Senses [Clint/Natasha]

It's the thought that counts

Natasha Romanoff, super spy— and yet she couldn't bake a cake. She knew she was horrible at cooking— after all, she never learned. And even now that she knew the basics, she sucked at it. That generally wasn't a problem. Clint was a great cook when he had the energy for it. And take-out was a common staple of their diet. But it was Clint's birthday, and so she had to try.

Clint tended to get up early, which was annoying. So Natasha had woken up at 4 am to bake the stupid cake. And of course she had burned it. She thought she might have enough time, so she tried again.

Natasha looked at the finished product. It was a mess. The layers were uneven, the frosting had a weird texture and wasn't distributed evenly. 

Clint came downstairs. 

"Is this—?" he asked. 

She nodded and grimaced. "Happy birthday."

"You made me a cake?" 

She winced.

She cut it, and they started eating, and, yep, it tasted bad too. 

"Whoa, this is delicious!" he said. 

"No, it isn't. Don't lie to please me. We both know it sucks."

"Maybe, but— you don't know how much this means to me."

Author's note: Some bits and ideas from these one-shots were inspired by other fan fictions. If you find a story which seems similar, please tell me so I can credit. I do only use bits and pieces, though. This is in no way me trying to copy anyone.