Chapter 51

Clint and Jemma

"Oh my God are you really injured?" Pretty much every medical space on the Bus was already being utilised, so Jemma pulled Clint hastily along the row to her cubicle. He came willingly, unhooking his quiver on the way.

"You'd better check me over."

"Oh, love," anxious, she pressed him to sit down on the bed, helped him unhook the zips and buckles of his combat suit. Taking a moment to appreciate just how he looked in it. She'd never seen him in his Avenging suit, only his plain black S.H.I.E.L.D. gear. This one fit him even better. After a moment she had him stripped to the waist, running gentle fingers over his exposed skin. "Where does it hurt?"

He grinned up at her, sitting on the edge of her bed, settling his hands on her hips and bringing her in to stand between his knees. "I only took one hit."

"Where?" alarmed, she looked him over, but could see no mark on his skin. Just smooth, rippling muscle shifting easily as he drew her a little closer.

One of Clint's hands eased around behind Jemma, pressing into the small of her back, pulling her against him. And then he lifted his free hand and touched his cheek. "Here."

She didn't get it for a moment. And then she remembered slapping him.

"Clint, you shit."

"Did I have you worried, Jemma?"

"Of course you did, you idiot!" Sighing at the look on his face, she lifted her hands to his cheeks, stroking lightly, feeling the slight rasp of his stubble. "Clint, I was terrified for you down in those tunnels. You didn't see what it did to Mack."

"No, and I had to hear about it from Trip," Clint arched his eyebrows at her. "I get that you're angry with me for what you see as me running off into danger and leaving you behind, Jemma. But the fact is, I was doing my job."

"So was I," she said defensively.

He tightened his grip on her, pulling her hard against his body. She couldn't help herself from running her hands into his hair, feeling the short, spiky strands between her fingers.

"You promised to call me if your team got out of their depth, Jemma. At what point were you going to make that call, hmm? You can't tell me that if we hadn't got there today, things might not have gone very differently, and a great deal more messily. Especially considering what Raina turned into." He shuddered at the memory of the yellow-eyed thing that was hopefully permanently sealed into the underground city.

"I wanted to," she confessed, letting him pull her down to sit in his lap, resting her head against his shoulder. "But – Coulson specifically ordered me and Fitz not to talk to anyone outside the team about the mission."

"I'm going to have to teach you my policy on which orders to obey and which not to," Clint murmured, distracted by Jemma's pretty bottom wiggling on his thighs as she settled herself. "But we're already planning to have a very long conversation with Coulson about some of his decisions over the last couple of months. As far as we're concerned joint venture means something other than what he apparently thinks it does."

"Who's 'we'?" Jemma asked curiously.

"The Avengers. All of us."

"And wait, what do you mean about Coulson's decisions? What do you know about them?"

Clint smiled, playing with the buttons on Jemma's blouse. "Did you really think that we'd leave the information-gathering to you, Skye and May, when we knew you'd been ordered not to talk about S.H.I.E.L.D. stuff?"

Jemma's mouth fell open. "You were spying on us! Who…?"

"First off, I prefer to think of it as keeping an eye on our interests. Secondly – I don't know. Nat set it up. She's the spy, after all. I'm just the sniper."

His eyes were wide and innocent, and Jemma wasn't fooled for a moment. She also knew very well that he wouldn't tell her any more. Sighing, she snuggled closer to him.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you earlier," she mumbled.

"I forgive you." He lifted her chin, kissed her lightly. "But just think, Jemma. You'd never forgive yourself if one of your team had been lost down there and you realised afterwards that you could probably have prevented it with one damn phone call."

Her lips trembled, tears beginning to slip from her eyes. "I was so scared," Jemma whimpered, hating herself for being so weak, but she couldn't help it. "So scared when you went down there and I thought you might not come back…"

"Shh." He kissed her quivering lips tenderly. "I'm here. I love you, Jemma, I'll always come back to you. No matter what."

"Clint," she sobbed, breaking down at last, "I could have lost you down there!"

"You won't lose me, Jemma. I'm yours. Always." He took a deep breath. "Marry me."

"What?" she choked, her tears stopping instantly with the shock of his words.

"I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone, Jemma Simmons. And I don't want to go through another day like this one ever again. I want to know that you'll tell me everything important that's going on with you. And the only way that I can ask you to have that much trust in me, is for me to show you how much you matter to me." Gently, he eased her off his lap to sit on the bed, and went to one knee before her, holding both her hands in his.

"So I'm asking you again, Jemma Simmons. Will you marry me?"

Jemma was too choked up to speak, too stunned by the enormity of what was happening. She knew the depths of Clint's reserve, his very good reasons for being wary of letting people get close to him. She knew how hopelessly deep she was in love with him. But she'd resigned herself to his one day pushing her away, unable to take the final step into commitment, or perhaps in the best-case scenario they'd just continue as they were, seeing each other when they could in between their other commitments.

The fact that he was here before her on his knees, his eyes frightened, obviously fearful that she would reject him but nevertheless determined to try…

"Yes."

You'll have to wait until tomorrow to see Clint's reaction…

… hiding under the couch again…