Chapter 43

Skye would probably have convinced Steve to go fetch condoms and then stay in bed with her for the rest of the day, except that JARVIS relayed an invitation (worded rather firmly) from Pepper Potts for her to attend a 'girls' lunch' in the penthouse. And in all honesty – well, she was sore. A break would do her good. And she could almost see Jemma bouncing excitedly on her toes demanding to know how things had gone with Steve. That is, if Jemma hadn't overheard – pulling on a clean pair of jeans, Skye blushed as she thought about just how much noise she and Steve had been making.

Although the apartments were supposed to be soundproof, weren't they? And it was only Steve's super-soldier hearing that had enabled him to overhear Clint and Jemma…

Of course, the fact that she was terminally bow-legged would have given her away anyway, Skye mused, as she exited the elevator into the penthouse and was met with knowing grins from all the other women. Jane Foster looked particularly sympathetic. Well, the size difference between Jane and Thor was even more marked than that between Steve and Skye, although Skye wondered… no, she was not going to start speculating about the relative size of Steve and Thor's penises, good God, she had sex on the brain.

Skye plopped into a dining chair, pleased to find it cushioned, and accepted the glass of champagne Pepper handed her, smiling up at the tall redhead.

"Sorry to drag you girls out of your love nests," Pepper said to Skye and Jemma with a twinkle in her eye, "believe me, I know what it's like to have a superhero shagging you senseless, but you two are starting to walk a bit bow-legged and I thought you could use a respite."

"A bit?" Natasha fake-coughed into her glass.

"And besides," Pepper gave Natasha a stern look, "just think how happy they'll be to see you when I send you back!" She frowned, surveying the table. "Someone's missing – oh, it's Darcy. JARVIS, where's Darcy?"

"On her way now, Ma'am," JARVIS replied urbanely. And just then Darcy came rushing out of the elevator, babbling apologies for being late. They all stared at her. Her dark hair was wildly tangled, her lips swollen and red, and there appeared to be about fifteen hickeys on her neck.

"Darcy, what have you been doing?" Pepper said in surprise.

"Uh, Fitz and I…" Darcy took in Jemma and Skye's astonished stares. "What?"

"Fitz?" Jemma said, pure shock in her voice, staring at Darcy's neck.

Darcy turned up the collar of her blouse, stuck her nose in the air and sat down at the table. "Y'know what, just your tone of voice says you aren't going to believe me."

"Darcy, stop teasing them. It was the monkey, wasn't it? Darcy has a pet monkey," Jane told Jemma, who grinned in sudden understanding.

"Actually," Darcy helped herself to champagne and smiled smugly around the table, "Watson has been asleep all morning."

Jemma looked at Skye. Who looked at May, who was failing completely to keep her inscrutable May-face on.

"Good for Fitz," Natasha was the one who spoke in the end.

Pepper smiled. "Well said, Natasha. Darcy, would you fill Jemma's glass, since you have the bottle? Thank you." She expertly steered the conversation into less dangerous waters, chatting about New York, the Tower facilities, good nearby restaurants and other things they might be interested in seeing. Jane started talking science to Jemma after a bit and Skye finally got her chance to pick Natasha's brain on hacking techniques.

They were finishing up the fifth bottle of champagne when JARVIS interrupted apologetically.

"Excuse the interruption, Miss Potts, but Director Coulson is on the line with an urgent call for Agent May."

May considered herself on call, in case she had to fly, and hadn't been drinking. She exchanged a quick glance with Skye and Jemma. "Could I take the call privately somewhere please, Pepper?"

Pepper rose, still graceful even after the best part of a bottle of champagne, and in five-inch heels. "Of course. This way." She escorted May to a door.

May returned five minutes later, her face grim. "I'm sorry to break up the party, and even sorrier to wreck the weekend," she said, "but we have to go. There's a situation. JARVIS, please alert Fitz. Skye, Jemma – twenty minutes."

"One moment." Pepper stood, went to the bar and poured two shot glasses full of something a pale bluish colour. "Drink this, girls. You'll feel vile for a minute or two and then you'll be stone-cold sober."

"Better had," Skye said glumly, taking a glass. She toasted Jemma with it. "Cheers!"

Pepper was right, it was foul. Jemma coughed, eyes watering for a moment, but then her head miraculously cleared. "Oooh. Could I have a sample of that for analysis, please?"

"I'll have Bruce send you the formula. He came up with it to sober Tony up for times when they really needed Iron Man. Not that Tony really drinks these days, but, well – I've used it myself a time or two." Pepper smiled.

"You're very lovely, thank you," Skye impulsively reached up and kissed her cheek.

"Why thank you, Skye! Now run and pack and say goodbye, and do not let those sexy men of yours tempt you back into bed. Difficult though it may be to resist." Pepper twinkled at them again.

"I packed your stuff," Clint was waiting for Jemma when she stepped out of the elevator into his apartment. The doors swished shut on Skye's grin. "So we have ten minutes…"

"We are not going back to bed for ten minutes!"

"I didn't say anything about the bed, Jemma. That was you." He folded his arms, showing off his biceps. And a lot of other muscles, since he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"That's not fair," she gulped, unable to stop staring.

"Nor was it fair that you put on that cute little dress and went to lunch without me, and now you're leaving before I got to carry out the plans I had for this afternoon. Now come the fuck over here."

Jemma had worn the dress in anticipation that Clint would like it and want to take it off her afterwards. She really hadn't thought that he'd just shove her up against the wall, yank the skirt up, rip her panties off with a twist of his strong wrists and slam two fingers deep inside her as his mouth slanted over hers.

It was the first time Clint had ever seen her wear an actual dress. And it was such a Jemma sort of dress, with a knee-length flared skirt and a pattern of tiny white polka-dots over a navy-blue background, a boat-shaped neckline showing off her slender white neck and shoulders, a scarlet ribbon emphasizing her small waist. She'd paired it with navy kitten heels with a tiny white bow, and he couldn't begin to describe the effect the conservative, yet pretty outfit had on him. He'd practically salivated as she walked out of the bathroom wearing it, and only some very stern words from Jemma had convinced him to let her go to lunch.

And now he had to let her leave for real, but she wasn't going until he'd had her, until he'd put marks of his possession on her pale skin, filled her up with his seed and made damn sure any other man she encountered today would smell him on her and know she was his.

Jemma panted and squirmed on Clint's fingers. He usually liked to take his time with her, not that he wasn't sometimes rough, and she did very much like it when he was – but this almost frantic urgency was new. And really very exciting. She willingly wrapped her legs around his waist when he hoisted her up, sank her nails into his biceps as he plunged slowly deep.

"Fuck, you're tight," Clint groaned, nipping at Jemma's soft throat. "Didn't get you ready enough, did I? You all right, sweetheart?"

"Don't you dare stop now, Clinton," she panted.

He smiled, grasped her hips and set up a brutal, driving rhythm, loving the way she screamed his name and clawed at him, her heels digging into his ass. And when she came, convulsing hard on him, he shouted her name before letting go himself, slamming as deep as he could and spurting hard into her welcoming heat.

JARVIS pinged discreetly. "Dr Simmons…"

"Yes," Jemma panted out as Clint eased from her and set her gently on her feet, his hands on her waist to steady her.

"Miss Skye has just called for the elevator. Shall I stop it to collect you on the way up?"

"Yes. Can you give me a minute?" Jemma's hands were shaking. Clint kissed her once, hard, dragging his sweatpants back up, and then went to his room and returned with her bag, silently holding out a pair of clean panties. The pair he'd shredded off her, he picked up and put in his pocket without the slightest hint of remorse as she stepped into the fresh ones.

"I don't like this," Clint pulled Jemma into his arms suddenly. "I know you can't tell me why you've been called back…"

"May didn't even tell us," Jemma protested.

"Look, I just have a bad feeling. My gut's kept me alive all these years, I've learned to trust it when I feel something bad is coming. Promise me, if something goes wrong and you think your team are out of their depth, you'll call me?"

Jemma hesitated.

"I'm not trying to interfere. But it would kill me if I lost you now, Jemma." His eyes were piercing, more grey than blue as he stared at her, trying to make her understand. "Promise. If the shit goes bad and you need backup? Call me."

"I promise," Jemma said, unable to deny that look in his eyes. The doors dinged open and Clint let her go with one last kiss, handing her bag over. She stepped into the elevator beside Skye, unable to look at him as the doors slid closed.

Skye looked at Jemma's messy hair and creased dress and her eyes widened. "You didn't," she said disbelievingly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jemma said innocently. And then she saw her reflection in the elevator's mirrored wall and winced. She really did look like she'd just been thoroughly fucked against a wall, hair all over the place, lips swollen, a fresh bruise blooming on her neck from Clint's teeth. Well, about all she could do was smooth her hair and dress down as Skye laughed at her.

They arrived on the roof to see Fitz and Darcy in a heated clinch. Fitz looked about as ruffled as Jemma felt when Darcy finally let go of him and walked back into the Tower with a sassy roll in her hips. Jemma couldn't help but smile at her best friend's dazed expression.

"That girl's like a freight train," she said, linking her arm through Fitz's and walking with him into the quinjet. "Unstoppable."

Right, a brief bit of explanation of where I'm at in terms of AoS canon. This chapters in the Tower take place between Episodes 5 and 6 of Season 2, A Hen In The Wolf House and A Fractured House. After episode 6 events accelerate with Ward's escape and Coulson's carvings and I don't believe there would be time for interaction between the AoS team and the Avengers.

Consequently, I'm going to pick up the thread of the story again during the events of Episode 9 and Episode 10. Spoilers abound so if you haven't seen the episodes and don't want to be spoilered don't read on!

I am TRYING to end this fic, so obviously it's going to be AU after Episode 10! But since we won't find out anything that happens until March, until then, it happens MY way…

Oh, and incidentally, the Lance/Bobbi short What Happens In The Car does happen in this AU, if you didn't read it. You could consider it to be Chapter 43a.