but hear me out," Clint says, pressing a finger against the comm unit in his ear so he can hear better over the roar of the quinjet as it speeds up, spiraling faster through the air. "You put it right on the desk, and maybe include one of those little plastic pumpkins instead of using a jar, and we'll invite all the kids from daycare to the briefing room, and -"

"And no," Maria Hill snaps back, cutting him off before he can continue. "No Halloween celebrations in the office. No candy on my desk. And most especially, no children in the briefing room. You're bad enough."

"That hurts," Clint says with a mock frown that he knows she can't see. "All I'm saying is that with Fury away for the week, you can make things a little more fun during the holidays."

Maria sighs irritably. "Define 'fun,' Barton, because you already made my job fun. I just had to use all my available resources to extract you and Romanoff from a ditch in the middle of nowhere, because you couldn't wait five minutes before trying to chase after that thug. Who, by the way, had absolutely no information that you needed."

"I'm fine," Clint protests though he knows it's a bit of a lie, it was Natasha who had gotten out fine while Clint ended up with a sprained ankle and a nasty gash on the side of his head, one that Natasha had told him, in no uncertain terms, would definitely need a bandage for weeks.

"Medical will determine that," Maria responds tightly, and Clint glowers.

"You're ruining my Halloween fun."

"Clearly. See you in New York, Barton."

Clint yanks the comm out of her ear as Maria hangs up and Natasha looks over from where she's cleaning her gun, her face streaked with sweat and dirt.

"Maybe you can go as a mummy with that head wound," Natasha remarks as she reaches into the pocket of her mission bag. Clint glares again.

"Not funny, Tash."

Natasha sighs. "Here," she says, tossing a small object at Clint, who catches it easily despite his injuries. He opens his palm, studying the small wrapped item carefully.

"What's this?"

"Your Halloween candy," she says with a small smile. "Imported Russian chocolate. Bet you've never had that before."

"All these years together, and you waited until now to introduce me to your candy?" Clint asks, raising an eyebrow, trying not to whine. "I gave you twinkies AND ice cream sandwiches in the same week."

"It wasn't Halloween," Natasha responds, getting up and sitting beside him. She reaches up to check the make-shift bandage on his head, and Clint winces as the quinjet hits a particularly steep bump of turbulence.

"You're saving some for Hill, right? Because I think we owe her."

Awww -- that's lovely! (And poor Clint ...) Maria needs to devolve her inner kid a bit further, though! ;-)

Thank you so, so much for this. And I more than sympathize on the RL front. Been a roller coaster this week (and even bits of today).

As for the 5 times and Maria Hill -- there may (may) be one of those happening tomorrow, if I don't hurt myself putting the deck away. You were actually supposed to be getting one of THOSE, but then today I kind of zoned out and started handing treats out in order or knocks on the door ... :P

PS: Have you ever had Russian chocolate? I once got a whole box from the Russian embassy. In an office full of chocolate vultures, where a box of Lindt lasts until 10 am, that thing was still there on the weekend, at which point it was (fittingly) "disappeared". Would be interesting to see Clint's reaction when he eats it! ;-)