Chapter Thirty-One – I Choose Him

JARVIS correctly interpreted that they would want to go to his apartment, and the doors opened a few seconds later. Clint and Jen nearly fell through them, clutching at each other, kissing fiercely.

"Knock it off, mate," a deep voice rumbled.

"Oh God, not again," Clint lifted his head to see Jen's brother and Darcy Lewis waiting outside his door.

"I tried to talk him out of it this time, I swear!" Darcy said. "I came to try and help." And she deliberately put herself between Clint and Jacques. "I owe you an apology," she said over her shoulder to Clint, "and more besides. So make a move and you get a shot of this." She pulled her trusty Taser and waved it at Jacques.

"Darce!" Jacques said, outraged. "You said you wouldn't interfere."

"I lied." She smiled sweetly, and a grin slowly came across his face.

"Bad girl."

"So punish me."

"Maybe I will." Jacques snapped himself out of the spell of Darcy's flirting with an obvious effort and glared at Clint again. "Still, Barton, I can't let you endanger Jen…"

"Enough!" Jen snapped. Pulling free of Clint's arms, she stepped forward to face her brother, gently moving Darcy to one side. "I'm not five. Or even fifteen. I'm twenty-five and I make my own decisions."

Jacques glared silently, his dark eyes snapping, his fists still clenched.

"And I choose him."

For a long moment, there was an awful, frozen silence. And then Jacques groaned and put his arms around Jen, hugging her tightly. Darcy slipped back to stand by Clint.

"It's gotta be a tough gig when your baby sister grows up and runs off with an Avenger," she said sympathetically. Clint found himself smiling.

"You and Jacques, eh?" he said.

"Yeah," Darcy gave him a slightly goofy smile. "He's a nice guy. Not a thug." Clint grinned at the description. She was a sweet kid really, he thought, if lacking somewhat in impulse control. Jacques would take care of her.

With his newly enhanced hearing, Clint could hear Jen murmuring reassurances to her brother, telling him that she was a big girl now and she loved him for looking out for her, but he needed to let her live her own life.

"He's a good man. The best. And seriously, the worst that's going to happen is that I will be smarter and stronger and better able to look out for myself, and if you don't want that for me I will kick you in the head."

It took a good while, but eventually Jacques let go of Jen and came over to Clint, offering his hand to shake.

"Take care of her."

"Always," Clint replied with total sincerity. "You take care of Darcy."

"She'd Tase me if I didn't. Will you put it away, girl? You're making me nervous."

Darcy grinned, put her Taser back in her pocket and slipped her hand into Jacques'. They stepped into the still-open elevator and were gone a moment later.

And then it was just Clint and Jen, all alone in the hallway outside his room.

"Well," Clint said after a moment when they just stared at each other, "come on in, I guess."

The door was keyed to his fingerprint: a light brush against the panel and it swung open. Clint looked around almost curiously. He'd hardly spent any time here, and apparently for the last few days he'd been strapped to a table anyway. And then he blinked. The room looked – different. Brighter. He recognised the throw over the couch: it was the patterned one that had been in Jen's old apartment. There were pictures up on the walls and her drafting table in the corner.

"You moved in?" he looked around, a bit bemused.

"I hope you don't mind. I – I wanted to be close to you, and they wouldn't let me see you, and this was the only place where I had any sense of your presence…" Jen's words came out rushed, and he pressed a finger to her lips gently.

"Darlin', I'm delighted."

Jen smiled, her confidence restored, and ran her hands lightly up his bare chest. "Do you have any idea how distracted I've been, trying to think clearly and ask sensible questions when all this delicious male muscle is on display?"

Clint smirked and deliberately flexed his biceps as he raised his hands to put them on her waist. "No. Did you want to see any more?"

"All of it." Her fingers unknotted the drawstring of his sweatpants. He'd had to cinch them in tight as Bruce apparently had a thicker waist than him and they were a bit loose. "I want to see all of you. All the scars that made you who you are, especially if Loki's right and they're going to fade. I want you to tell me about them, Hawk." She smiled up at him, and he caught his breath at the sultry promise in her curved lips. "Later." And she sank to her knees in front of him, pushing the sweatpants down, and took his arousal in her hands, leaning forward and licking lightly at his tip.

"Ahhh," his head tipped back, and he had to put one hand on the wall beside him to brace himself. "Jen." Her mouth was hot and clever, light licks and sucks at first, and then she took his cock deep into her throat, her cheeks hollowing. "Jeez, you need to stop or I'm not gonna be able to give you any fun. Again," he choked out, though he was seeing stars behind closed eyelids.

"You don't like it?" she almost pouted. Licking him like he was the most delicious ice cream and she wanted to savour every bit.

"Oh, I like it. But your mouth isn't where I want to come right now." Very reluctantly, he drew back from her, and stooped, catching her under the arms and raising her to stand. "Beautiful woman. How come I'm naked and you're still fully dressed?"

She grinned cheekily at him. "No change there from the last few days, Hawk."

He grimaced, not particularly wanting to be reminded of that, and kicked off the sweatpants tangled around his ankles. "Well, then, I demand equality. I want hours of getting to look at you in the nude. I still haven't mapped every inch of this delectable body of yours."

Jen smiled, stepped into him, and pushed him on the chest. "Sit down then, lover. I'll give you a nice thorough unveiling."

Does she mean a striptease? Please let her mean a striptease. Clint let Jen push him back to sit down on the couch, running his eyes over her hungrily. She was wearing those old, soft blue jeans he adored on her, cute black boots with a little heel, and a dark brown suede jacket over a pale green tank top. Her hair was pulled up in that tight French braid she usually wore, though it was beginning to escape around the edges. She wore very little makeup, if any, he thought. Indeed, he'd never seen her with much makeup. She didn't need it, her skin was pale and near-flawless, her lashes thick and dark, her blue eyes striking without the need for enhancement.

She was lovely. And she was his. He could hardly breathe with the need to grab her, to take her, but he had to let Jen do this her way.

A/N Soundtrack for this chapter:

Go Your Own Way: Fleetwood Mac

Tonight And The Rest Of My Life: Nina Gordon

Accidentally In Love: Counting Crows