Fuck Me Pumps - watch?v=iVaqQe3V498

Jessica found that she actually liked the spotlight. Her voice hadn't gotten the better of her yet and she'd had a good first week. The crowd had been entertained, and—though he never said it aloud, just standing stoic as ever—Medusalith insisted that Mr. Boltagon was impressed with her work.

The most important part for Jessica, however, was the frequent presence of Big Tony Stark, and by extension, Ms. Carol Danvers. Jessica wasn't sure how she continued to sing when she came, because every time she saw her, it took her breath away. She found herself singing toward Carol if there was a particularly romantic song in her set list, and had to force herself not to, to cut it back. Whatever her feelings, Big Tony was still there, and he presented a potential for bad news, if anyone were to try to step in on his girl.

Jessica also looked forward to after her performances, when sometimes Danvers and Stark would loiter afterward for a drink. Once, Jessica joined them at Tony's request.

"You've got a hell of a set of pipes on you," he said, sipping from his glass of bourbon. "It's always like hearing a cello playing, so smooth…"

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," said Jessica, her finger tracing the base of the glass in front of her.

"You must tell me where you got that dress," said Carol, staring at Jessica's frame. "It fits you so well."

"I'll get you a card from my seamstress," offered Jessica. She felt a heat in her cheeks and hoped she wasn't blushing. Carol had complimented her figure, and it made her feel like a giddy child. She brushed her hair back from her eyes. As she did, one of the waiters in the tuxedo shirts came up to Tony and tapped him on the shoulder. Tony leaned back to listen to what the boy whispered into his ear, and nodded. The waiter left them, barely affording a glance to the two women, and Big Tony leaned forward again.

"I'm afraid duty calls," he said, clutching his drink in hand. "There's been some trouble just northwest of Midtown." He drained the rest of his drink in one gulp, letting the two ice cubes clink back to the bottom of the empty glass when it met contact with the table. "I'm sorry, Ms. Drew, but I'm afraid we must be off."

"Actually, Tony," said Carol, placing her hand on his coat sleeve as he started to put it on. "You go on ahead—I'm not very interested in your business, anyway, you know that." She released his arm and he finished pulling on his jacket. "you go on ahead, and I'll call for another car." She gestured to the table. "I've not yet finished my drink."

Tony's eyes went from the drink, to Carol, Jessica, and back to Carol. His eyes narrowed a bit before softening again. "Of course," he said, "but of a shame to waste your drink…"

He left it there, backing out of the table and heading toward the door. Both of the women watched him go.

Then, they were left together in silence. Jessica looked to Carol's shoulder, and quickly took a sip of the wine in front of her. Carol, half-amused, cracked a smile and took a sip of her vodka tonic.

"So," said Carol, stirring her drink with its small straw absentmindedly. "Tell me about the magical and charmed life of a lounge singer. Is it just the same as they show in the pictures?"

Jessica raised an eyebrow. "Like the pictures? Perhaps not as glamorous, I'm afraid."

"I wish I could be disappointed," said Carol. "But that makes you seem much more human, not a set piece from a romance film."

Jessica widened her eyes, and tried to not make it as obvious as it was. She was the inhumanly one? Hardly. "And you, though," she said, "you live the charmed life, don't you? First lady of an empire?" Her thoughts went to Big Tony, who had still so recently vacated the third seat at their table.

Carol's face was set, much less amicable than it had been before. "Big Tony?" she asked. She half-rolled her eyes. "Between us, he's not all that."

"What?"

"He's sincere, I suppose," said Carol, "but I'll give you one guess as to who came up with the 'Big Tony' nickname."

Jessica had to try to stifle a laugh at that, and Carol's set face cracked after a moment as well. They laughed for a bit, and Jessica breathed the final sigh of the laugh and took a sip of her wine. "I'm sorry for laughing," she said, "but the implications of what you just said…"

"I know, it's alright, Jessica—it's okay if I call you by your first name, isn't it?"

"Of course," said Jessica, her heart leaping. "Carol."

Carol grinned. She took a sip of her drink and sat back in her chair. "He really does mean well, but he means well for himself," she said. "And I'm not sure how much he really cares about anyone else around him, truthfully…" Her eyes went down.

"Surely, he cares about you?" Jessica noted the expensive-looking necklace around Carol's neck as evidence of this.

Carol saw her gaze, and put a hand to the lightning-bolt pendant. "Oh, he does," she said, "I suppose…"

Jessica couldn't tell if Carol really wanted to discuss her potential relationship problems. She shifted in her chair and spoke. "So Carol, is it that you do while it's light out?"

To this, Carol grinned, and took a sip of her drink. "Believe it or not," she said, rolling the vodka tonic around in her glass, "I'm in government work."

"Do they know about what company you keep?"

"I try to keep my work and private lives separate," said Carol.

Jessica turned her head, allowing her hair to tumble downward like a waterfall. Her smile was coy. "It's a pity that I don't." She felt her heart was a stone after that, freezing. She shut her eyes, willing herself to be anywhere but where she was currently.

Then, Carol laughed. It was a light laugh, jovial, and when Jessica turned her head back to her companion at the table agonizingly slowly, she found a smile creeping out onto her face as well.

"Aren't I lucky for that?" said Carol, her chest rising and falling in a bit more of a chuckle, under the dazzling lightning bolt.

"My job, at least, gives me access to the finer things," said Jessica, raising her glass toward Carol as if to accentuate her point.

"And what do you do during the city's waking hours?" asked Carol.

"Me?" asked Jessica. "I—I guess, I spend time reading, and exercising—" She broke off, laughing a half-laugh. She pushed some of her hair back over her shoulder. "But I enjoy the feeling of pushing myself, you know?"

"I think I do," said Carol. "Do you work in a gym, or…?"

"A gym, yes," said Jessica. "I know someone—Mr. Barton, is his name—and he runs this place near my apartment. He lets me in there, even though most public gymnasiums like that wouldn't want a 'broad' like me."

"That's kind of him, then," said Carol. Jessica could be wrong, but was her gaze tracing down her arms? There was a little definition there, but now Jessica felt over-conscious of them, and she wondered if she should have confessed to her pastime. She crossed her wrists in her lap.

"It is," agreed Jessica, and took a sip of her wine. The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence, the smoky atmosphere of the Quiet Room pervading. The place had mostly emptied out at this point, but there were a few stragglers other than them, finishing their drinks.

"It's good, being here with you," said Carol. "I mean, I'm happy; I'm comfortable around you." She gave a smile that was not exactly happy. "It's good, for a change."

Jessica felt a warmth within her, and she hadn't had enough wine for that to be the singular cause. "I enjoy your company, as well."

They moved on into pleasantries. Their favorite foods—Jessica enjoyed hearty Italian foods and Carol enjoyed the lighter Mediterranean fare. Their preference of pets—Carol enjoyed cats and Jessica preferred dogs, though neither hated the other, they simply liked theirs a bit more. This moved on into a discussion about how Jessica's least favorite part of living in New York was the rats—she hated rats. Carol laughed, and said she'd had her fair share of rodent traps set up, but she'd never shied away from disposing of them once they were caught. Carol had then inquired about Jessica's accent, and Jessica had explained about how her parents had died just after moving to America when she was very young, and the only thing she really remembered from England was her accent. This made Carol laugh, and they found themselves again in a comfortable silence, most of the Quiet Room emptied around them.

Carol looked at her near-empty glass, where even the ice cubes had all but vacated the base, and sighed. "I supposed I'd best use Tony's credit to get a car home," she said. "After all, Mr. Boltagon is going to want to close this place up at some point tonight."

"I would hate to keep you, then," said Jessica, which felt like something of a lie. Carol flitted her eyelids a bit. "I would hate for you to keep 'Big Tony' waiting."

"I doubt he's realized I haven't followed him yet," said Carol, clutching her glass.

Jessica watched Carol's eyes go down, in contrast the absolute, radiant beauty that came from the rest of her. It wasn't fitting for such a person to feel so down. "Why do you follow him at all, then?" she asked.

Carol raised an eyebrow, and Jessica for a moment wondered if she had overstepped herself. She had come close to Carol, but they were still relatively new acquaintances, and she could have just pushed further into boundaries than she should have. Then, she rebuked herself, reminding herself that she was just saying what needed to be said, for Carol.

"Well," she said, fingers relaxing around the glass, "I suppose I do it for the thrill, really. Something exciting. I've always liked to fly."

"But what if he's not the excitement, really?" asked Jessica. She felt herself becoming bolder, and wished that she wouldn't—she might scare Carol off. "What if he's a tether, keeping you from taking off?"

"He's not unkind," said Carol, "if that's what you're worried about. He just—he isn't really anything at all." She reached across the table for Jessica's hand, and she let her take it. Her hands were soft, and strong. "He takes me here because I suggest it. It's nice, but were it up to him, we would have our drinks in, every night. Were he the one to approach me, well—he wouldn't have bothered."

"So why?" asked Jessica. "Why do you keep on with it? If he's so apathetic when it comes to you?" She squeezed Carol's hand. "You deserve more." She cut herself off before she offered herself up. That would be too strong, and she knew that.

"Thank you, Jessica," said Carol, giving her a smile. She squeezed Jessica's hand briefly before withdrawing her own and wrapping it back around her glass. "I know it's just me complaining, but…" She trailed off. Jessica didn't interrupt her; she let her process what she needed to. Carol drained the last of her drink and placed the glass back on the table. "You said what needed to be said."

Jessica's heart lifted. "I'm glad you think so," said Jessica. She swallowed, her right hand clutching the top of her thigh beneath the table. She looked across the table at Carol, who did not look any better for the conversation they were having. "I will see you tomorrow night, yes?"

"If not tomorrow, then the next night after," said Carol, using a sad smile to make up for the heavy conversation. "And I'll look forward to hearing you as always." She stood and smiled at Jessica one last time before departing to the bar to use the telephone there to call for a car. The car would be under Tony's name, of course, and she would be going home to Mr. Stark.

However, Jessica did not know how long home would be with Mr. Stark for Carol.


Jessica was slightly more nervous for this night's performance than she usually was, because Carol and Mr. Stark hadn't come in the night before, and Carol had said—Carol had promised—that they would be in again soon. She felt something in the pit of her stomach, and she tried to ignore it. She peeked out from behind the curtains and realized, looking at the assembled patrons of the Quiet Room, that she was not looking forward to see the pair of them, but to see just Carol, specifically Carol alone. After their talk the few days earlier, it seemed to Jessica a wild stretch for the two of them to still be going steady.

So if she looked out and saw Carol alone—and of course, it would be Carol, because by her own admission Mr. Stark wouldn't take the initiative to go out on her own—that would mean that she had found herself free of him, and she was open to…

She was open to live her life as a freer woman. Jessica had to remind herself of that. She wasn't going to run straight from Tony's arms into hers. She was a person, with emotions of her own, and all of her decisions had to be made by her. But Jessica would be there for her, in either case.

She felt a tap on her shoulder from one of the waiters. "It's nine o'clock," he said to her, and she nodded. She looked to the band, and they flashed her a smile. She led the way onto the small stage. Jessica saddled up to the microphone, looking out from under smoky lids at those gathered around her. She cracked a smile.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to the Quiet Room. My name is Jessica Drew, and it is my distinct pleasure to be here with you tonight." As she said this, she saw the door to the bar open. In through the door walked Carol Danvers, and for a moment, Jessica forgot that she was supposed to be breathing. She began to turn to her band, to tell them they'd be starting with "Orange Colored Sky," which she thought would give the perfect amount of pep to Carol's mood. Then, she saw Big Tony come in the door immediately after her. Carol allowed him to slip his arm around her waist, and even leaned back into his shoulder, laughing at something that he had said.

Jessica was staring at them, and she realized that she hadn't said anything for a moment, leaving an awkward silence for the people assembled in the lounge. She cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said. "Like I said, welcome to the Quiet Room." She watched as Carol and Mr. Stark, never breaking contact with each other—hands held, arm around waist, her leaning on him…

Jessica didn't even bother to signal to her band. She just began to sing, and she could feel her anger flowing through her voice. "When you walk in the bar, you're dressed like a star…" The band caught up with her, a light beat with small strums from the string instruments. The horns simply sat back in their seats and let her sing. "…rocking your 'eff me' pumps."

Carol looked up to Jessica, still hanging onto Big Tony, as the pair of them approached their table, right in front of the microphone. Jessica thought she could see something hurt there, in her big blue eyes, and the first thought that came to her head was something along the lines of "Good—the message is sinking in."

"With your Gucci bag crew, can't tell who he's looking to." She closed her eyes for a moment, and envisioned what it would be like if Carol had left Big Tony at home. Sure, he would have been upset, but what could he do about it? She was in government work, she had said that, and there was nothing that he could do to her that wouldn't draw suspicion upon him at the same time. If he went forward, telling her superiors that she had been going along with him, that would not be incriminating unless they had something solid on him, and he wouldn't want that to happen. She would be safe, relatively. So why, after what they'd talked about, would she stay with the man?

"'Cause you all look the same, everyone knows your name, and that's your whole claim to fame..." What she was doing was petty, yes, but it got the point across. Carol held her glass in her hand beneath white knuckles, and Jessica wondered if she was about to shatter the whole thing. "Never miss a night, 'cause your dream in life, is to be a footballer's wife."

At the last moment, Jessica had to stop herself from saying "bootlegger" instead of "footballer," and wondered to herself why she held back. Probably because beneath all of this pettiness, she still did care about Carol. She just didn't care enough to stop this musical assault on her character.

"You don't like players, that's what you say…" Jessica made eye contact with Carol now, and Carol looked as angry as she was mortified. Jessica payed no mind to this, raising her eyebrow as she continued: "…but you really wouldn't mind a millionaire." She backed up, leaning the mic with her, as she danced around a bit with her shoulders. "You don't like ballers—they don't do nothing for you, but you'd love a rich man six foot two or taller." She winked back to the players in her band, and the bass player bobbed his head along with the song a little bit. They were enjoying this, not understanding the implications. Jessica half-twirled around the microphone, facing the club again.

"In the morning you're vexed, he's on to the next…" She bopped her hips back and forth a bit, eliciting a "woo!" from the men in the crowd. "…and you didn't even get no taste."

Carol audibly sighed at her front table, and drained the rest of her drink, waving to the waiter for more. Next to her, Big Tony was enjoying the show, nodding along with the song.

"Don't get too upset if they call you a skank…" Her eyes caught Carol's again, and Carol's narrowed. Jessica kept the gaze, not allowing herself to be intimidated by the other woman. "…'cause like the news, every day you get pressed."

Carol stood in her place abruptly, tearing her eyes away from Jessica's. Jessica wasn't sure, but there may have been tears in her eyes. In that moment, Jessica didn't particularly care. They had talked, and they had come to a realization, and she hadn't done it—she had come back to the bar with Big Tony, as affectionate as ever. She was leaving, though—and Jessica wanted to get in her last few jabs. She skipped forward a few verses.

"Don't be mad at me, 'cause you're pushing thirty, and your old tricks no longer work." Carol was almost at the door now, and Jessica could see her bright blonde hair through the crowd, like a beacon. She aimed her anger directly at her, through the microphone. "You should have known from the jump that you always get dumped…" Carol was at the door now, and she turned back to Jessica, her eyes wounded. Mr. Stark for the first time seemed to realized that his girlfriend was no longer by his side, and looked around for her. Jessica looked directly at Carol as she grasped the door handle, tilting the microphone to one side as she sang.

"So dust off your 'fuck me' pumps."

Jessica released the microphone as the band played the final note, and it wobbled back and forth to equilibrium as Carol left the bar, slamming the door behind her. Jessica watched the place where she had left as the light applause customary for the place came to her ears, and her smile slowly faded into a flat line, her red lips pressed together. Mr. Stark had gotten up from his seat, searching out his companion, and Jessica realized what she had done. She turned from the audience to face the band, and held back a tear. After all, she still had the rest of the set.

When she turned back to face the crowd, she could swear she saw Ms. Amaquelin frowning from the side of the stage, but she focused on her job, a smile back on her face even though she felt as if her heart were in her stomach. "Thank you all so much," she said, watching as Big Tony Stark worked his way through the crowd toward the exit. "And I think you'll like this next one." Her smile almost faltered when she signaled to the band and they began to play "Orange Colored Sky." She had hurt Carol. Not for any real reason, but because she had been petty.

"I was walking along, minding my business, when out of an orange colored sky…" She swallowed her shame and tried to get into the peppier song, but it didn't have the same shine it would have, were she singing it for Carol, as she'd initially planned. "Flash! Bam! Alakazam! Wonderful you came by…"

Orange Colored Sky (Lady Gaga Version) - watch?v=G7ozT9nPWps