I was watching AoS the other night (an older episode from Season 1) and laughing to myself over the way Simmons gets a bit girlish and silly whenever there's a muscle-bound man in her lab. And this little bit of porn-with-not-much-plot popped into my head.

This, for me, fits in between Season 1 and Season 2. Coulson and Trip are off the Bus, being busy with S.H.I.E.L.D. stuff, May's in charge, and Fitz and Simmons are still her lab crew. Skye is with them, but they are a Specialist short. Coulson assigns them one but May doesn't reveal his identity to her team yet.

Incidentally, how are Hawkeye and Simmons not a thing? I found ONE fanfiction featuring them as a couple, and it has him dying in her arms. NOT COOL. I'd ship these two. Simmons likes muscly guys and I could totally see Clint falling for a brainy chick.

So here's a big pile of smut. It gets physical in Chapter 2

Chapter 1.

"Thor."

"No, it's Captain America."

"Seriously, Thor's arms."

"Captain America's ass."

Jemma watched in amusement as May and Skye toasted each other with their glasses and knocked back their shots. "You two. Get your minds out of the gutter."

They were in Agent May's quarters at the Hub. They weren't leaving again until the following day and May had invited them around for the evening after realising Skye and Jemma were at a loose end. Skye had arrived with a bottle of bourbon. They'd just cracked it open. After drinking May's bottle of vodka.

"Come on, Jemma," Skye turned to her, eyes glittering. "You can't tell us you don't have a thing for guys with muscles. I've seen how you stutter when you get a good specimen in the lab to poke at. You used to practically drool all over Ward every time you had to stitch him up."

"I did not," Jemma said, trying for dignity. May and Skye both laughed at her. "Well, maybe I did, but at least I'm not lusting over guys I've only seen on TV!"

"I've met Thor," May pointed out. "And Steve Rogers. Which is why I'm right, Skye. Thor wins."

"He's not even human, it's cheating," Skye said, pouring another shot each, after glaring at Jemma until she reluctantly drank hers.

"Well, Steve Rogers had to have the super-serum. Did you see his photos from beforehand?" May shook her head. "He was a weedy little runt before it. Totally cheating."

"You're both wrong," Jemma replied, suddenly feeling warm. Damn, that was good bourbon.

"Oh yeah, so who's the most bangable Avenger, in your opinion? Tell me it's not Doctor Banner. I mean, I know he's got the brains and all, but the giant green rage monster…" May was several shots ahead of Jemma and her tongue had clearly been loosened by the alcohol.

"No! I don't have a death wish."

"And I know you hate Tony Stark for being a total asshole because we've bitched him out together more than once," Skye slurred, "so that leaves – who does that leave, May? Black Widow? I mean, she's hot, but I thought you were straight, Jemma…"

"I am straight!"

"Ah, the delicious Agent Barton, then," May grinned as Jemma totally failed to suppress her blush.

"Who?" Skye looked blank.

"Hawkeye. The archer," Jemma said. May was smirking at her, dammit.

"Oh! Scrumptious McArms," Skye giggled.

"Seriously, you're looking at his arms and you don't appreciate Thor's? There is something wrong with you," May shook her head, grabbed the bottle and poured them all another shot. The last one had gone down easy, Jemma thought in surprise, looking at her empty glass.

"Like I said," she knocked back the fresh shot and grinned, suddenly feeling loose and happy, "Thor's not human. Agent Barton is. He's a magnificent, unenhanced specimen and I would just love…" she ran down, and Skye laughed and poured her another shot.

"Come on, Jemma, don't stop there. Tell us your favourite Hawkeye fantasy."

It took two more shots for them to coax it out of her, but in the end, Jemma caved.

"I've had dreams," she admitted, "of him holding me up against the wall with those arms. I bet he's an absolute animal in bed. Agent Romanoff's a lucky woman."

May burst out laughing. "You don't seriously believe that they're sleeping together?"

"The whole of S.H.I.E.L.D. knows they're sleeping together!" Jemma said indignantly.

"I didn't," Skye protested.

"Well, they aren't. Trust me on this. I went through the Academy with Barton and I've worked with him many times in the field since. And with Romanoff. They are not sleeping together. She treats him like her aggravating little brother."

"Really?" Jemma sighed. "Dammit, May, you shouldn't have told me that! Now I can fantasize about him without worrying about the Black Widow finding out and killing me, I'll totally be dreaming about him every night!"

Skye cracked up laughing. "Oh, I have got to meet this guy who's got Jemma all in a tizz!" She reached for the bottle and cursed when she realised it was empty. "Dammit, we're out!"

"We've really had enough if I'm telling you about my Hawkeye crush," Jemma joined in the giggles as they looked at the two empty bottles on the table. "Come on, Skye. Time for us to crash." She hooked her arm in the other girl's.

"Want a hand back to your quarters?" May stood up.

"We'll be fine," Skye and Jemma chorused, and she grinned and showed them out. Returning to the small table they'd been sitting at, she sat back down and cast her eyes up to the ceiling.

"I told you so. You really should stop stalking the poor girl and make a move."

For a moment, there was total silence. And then the air vent lifted soundlessly upwards and a man dropped through it and landed in a crouch on the floor. Above average height, solidly built, he had short dark blond hair and striking blue-green eyes.

"You don't have to be right all the time, Melinda," he chided, setting a full bottle of vodka on the table. May smiled at the brand name visible on the bottle.

"Very good, Barton, you remembered." She cracked the seal on the bottle and poured herself a shot.

"And you shouldn't have drunk those poor girls under the table like that. You were definitely leading Agent Simmons." He perched on the back of the chair Jemma had lately vacated. "I'm sure it wasn't a valid confession."

"She's too shy to own up when she's sober," May retorted, "but I've seen her watching you. As you frequently and oh-so-casually cross her path."

"Fuck off." A slight flush appeared on Barton's high cheekbones. "I do not."

"Seriously?" May arched a brow at him. "Clint. We've been friends for how long now?"

"Thirteen years, or thereabouts," he sighed, "which only gives point to the argument she's too young for me. Which conversation I believe we've had once or twice before."

"You're full of shit and not exactly snatching the cradle. And I know very well that you recommended her and her buddy Fitz to Coulson."

"Fitz designed my taser arrowheads when he was still in the Academy!" Clint protested.

"And you had your eye on Jemma even then, don't deny it."

The archer groaned, slipped down to sit properly on the chair and plonked his forehead hard on the table. "God, I'm such a lecherous old bastard. Why do I have this obsession about that gorgeous brainy young thing?"

"You're an idiot. She's not quite eight years younger than you, which is bugger all and perfectly acceptable. You heard what she wants, Barton. You should give it to her."

Clint had lifted his head to look at his friend, and at her words, he swallowed, his pupils suddenly blowing out with lust. "It was – it was just a fantasy of hers. She said so."

"Yours too, from the look on your face. You could always start something and give her the opportunity to say no," May pointed out. She laughed as he visibly shifted in his chair. "I tell you what, I still owe you one from that time in Jakarta. I'll pay you back with a shot at Jemma on her own. The Bus, tomorrow, oh nine hundred hours, before we lift off."

What do you think? Yay or nay? Please let me know in comments!

(And yes, I am still writing the sequel to TAGD. Be patient. It's happening.)