It took 3 weeks before I could really get my revenge on Rumlow. My hair was still a hideous shade of light pink, despite the constant washing. I'd resorted to finding a hairdresser to try and strip it out, but only ended up with a lighter shade of pink. Whatever was used to dye my hair wasn't hair dye. It was more like industrial strength clothes dye. Trying to strip the colour out only ended up in my hair being dry and brittle so the hairdresser wanted to wait a few more weeks before giving it another shot. I was beyond annoyed. At least everyone had stopped commenting on it now. Even Alexi had lost her fascination with my unicorn hair, as she called it.
Rumlow and I had been doing petty stuff to each other in pay back. There had been some minor theft. I'd dumped a few jars of glitter in his gym bag and disconnected his car battery. Rumlow put a stink bomb in my locker and hid my motorbike jacket so I froze on the way home one night. It was Wednesday morning and I was enjoying a long soak in the shower by myself. Natasha had to see Andrew this morning and we'd run late while sparring. So she'd gone straight to Andrew and I had the bathroom to myself. Clint had a meeting with Coulson about something as well and promised to do a bagel run for breakfast afterwards.
The door to the bathroom opened and I didn't bother to look out. It'd either be Natasha or Clint. I was enjoying being able to stand in the shower and soak away the last of the muscle soreness to care. The door closed about 30 seconds later, which made me look up. That was odd. Natasha would usually make some kind of grumbling noise if she had to go back out to her locker for something. I turned off the shower and wrapped my towel around me.
Stepping out into the bathroom, I felt a mixture of dread and anger as my gym bag was nowhere to be seen. The only thing sitting on the bench was my clean underwear and bra.
"You're so fucking dead Rumlow."
I knew exactly who it was right away. It was only a matter of time before our childish pranks grew into something a little more sinister. I was going to put an end to this once and for all. Without drying off, I pulled on my underwear and bra and stormed back out to the locker room.
The room instantly fell silent at the sight of me storming out of the bathroom half naked. I glanced around the room and didn't find Rumlow anywhere. Sam, being the only smart person left in STRIKE, silently pointed at the mens bathroom door. While seething, I went to Clint's locker, yanking the door open with more force than necessary and pulled out exactly what I needed. It was a good thing we'd been practicing close quarter combat yesterday, otherwise I would have never been able to get my hands on what I needed.
I walked to the men's bathroom and pulled the pin on the flashbang and smoke grenade. I didn't hesitate. I opened the door and threw both of them in. 5 seconds later, the mens bathroom erupted into chaos.
Smoke billowed out as guys came stumbling out, coughing and swearing. As soon as the smoke hit the locker room the fire alarm started going off, shutting down the power to the building immediately. Emergency lights came on and the order to evacuate the building started blaring over the loudspeaker. There was no time for the guys who were in the shower to grab clothes.
I stood in the middle of it all, insanely pleased with myself as the utter chaos going on around me. It had worked a lot better than I thought it would. No one had time to yell at me either, everyone was too busy getting out of the locker room. Dressed or not.
The only downside to my plan, was there was no time for me to grab clothes either. I had to walk out in the crowd of STRIKE in my underwear as well. At least it was better than just a towel like all of the guys who were in the shower.
"Kari."
Sam's voice carried to me. He was pushing his way through the crowd to get to me. As he got to me, he handed me a pair of gym shorts.
"Thanks." I couldn't stop the stupid grin from appearing on my face. The amount of trouble I was going to get in was well worth this. Rumlow was one of the guys in nothing but a towel. A very short towel that barely covered the essentials. I yanked on the shorts as we moved, nearly falling flat on my face a few times before I got them up. They were way too big on me, but I was able to make them tight enough they didn't fall down. Thankfully no one was pissed enough to make a scene as we all got out. But there were plenty of dirty looks being thrown my way by those still in their towels. The rest of the STRIKE guys looked torn between laughing or being annoyed their morning got interrupted.
We emerged into the morning sunlight onto the exercise oval, with most of the Triskelion staff behind us. It was utter chaos as everyone tried to find their designated spots. I was a good girl, I plonked down on the ground next to Sam and the rest of Bravo team joining in their conversation. Evans appeared a few minutes later, looking mildly harassed about shit happening so early in the work day.
It quickly got packed as the Triskelion was cleared. Natasha and Clint were the last of the stragglers to arrive. Natasha was still talking to Andrew, staying to the side of the general chaos.
"What happened?" Clint asked, ungracefully plonking down on the ground next to me. Before I could protest, he'd shed off his jacket and dropped it over my shoulders.
"Someone threw a flashbang and smoke grenade in the showers," I said innocently, arranging his jacket around me. "Caused a bit of a problem."
"Who the fuck would do that?" Clint rolled his eyes, looking mildly pissed off. It made my stomach drop a little as the shitty look on his face. Maybe I was the only one who was going to find the little stunt I pulled funny.
"No idea." I found a piece of grass to start shredding so I didn't have to look Clint in the face. "I was in the shower."
"Huh." It was the only thing Clint said. I could feel his stare boring into the side of my head as I continued to play with the grass. I was such a bad liar. There was a part of me that wanted to slink away so I didn't get in trouble. There was also another part of me that was very gleeful of the chaos I had caused. "Where'd the flashbang come from?"
It took every ounce of my self control not to blurt out I took one from his locker. I shrugged, biting down on the inside of my cheek so I wouldn't crack under Clint's firm stare.
"Kari?" Clint prompted me. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and saw his lips twitching, like he was trying to hide a smile. "Did you get back at Rumlow for dying your hair pink by throwing a flashbang and smoke grenade in the showers?"
"No, I threw the flashbang and smoke grenade in the shower for him stealing my clothes this morning." I was made. I may as well tell the truth. It was getting really hard to keep a straight face.
To my relief and delight, Clint threw his head back and laughed so hard half the STRIKE force turned to look at him. It took him a good minute before he was composed enough to speak again. He had to stop and wipe his face before he could continue through his chuckles.
"You have no idea how proud I am of you right now," Clint was breathless through his chuckles. "Oh fuck me that was perfect. You just cemented my answer to Coulson this morning."
"Answer to what?" It was my turn to stare a hole in the side of Clint's head. I knew he'd been talking to Coulson, but I had no idea what it was about.
"Trust me, you'll love it." Clint's wide grin was contagious. I couldn't help but grin back at him. "You have made my week by doing this."
"By doing what?" Natasha joined us, gracefully sitting down so she was facing both of us.
"Someone who will go nameless," Clint said, looking directly at me. "Threw a smoke grenade and flashbang in the mens bathroom as payback to another certain someone."
Natasha looked at me with her eyebrows raised so high, I was sure they'd disappear into her hairline. It wasn't often I did something that made Natasha speechless. I was going to cherish this moment for a very long time.
"STRIKE!" The bellowing voice of Nick Fury himself came booming across the oval. Every single STRIKE member jumped up and snapped to some sort of attention. All of a sudden, the eyes of every single worker in the Triskelion were on us. Director Fury came storming towards the mass that was STRIKE, his trademark leather trench coat billowing out behind him. Everything went eerily silent as he came to stand in front of us all. "Who the fuck decided it'd be a good idea to throw grenades around inside?"
No one spoke. I'm sure no one breathed as the silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity. I knew I was holding my breath, waiting for someone to rat me out. Looking back, it probably wasn't the smartest thing I could have done. But at least it was satisfying. Not that it was going to be a comfort when Fury found out it was me who did it. I dared to peek up under my eyelashes at the group of men around me. No one even looked in my direction, though there were some strained faces.
"So, Mr Nobody." Fury's voice was completely void of emotion as he stared all of us down. "A smoke grenade just got up by itself, wandered into the shower and set itself off like a suicide bomber."
I had to bite down on the inside of my cheek, hard, to stop myself laughing at the mental image that popped into my head. Judging by the few cleared throats and some silent, shaking shoulders, I wasn't the only one having really inappropriate thoughts right now. This was not the time or place to burst out laughing because I got the image of a smoke grenade with legs in my head.
"Last chance before all of you are in the shit," Fury growled, his one good eye sweeping over us again. It might have been my imagination, but I swear he glared right at me for longer than anyone else. "No takers?"
I held my breath again waiting for someone to dob me in. But there was nothing. It was that moment where I felt such a sense of belonging, I nearly teared up. STRIKE really was having another family. We may not all get along, but we always looked after each other. I thought Cobb might have been the one to speak up. But it remained completely silent.
"STRIKE leaders, my office." Fury's voice turned oddly calm. "As soon as the locals give us the all clear."
I dared to peek a glance at Clint and Natasha. They were both staring ahead, stony and silent. If I didn't know them like I did, I'd say both of them were simply bored. But Natasha's eyebrows were furrowed ever so slightly like she was concentrating on keeping a straight face. Clint had a little indention on his cheek where he was biting it to stop himself laughing.
It took 45 minutes for the local firefighters come in and clear the locker room. Seeing Rumlow shivering his ass off in his tiny towel made me feel all kinds of smug. But I had a feeling I hadn't won yet. I might not enjoy the payback he had in mind either. But for now, I'd take the happy high. It all came crashing down when we were about to head in and Coulson found us. All he did was point his finger at me and then back at the building. No words were needed to know I was gong straight to his office. Some of my previous glee deflating as I knew I was about to be in trouble.
"Ha ha," Rumlow tanned me under his breath as I walked passed him. "You're gonna be in trouble."
I grabbed his towel as I walked by and gave it a firm yank. His reflexes saved everyone from getting a full frontal eyeful. But he was bare assed for a few seconds before he get the towel rearranged.
"Thank you Kari!"
I have no idea who the female voice was who yelled over the top of the crowd. But I guessed I made someone's day by Rumlow's bare ass hanging out. The laughter rippled through the crowd. I walked a little quicker so I wouldn't get my pants pulled down, or something equally as embarrassing. I ducked into the locker room, grabbed a shirt and my sneakers before heading up to Coulson's office. Beyond training this morning, I don't think we had anything planned. Yesterday's close quarter training had been a long day. I was looking forward to a lazy day on the couch eating junk food before taking Lila to her ballet lesson.
Coulson wasn't in his office when I got there, so I poured both of us a coffee. Having a fresh coffee on his desk might put him in a better mood. He didn't look very happy when he found me before. Thankfully I didn't have to wait long to see what this was all about. As soon as I put his Darth Vader mug on the desk, Coulson walked into his office.
"Why do I suddenly feel like I'm being bribed?" The traces of his serious face from before was gone. Coulson looked almost excited.
"Why do I feel like I've just walked into a trap?" I deferred answering his question.
"No trap, though Fury is ready to kill someone for what happened in the locker room. Any idea of who it was?" Coulson asked me so casually, I was sure he already knew. He had a sixth sense like that.
"Nope, I was getting dressed when it happened" I said, taking a sip of coffee to hide my lie. Coulson always kept a few really good blends in his office. This one tasted identical to the coffee Stark drank. I needed to ask Pepper was it was so I could get some for home.
"That's a shame." Coulson's innocent expression mirrored my own as he turned a file on his desk and slid it over towards me. "Because if you told me who it was, you get to go on this."
The file was labelled Training Exercise Black Bag. My curiosity was more than piqued as I went to open the file. Coulson firmly shut it before I could glance at the first page.
"A name and you get to go."
"That's bribery Coulson." I was trying really, really hard not to smile. It was such a trap. If I said it was me, I'd be in trouble and not allowed to go on whatever this training exercise was. If I didn't say anything I wouldn't be allowed to go either. Dammit. I was fucked.
"It was me," I admitted, trying to smother my pride. I was going to be in so much trouble. "I'm sorry. Rumlow stole my gym bag and left me with nothing but my underwear and bra."
Coulson sighed heavily, the corners of his lips twitching in a vain attempt for him not to smile.
"This bullshit between you and Rumlow ends now, do you understand?" Coulson's firm voice wavered a little as he tried to look at me sternly. "No more, you've both had your payback so enough."
"Yes Coulson," I said instantly. I was happy to be done with our petty pranks. The Triskelion might actually burn down if we kept going. "I'm sorry for this morning. I lost my temper and it was very inappropriate."
"Noted," Coulson said dryly, though a small smile had appeared. "That was very creative of you."
Coulson slid the folder back over to me.
"I did promise you could go if you told me who it was. This doesn't mean you aren't getting punished for the other thing."
"I will take whatever punishment you give me fairly and with minimal grumbling." I picked up the folder, keen to see what I was doing. This must have been what Clint was talking about earlier. What I saw made me look back up to Coulson in surprise.
"Every so often all the military special forces, along with specialists from CIA, FBI and other government agencies are thrown together into a situation," Coulson filled me in, watching my face carefully.. "The idea is to see where each and every organisation has holes in their training and how it can be improved. This time, you've been selected for SHIELD."
"Over who?" I couldn't stop the little flutter of pride rising up in me. Competition for things like this would be hot. SHIELD could have sent anyone from STRIKE for this. But here I was feeling my ego getting bigger by the second.
"It was an unanimous decision amongst the STRIKE leaders here to send you." Coulson's stern face finally fell away completely as he smiled over at me. "I have Clint the final choice whether to send you or not. But he agreed that you're more than capable of the job."
"Thanks Coulson." I could feel my cheeks heating up in mild embarrassment and pleasure. It was nice to know I was so highly thought of, not just within my own team but by the other STRIKE leaders too. A date caught my eye and I took another look at it. The exercise wasn't until after Christmas. It was the second week in the new year.
Motherfucker. I'd walked right into that one. I looked up at Coulson was dread gnawing at me. The smile he was giving me mirrored my own innocent one from earlier. I was not going to like what he said next.
"In the meantime, SHIELD has some new pilots coming through and they need a supervisor for their last 25 hours of flying," Coulson said calmly. "From 0900 until 1700 every day, that what you'll be doing for the foreseeable future. Starting today actually, though you'll have to make up for the hour wasted for the evacuation."
I looked at the clock. It was 0955. I'd been here since 0600 this morning. It was going to be a very long day.
"Yes Sir," I said meekly, getting out of the chair. I needed to get changed and down to the hanger. This wasn't going to be fun. The only other person I trusted in the pilot seat was Clint. Having to deal with a bunch of new pilots was going to be stomach churning. It was the worst punishment Coulson could have come up for me. Still, I was going to get a cool reward soon enough for it. This year was flying past. I was already doing my usual excuses to avoid either Thanksgiving or Christmas even though I swear the 4th of July weekend was only a few weeks ago. It was crazy.
"Take a sick bag," Coulson called out as I walked out the door. I swear he was laughing his ass off as soon as the door clicked shut behind me.
I wrinkled my nose, but smiled anyway as I walked to the elevator. It could have been worse punishment. At least I wasn't stuck teaching a class. Or hauled up before Fury. The punishment was more than fair for the chaos I caused this morning.
Well, that was what I was going to keep telling myself every time I was going to be sick from someone's shitty flying.
I got back to the now fairly deserted locker room and got changed into a flight suit. I hadn't done any rostered flying for ages, so it felt a little weird to be doing it. During the long walk to the hanger, I sent Clint and Natasha a text letting them know I was stuck here all day. Neither of them were surprised, but both were sympathetic about my punishment.
I'd gotten about 3 steps into the hanger when a guy about my height came to stand beside me and handed me a clipboard.
"Excuse me Ma'am, but Agent Turner said I'd be with you today."
Agent Turner was the head of training for the pilots. Or at least I think he was. The name was familiar enough anyway to make me nod. I glanced at the clipboard to see who I was dealing with and what Quinjet we'd be taking. The trainee pilots always got the older model ones, but they flew just as well as the new ones. My trainee pilot was Agent Blake Wagner. I inwardly sagged in relief at seeing his file. He was USAF and flew C-17's before coming to SHIELD. At least I wasn't going to die on my first flight out. Still, my stomach began to churn with nerves. I was such a control freak while flying. This might not end well at all.
'Yes," I said with a polite smile. "We're over there. Tail number 0-35. Lead the way."
Wagner was probably a few years older than me, but he looked just as nervous as I was feeling. It took about 10 seconds before he broke the silence.
"I have to say Ma'am, I'm really honoured to have you as my co-pilot today," Wagner said, looking excited and embarrassed all at once. "I hope I don't disappoint you."
"Considering you flew C-17's for 5 years, I'm sure you wont." My words were to reassure myself as much as Wagner. He really shouldn't be that bad. "Though is it an honour because I shot at an alien robot, or because I flew F-22s?"
"Both." Wagner gave me a shy smile. "Though it is more the F-22's than the alien robot."
That made me smile, a little bit more genuine this time.
"I got to fly the prototype F-35 a few months back as well,' I said, feeling a little smug to have an admirer of my pilot skills. It was a change from all the crap that followed me since New Mexico. "That was a lot of fun."
That was enough for Wagner to start firing questions at me. He kept me so busy with answering his questions I barely had time to get nervous while we were in the air. Like I thought, he was a competent pilot and really didn't need any extra supervision. It was a very gentle introduction to my life for the foreseeable future. I had to write my notes on the pilot after their session and I was more than happy to give Wagner a glowing report. He was a good pilot and there was no reason he shouldn't be flying by himself. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to give me opinion, but they were getting it anyway. I handed the clipboard back to him with a smile and thanked him for not killing us. That got me an excited smile that I'm sure wouldn't be wiped off his face for the next week.
I managed to duck to the toilet and my next trainee was waiting for me in the same spot near entrance of the hanger. This pilot barely looked old enough to be shaving. I inwardly held in a sigh as he came straight to me and handed me his clipboard. This was going to be a long day.
Thats how the rest of the week and the next week was spent. I was bored out of my mind, spending most days green from nausea. I'd even made a rule that if I threw up, the trainee pilot had to buy me a bottle of alcohol. So far I'd gotten 3 bottles of scotch. Most of them weren't bad, but there were some who I had no idea how they managed to make it this far in their training. I don't think I'd ever been so bored in my life. The only bright spot was that Clint had to do one of these flights before he was signed off to fly by himself. His glee at finally becoming a qualified pilot was nearly worth all the other boredom.
Nearly.
Friday morning I had a psych appointment with Andrew. I was tired, cranky and therefore distracted in training. Natasha took pity on me, but I was still late and limping by the time I got to his office. I knocked on the door and breezed in rushing out my apology.
"Sorry I'm…." I started before trailing off when I saw it wasn't Andrew in the office. Instead it was a middle aged balding man who looked like he hadn't seen the inside of a gym for the last 20 years. "Am I in the wrong office?"
"Agent Lyngley is it?" The mystery man smiled moving towards me with his hand outstretched. "Andrew couldn't make it in today. I'm Dr Burke."
I numbly took his hand, wincing a little at his limp grip. This never happened. If Andrew couldn't make it he always rescheduled. He never gave us over to anyone else. I knew there were whispers around of him getting a divorce, but I hadn't paid much attention to them. I guess I should have.
"Please, have a seat," Dr Burke said, motioning towards the chair across from him. That was normally Andrew's chair. Dr Burke sat down in the chair I always used. I awkward sank into the leather seat, feeling it squeak under my still sweaty skin. I really should have changed out of these shorts.
"I know this is a bit unexpected so you'll have to excuse me for probably going over what you and Andrew have spoken about many times," Dr Burke shot me an almost nervous smile. Still he looked confident enough as he settled down in the chair I usually sat in with his notebook in hand. "I suppose I should start with, how are you feeling today?"
"Fine." I don't know what it was, but my guard was instantly up about this whole situation. It felt wrong that Coulson didn't give me a heads up. SHIELD were very pedantic about how handled our mental and physical problems. I always saw Max if I had to go to medical. No one else. It was the same with Andrew. He was always an email away even if I didn't have an appointment with him and I needed to talk to something.
"Just fine?" Dr Burke pursed his lips, his eyes dropped down to his notebook for a few seconds. "I thought you'd be at least enjoying your time as a flight instructor."
That seemed like he was baiting me. If I had a rant about how much I hated it, I was sure I'd be stuck doing it for the rest of my life. Instead I wrinkled my nose and shrugged.
"It's boring, like most punishment is meant to be," I said, keeping a neutral tone. "SHIELD really needs to look into their flying school a bit better."
Dr Burke chuckled, scribbling something down on his notepad. I wondered if it was something about me being uncooperative.
"How is your personal life? Andrew made some notes here about you seeing someone new after your boyfriend died."
I closed my eyes and forced myself to breath normally for a few seconds. Of course he was going straight down that path 5 seconds into our conversation. Andrew was brilliant when it came to anything to do with Riley. He'd come at the problem sideways and he'd chip away it in tiny little chunks. I'd barely even notice we were talking about it until the end. When Greg first came into our discussion, Andrew didn't treat our friendship any differently than he would Clint and I. Obviously Dr Burke was reading between the lines.
"Greg is a friend," I said through slightly gritted teeth. "Just because he has a cock doesn't mean I treat him any differently than I would Barton or any other guy I associate with."
"Of course," Dr Burke at least had the grace to look mildly embarrassed as his assumption. "My apologies. I just thought going into the holiday season, you'd be looking to seek some comfort without Riley. After all, its now been a year since your first fire fight in SHIELD which is why you had to have this appointment today. Times like this can be hard."
Fuck me, had it really been a year since that night in the canyon in Afghanistan? That would probably why I was getting some weird ass dreams over the last week. It was all a blurred mess, but I'd wake up with my heart pounding and covered in sweat with no idea what I'd just been dreaming about. At least it wasn't hard to fall back asleep afterwards.
"Besides, moving on means you really need to start speaking about Riley," Dr Burke kept pushing, despite my silence. "Do you talk to Greg about Riley?"
"No." My answer was short and clipped. This was not going well at all.
"It can be a good outlet," Dr Burke said gently, probably in what he considered a soothing tone. It only made the hairs on my neck stand up. "How about you think that I'm Greg and tell me something about Riley?"
"Riley was a unicorn among men." The words spewed out before I could stop them. "He enjoyed going down on me for hours and never asked for me to return the favour."
Dr Burke went 7 different shades of red and had to clear his throat three times before he spoke.
"That's not what I really had in mind."
"I'm STRIKE, we talk about sex, sport or blowing shit up. There's not really any middle ground," I said with no apology in my voice. Truth was, casual comments about Riley were usually things like that, between Natasha, Clint and Jared anyway. I did it to annoy Jared mostly.
"If your relationship was based on those 3 things then I would have worried about it being a sustainable relationship," Dr Burke said, his tone back to being condescending. I don't think he was doing it on purpose. But it immediately had my guard back up. "You've said it yourself you relationship with your family isn't that strong. Andrew made quite a few notes about it. So this makes me wonder how you'll manage these holidays."
Oh fuck me. We were back to that again. I'd been actively avoiding thinking about the holiday season. Mostly because I was doing my usual trick of dodging anything family related. At least this year I had an excuse to stay in DC. Mom would get her way eventually though. I'd have to go to either Thanksgivings or Christmas. I couldn't miss both.
"After all, your team can't really be considered family since you've only known them a year. So this brings me back to wondering how you're going to cope?"
I couldn't find an answer to what Dr Burke was saying. It almost came out like an insult that I needed a man in my life to hold myself together. I wouldn't even touch on him saying Natasha and Clint weren't family. It was the stupidest thing I'd ever heard in my life. I was so shocked he had the balls to say it, I couldn't get any words to form. I stared at him while he proceeded to give me a lecture about the holiday season always being the hardest for single people. Especially those who had lost their partner. There wasn't even any coping techniques thrown in there. It was like he was telling me I was going to be completely useless unless I had someone for these holidays. Preferably a man because I needed to replace Riley eventually and now was a good start. Well, those weren't his exact words but it sure as hell felt like that was what he was saying. My answers become non verbal or in monosyllables as the session progressed. How could someone get me so wrong? It got worse as he went on, it was like he was oblivious to my discomfort. As soon as the hour ticked over, I fled from the room without a goodbye.
I shoved back all the unwanted and uncomfortable feelings as I ran to the locker room to have a shower and get changed. I was still 10 minutes late getting to the hanger, getting a disapproving stare and lecture from Agent Turner for my tardiness.
It took my first pilot 4 goes to take off successfully. It was the roughest ride I'd had in a long time and I was sure I would have thrown up if I had time for breakfast this morning. I was feeling very green and strained and the morning had barely started. It unfortunately didn't get much better from there. I swear Agent Turner had given me all the shitty pilots on purpose today for being late. One of them was so nervous in front of me, he didn't even make it off the launchpad. The only luck for me, being Friday meant we had a slightly early finish. 1600 instead of 1700. At least my last pilot for the day wasn't too bad. She had been fairly competent, it was only nerves that made her do some silly mistakes that were easily corrected.
I was more than ready to go home and have a beer. But as soon as I was out of the Quinjet, a text message from Coulson came through.
My office as soon as you're finished please.
I sighed looking at my phone screen reading over the message a few times. This was probably about my psych session this morning and me not being cooperative. I dragged my tired ass up to Coulson's office, my feet feeling heavier with every step I took. My legs were cramped and my back was aching from the rough flights in the Quinjet. Coulson wasn't in his office when I got there, so I slumped in the chair and put my head on the desk instead. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the peace and quiet of Coulson's office while I could. It wouldn't last long.
As soon as that thought rattled in my head, the door opened. I didn't bother looking up until something heavy was dropped next to my head. I jumped in surprise, bolting upright to look at Coulson. He picked up the first file and started reading it.
"This flight was interesting, as in oh god, oh god we're all going to die, interesting," Coulson looked at me with a stern expression. "Though I can't fault you for the Serenity reference, why is it on an official report?"
Fuck, did I really write that? I remember thinking it this morning with one of the worse pilots. But in all honesty I don't think I actually wrote it down. My mind had been all over the place though. I was angry, then upset every time my thoughts drifted back to my psych session. Dr Burke had singlehandedly made me feel like the most useless person in STRIKE. But all that could be fixed if I had a relationship. It felt like he was trying to drive a wedge between me and my family, blood and otherwise.
"And this one." Coulson picked up the next file, flipping it around to face me. "Care to explain it?"
My drawing skills were pretty bad. But I thought it was clear enough. Obviously not.
"It's a plane crashed into the ground with stick figures on fire," I said in a small voice. That one I remembered doing because I had no words to describe how bad the pilot was.
"While creative, it's not helpful at all." Coulson closed the file and dropped it with a slap on the top of the other ones.
"I'm sorry Coulson, I'll take them home and redo them," I said meekly, feeling very defeated. Today was not going well at all. "I was having a bad day."
"I noticed," Coulson said dryly, crossing his arms as he stared me down. "Your reports from the last week and a half were excellent. Except for your shitty handwriting. So good in fact, we have people going over your suggestions to improve SHIELD's flight training. Todays I could only show to Hill, who thankfully found them funny, but that's probably because she draws things like poop with knives in them under personality traits in interviews."
That made my lips quirk a little bit, but I couldn't bring myself to smile. I'd just given myself a few hours of work to do over the weekend. I was hoping today would be the last of my punishment. We had an entire week at the range planned for next week. I highly doubted I'd see the outside world for a bit longer.
"What's up?" Coulson's face softened nearly instantly.
"I don't like our new psychologist." There was no point lying. Coulson would find out eventually. Dr Burke really was an ass and I'd rather spend 6 months out of the field than have to see him again. Instead of a lecture, Coulson gave me a confused look. "Dr Burke. I had a session with him this morning instead of Andrew."
"Umm, no." Coulson's face went from confused to angry in half a second. "Dr Burke was given very specific instructions to reschedule you until Andrew got back. Did Andrew not send you an email?"
I shook my head, feeling very defeated. This morning's mess could have been avoided if it wasn't for someone's ego. What he hoped to accomplish I will never know.
"Fuck, Kari I'm so sorry." Coulson genuinely looked it too. "Andrew had his first court date for his divorce today and he couldn't reschedule it. Dr Burke was never meant to talk to you. What happened?"
Feeling miserable, I replayed the mostly one sided conversation with Coulson. Halfway through my explanation, Coulson got up and got me a coffee and donut. The sugar and caffeine were a much needed hit after a shitty day. Especially when I started to feel a little teary by the end of it. By the time I was finished my story, Coulson looked ready to kill someone.
"I know it's absolutely no consolation now," Coulson said, his voice was a lot calmer than his face. "But he couldn't be more wrong about you Kari. Despite what everyone thought, you picked yourself off the ground, dusted your ass off and kept going. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you aren't doing a good enough job from moving on from Riley. I'll make sure this doesn't happen again. Do you need a hug?"
The last part of Coulson's sentence made me chuckle. It was weak and strained but it was something. Coulson really didn't give out hugs. Then again, I don't think Natasha ever came to Coulson with tears. The offer was appreciated though. His words gave me a small sliver of encouragement again. There were days I still doubted myself, but I'd never had anyone say I couldn't do this. Not to my face any way.
"No, I think I'll just go home. I have some beer and a pint of ice cream waiting for me," I said wearily. I stood up and reached for the files on Coulson's desk.
"You can leave them for the weekend if you want," Coulson said gently. "Do them first thing Monday before you go to the range."
That last word was magic to my ears. At least I knew what I was doing next week now. My punishment was over.
"No, I'll get them done now while it's still fresh in my mind." I really didn't want to do them. Leaving them was a very tempting offer right now. But I was so bad with names I'm sure I wouldn't remember a damn thing if I left them until Monday morning.
"Sure." Coulson gave me a smile. "Have a quiet weekend and congrats on your punishment being done. You did it with a lot more grace and enthusiasm than I expected. Your reports, except for these ones, were very well done. You may have changed SHIELD's flying school completely."
"Oh I hope so, considering how bad some of those kids were," I groaned, but felt myself perk up at the praise. Not that they were kids. Most of them were my age or older. I was just feeling about 40 years old right now instead of 24. "Thanks for the coffee and donut."
'You're welcome." Coulson came over and gave me a pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry about Dr Idiot, you have us for the holiday season anyway. It's too crazy to get lonely."
Coulson wasn't wrong there. Between Alexi being older this year and Clint's Christmas obsession, I was going to be too busy to be lonely over the holidays. Clint was already making plans about what to cook for Thanksgiving, beyond the obvious choices. It was easy to get caught up in it all.
"Thanks Coulson." This time my smile was more genuine as I picked up the files. "Have a good weekend."
"Call me if you need me." Coulson's firm tone left no room for argument. I nodded in agreement which seemed to satisfy him. "Behave yourself."
"Never do, why would I start now?"
My cheeky answer got me a laugh from Coulson as he shooed me out of the office. On my way back down to the locker room, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Greg had been quiet this week as he was on all night shifts. But Gareth more than made up for it, keeping a constant stream of chatter with me while I complained bitterly about bad pilots. So it was a little bit of a surprise to see Greg's name on the screen. There was no message, just a photo of his arm with some nasty road rash.
I opened the text, wincing in sympathy. As I went into the message, another text came through.
So, I'm sitting at home nursing a wounded pride and arm. Whats your plans for tonight?
Poor guy. Road rash was never fun. I had an impressive scar on my leg to prove that. Luckily for me, it had faded to white and you could barely notice it. At least it was one less patch of skin I had to shave.
I had a crappy day, so I'm going to home and having beer and ice cream.
I knew it was Greg fishing to see if I wanted to do anything tonight. But I was too strung out and tired to be bothered doing anything besides sitting on the couch. While waiting for Greg to reply, I flicked to a message Jared had sent me earlier.
Nat and I are going out tonight. Wanna come with?"
At least Jared asked. He didn't demand I come out. I sent off a gentle no and a bit of a lie about being tired. They would both understand that. Jared knew I'd been having some very early bedtimes and even Natasha had commented I was looking tired over the last week.
I was changed and on my motorbike a lot quicker than I thought my weary body was capable of. Greg and Jared still hadn't replied, so I didn't bother waiting for one. I hit peak hour at it worst, so it was a slow ride home. I parked my bike, waved politely to one of the neighbours who was on his way out and dragged myself to the elevator. The ride up a few floors seemed to take forever, as did the walk to the front door. But once the front door swung open, I breathed in a sigh of relief. There was nothing like finally being home after a long and shitty day.
I dropped my bag on the couch and went straight to the fridge for a beer. It was one of Jared's imported beers, but it tasted acceptable enough. Opening the freezer, my heart sank at the sight of what should have been there. I had a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough, but it was nowhere to be seen. I slammed the freezer door, swearing at Jared under my breath. He usually didn't eat the ice cream I liked. He must have needed a sugar fix pretty desperately to eat that. I couldn't be mad at him. We shared the grocery bill equally and didn't specifically have our own food.
I put my feet up on the coffee table, sinking down into the couch and grabbed my phone out of my bag. Jared still hadn't replied to my earlier text, so I sent him a slightly pitiful one .
You owe me ice cream :(
I sighed heavily and threw my phone back onto the coffee table, taking another long swig of beer. What a shitty day it'd been. At least it was over now and I could sit here and zone out to some stupid movie. I used my foot to move the TV remote within snatching distance and turned on the TV. It was Friday night so there had to be some half decent movie on one of the channels. For the first time today I got lucky. It was an 80's movie called Willow. I loved that movie when I was younger so I sat back and let myself get lost in the terrible special effects but cute storyline. 20 minutes into the movie, someone knocked on the door.
"Its open," I called out, too lazy and comfortable to move. There were only a handful of people who would knock on my door. My guess it was one of the Bravo boys trying to drag me out for a hockey game at JoJo's. I think the Fliers and Sabres were playing, but I wasn't that interested in either team. The door opened and I muted the tv, craning my hear around to see who it was, ready to tell them to go away.
Coming in the door was Greg with his hands full.
"Hi," I said, jumping up and racing to the door to take something off his hands. Whatever he had in the paper bags smelt really good. I couldn't help but smile. This was a nice surprise, even if I didn't think I'd be good company tonight.
"Hi," Greg smiled back. "We've both had shitty days so I figured we can drown our sorrows in grease. I brought some of those heart attack inducing burgers from the shop near work."
No wonder the bag smelt so good. The hole in a wall type burger place did the most incredible triple beef, bacon and cheese burgers. Greg was mildly horrified and a little impressed when I ate one a few weeks ago, along with a serving of fries and large milkshake all to myself.
"Thank you." I couldn't think of anything else to say. It was very sweet of him to come around with burgers. If he'd asked, I probably would have said no and ate ramen tonight.
"But this." Greg looked a little mischievous and very proud of himself as he held up another unmarked bag. "Is a surprise for dessert, but it needs to go in the freezer. So no peeking."
My smile grew wider at Greg's obvious glee. My bad mood from earlier seemed to be melting away at the very sweet thing he'd just done. He was a good friend.
"I won't look," I promised. "There's beer in the fridge if you want one, It's some weird imported beer, but it tastes good."
"Thanks."
Greg made himself busy in the kitchen while I got out burgers out. It was a little disgusting how dripping in grease they really were, but I was in the mood to pack away some junk food. Sitting on my ass for the last week and a half made me a little more conscious about what I was eating, so I'd been relatively healthy. Right now a burger dripping in fat would go a long way to improving my mood.
Greg sat down just as I was biting into my burger. It was still warm and the cheese and mayonnaise dripped out onto my fingers. But the taste was worth the mess I was making. I moaned in delight, closing my eyes as I slowly chewed. It seriously felt like the best thing I'd had all week.
"Do you and your burger need a few moments alone?" Greg teased as he settled down next to me.
"I don't need a few, just one will be enough," I laughed around my mouthful of burger. "You have no idea how good this is after a week of nothing but protein and greens."
"You trying to bulk up again?" Greg asked before biting into his burger. He had the same as me and made a mess on his first bite.
"Not really, I figured sitting on my ass all day and eating pizza probably wasn't going to make my body happy." I took a smaller bite of my burger this time. One I could chew without having to work my jaw into overdrive. It only took a few seconds for me to swallow. "What happened to your arm?"
"I want to say a cool story to make me feel tough," Greg said with a wry smile. "But I wasn't paying attention and hit the kerb while riding my bike this morning. Came off and took some skin off. It gave me an excuse to call in sick tonight. How many pilots made you throw up today?"
Greg was still on his emergency rotation and hating most of his time there. Apparently emergency medicine was a calling and Greg definitely wasn't hearing the calling of it. He only had a few more weeks to go and was counting down the days until he was done. Then he only had one more rotation to go and he was finished his second year internship. He was studying like crazy for his surgical exams so he could get a good mark and have the pick of places for his residency.
"None, thankfully. However I had a shitty psych appointment today and now have to redo all my reports." I looked over to my backpack that was still on the table containing those reports. They definitely weren't getting done tonight. "Apparently drawing stick figures on fire doesn't count as an acceptable response."
Greg had to clamp his hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter through his mouthful of burger. He face turned red before he managed to swallow, coughing a few times before he could speak.
"You didn't, did you?" Greg asked after he got himself under control.
"I did," I said with a small laugh. "Hang on, I'll show you."
I put my half finished burger down and wiped my hands on my flight suit. I reached over and dragged the bag across to me, pulling out the first few files on top. I flipped through them until I found my drawing, turning it around and proudly presenting it to Greg. The response was exactly what I needed. Greg laughed so hard, it took him a full minute to compose himself again.
"What did the poor pilot do to you to deserve such a harsh report," Greg said around his laughter.
"He took 4 goes to try and take off." I found myself laughing with Greg. It was a good feeling after a disastrous day. I threw the files beside the table so I wouldn't have to look at them for the rest of the night. "This was what I thought was going to happen if we actually got in the air. If I'd eaten breakfast I would have thrown up for sure."
Come to think of it, I don't think I'd eaten all day besides the donuts Coulson gave me. The burger was going down very well, along with my beer.
"You'll never put on weight if you skip breakfast," Greg said, it was a half tease and half doctor moment. I'd heard the same thing from Laura a few thousand times.
"I don't even think my super metabolism can handle this burger without gaining at least a pound," I said, smiling as I took another bite.
"Oh no, a whole pound," Greg sassed me. "How will you ever manage gaining an entire pound?"
I reached over and lazily kicked his leg, mindful that I was still wearing boots. I should really get changed but I couldn't be bothered. SHIELD's flight suits were relatively comfortable, thought I did smell a little like sweaty nylon thanks to my gloves. No matter how many times you washed your hands, the smell would linger for days.
"Fuck you," I laughed as my booted foot gently connected with his shin.
"Please don't talk about sex. This week seems to be the week for people coming in with gross sex injuries." Greg kicked me back, though there was no force behind his kick either. I'm sure I looked as tired as Greg currently did. Night shifts sucked, even if you were a night owl like Greg.
"I'm disgusted and far too curious for my own good now," I said, perking up a little. I loved hearing Laura's horror stories from work. Greg never shared any, so this should be good.
"Not while we're eating." Greg looked like he was regretting his choice of words. I gave him a pitiful look, sticking out my lower lip in a pout. It worked far too well. It only took another few seconds for Greg to give in. "Fine. One story. Do you have any other random drawings in your reports?"
"No, but I did make a very appropriate quote from Serenity." I smiled. It was funny now I looked back on it. It's a shame I didn't feel like smiling at the time.
"I love that movie." Greg looked over at me with a grin. "Any chance you've got it? Cuz now I really want to watch it."
"Please, I think we have ever sci-fi movie ever made in this apartment," I said proudly, putting my burger down. "Of course we have Serenity. We even have FireFly series on DVD somewhere."
Willow was long forgotten as I quickly found Serenity and put the DVD on. I kicked off my boots and got comfortable, sinking down into the couch and putting my feet up on the coffee table.
"Nice socks," Greg said smartly, shifting around as he got comfortable as well. Unlike me, he had the good manners to take his shoes off at the door. Jared hated it when I wore my work boots around the apartment.
"I think they are," I said, grinning over at him. I was wearing very mismatched socks. One was a rainbow coloured striped sock and the other had Little Miss characters all over it. The Little Miss socks had been a present from Natasha, but I'd lost one of them. "One of them matches my underwear."
"Let me guess, Little Miss Naughty?" Greg teasing was on a roll tonight. "And Little Miss Naughty has a pair of handcuffs and a whip."
"Of course." That made me laugh. I had that exact same pair of underwear I brought as a joke. I wasn't currently wearing them though. "How did you guess?"
"One of my nieces loves those books and wandered in the more adult section of a store one day," Greg explained, his smile growing wider throughout the story. "She came back with a thong like that and when my sister said no, she was very upset about it."
"I remember doing something like that when I was in my teenager years, but it was Captain America underwear," I said, smiling back at the memory that might have scarred my Grams for life. "Except my poor Grams actually knew Captain America and gave me this massive lecture about how Steve Rogers would definitely not approve of my underwear choice. I think she was very close to pulling how the whole back in my day line, but she managed to refrain."
"I never knew that about your Grams." Greg's attention was right on me, the movie seemingly forgotten for now. "If its any consolation, I had Captain America underwear when I was a teenager too. I may even have a pair of two still. What did your Grams do in World War 2?"
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," I joked before turning serious. "She was part of the SSR, and then SHIELD when it was formed. She oversaw the selection of recruits for the Super Soldier program initially, then helped with the Howling Commandos missions. I have a very cool Grams."
"Yes, you do." Greg looked a little awed. "Wow, I never knew that. She never came to visit you in hospital, did she?"
"Nah, it's getting harder for her to travel at her age and she finds emotional atmospheres quite overwhelming," I explained. When Greg gave me a confused look, I added. "She's a telepath. She can read minds."
"I was trying to find a polite way to ask," Greg said with a small chuckle. The look of awe never left his face though. "Though I'm guessing you get asked that a lot."
"And I usually respond with hold my beer," I chuckled, taking another swig of my own beer. It was my last mouthful. "Speaking of, do you want another one?"
"Here, I'll get them." Greg jumped up before I could protest. He came back a minute later with 2 beers, handing one to me before plonking down on the couch. The movie was into the full swing of things and it was easy to get lost in it very quickly while I finished my burger and fries.
I stretched my legs out, trying to relieve some of the stiffness and cramping in them. I hated doing lots of little short flights. At least during long haul trips I could get up and walk around when auto pilot was on.
"Magnesium helps," Greg said after a few minutes of me fidgeting. "As does massaging them."
"Is that an offer?" I asked, more to be a smart ass than anything else.
"I give terrible massages," Greg said with a laugh, but grabbed the leg of my flight suit and gave it a tug. "I do know how to release pressure points though. It won't feel great, but it does help. One of the physiotherapists at work showed me how to do it when I was getting bad cramps."
It wasn't a massage but I wasn't going to knock back anything to would make me calves feel better. They were so tight at the moment.
"Release away."
Greg pushed up the baggy material and pulled my lower legs across his lap, His fingers dug around in my tight calf muscles, making me squirm. He was right though, it hurt but the relief that came with it was very welcome.
"Your legs are very nice for anatomy study," Greg said with a small laugh as he moved onto my other leg. "Can I have them when you die?"
"Only if you impress me with your anatomy knowledge," I laughed with him. Max had said the same thing to me once. Doctor's could be so weird at times. "Do you want Hawk's arms as well?"
"Sure, he has amazing arms." Greg looked up at me with a carefree grin. "Ready to be impressed?"
"I'm waiting."
"Popliteus, Soleus, Fibularis longus, Tibialis posterior, Flexor digitorum, Flexor hallucis and Fibularis brevis." Greg moved over the side of my calf quickly, rattling off the names with ease.
"Smart ass." I laughed again. "How do I know you didn't make that up?"
"I will Google to prove myself." Greg looked very proud of himself. To prove his point, he got out his phone and with a few taps was showing me a picture of all the calf muscles. I could barely remember the names so I wasn't going to argue.
"Fine, you win." I conceded defeat. I couldn't even remember which bones my radius and ulna were, so I wasn't going to argue about anything anatomical with someone who was going to be a surgeon.
We fell into a comfortable silence, going back to the movie. Greg fiddled with my other leg, making me jerk in surprise a few times. But otherwise we were quiet. He didn't seem to mind my legs stretched out across his lap, so I kept them there. It was actually comfortable having them stretched out that way. The only time I moved was to get up and get another beer for both of us.
When the movie was finished, I flicked the TV back on and found Independence Day was on. I wasn't sure whether I should groan, or enjoy myself. I had a bit of a love hate relationship with that movie. Greg tapped my legs before I could make a snide comment about it.
"This is where I get dessert and you can rant about how bad movies portray fighter pilots when you've had some sugar," Greg chuckled as he stood up. "No peeking. It's a surprise."
That instantly made me want to turn around and see what Greg was doing in the kitchen. I managed to refrain and keep my eyes facing forward.
"Thanks for coming over and bringing food." I almost felt a little shy about saying that. This was one of those times were I wondered if I was missing something between Greg and I. But he never pushed. Tonight was probably the most he'd ever touched me. Despite my turmoil from earlier, it was very nice to be touched again.
"Thanks for not kicking me out on my ass," Greg said, sounding a bit unsure of himself. "I wasn't sure if you'd want company, but I figured if there was a gun to my face I could leave the food at the door."
"I would never do that." It made me laugh again. Laughing felt very good after such a shitty day. "Especially when you bring my new favourite burger and some sort of secret dessert."
"It could be terrible," Greg warned me. "I've never made it before."
It was taking a lot more self control than it should not to peek at what Greg was doing. I could hear him shuffling around in the kitchen. But nothing was giving me a clue to what I was getting. It could be ice cream because it had to go in the freezer. But Greg liked to experiment with his desserts. I could be getting anything.
"Close your eyes," Greg instructed.
I chuckled under my breath, but did as I was told. It only took a few seconds before something cold was put in my hands. I cracked open one eye and peered down at what I'd been given. It was an ice cream sundae.
"I brought an ice cream maker," Greg explained as he settled down next to me, balancing his own bowl. "I had an idea and threw it all together, but I didn't taste it before I brought it over. So if its terrible, I'll go find some Ben and Jerrys."
"It looks amazing," I sad honestly. "Besides, you brought dinner. It'd be my turn to get something for dessert."
Whatever the ice cream was, Greg had covered it in chocolate sauce and whipped cream. He'd even put a cherry on top. I took my spoon and scooped up just the ice cream. It tasted as good as it looked. It was peanut butter and there was some brownie piece though the ice cream.
"Oh my god." I couldn't stop the moan of delight at the taste of it. Good didn't come close to how it tasted. "I think I just orgasmed."
"Again, do you and your food need a few moments alone?" Greg teased me with a laugh. I didn't miss the slight red colour in his cheeks. Maybe it was the few beers we'd had, but I don't think I'd ever gotten Greg to blush before. A gleeful little part of my mind lit up at seeing his red cheeks. I could have a bit of fun with this.
"Only if I had someone to lick the ice cream off me," I said, keeping my tone casual.
"Thanks, you had to go there didn't you?" Greg went a little redder than before. "I don't know what's worse. Having you sitting there enjoying your ice cream way too much or the idiot who decided to put a light bulb up his ass and then wondered why he was bleeding so much when he came into the ER."
I nearly choked on my mouthful of ice cream at Greg's story. I had to cover my mouth so I didn't spew ice cream everywhere while I laughed.
"You aren't serious, are you?" I asked when I'd calmed down enough to speak. "Did someone really come in with that? It sounds like an urban myth."
"Sadly, I am deadly serious." Greg shook his head. "This week seemed to be people enjoying their vegetables in a way they aren't meant to be enjoyed. Or putting things in holes were they really aren't meant to go."
"I'm never eating anything dick shaped again." I shuddered, scooping up another spoon full of ice cream. "Just leave me with the rest of this and I'll be happy forever."
"Yeah, you're sounding very happy over there," Greg teased, his face going back to a normal colour. "I thought of you while I was making it."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Greg looked like he wanted to take them back immediately. I quirked up an eyebrow at him, a smile tugging on my lips as I watched him fumble for an excuse.
"No matter what I'm say, I'm going to make that worse," Greg groaned, reaching up to rub his face. He'd gone bright red again. "I'm going to eat my ice cream and be quiet. Lets laugh at the movie and Hollywoods lack of trigger discipline in movies."
"Nice save." I decided not to tease Greg for once in my life. We'd both had a few beers so no doubt that was contributing to his lack of filter. Besides, he could take my ice cream away from me and that'd be awful.
"I blame the handful of painkillers I took before I came over." Greg shook his head. "Beer and codeine doesn't mix."
"Naughty, you should know better," I playfully scolded him. He'd given me enough lectures about it.
"Didn't you know Doctor's make the worst patients? That's behind SHIELD agents of course." Greg reached over and nudged me with his foot playfully. "Especially STRIKE."
"No arguments here about that." I gently kicked him back. We were like a pair of teenagers playing footsies for a few seconds. "Hang on, I'll finish my ice cream and then kick your ass."
"There is no world where I have the illusion I might stand a chance against you." Greg tried to pin my leg between his, but I managed to twist out of the way too quickly for him. "Doesn't mean I won't try though. Don't spill your ice cream."
"Don't spill your dignity," I shot back. It wasn't my best comeback but it made Greg laugh. We both ate our ice cream sundaes, watching each other out of the corner of our eyes. I savoured mine, taking my time trying to lull Greg into a false sense of security. Plus the ice cream was way too good to gulp down and not appreciate.
"You have chocolate on your face," Greg broke the silence when I was down to my last spoonful.
"Where?" I reached up to wipe my face. My hand came away clean so I shot Greg a disbelieving look.
"Right here." Greg reached over and wiped his chocolate covered thumb over my face. It left a sticky streak along my cheek. My shriek was not dignified at all as I clambered to get away from him. I dipped my fingers in my bowl, abandoning my last mouthful in favour of revenge.
Greg was far too slow to get away from me, in one swift movement I was in his lap pinning him down with my legs. He was laughing far too hard to try and get away. I wiped my own sticky fingers across his face, leaving a chocolate smear over his lips, chin and halfway up his cheek.
"That was mean." I tried to scold him but I was laughing far too hard to be taken seriously. It felt really good to laugh. The memory of the shitty day and what happened in it was long gone. Greg reached up and wiped his face, laughing as well. I'd done a good job at making a mess of his face. There was chocolate smeared everywhere.
"Yeah but you should have seen the look on your face," Greg said through his laughter. "Here, let me get that."
I wrinkled my nose and went to squirm out of Greg's reach as soon as he licked his finger and went for my face. I was too slow though, he managed to wrap an arm around my waist and pinned me while he rubbed his spit covered finger across my face. It made me break into a fresh fit of giggles.
"Your turn." I got my arm out of his grip and licked my thumb. As I went to wipe my thumb across his face, he playfully caught it between his teeth. I looked at him, both eyebrows raised and tried not to laugh again. He looked so damn proud of himself. I'd never seen him this carefree before. I think this was the most I'd ever seen him drink and the beer was definitely helping my good mood.
"Are you gonna let go?" I asked, trying to pull my thumb out of his mouth. Greg shook his head and ran his tongue along my thumb. I wrinkled my nose again and tugged a little harder, but he held firm. I felt a nervous flutter as I looked down at his face. This had gone a bit beyond playful jostling. I was suddenly very aware of how close I was pushed up against Greg's body. All of a sudden, it was like a light switch flipped. I could almost feel the tension crackling in the air between us.
Greg's lips closed around my thumb, as he gently sucked the last of the chocolate off. It was like a bolt of electricity hit me. My body was responding in a way I didn't think would happen again for a very long time. My heart was pounding as I watched his every movement. Greg's eyes never left mine as he very slowly licked the last of the chocolate off before letting go of my thumb.
"Can't waste good Hershey's," Greg said, his voice soft and hesitant.
I could see his adams apple bob up and down a few times as he swallowed hard. The few beers had given me some much needed courage as I ground my hips against his lap. This was it. I wouldn't get any opportunity like this again. Besides, my body was screaming at me to make a move. For once my brain wasn't talking my body down about the idea. Greg was hard against me, I could feel the erection straining against his jeans. Opportunities didn't get any more perfect than this.
"It's all over your lips," I murmured. I didn't hesitate. I leant forward and kissed him.
He made a noise of surprise against my lips as I kissed him and didn't respond for a second. I was about to pull back, thinking I'd really misread this situation. But his hand came up and tangled in my hair. Greg pulled me in closer, kissing me back. It got demanding very quickly. My tongue danced over his and I couldn't stop the breathless moan as his hands came down to grab my ass. It felt so good to have someone kiss me again.
I was so caught in our make out, I didn't notice Greg shifting us until I was flat on my back, looking up at him. I grinned and pulled him back down for another kiss. I could feel him grinning again my lips as he kissed me again, a little more gently this time. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him in closer. Greg broke the kiss, but instead of pulling back, started trailing kisses down my neck. He hit my sensitive spot, right on my pulse point. There was no holding back the sound that was halfway between a groan and moan. Greg got the idea right away, his teeth sinking into my sensitive skin and he sucked hard enough to leave a bruise. I writhed underneath him, feeling the sensation shooting straight through my body and right to my groin. I latched my legs around him harder, rubbing up against him trying to get some good friction between us. It felt amazing.
Greg pulled back, shifting so he could reach the zipper of my flight suit. I wasted no time in helping him get it unzipped and wriggled out of it. It was awkward enough doing it by myself, let alone having someone on top of me. Once I was free of it, Greg hovered above me with his eyes openly roving over my body. Even in my very unattractive sports bra and plain underwear, the look he was giving me made me feel like I was the sexiest woman he'd ever seen.
He lent down and kissed me again, his hand coming up he cupped my breast through the bra. His thumb brushed against my nipples, rubbing a firm circle around it. My mind short circuited for a long few moments at the feel of it. Through the fog of desire, I could barely get my mind to work. But my hands knew what to do. Greg was grinding up against me and there was far too many layers between him and me. My hands went for the belt of his jeans and I somehow managed to get my fumbling fingers to work enough to unbuckle it. Greg stilled against my lips and as my hand found the button on his jeans, he pulled back.
"Fuck." The breathless curse left his mouth as Greg shot backwards so quickly, he nearly went over the edge of the couch. "Fuck, Kari. I'm so sorry."
His words came out in a breathless jumble. He ran his hands through his now messy hair, swearing under his breath as his chest heaved. He put as much distance as humanely possibly between the two of us on the couch.
"Greg?" I suddenly felt very vulnerable lying on the couch in nothing but my underwear. The mood from before was gone in an instant. What the hell had I done wrong?
"We shouldn't be doing this," Greg said, swallowing hard. He was actively avoiding my gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
"I kissed you first." I didn't know what else to say. The desire from before was now being replaced by a pit of dread in my stomach. Greg got up so fast, he nearly tangled his feet up.
"We can't do this." Greg still wouldn't look at me. "Look, I'll ring you in the morning when we're both sober. But this can't happen. I'm sorry."
I was sober now. The beer had barely affected me, beyond giving me a slight buzz and very relaxed evening. Well, until about 45 seconds ago it had been relaxing. I had no words as Greg got up and very abruptly left. He didn't even pause at the door to pull his shoes on. He grabbed them and he was gone.
I sat on the couch staring at the door for what seemed like an eternity. Tears welled in my eyes as the rejection hit me like a slap in the face.
What the hell had I done wrong? By the way he'd kissed me the feeling was being returned, at least until I touched his pants. Had I pushed too far? God I was such an idiot. This is why I was never going to have someone else again. I couldn't even get making out with a guy at the right moment. My throat closed and I sat back, hugging a cushion feeling completely miserable. The shitty day just got shittier.
Before the tears could spill over, my phone vibrated on the coffee table. It'd been silent all night. The sudden noise in the quiet apartment made me jump. I was going to ignore it, but I saw Coulson's name on the screen. I swallowed back the lump in my throat, picking up the phone and scanned the message.
There's a mission for escorting a scientist out of Iran and back to Odessa in the Ukraine. Natasha is going as well. Flight leaves at midnight tonight. Do you want to tag along?
I didn't hesitate in my answer. This was almost an answer to my prayers. Anything was better than sitting at home crying over my rejection. My fingers flew over the screen the fastest I'd ever sent a text message.
Count me in.
Authors Note
This chapter ran away from me a little. To be fair I did have some of it written before, so it wasn't hard to get out another quick update. I'm so excited for this part of the story. I have to admit, its nice to get back into the original storyline.
So I've been getting questions about when the Avengers will happen. It's a bit of a shaky timeline in the MCU. There's over a year between Thor happening and the Avengers, but there's also evidence that it was nearly 2 years. Its one of those things that never really got addressed. So I'm sticking with the over a year idea. There's lots and lots to happen in the next year of Kari's life, so I may end up pushing it out a little. But there's still lots of action and character development to happen as well.
As always, thank you so much to everyone who reviews! I love your theories and guesses about where the story is going.
Until next time.