Errands

Grocery shopping was impossible. Give me an alien invasion any day.

With Nat relaxing back at the Stark Tower, recovering from a broken collarbone, I was forced to go grocery shopping alone. It was an errand we enjoyed running together. The team had silently fallen into a weekly routine. Stark organized his gadgets, Steve helped Bruce clean the kitchen—although that mainly consisted of throwing everything in the dishwasher and hoping for the best. Natasha carried the grocery list, and I pushed the cart.

But today was a solo mission. I pushed the grocery cart through the automatic doors of Walmart and took in my surroundings. The place was busy, people were pushing carts, kids were running around, and lines at the cash registers were forming. I didn't spot any potential threats.

Pushing the cart along, I unfolded the grocery list from my pocket.

Three cartons of two percent milk, eggs, marble cheese, beef…

Those were easy enough to find. I picked them up in record timing, the only delay being a minor traffic jam in the meat section.

I searched the store all over for the team's special requests that they had jotted down on the list. Dark chocolate for Stark, Earl Grey for Bruce, peanut butter for Steve and Kahlua for Nat.

I was making my way towards the cash register when my phone rang.

"Yeah, Nat?" I said. An older woman behind me tapped my shoulder, asking if I was in line. I gestured for her to go ahead of me, and pushed the cart towards a less busy aisle.

"Clint, are you still at Walmart?" she asked.

"Uh…yeah,"

"Great," she said, in a sugary sweet tone that told me immediately that I was in trouble.

"Tasha, what's up?"

"I need you to do me a favour," she started. I waited.

"Tampons,"

"What!" I nearly yelled.

"Can you get me tampons?"

I felt my face get hot as a passerby stared in confusion.

"No." I hissed.

"Dammit, Clint, it's not that hard!"

"I don't care," I gritted my teeth.

She was silent for a moment.

"Clint, if you come home without my tampons you will not enjoy the consequences." She growled.

The line disconnected. I sighed, and leaned against the cart. Natasha's threats were never a joke. And if she was PMS-ing it would be even worse.

That thought sent me speeding towards the Health and Wellness aisle. To my utter disappointment, it was filled with women picking up their daily products. Trying not to make any eye contact, I headed over to the shelf of tampons. Playtex Sport Tampons – 2 layers of interlocking fibers to protect against leaks, was the first box I saw. I shrugged to myself. Sounded…uh, effective. I picked it up and threw it into the cart as if it was on fire.

Behind me, someone chuckled. I turned to see a man who must've been in his mid-thirties, smiling knowingly at me.

He picked up another brand of tampons and tossed it into his own cart.

"Your wife decided to stay home today," he guessed.

I managed a small smile. "Yeah, something like that."