Clara blinked back at the woman, who she now knew as Jemma Simmons, in shock. "Sorry, what?"

"I understand this may be confusing for you, so allow me to explain," she began, still holding a gentle smile. "You were struck by a small piece of shrapnel while fighting on Tower Bridge. Spider-Man was able to contact Happy Hogan in time for Fury to send a rescue team - in this case, us.'

"Is-" She cut herself off just before the name was spoken, her still slightly foggy and highly concerned mind nearly letting the greatest secret she's ever known to slip out. "Is Spider-Man okay?"

"He's doing well," Jemma nodded. "A few scratches here and there, nothing that hasn't already healed." Clara let out a small breath at the news, relieved to hear that had been the case. Believing Clara had asked the only question she was in a rush to know, Simmons continued, "we brought you aboard Zephyr One in order to give you access to the Healing Pod," she gestured to the strange tube Clara had woken up in. 

"Healing Pod?" Clara asked with a raised eyebrow, she had never seen or heard of technology like that. She knew S.H.I.E.L.D was working to develop new technology for field work, but rumour would have spread with something as major as that. 

"It's alien tech," Simmons told her in an overdramatic stage whisper, accompanying the words with a wink. 

"You used alien tech on me?" Clara gaped, looking from her to the device. "That's- You can't do that! Can you do that?" 

"Well, you likely would have died if we hadn't, so take that as you will," she said, her smile still showing her good faith. "There was just one issue with bringing you aboard," she frowned, as if she still didn't understand something herself. 

"There was?" Clara asked timidly.

"While you were recovering in the Pod, our tech kept failing," she informed Clara, who grimaced in response. "Spider-Man was quick to let us know of your inhuman abilities, but not before a hundred-foot drop mid-flight."

"Sorry," she looked down to her hands, completely ordinary now, but she knew she must have been reacting to the alien tech they were using. 

"No need to apologise," Simmons reassured her. "We moved you in there to prevent it happening again. The room's made from poly-tectic adaptive materials. Each module can be customized, so, you're safe in there, and we're safe from you. We'll let you out once we're sure your condition has stabilised. For now, however, I'm afraid you'll have to stay for a little while longer."

"Okay," Clara nodded. Realistically, she didn't have a choice in the matter, so arguing would be pointless. She'd just have to wait a while to see Peter and her parents. 

But not too long for the former, it would appear, Peter speeding into the room, still dressed head-to-toe in his suit. Simmons jumped with a start, spinning to face the intruder as the door slid open. "Clara?" Peter asked, looking between her and Jemma. 

Jemma nodded, a small smile playing on her lips, one she was clearly trying to hide. "I'll be back later to check on your progress." She left the room, leaving Peter and Clara separated by the panel of glass.

"Don't!" Clara warned him as he tugged the mask from over his head. Peter couldn't help but notice how strange it felt hiding his face from Clara.

"It's fine," Peter said, his expression full of concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but Peter, there are cameras," Clara told him, wondering why he was so open about showing his identity. 

"It's fine, Clara, they're S.H.I.E.L.D.," he waved her off.

Clara narrowed her eyes, "have you forgotten about that time Hydra infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. and almost succeeded in taking over the whole organisation?" She folded her arms, wincing as they sat against her stomach, and Peter immediately took a protective step towards her, even with the wall between them. "I'm fine." She repeated. "Where are we?"

Peter frowned. "Zephyr One."

"No, I mean where are we? As in where's Zephyr One," she explained.

"Oh," he realised. "Back in New York."

"We're in New York?" Clara asked, Peter nodding. "But that means I've been sleeping for, like..." She trailed off, her mind trying to count the hours the flight would have lasted.

"Fourteen hours." Peter answered, Clara's jaw dropping. "It was only a five-hour flight, but you slept longer."

"Have you been here the whole time?" Peter's sheepish smile returned, and Clara felt a blush spreading across her cheeks. She looked down to her hands, fiddling with her fingers as she spoke. "Thank you, Peter."

"What for?" He asked, his brow furrowed.

"What do you think?" Clara laughed lightly, looking back up again. "For everything; for saving me."

"You saved me too, remember? Now we're even." He grinned.

"Yeah, I guess so." 

A few seconds of silence stretched out. Clara watched him from one side of the window, Peter watching her from the other. Peter shuffled on the spot, glancing over to the door separating them. "Err, what are you doing?" Clara asked as he tapped his fingers on the device on his side of the door.

"You're not dangerous," he muttered. "You don't need to be kept in here." 

"Peter..." She said uncertainly. She wouldn't do anything on purpose, that was obvious, but they had put her in there for a reason. They knew what they were doing with this sort of thing, and she had almost brought down the plane, so maybe it would be best to stay inside. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Stop it, Clara," he scorned her as the door opened. "You're not dangerous, don't let them make you think that you are."

Clara turned to face him as he rounded the corner, the door sliding back into place as he did. Now with nothing between them, Peter pulled Clara into him. "I'm so sorry," he breathed.

"Sorry? What for?" Clara moved back, easing herself from Peter's grip.

He looked down at her stomach, "for that."

"That wasn't your fault," Clara shook her head, peering up at him earnestly. "It was just bad timing."

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line, his brows furrowed with worry and doubt. He didn't think it was entirely fair for him to not take any blame when he was the one to send the shards of metal flying from the drone. But, if he had learnt anything from the few days he had spent with Clara, it was that she was far too stubborn to argue with. 

"Do you think you'll be here when school starts again?" Peter asked, turning the topic to what was to come. 

"I don't know." Clara sighed, looking down at her hands clasped in front of her. "Probably not."

"Oh." Peter's stomach twisted as he thought about not seeing her again. Maybe he should just ask Clara if she'd want to see him again before she leaves – maybe he should take her to a fancy restaurant. No, he thought, she wouldn't like that, she'd want another adventure. 

"What is it?" Clara asked, seeing the trouble behind Peter's eyes.

"Do you think, maybe..." He trailed off, again wondering for a moment if this was the right thing to do. "Maybe you might want to hang out sometime?"

Clara looked up at the boy, an expression on her face that was somewhere between hopeful and sorrowful. She wanted to spend more time with Peter – she wanted to do so more than anything - but she had this nagging in the back of her mind, a voice asking her what the point would be in it all. Why bother getting closer to Peter when she was going to leave so soon?

Because you're already so close, another part of her mind told her, you wanted a friendship that lasted more than a few months – you can have that; this is your chance. "Yes." The word was simple, but there was a great weight behind it, one that Peter and Clara would happily carry together. "I'd like that."

"I mean, hang out, like a..." Peter cleared his throat, wishing he could put his mask back on to hide his red-flushed cheeks.

Clara's heart pounded in her chest, her stomach doing somersaults as she realised what he was trying to ask. "Like a date?" Clara finished for him.

"Err, yeah. I mean, if you want – or we can just hang out as friends." He shrunk back; his mind already deciding that she was going to say no.

Clara took one step to close the distance between her and Peter, and ever-so-delicately, she placed her lips against his, having to tip toe slightly to give herself an extra inch in height. She pulled back just as quickly as she had approached, watching for his reaction.

"Oh." He said, shock coating his face. "You kissed me."

"Again." Clara whispered. That had been a mistake – a big, big mistake, she scolded herself. Back on the bridge - that was just heat of the moment, all of the relief of succeeding making Peter act brashly and act out of character. "Sor-"

Before she had a chance to finish the word, she felt Peter's fingers lift her chin and he pressed his lips to hers, lingering for longer than she had. They moved gently, tentatively – testing the waters. As they brushed against Clara's, he saw a purple light through his closed eyes. He pulled away, looking down at the hands resting on his chest.

Clara took them away, stepping back and looking into Peter's soft brown eyes.

The warmth that she felt in that moment, her hands against Peter's chest, that was a comforting warmth - that was like home.