Something about the compliment unlocks a piece deep within his brain. It's not a specific moment, but a feeling. Something about safety or warmth with Natasha, a feeling of belonging that had been filed away behind lock and key deep inside a vault of faulty memories.

He never trusts his memories, they've been tampered with too many times to be trusted. Yet it's a feeling, not a memory that rushes over him with those touches and compliments.

He reaches a hand out to brush over the side of her arm as he gives her a serious, contemplative look.

"Well then, Natasha, is he gonna bet me up if I try to kiss you now?"