Clint made a face. "That's a matter of opinion. I had Nat in Budapest. Despite things going spectacularly pear-shaped the moment we stepped off the plane, it least we were in that shithole together. Not with some crazy idiot with a bigger death wish than me deciding it would be fun to try and fly in the middle of a sandstorm." Clint shook his head as he strode past.

"To this day I am amazed I made it back without several bullet holes or being flattened to a pancake."

"Also I've seen the world," he pointed out as he flopped into one of the chairs in front of Coulson's desk. "Most of it's overrated."

He waited till his handler came in and closed the door before shooting him a smirk. "You know, sir, we've made the acquaintance of a couple gods now. If anyone would know about arranging cold days in hell, I bet it would be them. Would you like me to ask Thor next time I see him?"