A/N Thank you all so much for the warm welcome you've given Spidey in this story! I was so worried you'd all think I was cracked for doing it, but I was wrong and glad to be! I hope this chapter makes up for the lack in updates! So sorry about that. I've been super busy.
Also, to those were are wondering, as far as what kind of Spiderman he's going to be it all depends. As far as powers and what movie you're thinking of, he's the "Maguire Spidey." However, don't look entirely to him for this Spiderman. I'll admit it now that this Spidey may be just a little OOC at times.
Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you would please remove your hats for the glorious thanks that need be given to none other than KD SKYWALKER! Without her, I would be lost on many things. She is my wall for bouncing things off of and I love her dearly for it!
Um…I don't know what to say about the length of this chapter…I suppose it might seem intimidating. I'm sorry!
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Late Night Flights
Little stood in her beautiful blue and silver bathroom running a thick-toothed comb through her short curls and talking through a slightly cracked door at the person in her room. She ran her fingers lovingly through the long, luxurious black curls as she appraised her appearance in the mirror. A small grin found its way to her face as she thought back just over ten years to her high school career. She had been the most popular and sought after girl in all of the high school, and it was no wonder why. She was an absolutely stunning sight, wasn't she? With her ivory skin a shock against the flowing black curls, dazzlingly abnormally colored eyes, and a killer athletic body, Little knew that the boys were always panting after as she walked by. She smiled at her reflection as she looked over her figure. Since she was dressed in only a pair of panties and a tank top made it easy for her to gaze upon herself. She ran her fingers first up one leg, than the other. Not a scar or blemish to be found. Her hands traveled up her sides and to her face where she stroked her cheeks proudly. Those three feature-marring scars couldn't be found anywhere. Her bottom lip no longer puckered and her eyebrow was unbroken. As she admired herself vainly in the mirror a masculine voice came floating to her ears.
"Hey, are you coming to bed, or what?"
A wicked grin came to her face as she opened the bathroom door and leaned against the frame seductively. She smiled at the man lying in her bed. He was dressed in only cotton pajama pants. Dangerously low cotton pajama pants. "That all depends, what exactly would I be coming to?"
He smirked at her in that sexy sort of way that only men seem to be able to pull off. His blue eyes gleamed in the darkness as they roamed over her body. "Get over here and find out."
Little grinned at him as she crawled up from the foot of the bed and over his legs to stop and straddle his hips. She ran her fingers tenderly up his chest then along his jaw before clasping behind his neck. "Mr. Barton, you truly are a wonderful sight to behold." She leaned in and pressed a hard, passionate kiss to his lips. It felt so good to kiss him again after their argument then that horrible occurrence at the party. She smiled into the kiss as she felt his strong hands tightly grip her hips. It felt so right to kiss him like this. Just as she was about to lose herself into him and the marvelous kiss she felt a hand on her shoulder. The two hands belonging to Barton were firmly attaching to her panty-line and her own hands were still behind his neck, so who did…?
She turned her head away from Barton's heated kiss to see a second set of blue eyes staring at her. Suddenly, the pressure of the man she was straddling disappeared as she turned to smile at the new figure that was kneeling on her bed behind her.
Peter Parker put his hands on either side of her face and pulled her up to her knees. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips as his hands fell from her jaw down to her waist. The kiss was slow and passionate. There was a feeling of wonder in the exchange. Her eyes fluttered shut as he pushed her backwards onto the bed.
Little laid back, enjoying the moment as his lips left her to travel down her throat and across her collar bone. Her hands ran through his short, messy brown hair as he pressed kiss after kiss along her flesh, occasionally nipping at the pale skin as he went. As his lips came up the other side of her neck there was a strange shift in it all. She wasn't entirely certain what it was until she was kissing him again. This wasn't Peter. Opening her eyes she noticed she was staring at Barton again! It continued just like that for what felt like hours. A strange feeling would go through her and the next thing she knew it was no longer one man, but the other!
She happened to open her eyes just as the strange sensation went through her and stopped the switch. Now both men were beside her and completely oblivious towards the other. While one kissed her the other would lay praise to her neck, shoulders, or chest then they would switch as though it was planned.
Then, as if the veil was lifted, they noticed each other.
"Hey, who the hell—"
"What they hell are you—"
"My girlfriend—"
"No! My girl—"
Little woke up with a gasp as she shot upright in bed. Her eyes quickly scanned the room for sign of the testosterone fueled men from her rather arousing dream. Taking a shaky breath she drew her knees to her chin and looked out the window into the starry night sky. The time didn't matter to her. She tried to think of what that dream was telling her. She had enjoyed both of their lavish affections, but the moment they realized they weren't alone things turned ugly. She pressed her forehead against her knees and curled tighter. What had Peter been doing in her dream any way? His girlfriend even? She had only met him a couple days ago and now she was dreaming of him putting his hands on her body in ways that even Barton hadn't quite done to that extent. That was another thing! What the hell was Barton doing in her dream anyway? She was done with him…right? Maybe he was only in her dream because he and Romanoff had gotten back earlier that day. Tossing the blankets off of her, and accidentally throwing Ember in the process, she got out of bed and went to the bathroom. Flipping on the light she looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.
Little frowned.
Her ivory skin was still nice, but marred in countless places by scars that may never completely heal. The three on her face she was certain would never fade. The scars littered her arms and legs from either her surgeries or just the cuts that occurred in her fall. Her fingers danced up one leg than the other, tracing the pinky-red scars there. Occasionally she would come across a scar that had begun to turn white and blend in a little better with her skin. After her legs she traced the thick scar on the inside of her upper arm. She could feel the puckering of the damaged muscle beneath and frowned. It took all she had but she tore her eyes away from her scars and looked at her hair. It was still short and sticking up all around her head from sleeping. There was even a long scar she could see on her scalp that split her hair in a strange and diagonal fashion she knew would never change.
Another frown came to her face.
In her dream she had thought back to her high school years and what a babe she had been then. Now…Now she wasn't so sure of that. Pretty? Well, yes, she was alright to look at. As gorgeous as she used to be? Hardly! It seemed that after twenty-nine years her sister was finally the prettier twin. Little left her bathroom and the slightly depressing image that looked back at her. She needed to get out. She hadn't left the Tower since the day she met Peter and that small dose of freedom had creating an itch that needed scratching. Little snatched up a pair of pants and a rather special blue hoodie from where they were hanging over the arm of her chair. Once they were on she quietly exited her room, shutting the door gently to make sure no one would wake up or hear her.
"Mrrow!"
Little froze and turned on her toes to stare through the darkness at Ember. She held a finger to her lips. "Hush, Baby. I'll be back by morning. I promise."
Ember blew a breathy sneeze at her mama before turning and walking back into bedroom with her tail held high.
The woman didn't move until she heard the kitten settle back on the bed. Breathing a silent sigh she continued to tip-toe down the hall. She knew there was no way out on this floor. Her special window was downstairs where Tony claimed it was broken and wouldn't shut completely. Thanks, Tony, you're a lifesaver. Everyone there pretty much knew what the window was for; it was no big secret since he made the announcement and stared at Little the entire time. As she took the stairs down a level she ran her fingers through her short haired, a rather painful and futile attempt to rid it of knots.
She opened the door to the living area slowly and peeked around. A sigh left her as she noticed a clock for the first time. It was a little after midnight. No one should be awake. Despite this, she continued to tip-toe across the floor and towards the community phone attached to the wall. Grabbing the phone she quickly tapped in Peter's number. She had called him a few times already after meeting to chat. Her thumb hovered over the call button, but she stopped. Maybe…Maybe it's just far too late to call…She shook her head. She needed someone to talk to and for some reason he was the only one she wanted to talk to.
Little pressed send.
Holding the phone to her ear she listened to the ringing. A frown came to her face as she realized he probably wasn't going to pick up. She'd just have to talk it out with Ember and that was always a pain in the a—
"Hello?"
She sighed in relief. "Hey, Pete. I…uh…I hope I didn't wake you."
He chuckled. "No, I just got in from…work."
She smirked. "So that means you're home, right? Mind if I take you up on that offer of swinging by?"
"You know, that sounds good actually. I'll make coffee and this time I won't spill it on you."
Little couldn't help but give a little giggle. "Alright. I'll see you in a few, Pete."
"See yah soon, Jo."
After hanging up the phone she turned on her heel and strode over to the "broken" window with a smile. She wrapped her fingers around the edge of the window and gave a tug.
"So, who's Pete?"
She stopped.
Little whipped around to see Barton sitting on the couch, looking rather tired and relaxed while also seeming agitated. She swallowed hard. "Why aren't you sleeping in your room like a normal person?"
His eyes narrowed at her. "Do you make it a habit to question the sleeping habits of someone you're not dating? Back to my question, now: Who's Pete?"
Her eyes narrowed in return. "Do you make it a habit of questioning the social life of someone you're not dating?" With that, she yanked open the window and climbed out into the cold night air. She shifted into an owl and wheeled in the direction of Peter's apartment. She knew the city well, having lived in the area for years of her life, and recalled the building that he had put down on the paper. Her wings carried her away as fast as she could manage without seeming conspicuous to those on the streets below. She didn't care for the bright lights and splendor that was New York City at night. The majesty of the city that never sleeps had long since worn off on her. As she neared the rather rundown looking area she swooped low to get a better look at the buildings. There! She gave a low hoo! as she spotted her destination. In a flurry of flapping wings she landed on a balcony so small she wondered if more than two people could even fit on it. Upon landing she looked around to make sure no eyes were on her feathery form before shifting back into a human. As she pulled the hoodie tighter about her, Little peered through the glass and could just make out Peter's form through a doorway into what looked like the world's tiniest kitchen. She brought her knuckles down gently on the glass door before her.
With a small bang! and a muttered swear Peter left the kitchen wiping a dish towel over the front of his shirt. Going to the front door of the apartment, he stuck his head out. "Jo?"
Nothing.
He frowned. He must have been hearing things.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
He spun on his heel to follow the sounds and chuckled. Walking over to the sliding door he unlocked it and slid it open. "You can't be normal and use the stairs or even a front door?"
Little smiled at him, but suddenly her dream came to the front of her mind and she broke eye contact. "Yes, but the look on your face when you thought you'd been hearing things was priceless." Her nose twitched as she noticed the large brown stain on his shirt. Coffee. "Won't spill it on me, but yourself?"
Peter looked down and shrugged. "It was quiet until I heard the knocking. You surprised me." Stepping aside, he held out an arm to invite her in so he could stop the cold from completely overtaking his apartment. As she walked in he couldn't help but feel a little inadequate. His place wasn't just small, it was tiny. The main room could be crossed in less than ten short strides and was home to both an old sofa and his kitchen table. The kitchen was half the size of it with no real counter-space to speak of. Oh, Lord…He hoped she never asked to use the bathroom…The best he could say about the apartment was that the bedroom and living room were actually the same size. However, nothing could hide the controlled mess. Hey, free-lance photography wasn't the highest paying gig out there and he didn't really get a weekly paycheck for his other profession. "I'm gunna go change my shirt real quick. Make yourself at home. Sorry it's so crowded and a mess."
"It's fine." She smiled as she started to mosey about the small room. "Be sure to ring out your shirt. We might be able to get a whole mug of coffee out of it."
He just shook his head with a little chuckle as he walked into his room, not bothering with the door. It wasn't like he was getting naked or anything.
Little's bright eyes followed him as she tried to make it less obvious she was watching him. She saw his discard the soiled shirt and her brow rose. Seems my subconscious wasn't that far off…Peter had a nice torso. He was leaner than Barton, but still muscled. Again, the dream came to her mind and she was glad the room wasn't that well lit because she could feel her cheeks burning. Turning her eyes away from his form she studied a picture on the small bookshelf. It was of an elderly couple looking happy as they sat at an old kitchen table. They were smiling happily and making Little feel guilty about her rather impure thoughts.
"My aunt and uncle before he died."
She jumped and gave a little squeak of surprise. "Wear a bell, Damnit!"
Peter laughed and nodded towards the kitchen. "How about that coffee?" As he poured them each a mug, he couldn't help but wonder at something. "So, why the late-night call? Am I about to become your personal booty call?"
Little laughed as she took her mug and settled onto the worn, but comfortable sofa. "I…uh…I guess I needed someone to talk to."
He lounged at the other end and took a drink of the hot liquid. "Well, I'm all ears."
She ran a finger over the top of the mug and tried to think of how to word it all. To hell with that. She had always been better at being blunt. "I had a dream that Clint and I were back together…I think. We were in bed about to…enjoy ourselves when suddenly you were there and he was gone! Than you and I…yeah…almost, anyways. Suddenly, Clint was back and you were gone. It flip-flopped like that for a bit until you were both there. You didn't seem to notice each other at first but then you saw each other. You argued over me for a moment before I woke up. What was worse was that in the dream I looked how I used to. Before my crash landing I wasn't all scarred up and my hair was longer. I guess you could say I was actually a gal two guys would fight over." She stared into the nearly black liquid, holding the mug with both hands. "I don't know what to make of it. I can assume Clint was in my dream because he came back earlier today…yesterday? Whatever. Anyway, but you being in my dream is what threw me."
Peter's eyes looked like tea saucers. "Oh…Well…Um…" He set his mug aside and rubbed the back of his neck. This was a rather compromising situation. He looked over at her. She was barefoot, wearing a pair of old looking jeans, and his hoodie. Her hair looked crazier than the first time he saw her, but it seemed that was from it having been slept on. "C'mere."
She looked up at his and ran a hand through her messy hair, wincing slightly as a finger caught a knot. Setting her own mug aside she scooted over to the seat between them.
He grabbed her by the face and locked eyes with her. "First off, if you ask me, you are the kinda girl two guys would fight over. You look great for a chick who was in a coma…uh…sorry I forgot how long ago you said that was."
"About four months ago."
"Right, back to what I was saying. I'm no shrink, but if you ask me—which you are—the dream was obviously you having issues trying to figure out what's left of your feelings for Clint and whatever connection we have based on our meeting. Fair enough?"
She smiled weakly and brought up a hand to grasp one of his wrists. "Fair enough." She then noticed just how close their faces were. Would just one itty bitty kiss hurt anyone here? She bit her lip in thought before leaning in and pressing a swift kiss to his lips. "Thanks, Pete."
He smiled at her as she pulled away. "You're welcome, I guess."
Little sat back and retrieved her coffee, thankful once more for the less than adequate lighting. She smiled into her mug as she took a sip. "So, tell me Mr. Parker, what's it like being the infamous SpiderMan?"
He leaned back in his seat and chuckled. "It's got some perks. So long as I'm in the red an' blue I don't have to hoof it or bother with traffic. It does suck, though, when your own boss has tried to make you look bad." He took another drink. "My turn. Tell me, Miss Little, what's it like being a born-and-bred superhero instead of the garden-variety spider-created ones like myself? Also, when you do turn where do your clothes go?"
She tossed her head slightly as she laughed. "I'm not a superhero, Pete. I'm a mutant. Mutant and proud, actually. And, to answer your question, there are pros and cons to it. So long as no one sees me shifting I never have to take a taxi or drive anywhere. However, the con to that is that no one is allowed to see me outside of those who know what I am. As far as my clothes, I've never really known. I know most everything I wear just sorta melts into me or something…Jewelry doesn't stick. Eyewear doesn't stay. Hmm…I've never had my ears pierced, so I wouldn't know about that." She nodded as though confirming her words. "Anyway, another downside is since I gained my shifting abilities before I was sixteen I actually never learned how to drive. The agency I work for usually has all of these specific things agents have to be able to do. We have to be able to drive any ground vehicle and, if we want, we can learn to fly the jets. Well, the boss made an exception for me since I don't have to worry about a mode of transportation most of the time. Anyway, it also kinda sucks that the majority of the human race don't like mutants, but I was born this way and I can't change that. You would understand that, though, right? Yeah, you can go swinging around the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty, but you've gotta be masked."
"You make a good point. It'd be nice if I didn't have to wear it sometimes." He laughed aloud. "God! It's horrible sometimes! I can't wear underwear because it chaffs like a bitch an—"
She grinned wickedly. "Oooh, Spidey goes commando? Ever thought of doing a Superhero Strip-Tease?"
He rolled his eyes. "You're hilarious. It can get pretty stuffy in there, too."
It was just more material for her to work with. "So commando and all hot and sweaty? You really know how to make a girl's day, Pete."
"Don't make me dump the pot of coffee over your head."
She narrowed her eyes with a smirk. "I'd just give you a big ol' hug then we'd both be covered in coffee. Also, I am wearing your hoodie right now."
He rolled his eyes. "Please, by now you've probably sprayed it with perfume and claimed it as yours by wearing it all the time."
"I don't wear perfume. It still smells like you even if I do wear it daily." She realized what she said and blushed.
Pete grinned and pointed an accusing finger in her direction. "So, you wear it daily?"
She sniffed and put her nose in the air. "The Tower can get pretty drafty with everyone uses the stairwell and elevator all day." She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look. "And I did offer to give it back, if you recall."
He laughed and held up his hands in defense. "Alright, alright, point taken."
The night continued in a similar fashion of them making jokes at one another or trying—and failing—to hide a simple truth for the fun of it well into the early morning. Little ended up falling asleep on his couch during their conversation about what kind of mythological creature would make the best pet. Peter thought he had won when she stopped insisting that owning an alicorn would be so much cooler than being the master to a three-headed dog. He started to gloat until he realized her eyes were closed and she seemed to be slumping over to the side. Peter grinned and stood carefully before readjusting her as best he could so that she was lying on her side. He grabbed the old blanket off the back of the couch and tossed it haphazardly over her. After that was done he went into his room and crashed onto his bed with a heavy thud! He stayed there for a moment, fully dressed and not caring, until he was compelled to look at the alarm clock to see how long he had until he needed to be up for work. He groaned. It was precisely two hours and sixteen minutes until his alarm would go off. Damn…Lucky for him that their coffee had been decaf because he fell asleep almost instantly after that.
REE! REE! REE! REE!
Peter groaned as he rolled over onto his back. He needed a new alarm where the radio wasn't broken. It was better than waking up to the ear-splitting screech. With a heavy sigh he sat up and almost bumped his nose against the white mug being held near his face. When he jumped at the sight he almost knocked it out of the hand holding it.
Little smiled at him. "Thanks for the blanket. Coffee?"
He took the cup and rubbed his face. "To quote you: wear a bell, damnit!"
She just smiled and sat on the edge of the bed beside him. "I'll buy you one for Christmas seeing as how that's only a couple days away." She sipped at her own mug of the delicious nectar. "Well, you probably have work to go to and I should get back before the captain flips shit. Last time I got out he yelled at me like he was my mother. I'm almost scared to see how he'll react to my leaving in the middle of the night."
Peter stood and set his coffee on the nightstand while he slowly began to get ready. Two hours was far from enough time to have enough sleep to deal with J. Jonah Jameson all day… "Is it already that close to Christmas?"
She nodded. "MmHmm. What's better is I haven't gotten anything for anyone I live with except for Bruce. He's easy to shop for, though. Maybe along with a bell I'll buy you a replacement hoodie."
He raised a brow at her. "Do you really intend on buying me things?"
She laughed. "Not at all. Stark does the buying. He gives us each a personal spending limit per month that allows us to get what we need." She stood and walked out of the room so he could finish getting ready for the day. Out of curiosity she dug through her pockets to see if she had any cash or even her little paycard that Stark had provided her with. Huzzah! She smiled as she pulled the blue card in her hand. Thank goodness for her bad habit of forgetting to empty her pockets each night! Perhaps she would stop somewhere on her way back to the Tower and get that bell.
"Alright, well I should be going."
She turned on her heel and gave him a little smile. "Yeah, me too. I'll see you soon?"
Pete walked over to her and gave her a smile. "Just give me a call."
They parted after a quick hug and made their way to their chosen exits. As little pulled open the sliding glass door she was stopped by his voice.
"Hey, Jo? What are…we?"
She turned and gave him a look and a shrug. "I don't really know. Would no labeling it work for you?"
He thought it over for a moment or two. No labels could mean no major commitments and having to make dates and events. No labels could make things much, much easier. He nodded. "No labels is it."
Little just smiled in response before stepping onto the balcony. After shutting the door she shifted into a pigeon and fluttered away from his apartment building. If she could force her little beak to reform into a smiling one like in the cartoons she would have been grinning from ear to ear. She chirped happily as she made her way back to the Tower. As she flew she saw a vendor below selling hoodies. Wheeling down she stopped in an empty alley to shift before pulling up the hood on her own coat and approaching the man. Luckily he was a more advanced booth that took cards. She bought a dark red hoodie, mostly because it was her favorite color. As she walked away she noticed she wasn't too far from the Tower and could walk the rest of the distance. When she approached the base of the building she found a good hiding spot and pulled on the second coat before shifting and flying up to the penthouse balcony. She slipped into the building unseen and went over to the stairwell. Once on the Suite floor she padded over to her room and slipped inside, still unseen. She hoped that everyone was either still asleep or just downstairs and that no one noticed she was missing. With a heavy sigh she fell into bed after discarding the two hoodies and snuggled up to a pillow. As Ember hopped up to curl up beside her she fell asleep, exhausted.
Downstairs, some of the group sat around the table enjoying breakfast and coffee or tea depending. They all heard the quiet opening and shutting of doors and light footsteps. If there was one flaw in Stark Tower it was that any thing weighing over fifty pounds that walked around could easily be heard on the floor below.
Barton was amongst that group. He frowned deeply. "Well, she's back."
Rogers jumped on the information. "Little? She left again? Where'd she go? Do you know? How'd she get out?"
Everyone stared at the captain with almost terrified looks on their faces.
"Uh…I don't know where she went, but she left a little after midnight to go meet some," Barton had to force himself not to growl out the next word, "guy named Pete. She left through the broken window." He looked over to Tony who was nursing a mug of coffee. "Why don't we just admit that Stark rigged the window so she could get out?"
The billionaire's eyebrows shot open. "Excuse me? Me? Disobey a direct order from Fury? I'm surprised that you would insinuate such a thing." Sticking his nose in the air he stomped off.
Banner was sitting at the table with his usual cup of tea and a newspaper. "I think it's better to let her get out than keep her locked up. If we kept her caged she'd probably flip shit and try to kill half of us. Though this time I think she'd pick something a little deadlier than a bear."
Barton and Rogers stared at the rather nonchalant man sipping at his mug.
The captain was the first to snap. "Are you crazy! She's already gotten in enough trouble as it is!"
Barton wanted to agree with the scientist, but due to still being rather peeved with her for the way she spoke to him the night before made him side with Rogers. "Yeah! Who knows what's she's doing?"
Banner took another slow sip of tea. "The answer is simple, then. If you don't trust her, be the spy or whatever you're trained to be and follow her." He folded the paper and set his now empty cup by the sink. "I've got tests to run."
The two watched as Banner went to the elevator and disappeared. Turning to look at one another they shared a glance. It was decided. Barton would follow Little the next time she skipped out.
He didn't have to wait long.
The next night, a day before Christmas Eve, he was sitting in the living room watching a late night movie due to a sudden bout of insomnia when the door from the stairwell opened. Turning he saw her stride boldly over to the supposedly broken window and pull it open. It was as though she hadn't even seen him. Perfect. As she climbed out the window he jumped to his feet and went to the opening. He watched the feathery figure fly off into the distance. Luckily she didn't wheel around to the other side of the building where he might lose her. Barton thanked Stark for having one of the tallest (if not the tallest) buildings in all of New York City and whoever might be up there for gifting him with incredible eyesight. It made it easy to follow her form as she flapped high over the rooftops. He mentally noted how many streets out she was when she finally dove downward. When he had figured out his plan of action he ran to the stairs and jogged all the way down. His adrenaline was too high for such a long descent to shake him. When he hit the lobby floor his feet carried him out the door.
Barton wove through the busy city streets, looking up occasionally and picturing a phantom Little flying overhead to assist him in his walk. It was a fair distance, but nothing his jealousy couldn't push him into walking. He found the street and began to walk its length in the hopes of finding some clue as to where she was. At this point he was going completely blind, but this wasn't the first mission of his to turn out like that. No, he would figure it out or just find a nice rooftop and wait for her to emerge from any one of the buildings.
Luck was on Barton's side that night. He couldn't help but think that it was almost trying to get him to find the woman. As he walked he heard a rather distinct laugh and tilted his head back to look up. He quickly dashed across the street and hid in an alley. Four floors above him and standing on a rather tiny balcony was Little herself. She was smiling in the light of the lamps and moon with a man beside her. The jealousy he had only felt hints of since their big fight and the party resurfaced with a vengeance. At the party he knew she was purposely trying to piss him off, but here where she had no clue he was watching her made it obvious that this behavior was real. He watched with a heavy frown as the man beside her put an arm around her shoulders and said something that made her laugh happily. Somewhere deep in the SHIELD agent's mind there was another version of him that told him to back off because they weren't dating. Right beside that version there was a little him screaming that no one makes her laugh like that except him! Barton continued to glare up at the rather happy looking couple, wondering why on Earth she was meeting him so late at night. Was it because she could sneak out easier at night? Hell, she could sneak out whenever with her powers. Was it because this was a booty call? And if so, who was calling who? The thought of killing this man for even daring to put a rather sensitive male appendage anywhere near his Kaleigh, but he wouldn't until he was positive that was the case.
That's it. I'm bringing my bow next time!
Barton watched and suppressed a grumble as the couple on the balcony shared a small, feather light kiss after she handed him some sort of coat. The only solace he could find was that it didn't appear that they were in the makings of sucking each other's faces. He didn't know if he would be able to stand such a sight…Barton decided he couldn't stand anymore of this anyway. He left his hiding spot in the alley and began the return trip to the Stark Tower with this new information in mind. In a jealous thought he couldn't help but imagine forcing Little into a real lockdown just so she couldn't see this Pete fellow. As he walked home at a steady, focused pace there was something inside him that cracked just a little. His sanity was intact, but his pride had taken a hearty blow. Shoving his hands in his pockets he tried to step the urge to take out his jealous anger on the first thing that came within arms reach. That would just have to wait until tomorrow when he would pretend every single target he shot at, every punching bag he hit, or every bug he decided to squish was Pete.
A/N Longest chapter ever in the history of all my fanfictions. Oh. My. Gosh. I really wanted all that happened to happen and I hope that the extraordinary length didn't put any of you off your tea!
I hope you liked it!
As always, like it? Love it? Review it! Pretend this story has a bumper sticker that reads "How am I writing? Review!"
