In the Thick of Things
by ALC Punk!

At least, if Domino had been paying attention (or had asked), she would have known this. As it was, she didn't know it. Didn't know anything about the bar brawl that had started when two girlfriends kissed. Not until it fell across her table, spilling her tequila. Without really looking, she reached out and grabbed one collar. "Hey."

Someone took a swing at her, and Domino found herself in the middle of milling bodies. Arms and feet and fists. She dealt with them, snapping at least two wrists and breaking five noses before she ended up on the sidelines. Which gave her the opportunity to observe the form of the blond man who'd been sitting at the bar when this all began.

Clint Barton didn't know about the kiss, either, but he figured all was fair in love and bar brawls.

And he needed some tension relief after his recent run-in with Natasha. Old flames always did bad things to him. Maybe Steve's angst-capabilities were rubbing off on him.

Sadly, the brawl was over almost before it began. Clint definitely wasn't relaxed yet. He grumbled internally as the combatants were pushed out into the street where a group of cops began indiscriminately breaking them up using clubs.

"Hey."

A hand snagged his wrist, tugging him to one side and down the block into an alley. He eyed the brunette with vague interest. "Thanks. I guess."

She shrugged. "Figured you wouldn't want to get sent to jail." Her lips twisted into a sardonic smirk. "What with being a card-carrying Avenger and all."

He eyed her, trying to place the violet eyes and dark patch of skin around one of them. "Oh. God, it's you."

"Me?"

"You." He sighed and stepped back. "I've heard lots about you from Natasha."

"That girl talks too damn much in her sleep."

He smirked, "So she does."

The brunette fluttered her lashes, "Wanna buy a girl a drink, since her other one got knocked off her table?"

"Going to try corrupting me?"

"If Natasha's right, you don't need any."

"C'mon," he stepped closer to her, smirking, "I'm sure we can find better things to do than drink ourselves stupid.

Her eyebrow arched, "You offering to make an honest woman of me?"

"Only if you get pregnant."

She snorted again, "Got any place in mind, or should we just fuck against the wall?"

"Well, when you put it like that," he leaned in, pushing her against the wall, and kissed her. He knew this was strange and weird, but he'd been in a fight, and his blood was still dancing and she was right here.

Her lips were cold for a moment, and then they warmed up.

Abruptly, he pulled back.

"Going too fast for you, Avenger-boy?"

"No." He reached out and touched her cheek. "I just prefer a better venue."

"Ah. That hotel room?"

"Mmm."

-=-

Gravel was crunching under his feet (though not hers, he noticed) when she paused. "I thought we were heading for a hotel?" This was the fourth rooftop they'd traversed, and he wasn't strained yet, but he hadn't been, well, planning on this sort of activity.

A snicker reached him across the rooftop and she looked back, her pale skin flashing light in the shadows. "We are."

"Taking the scenic route?"

"You could say that." She had moved, sidling closer to him.

Automatically, his hands reached for her to find that she was reaching for him. She laughed again. "So predictable."

He shrugged and tugged her against him. "If you say so."

Domino rubbed herself against him, snaking her arms around his neck. "Definitely."

He caught her waist in his hands and held her there. As his brain began assimilating the way she felt and the fact that there was a lithe and beautiful woman grinding slowly against him, Clint tried to remember that he had wanted a bed.

Of course, the rooftop was beginning to look more and more comfortable.

Then they were kissing, and Clint was seriously reconsidering waiting until they found a bed. He wasn't, after all, that old. The only objection, he decided hazily as her hand slid down the front of his pants, was the gravel.

Her hand knew exactly what it was doing, and so he groaned and pulled back. "We need--"

"Platform." She panted, and he found both of his hands under her shirt, stroking the cool flesh. "Ten feet -- behind..."

Platform. Right. Some part of his brain prodded. "Bed?"

Her hand tightened on him. "Platform."

"Definitely."

The way to the platform was paved with groping and kissing and Clint sliding his hand down the back of her pants. She lost her shirt, at some point, and he picked her up and nuzzled her breasts before setting her down on the raised buttress of concrete and proceeding to kiss and lick every inch of the skin he could reach. And he could reach a *lot*. She was very limber, and contributed, sliding her hands and lips and tongue here and there until he thought he'd go insane from the feel of her.

Somehow, they got undressed enough. Somehow, he rolled onto his back, and she straddled him. And then, GOD, but he wasn't thinking about anything except the way she felt and the way she looked and the way she moved. His hands reached up for her, running across her pale skin.

Apparently, fights made her very horny, because she came very quickly, grinding down onto him and giving a little panting gasp when he bit down on a nipple that was suddenly presented in the vicinity of his lips.

Then she flicked her fingers against his chest, and he re-established a rhythm. This time, he pulled her down, kissing and then rolling them until her legs were wrapped around his waist, and he could *feel* her teeth around his tongue, but she wasn't quite biting, not yet.

Fights made him horny, too.

The energy which had pushed her against a wall in an alley broke over him, and he gave a cry as he exploded, sweat slipping down his face and back from the effort.

He sagged down onto her, getting his breath under control.

A soft laugh echoed around them. "I guess that hotel room's out?"

"No." He licked at the damp skin between her breasts. "I'm just getting started."

"Good -- fuck." Her breath exited on a whimper as his fingers slid into her. "That's very -- good."

"Thank you." He smirked and began sucking at first one nipple and then the other, fingers moving in and out of her in a lazy, slow movement.

Her body spasmed around him, and then he had the pleasure (no pun intended) of watching her orgasm again, her eyes wide, her mouth open. This time, a string of obscenities rippled across the rooftop, but he didn't care. She was strangely beautiful in this state.

"Well," he said as she relaxed, "I think we should retire to the hotel."

"I don't know," she smirked, "This could be the start of a brand new friendship."

"With benefits?"

"Hrm." She purred at him as he stood and began pulling his clothes back on. "Could be."

-f-

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© 2005 ALC Punk!