Title: Long Nights
Author: doc_sock/doc_socktopus
Disclaimer: Marvel's, not mine.
Fandom: New Avengers
Characters: Jessica Jones/Luke Cage, Danny Rand, Danielle Jones-Cage
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Words: 300
Summary: Jessica Jones has a secret
Notes: Thanks to shadowkitty for the quick beta. Written for kimouski for this prompt. Um, apparently I kind of fail at following prompts beyond basic pairings. :D:


Jessica thinks he don't know. Like he could possibly not notice her comin' in later and later every night. Or that sometimes she sneaks out of bed in the middle of the night after the kid's asleep. He thinks maybe he should be pissed she thinks he's that much of an idiot.

But he ain't, 'cause it's Jess and it makes her happy. If she don't want him knowing yet, that's her business. Still, he can't help yankin' her chain when she's feeding Danielle. She'd come out of the bedroom that mornin' looking like hell warmed over, favoring her left side.

“Rough night?” he asks.

The look she gives him makes him think maybe he's not that subtle about knowing. “What?”

“You don't look so good, girl.” He drags a chair beside her and wipes a smear of cereal off Danielle's cheek. “Up with the kid a lot?”

“Oh,” she says. “Oh, yeah. That's- yeah.”

He smirks. She still thinks she's hidin' it good.

When she comes home late with a fat lip and bruises on her cheekbone, he doesn't say nothin', just hands her a bag of frozen peas and chuckles when she flinches from the cold against her face.

“Yeah, real fucking funny,” she snarls at him when he jokes about tough interviews, and stomps into the bedroom.

He goes out for a couple beers with Danny, only to have his nice, relaxing night interrupted by Killer Croc taking the bar hostage. He and Danny are about to deal with the problem, when the mask that was chasin' Croc bursts through the window and sends him flying across the room with a punch to the side of the head.

She meets his eyes, and he gives her a thumbs up before turning back to his beer.

“How long have you known?” she asks later that night, when he's helping her patch up the gashes from the window glass.

He rumbles a laugh and tapes down the piece of gauze. “You think I don't know what it looks like when you get home from a night of superhero work?”

“You coulda fucking said something,” she snaps, but he can see the smile beneath it, and bends down to kiss her.

“You want to be a secret superhero, I ain't stoppin' ya.” He pauses. “Next time, though, don't leave Danielle with Peter. Don't think we'll ever get that webbin' off her clothes.”

THE END