SHIELD Agent Eleanor Flint

Chapter 15

-Adult Content Warning- 

What turned into a couple of writing exercises, turned out to be kinda book worthy? If you feel uncomfortable reading *adult content*, feel free to skip this chapter. I'm not offended. But if you do choose to read on... cool? I guess? This is my first time writing things like this, so if it's not up to your standard, I'm sorry. But this sort of stuff can help you open up as a writer so I thought I'd try it. 

-End Warning- 

Us group of SHIELD Agents were the last people at the hotel bar when it came around to 9 p.m., save for the old couple who sat by the fireplace and gave us strange looks each time we laughed loudly. It was the first time I had seen Rumlow laugh fully and it was a little strange, but I was glad that he was enjoying himself. Everyone was enjoying themselves in someway with alcoholic beverages in front of them. 

Each of us already had one shot of tequila in honor of a successful mission. Natasha, Clint, Coulson and I, were a little ahead of everyone from drinking champagne at the gala. I was in the lead with having drunk a glass of whiskey. I may or may not have downed my glass in Richardson's office after the mission to calm my nerves. But, now was the time for us to relax on our last night at the hotel room before we headed back to HQ. 

I took a sip from my martini as Coulson told one of his old mission stories. As he told it, Sitwell made matching facial expressions, leading us to assume that he had heard this story more than once. Near the end of the story a few of us were giggling because of Sitwell's own retelling through facial expressions and miming. Coulson finished his story and we all clapped. 

"Now, before Coulson starts another story," Clint piped up. "Let's give a hand for Ellie, for flirting with Rudd Richardson!" 

I rested my chin on my hand and laughed. Our crowd lightly clapped and Henry nudged me with his elbow. Clint nodded to the waitress behind the bar and she got us another tray of tequila shots. We all raised our glasses to me and my flirting skills before downing the alcoholic drink. The feeling of intoxication was slowly reaching me, but I was determined to muscle through it. 

"We also need to thank Natasha for passing out, otherwise I'd be knocked out cold before STRIKE even reached me." I said. "What happened exactly?" 

Natasha smiled and shook her head. Clint laughed and Coulson took a sip of his beer. 

"It was the first thing that came to my head as a distraction," Natasha explained. "Everyone becomes involved when a helpless woman faints." 

"It surprised me, too," Clint added. "One minute she's next to me, and the next she's on the floor and someone is screaming 'Get some water'!" 

We all laughed again and Henry slipped his hand around my waist to keep me from slipping off the barstool. I held on to the counter to stabilize myself and looked at Henry with flushed cheeks. 

"You alright?" He chuckled. 

"Mhm," I hummed with a smile. "As long as you hold on to me, I should be fine." 

Henry smirked and tucked a strand of hair that had fallen from my bun behind my ear. "I'll make sure that I don't let go." 

"And that was quite the punch Flint threw at Richardson," Sitwell added. "Knocked him right out." 

"I didn't like him like that," I laughed. "He smelled like whiskey and cheese." 

"And who taught you to punch like that?" Henry nudged me with a smile. 

Clint cleared his throat and I felt my ears turn pink. "I believe I did." 

An awkward silence fell over the bar and I took a sip from my martini. Henry readjusted in his seat and looked at Clint, who had his beer bottle to his lips. He gave an unapologetic look and Henry smirked.