Maybe you’re not thinking hard enough
"Maybe you’re not thinking hard enough."
Daisy glares at the man staring down at her, a supercilious smile on his face. "Maybe you're an asshole," she suggests in a pleasant tone. "Actually, there's no 'maybe' about that. You are an asshole."
"Silence!" His hand flashes out, and Daisy doesn't have time to move her head before he strikes her hard across the cheek: she'll have fingermarks there later, she's sure.
She hears Phil's gasp from beside her, but she doesn't turn to look at him: she has to keep her focus on Horst and what he's going to do next. She's fairly sure the Watchdog has no idea that the men who'd secured her in this chair earlier had failed to ensure she can't use her powers – and the ropes tying her wrists are nearly loose as she's been stealthily vibrating them apart behind her back while Horst has been interrogating her and Coulson.
Horst half turns to one of the other men, gesturing for him to bring something from the table of tools that's along the back wall, and Daisy feels the last strands of rope part company behind her back. She springs up, both hands flung out in front of her, her left hand is aimed towards the corner of the room where 3 of the Watchdogs are gathered, while her right hand's aimed straight ahead. Her powers slam into all five men simultaneously and the 3 in the corner go down immediately, unconscious before they even hit the ground.
The fourth man goes down; Horst however staggers backwards, but doesn't actually go down, and Daisy frowns furiously, biting her lower lip in concentration, intensifying the power of her vibrations as he yells in panic. His yells finally cut off, and she staggers, almost falling over, but she can't do that yet. She has to free Coulson, and get them the hell out of Dodge.
"Daisy," he says, radiating anxiety as she forces herself to turn around, then grabs at the back of his chair to steady herself.
"'M'okay," she mumbles, knowing that he'll know it's a lie. She fumbles with the knots in the ropes, then gives up and vibrates the things apart.
As soon as Coulson's arms are free, he springs up, then turns and catches hold of her as she's definitely about to fall over this time.
"Fracking Watchdogs," she mutters, and is vaguely aware that he's picking her up before she passes out.
DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ
When she comes to, Daisy finds herself lying on the back seat of the SUV, which is being driven at speed.
"Phil?" The hand on her shoulder tightens, and she starts to move, trying to sit up.
"Steady," Coulson says quietly, and he shifts in his own seat, then eases her into a sitting position.
She sees Piper is at the wheel, and catches the relieved look on the other woman's face when she checks the driving mirror and sees Daisy's up. She gives Piper as reassuring a smile as she can manage, then turns her attention to Coulson, whose vibrations are full of the anxiety he's feeling but trying to hide.
"Hey," she says softly.
"Hey." He pulls a large bar of chocolate from his pocket and unwraps some, then passes it to her, and she accepts it with both greed and gratitude. "Before you eat that," he says, just as she's about to inelegantly stuff the whole lot into her face. He passes her a drinks bottle, and she stifles a sigh, then uncaps it and drinks about half the weirdly-flavoured high-protein, high-calorie shake that Jemma's still experimenting with.
"This stuff still tastes weird," she tells him in a low voice.
"I know," he says. "I'm sorry."
"Hey, not your fault," she says.
"I'm going to get together with Agent Simmons – if we ever get five minutes to spare – and see if we can't improve the flavour of the thing."
She shakes her head, smiling fondly at him. "You're the best," she tells him, and smirks when he blushes a little. She downs the rest of the shake, hands the bottle back to him, then devours the chocolate – she doesn't stuff the whole half bar into her mouth in one go, but it's certainly gone very quickly.
"If you see a diner or even a 7-Eleven before we get back to the airfield," he says to Piper, "sing out."
Piper nods. "I wouldn't say no to a cronut," she says, and Daisy chuckles. "But maybe we should start bringing more than snacks or whatever with us?"
"We probably should," Coulson agrees. He raises an eyebrow at Daisy. "Director?"
She rolls her eyes at him – he takes a ridiculous amount of pleasure in using her (relatively) new title – and he smirks. "It's a good idea, Piper. Well done."
Piper grins, clearly pleased with her contribution, and Daisy tells Coulson, "For that, you're buying."
He chuckles, clearly completely unfazed by her reaction. "Done."
DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ
They reach the airfield, and make their way up to the command centre, Daisy letting May know they're aboard so she can take off. "We'll debrief back at the base," she tells Coulson. "I need to shower and crash."
He nods, and she feels his palm against the small of her back as they make their way through the Z1. "Do you need anything else to eat?"
"No, I'm good."
"Okay. Will let me take a look at your cheek?"
"My cheek?" For a moment she's confused as she'd quite forgotten about Horst slapping her. She reaches up and touches it, and realises that there's dried blood there, and then she remembers that Horst had been wearing a ring, and she guesses it cut her cheek when he hit her.
"Yeah, thanks Phil."
He nods, and she pauses by the Infirmary as he nips in to grab a handful of supplies, then they head up to the Director's cabin. He settles her on the foot of the bed in the sleeping area, then proceeds to clean away the dried blood, before he puts some antibiotic cream on the gash. "Do you want me to put a dressing on it?" he asks diffidently.
"No thanks. It's not that bad."
"Okay." He wipes his fingers clean, then cups her chin and tilts her head up to the light. "I don't think it'll leave a scar, or if it does, it won't be too obvious."
Daisy swallows hard, trying to speak around the lump in her throat that his tenderness has caused: his hand is warm and gentle, despite his calloused fingertips, and she feels like she could just melt into his arms.
"Well, what's one more scar?" she asks, forcing herself to speak lightly.
He frowns. "You have scars enough," he says, his tone a little fierce. She's not surprised by the tone – she knows well enough that he's very attached to her, and that he cares deeply about her getting hurt.
"So've you," she says, reaching up to lay her hand over his heart, and the scar there from his encounter with Loki.
"Daisy," he says, and there's something in his voice – something she hasn't heard before – and she doesn't stop to think, she just reaches up with her other hand to grab the back of his neck and pull his head down so she can kiss him.
He moans softly, and she forgets all about how tired she is, and grabs him, pulling him off balance and down onto the bed with her. She straddles him, pinning his body to the bed, and she feels a surge of desire, which is echoed by his vibrations.
"Okay?" she asks, her voice gone husky.
"Yes," he says eagerly, and he's already sliding his hands up under the tank she wears beneath her fieldsuit jacket. He clasps her breasts, and they both moan as he flicks her nipples with his thumbs.
After several minutes of fumbling and frantic kissing, they're both naked, and she barely waits for him to ask, "Do we need a condom?" before she's sinking down onto his impressively large dick.
"Daisy." His moan of pleasure thrills her, and she rides him slowly at first, until they're both so desperate that she relents and picks up the pace.
Afterwards they sprawl side by side on the bed, and she observes. "I'm glad I didn't get as far as the shower."
He chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath her face as she rests with her head on his heart. "Probably is just as well," he agrees. "Do you want to do that now?"
"In a minute," she says. "Too comfy to move."
"Okay." He strokes a hand up and down her arm, and she thinks she might just postpone the shower and go to sleep where she is – she's certain she'll sleep better wrapped in Phil's arms and with his contented vibrations seeping into her own.