Chapter Forty-Five – Only You

Clint found himself suddenly able to move as Loki's spell on him vanished, the Trickster's control breaking with the sudden agony of the gunshot wound. Clint lunged forward, through the invisible screen, and fell to his knees, his muscles screaming with agony. Jen swung the gun towards him wildly. She'd put the bullet through Loki's shoulder, not his head, but the force of the hollow-point 9mm round – and boy, was Clint ever glad that she'd obviously discovered the PPK he kept stashed under there – fired at such close range threw Loki back off her.

"You called Stark a fucking pimp Jen, it's me!"

At once she swung the gun back the other way, pointing it at Loki again. The Asgardian clawed at his shoulder in astonishment, staring at the blood on his hand.

"You shot me!" His illusion faded, and Jen tightened her finger on the trigger.

"Loki," she hissed. Whether she would have shot him again would remain forever a mystery, though, because right then Iron Man came smashing in through the balcony doors, glass shattering all over the floor on that side of the bed.

"Oh, this does not look good," Tony's voice came out mechanically as he landed, and then he put up his face plate. He looked from the naked, trembling, armed Jen on the bed, to naked, bleeding Loki, to Clint on his knees wearing only a towel. "This really doesn't look good."

The apartment's outer door crashed open and Steve and Natasha came racing in, Natasha with a gun in either hand. Natasha took in the situation with one glance and turned both guns on Loki.

"You bastard," she hissed.

"LOKI!" Thor's voice boomed as he came striding in. His Asgardian robes had manifested, Clint saw, and at the sight of his brother Loki staggered to his feet and manifested his own robes, though he left off his Reindeer Games helmet. "What is going on here?"

"I would really love to know the answer to that question," Tony said, "but first, please tell me Hulk isn't out?"

"Not yet," Banner said dryly from the doorway, "though he's not very happy right now."

Steve had averted his eyes from Jen's body, and he moved slowly, obviously not wanting to startle her as she still held Clint's gun in shaking fingers. He pulled off the plaid shirt he wore over a T-shirt and carefully placed it across her shoulders. Steve was so massive his shirt draped her like a tent, completely concealing her nudity from view.

"Let me take the gun, honey," he drawled softly. "You're safe now. We're all here. Let me take the gun."

"I'll shoot him for you if we decide he needs shooting again, Jen," Natasha said coolly, and at those words Jen let Steve slip the gun from her trembling hands.

"Hawk," she sobbed, and Clint scrambled up onto the bed beside her, ignoring his screaming muscles, and dragged her into his arms, turning her around so she was hidden from Loki by his body. She clung to him, shaking and sobbing against his chest.

"Get him out of here," Clint said roughly, jerking his head toward Loki. "Lock him the fuck up somewhere, borrow Fury's prison, I don't care, but if I ever see him near Jen again I will kill him."

Thor opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, but Steve put a hand on his arm. "Thor! We might not know exactly what is going on here, but there is no scenario where it is reasonable for Loki to be naked in Clint and Jen's bedroom right now!"

That was – inarguable. Thor closed his mouth and grabbed Loki's uninjured arm roughly. "Let us be gone from here, brother. I do not know what you think you were doing, but even Mother may not forgive you this time if this really is what it looks like."

Loki went even paler, if that were possible, and meekly let Thor drag him out of the room, Natasha following with her guns trained on his back. Steve stood holding Clint's PPK in his hand a bit uncertainly, and Banner stood beside him, arms folded, waiting.

"That could possibly be used as evidence against Jen," Clint nodded towards the gun. "Get rid of it."

"I – but…" Steve looked at the gun in his hand. Tony sighed and took it off him, tucking it into a gap that opened up in his armour.

"I'll get rid of it for you, Barton. Come on, guys. Let's leave these two alone. Even I can see that's what they need right now. Sorry about the mess, by the way," he nodded at the shattered glass all over the floor. "Let JARVIS know when you're ready to emerge and I'll have it fixed up." And he activated his thrusters and zoomed back out the window.

"Yes. Well," Steve shuffled his feet. "You're all right?"

"Any injuries?" Banner asked quietly. "Jen? Do you want me to do a rape kit, or find a female doctor for you? I could probably talk Tasha or Jane through it…"

Jen shook her head, sniffling, fighting down her shocked tears.

"It didn't get that far," Clint said. "Jen somehow figured out he wasn't me. He had put on an illusion of my face and froze me up in the corner, forced me to watch, though Jen couldn't see me."

Bruce growled. Everyone else in the room went very still.

"Everything's fine!" Jen babbled hastily. "I'm fine, he hardly touched me, I put a bullet in him, he totally deserved it!" Even she wasn't reckless enough to want to meet Hulk.

Bruce started taking slow, deep breaths, his eyes closed. After a moment, he opened them again, and walked slowly over to Jen. "You're really all right?" He bent and looked in her eyes.

"I'm really fine," she gave him a slightly watery smile, clinging to Clint. "If you feel the need to Hulk out, go take it out on Loki."

"No," Bruce shook his head. "The Other Guy likes you, Jen, he just wants to know you're safe."

"Thanks. I think?"

Bruce smiled at her, and looked at Clint. "What about you – Loki do you any damage?"

He shook his head. "He touched me and it kind of froze me, but when Jen shot him the spell broke. I'd been struggling against the spell and my muscles hurt, but I'm okay now."

"All right," Bruce glanced around the room. "I'd say we'll leave you alone, but with that shattered window it might not be the best idea."

"My apartment's below this one," Steve said. "You can use it – I – er – can sleep elsewhere."

"I'll take you up on that," Clint said after a glance at the mess. The wind was howling in through the smashed glass doors, too. They were over seventy stories up. "Just give us five minutes to get some clothes on."

"Of course. I'll go grab whatever I might need and leave the place to you. I'll tell JARVIS to open up for you." Steve and Bruce retreated.

"Jen," Clint whispered into her hair after holding her close for a few minutes. "We need to get out of here. Let me put something on you."

She gestured to her dresser, where one of his T-shirts lay. He got up and grabbed it, carefully avoiding the few shards of glass that had made it this far, returned and pulled it over Jen's head. She put her arms into the sleeves and discarded Steve's shirt. Clint grabbed cargo pants and a clean T-shirt of his own, shoved his feet barefoot into his boots and reached for Jen.

"Let me carry you. The floor's covered in glass."

Jen put her arms around his neck and clung to him as he carried her out, doors opening silently for him until he laid her down on a clean, white, freshly made bed. And thank God for Steve's temporal confusion, because until he was more comfortable in this time he had chosen to keep everything very simple, and his room was as bland and calming as a hotel room.

"I want – I want to wash," she whispered against his neck. "His hands…" she shuddered, and Clint nodded and lifted her again, carrying her to the bathroom.

"He'll never come near you again," Clint promised in a low, harsh voice, turning the shower on and watching as she dragged his shirt off with shaking hands.

"Come in with me," she begged, and he pulled his own hastily donned clothes off and followed her unhesitatingly into the stall, holding her tight when she turned to him and put her arms around him, the warm water pouring over both of them.

After a couple of minutes Clint reached for the shower gel and began to wash Jen, starting on her back, moving around to her arms and her breasts, keeping his touch gentle and impersonal. He went to his knees and washed her legs. Jen leaned back against the wall of the shower and closed her eyes.

"How did you know he wasn't me?" Clint had to know as he gently rinsed the soap from her thighs.

"It felt wrong from the moment he kissed me," Jen said, her eyes still closed. "I had trouble thinking at first. I wasn't feeling great. Bit feverish, itchy skin, you know. And then he called me 'babe'. Four times. And I realised nothing was right. The way he – you – was looking at me. The way his hands felt; it didn't stop the itching in my skin when he touched me. It was all just wrong. And you'd never called me babe. You call me darlin'."

Clint shook his head, still amazed. "I know why; you might not like to hear this, but girls before you – well, girls I wasn't particularly attached to – I used to call them babe. It didn't mean anything to me, you see. Loki must have picked up on that when he was digging around in my memories, and assumed I'd call you that too, but I never would." He stood, taking her in his arms. "You're my darlin', my only love. I am so glad you realised, but damn, I was terrified he was gonna kill you right there in front of me!"

"Why did he try it?" Jen asked plaintively. "He knows I'm not Guinevere."

"He wanted to hurt me, I'm afraid, and he wanted to possess you. He said because you hadn't completed your seven times yet, and I had, my soul would be bound to yours through eternity, but not the other way around. I think he planned to cast a spell to make you his soul-mate, and leave my soul lonely and searching forever for you."

"Bastard," Jen clung to him even tighter, and then she turned her face up to his and gave him a small smile, water-droplets clinging to her eyelashes. "Well, let's make sure he doesn't have another chance. Three left to go, you think you're up for it before we leave this apartment, Barton?"

"Jen," he startled. "You can't want to – not right now – Loki just damn nearly raped you!"

"Yes," she agreed, "but I'm afraid that makes no difference to what my body needs right now, Hawk. Any time you're not touching me, I feel really ill. I need you."

Talk about pressure. Fear for Jen was still clenching a knot tight in his chest. For a moment, Clint worried that he wouldn't be able to perform. But then Jen ran her hands down his chest and whispered; "I need you, Hawk. Only you. Right here, right now." She laid her hands on his cock, and he stiffened in instant response.

Blue and silver eyes gleamed up at him as she stroked him, and he groaned in surrender and took her mouth in a fierce, lustful kiss. Jen smiled against his lips. "There's my Hawk," she mumbled.

"Only ever yours." He lifted her off her feet, pinning her back against the shower wall, and she wrapped her legs around him.

"I always wanted to try shower sex."

"Anything for you, darlin'." She was sopping with arousal, making his entrance easy. He tried to go slow, to be gentle, but she was having none of it, locking her ankles at the small of his back and dragging him deep inside her.

"Don't hold back," Jen whispered in his ear. "I want you fast and hard. Make me forget."

As always, he could do nothing but obey her command, slamming into her again and again as the hot water poured down on them both until she cried out his name and clenched around him. Ordinarily he'd have tried to hold on and bring her to another climax, but just this once he let himself go and emptied deep inside her, moaning against her throat as his body shuddered with blissful release.

A/N Soundtrack for this chapter:

Against All Odds: Phil Collins

True Colours: Cyndi Lauper

A Better Man: Thunder