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seren_ccdOh, hey. Remember that Darcy/Clint story I was working on?
Title: You Might Need it Someday - Part One
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
seren_ccd
Fandom: Thor/The Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Darcy Lewis/Clint Barton, Jane/Thor
Rating: PG-13 for language and sexual situations
Word Count: 15,600
Disclaimer: Not mine! The title comes from Heart’s What About Love?.
A/N: I cannot thank my incredible betas enough:aj and fringedweller, you guys rock my socks!
Summary: It all started because Clint’s a whistler and Darcy always liked 80s music. Lunch ensued.
Darcy narrowed her eyes as she exited the elevator one morning.
They were back.
Someone had been plaguing her mornings for the last month by whistling, extremely well she had to add, every morning just as she arrived at her desk. He, or she, was doing their level best to work his, or her, way through the entire 80's hair band anthology. Thereby insuring that Darcy had whatever song they whistled as an earworm for the rest of the day.
Not to mention whistling, by definition, is just that. Whistling. No lyrics were heard. This meant that for the majority of the morning, Darcy had some stupid song stuck in her head and couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what it actually was. Which was beyond annoying and verged on psychological torture.
Many a lunch break was spent on Youtube and Google trying to Name that Tune before she screamed.
On top of that, she had no idea who they were. They were always down the hallway and disappearing into the stairwell by the time she got near enough to hear him or her.
But on this particular morning, she’d arrived early due to a conference call to the UK Coulson wanted her to listen in on. She walked briskly down the hall once she heard the whistling and realized it was actually near her desk.
She rounded the corner and shouted, “Ha! Finally!”
The guy who was exiting Coulson’s office stopped mid-blow and stared at her.
Whoa, Darcy thought looking him over. Dude has nice lips.
“Uh, hi there,” the whistler said before smiling at her.
Double whoa, Darcy thought again. Dude has nice everything. Holy Toned Pectorals, Batman.
“So you’re the whistler,” she said attempting to get her brain out of the gutter.
“I guess I am,” he said. “Sorry. Has it been annoying you?”
“Yep,” she said dropping her bag on her desk. “But not as much as it would have done if you were crap at it. And I’ve been wanting to bone up on my cheesy 80s rock anthems.”
“Thanks,” he said his stupidly attractive lips quirking into a smirk. “And they’re not all cheesy.”
“Yes, they are,” Darcy said putting a hand on her hip and looking at him. “But that’s ninety percent of the appeal, so...”
“Don’t tell me you’re into death metal,” he said his eyes narrowing.
“Please,” she said rolling her eyes. “I tried for about six months in high school, it didn’t take.”
“High school, hunh? And when was that?” he asked. “Last week?”
“At least it wasn’t during the Gerald Ford era,” she retorted.
The whistler’s eyes widened and then he started to laugh. “Son of a bitch, who are you?”
“Darcy Lewis,” she said. “Research Assistant to the man.”
He grinned. “So, you’re the one who sends us those easy-to-understand briefs?”
“That’s me,” she said impressed that people were actually reading the stuff she slaved over. “And you are?”
“Barton,” he said holding out his hand. “Clint.”
She shook his hand and yelled at her brain to stop slobbering all over the place at his warm, firm grip with the interesting calluses. Which reminded her… “Oh, you’re that guy! William Tell.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“You know,” Darcy said. “Bow, arrow, apple on the kid’s head, pissed off at the Austrians.” She stared at him. “Surely people have made the connection.”
“Oh, they have,” he said. “They hardly ever mention the Austrians, though.”
“That’s the fun part,” she said grinning.
He grinned back and she had to tell herself that jumping an Avenger was not a smart move.
“So you’re in charge of making sure us grunts know what the scientists are actually doing?” he asked leaning against her desk. “You’re Coulson’s version of Cliff’s Notes?”
“Oh, no,” she said leaning over her desk to grab her notepad. She flipped to a page she’d stuck half of a pink sticky note on and said, “I summarize, abridge, condense, outline, synopsize, and most recently, rehash information for you grunts.”
“Wow,” Clint said. “That was a lot of words that sounded really similar.”
“Yeah, they’re called synonyms, William,” she said. “And Coulson always has a new one for me every couple of days.”
“At least you’re not bored,” he said.
“How can I be?” she said, not actually kidding. “I’ve got a boss that is a walking thesaurus, I get the low down on all the wacky stuff you guys are up to, and I get at least one 80s song stuck in my head on a daily basis due to some guy whistling like a dork every morning.”
“You do not pull any punches, do you?” he asked sounding amused.
“Saves time,” she said with a shrug. “And what’s with the fascination with Def Leppard?”
“What?”
“You tend to whistle them the most,” she said. “Did you secretly want to become a one-armed drummer?”
“The idea has crossed my mind more than once,” he said. “Plus? They’re bitchin’.”
Darcy snorted. “They’re okay.”
“Okay? Okay?” he said leaning forward and oh, his eyes were really pretty. “They were pioneers of metal in their time.”
“Wow,” Darcy said ignoring the lusty fluttering in her stomach. “You have totally just confirmed my theory.”
“What theory?”
“That despite all your talent and badassery and intelligence, the Avengers are actually a bunch of dorks,” she said. She paused. “Except for Natasha. She’s cooler than all of you combined.”
“Yeah,” he said looking weird. “She is.”
Darcy wondered if there was a story there. Probably. It was like Days of our Lives most of the time around the Institute. She opened her mouth to ask, but Coulson appeared at the doorway to his office.
“Miss Lewis,” he said. “If you’re done maligning Agent Barton’s musical tastes, I do need those notes on the latest sit-rep.”
“No prob, boss,” she said. She grabbed a powder blue binder and waved it at him. “Ready when you are.”
Coulson nodded and went back into his office.
She felt Clint watching her as she got her stuff together and she wondered if he was staring at her ass. She wondered if he liked her ass. She was pretty sure she liked his.
“So,” she said raising her eyebrows.
“So,” he said still watching her.
“Uh, I gotta go,” she said gesturing towards the door.
He nodded. “Have a nice day.”
“O-kay,” she said not really sure what was happening anymore and not liking the feeling.
She headed towards Coulson’s office and had just crossed the threshold when he asked, “So who’s yours?”
Darcy turned around. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your embarrassing 80s band fixation?” he asked looking far more serious than the question called for.
A slow smile spread across her face. Then she just said, “Guess.”
Feeling braver and more in control than she had in a long time, she went into Coulson’s office.
“How about lovin’, touchin’, squeezin’?”
Darcy looked up in surprise at Clint standing next to her table in the cafeteria, his tray in hand. She blinked and cleverly said, “What?”
“Is it Journey?” he asked looking too cool for school in his tanktop and cargo pants. “Your favorite 80s band?”
“Oh,” she said. “That. I thought you were just being a perv. And no. It’s not Journey. I mean, it might have been at one point, but freakin’ Glee ruined it for me.”
He sat down. “Right. Not Journey. Hmmm.” He took a massive bite of his enormous sandwich and then paused to look at her. “Oh. Do you mind if I sit here?”
“I’m tempted to say ‘yes’ if only to watch you try to swallow and juggle your food over to another table,” she said feeling really amused by the guy. “But I’m not that cruel.”
“Yeah, but I bet you can dish it out if it’s called for,” he said after swallowing.
“How can you tell?” she asked. “I’m not actually wearing my ass-kicking red panties.”
He froze with his mouth completely full of sandwich and stared at her. Darcy struggled to keep a calm expression on her face when all she wanted to do was clap her hands over her mouth. God knew she had a smart mouth, but she’d just said ‘ass-kicking red panties’ in front of an almost total stranger. What the hell was up with her?
But, Clint resumed chewing, swallowed, cleared his throat and just said, “And I thought I was the only one who had a pair of ass-kicking panties.”
“Yeah, but I bet yours are like, leopard-print or something,” she said still trying not to grin.
He just winked at her and she told the butterflies in her stomach to calm the fuck down.
“Underwear aside,” he said. “Phil hired you. That usually means you’re well-versed in how to get people to get in line and stay there.”
Darcy felt really pleased by the statement, but simply asked, “You get to call him Phil?”
“Only when I’m not on-duty,” he said.
“Ah, then it’s ‘Sir’ or else?”
“Pretty much.”
Darcy tilted her head to the side and studied him while he demolished his sandwich. He stopped mid-bite and asked, “What?” with his mouth full.
She snickered. “Nothing. And chew with your mouth closed.”
He just made a noise and went back to eating like all the sandwiches in the world were going to disappear in the next thirty seconds.
Her phone beeped just as she was considering asking him if he had any embarrassing stories about Coulson. She sighed. “Ugh. Back to deciphering the latest from Stark.”
“Are you summarizing or condensing today?” he asked as she got her stuff together.
“Neither,” she said. “I’m actually blue penciling, which I didn’t know was a thing and had to look up. Did you know that it actually refers to when people used blue pencils to make corrections?”
“I did not know that,” he said smirking. “Not usually much call for proofreading in combat.”
She considered that. “Good point. Anyway, I suspect he used it because it’s also used in regards to censorship and Tony’s not exactly polite when he’s in full flow.”
“I can imagine,” Clint said. “Have fun.”
“Thanks.” She paused and wondered if she should do anything else, but sort of gave him a smile that may have been more like a grimace and turned to leave.
“Hey!”
She turned back around.
“Is it Michael Jackson?” he asked,
Darcy rolled her eyes. “Look, I think we can safely say that it’s none of the superstar 80s icons. Which means no Michael Jackson or Madonna or Prince.”
He looked thoughtful. “Good to know.”
“Are you seriously going to just keep asking me?” she asked. “’Cause that’s gonna get old real fast.”
A smile spread across his face. “Are you saying that I should be more inventive about this? Challenge accepted.”
She frowned. “How much am I going to regret this conversation?”
He just grinned and said, “Don’t you have a report to blue pencil?”
With narrowed eyes and a parting glare, Darcy left the cafeteria. Once in the elevator, she let herself grin. This was going to rock.
The next morning, a very groggy Darcy awoke to the very distinctive sound of Bon Jovi singing You Give Love a Bad Name. Oddly enough, it was coming from her phone. She blindly groped for it and pulled it close to her face, trying to read the screen without her glasses. Eventually, she realized it was actually her alarm going off, and it had somehow morphed from its usual loud chirp to New Jersey's resident bad boy.
Darcy turned it off and lay in bed staring up at the ceiling trying to remember when she’d re-programmed her alarm. She was positive that she hadn’t. Then her brain actually woke up.
“Son of a bitch!” she said out loud sitting up and staring at her phone. “How the crap did he do that?”
She jumped out of bed and hurried through her morning routine, forgoing washing and doing her hair. If she was fast enough, she might be able to catch the dork after his early morning de-brief with Coulson.
She wasn’t fast enough.
“Damn it,” she said loudly when she got to the office and there was no sign of Clint.
“Is there a problem, Miss Lewis?” Coulson called from his office.
“Not really,” she said dropping her bag on the floor and twisting her hair up on the top of her head, now wishing she’d washed it. “Unless you count someone molesting my phone.”
“Do I need to count someone molesting your phone?” he said after a few moments.
“Naw, I think I’ve got it,” Darcy said. “Thanks, boss.”
She sat down heavily in her chair and went to turn on her computer, but stopped when she saw the sticky note on her monitor which read:
Are we livin’ on a prayer this morning? –CB
“Well, fuck me,” she whispered. “Oh, this is on like Donkey Kong.”
Darcy was seated in the cafeteria during her mid-morning break jotting down some notes when Natasha joined her.
“I hear you managed to decipher Bruce’s latest research without having to ask him any questions,” she said by way of a greeting.
Normally the lack of a ‘hello’ would bother her, but after a month of coffee and tea, Darcy appreciated Natasha’s minimalistic approach to conversation.
Darcy grinned. “I think he took my last email begging him to please, please, for the love of God, stop using equations to explain something to heart.”
“Are you still up for this afternoon’s session?”
“Yep,” Darcy said. “I’ve been practicing and I’ve been doing those yoga moves every night.”
“Good,” Natasha nodded. “You’re showing improvement in your balance already.”
“I’m never going to be like you, though,” Darcy said.
“Of course you’re not,” Natasha said. “That’s not your purpose. But, it never hurts to be prepared. Still, you’ve done really well.”
That, Darcy thought, was as good an opening as any.
“So, you and Barton,” she said. “There actually was a ‘you and Barton’?”
Natasha blinked and then said, “Yes, there was. Briefly. Why do you ask?”
“Something he sort of said the other day,” Darcy said.
“We were lovers,” Natasha said bluntly. “And then I had to leave him for a mission.”
“I’m getting the impression that there’s more to the story,” Darcy said getting that heebie-jeebie feeling she always got when top secret stuff was being hinted about.
“There’s always more to the story,” Natasha confirmed. “But it’s partly classified and partly something I’m not proud of.”
“Got it,” Darcy said nodding. “We’ll speak of it no more.”
“Are you interested in him?” Natasha asked. “If so, I say go for it. He’s terribly…decent.”
She said ‘decent’ like it was a bewildering concept and Darcy felt a pang of something she didn’t quite have a name for, but it was the same feeling she got when Steve got that look on his face when he remembered his life Before.
“I don’t know,” Darcy said answering Natasha. “He’s cute and I’m having inappropriate thoughts about his arms. But I don’t think I’m his type.”
“Sure you are,” Natasha said almost smiling and looking Darcy in the eye. “You’re decent, too.”
Darcy smiled broadly. “Can I get that in writing to show to my mom when she starts complaining about my personal habits?”
Natasha smiled back and they sat sipping tea, well, coffee in Darcy’s case for a few moments.
“He put a song onto my cell phone as my alarm clock,” Darcy said eventually. “I have no idea how.”
“Do you want to know how?” Natasha asked.
“Not sure, yet,” Darcy admitted. “I do know that I want revenge. I don’t suppose you want to help me out with something of a retaliatory prank on him?”
Natasha arched an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”
The next day, Darcy arrived to find Clint sitting at her desk.
“Hi,” he said with a smile. “Do you, by any chance, have any idea how my phone came to play Pour Some Sugar on Me when Commander Fury calls me? I’d like to add that I discovered this new feature during a team meeting.”
“I think that’s a terribly appropriate ringtone for him,” Darcy said dropping her bag on the floor. “He’s really such a creampuff.”
A noise that resembled a choked off laugh may, or may not, have come from Agent Coulson’s office.
“Right,” Clint said. “And you know nothing about this?”
“I haven’t the foggiest, William,” Darcy said. “Oh, and FYI? It’s not Whitesnake or Hall & Oates. Thanks for getting Maneater stuck in my head.”
“It’s catchy, isn’t it?”
“Just like typhus,” Darcy said. “Although I do have to commend your diversity.”
“I’m an equal opportunity kinda guy when it comes to the tunes,” he said a corner of his mouth turning upwards.
“Wow. You’re such a dork,” she said starting to grin. “Get out of my chair and go shoot arrows into some bad guys, will ya?”
“Task-master,” he said getting up from her chair. He leaned in close and Darcy’s breath caught in her throat. He smirked. “I’m going to figure it out, you know.”
“Keep dreaming, William,” she said far more breathy than she wanted, but her point got across because his smirk deepened.
“Every night, Lewis,” he said. Then he gave her one of his infuriating(ly adorable) winks and sauntered out.
Darcy sat down in her chair and took a deep breath. She could still smell him. Nothing too distinctive, due to the whole sniper-stealth thing, but it was there.
“I think I have a problem,” she said out loud.
“You do,” Coulson said from right beside her desk.
Darcy jumped and banged her elbow. “Son of a biscuit!”
“Clearly,” Coulson said. “I need those reports of Dr. Foster’s condensed and ready for dispersal by 1300 hours.”
“Sir, yes sir,” she said cradling her aching elbow. “Can I have some coffee first?”
“Only if you make it yourself and bring me back some,” Coulson said before going back into his office.
“Sweet,” Darcy said as she resolved to immerse herself into the world of physics and not think about how nice Clint Barton smelled.
Darcy was on the phone with Jane when she walked into the cafeteria.
“I don’t know, Jane,” she said in answer to her science woes. “Have you tried reversing the polarity of the neutron flow?”
“Okay, the Doctor Who jokes were funny the first time you used them,” Jane said.
“Are you saying I need new material?”
“I’m saying that I’m stuck!” Jane said. "And I'm not sure where I'm going wrong."
"You know I do work in the same building as Tony Stark, I could forward your thoughts to him, if you wanted," Darcy said eyeing the veggie lasagna.
Jane sighed. "No, I'll figure it out. I just needed to complain."
"Hey, it's what I'm here for," Darcy said juggling her lunch tray. She turned around and spotted Clint who was watching her with a grin. His grin widened and he kicked the chair on the opposite side of the table out, making room for her to sit.
"He's doing it again," Darcy said to Jane.
"What? Who?"
"The guy with the bow and the arrows and the arms," Darcy said. "He saved me a seat at his lunch table."
"Does he carry your books to class, too?"
"Oh, hush. Go defy the laws of physics, science girl."
“Let me know if he asks you to go steady,” Jane said before hanging up.
“Wench,” Darcy said under her breath. Then she headed over to Clint’s table.
“How’s it going?” he asked still grinning.
“Fabulously. I got to watch Coulson tear a politician to shreds over the phone,” she said. “It was epic.”
“I bet,” he said. “Some days I think Phil’s the most dangerous out of all of us.”
“He is,” Darcy said digging into her lunch. “Oh, and by the way, I love Duran Duran as much as the next girl, and yes, their new vid with all the supermodels is trés kitsch. But, come on.” She gave him her best look of derision. “Rio? If you’re gonna bring the boys, you gotta go with Hungry Like the Wolf or Girls on Film. I mean, really.”
“What?” he asked looking wounded. “Rio’s a classic. It’s got a sax solo and everything.”
“Fair point. But it’s no Hungry like the Wolf.”
“So was I right this time?”
“Nope,” Darcy said happily. “Sorry, William. Try again.”
“Damn it.” He looked honestly bummed out and Darcy thought it was adorable.
“And hand the cookie over,” she said. “I know you got the last snickerdoodle and I know that you know that I’m unreasonable when it comes to those.”
“You have a problem, Lewis,” he said handing the cookie over.
“You don’t know the half of it, Barton.”
He didn’t carry her books afterwards, Darcy noted to herself. He had to go save the world from giant robots. Again.
Goddamn robots.
It occurred to her in the midst of looking up the definition of Fourier transforms, that she could actually ask him out. There was nothing wrong or against the rules about it.
Half the time, Darcy got the impression they were just work buds. People who made snappy observations and exchanged banter over lunch and coffee breaks, but amicably parted ways once the clock hit five. Or 3am, depending on the work day. But other times... well. Sometimes he just kind of looked at her, and she'd get all queasy inside. The good kind of queasy. The kind ofqueasy that gives you a thrill up your spine.
Despite all appearances, Darcy was not a frivolous or impulsive person. She processed on her feet really, really quickly, but she still processed. She actually used the task list in Outlook, and sets up the alert system to warn her about deadlines. She's organized. She really likes her job and doesn’t want to lose it due to some guy that may or may not like her.
Let’s face it, she thought as she glared at the page of equations that Jane sent to her, there’s no way the guy could be into me like that. Darcy never attracted the hot, actiony guys. She attracted the geeky, hipster guys who liked to talk polling statistics and read Wired. Which, whatever. She liked to read Wired and talk polling statistics. She just... liked this guy too.
We’re just friends, she thought firmly. Just. Friends. Crush on him all you want. But it’s not gonna be reciprocated.
She sighed and propped her chin in her palm and scrolled down the page trying to figure out what the heck Jane was talking about and ignore her inner angst about Clint Barton.
Her phone vibrated with a new message and she tapped to see what it was.
boys don’t, u kno. cry, that is. –cb
A text that made perfect sense considering she’d woken up to Boys Don’t Cry by the Cure that morning.
Oh, fudgesicles she thought. Why are you so goddamned cute?
“So, can I ask you something?” Clint asked over their Tuesday mac n’cheese. (Which was incredible, by the way. This wasn’t Velveeta orange non-food, it was like, gruyere and the mac was some kind of fancy noodle that Darcy was considering erecting a shrine for.)
“Hit me,” she said around a mouthful of cheesy heaven.
“You’re such a peach,” he said. “I was just wondering how you happen to have such an extensive knowledge of music that was clearly before your time.”
“What? A girl can’t have interests?” she said before taking another bite of mac n’cheese. She closed her eyes and moaned. “Sweet Jesus, this stuff should be illegal.”
“You having a Meg Ryan moment over there?”
“Not quite, but we’ll see how I’m doing after a few more mouthfuls.”
“I’ll keep count. So, my question?”
“Oh, right,” she said eating another bite and sighing happily. “My cousin, Tara. When I was a kid, she came to live with us while going to college. You know, to save money. She was cool and was into music and I was impressionable.”
“Interesting,” he said looking thoughtful.
“So, tell me,” Darcy said. “What exactly are you getting out of this?”
“Out of what?”
“The whole musical wake-up call thing,” she said. “What’s in it for you?”
“Personal satisfaction?” he said with a shrug. “I don’t know. It’s kind of nice to have something to think about that’s not, you know, life and death and urgent.” He paused. “Oh. Urgent. Good song. Is it--?”
“Nope, not Foreigner,” Darcy said. “But you’re not too far off on the whole they were a band in the 70s and 80s.”
His eyes narrowed. “Hunh. Thanks.” He looked at her. “I’m thinking I should get some sort of prize when I get it.”
Darcy felt a flush coming on. “Oh, yeah? What sort of prize, William?”
“I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “An admission of my brilliance and god-like powers of deduction would not go amiss.”
Darcy snorted. “Dream on. And no. It’s not Aerosmith, either.”
“Damn it.”
Coulson came to stand in his office doorway as Darcy sat down at her desk after lunch. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” he asked.
Darcy stared at him blankly for a moment before groaning. “Oh, man. Do I have to?” she asked, well aware that she sounded like a three year old. “I really don’t want to. I don’t like guns. I prefer my taser.”
“You signed a contract, Miss Lewis. All SHIELD employees must have at least twenty-five hours of practice using firearms, even if you never intend on using them,” he said. He gave her a Look. “I don’t want to see you back here until you’ve had at least thirty minutes in the range. And I will be checking the log books. Go.”
She scrunched up her face and dragged her feet all the way to the elevator.
Darcy paused just outside the firing range and bit her lip. She watched some of the SHIELD agents as they practiced.
“I’m going to suffocate on the testosterone,” she said under her breath.
“I’m thinking about getting nose plugs,” a mellow voice said next to her. “It’s pretty bad in there.”
Darcy turned and gave the woman now standing beside her a smirk. “Afraid I left mine in my Boys are Gross lunch box.”
The other woman, who was seriously gorgeous, smiled and asked, “Are you down here to practice?”
Darcy sighed. “Actually, I’m down here to learn. My boss says I have to learn how to fire a gun. For protection or something. Which is just dumb. I have a taser.”
“I see,” she said. She looked out at the range. “I could teach you if you’d like. Give you a female perspective on how to handle a weapon, as it were.”
“Well, that sounded dirty,” Darcy said. “I’m in. Thanks.”
“Not a problem,” she said smiling again. She held out her hand. “I’m Val.”
“Darcy,” Darcy said shaking Val’s hand. She’d expected it to be cool, but not etched with calluses. Darcy tilted her head. “Are you an Avenger?”
“Why?” Val asked. “Do I look like one?”
“You look like you know how to cause some serious trouble,” Darcy said. “And you’re graceful. Two prerequisites for being a superhero.”
Val laughed, a low throaty laugh that made Darcy grin. “Well, no. I’m not an Avenger.”
“No?” Darcy asked.
“No,” Val said. Then she looked directly up into the camera above them and said with a wink, “Not yet.”
Darcy’s grin widened. “Whoa. I have totally missed the first part of what is probably an epic story. But seriously, you’re awesome and I like you already. Will you please show me how to shoot at stuff?”
“It would be my pleasure, Darcy,” Val said.
“She flipped him,” Darcy said to Clint later during lunch. “The woman got the drop on Fury! How freakin’ bad ass is that?”
“Yeah,” he said waving his fork a bit. “But this is just her side of the story. What is it you kids are saying these days? No photos or it didn’t happen?”
Darcy snickered. “Something like that, gramps. And I’ll get the pics, don’t you worry. She said it happened on the roof. I can get the video feed.”
She stared off into the distance. “Contessa Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine,” Darcy said. “How fierce is that? Apparently her parents were killed because of their political leanings and she joined the cause to avenge them. SHIELD’s courting her because she’s deadly. She’s teaching me how to shoot stuff.”
“I could teach you how to shoot stuff,” he said frowning.
“Of course you could,” she said patting his arm. “But, I like learning from a woman.”
“Fair enough. So, Fury didn’t delete this alleged ass-kicking?” Clint asked.
“Oh, no. He did,” Darcy said. “But I did not hang out with the nerdy computer guys in high school for nothing.” She leaned forward and said in a dramatic voice, “Nothing is ever truly deleted.”
Clint smirked. “So every time I clear my browser history…?”
“Yep,” Darcy said with a nod. “There is a record of every porno site you have ever visited. Sorry, dude.”
“Damn,” he said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the sound of Def Leppard’s Hysteria interrupted him. He pulled out his phone and then glared at Darcy. “Banner gets Hysteria? Really?”
“What?” she said with a shrug. “It suits him. And it’s what you get for waking me up with Bryan Adams this morning. Not cool.”
“Hysteria happens to be a love song,” he said before answering.
“How can you tell?” she shot back.
He glared at her while he answered, “Hey, doc, what’s up?” Then he whispered to Darcy, “And Adams had good stuff, you know. It wasn’t all Robin Hood crap.”
“You mean that ‘Hurts so Good’ song?” she asked. “Yeah, that was okay.”
He actually let the phone slip from his hand to stare at her in shock (Darcy could hear Bruce saying, ‘Uh, Clint?’ over the phone). “That’s Mellencamp! How--? You better be jerking me around, Lewis.”
Darcy just stuck her tongue out at him.
She was woken up the next day with William, it was really nothing by the Smiths. Her hand slammed down on her phone just as Morrissey launched into a wail.
She flopped back onto her bed and muttered, “asshole,” but was still unable to stop the stupid smile from forming on her face.
Darcy was deep into deciphering the latest report from Jane for her weekly enumeration (not one of Coulson’s best, but still a pretty decent noun) of just what wacky things the scientist had been up to and what Asgardian Tech Can Do For You, when Coulson appeared next to her desk.
“I have a meeting with the Secretary of Defence and Agent Hill is away on a mission,” Coulson said. “Therefore, I need you to do the brief for the Gamma Team this afternoon.”
“What?” Darcy said. “Me?”
“They’re heading out for a follow-up reconnaissance of the original Asgard bridge site,” Coulson said. “I’ve emailed you the agenda. You’ve already got the report.”
“I do?” Darcy asked her eyes widening.
“Yes, you’re currently writing it,” he said glancing at her screen. “It’s a simple recon mission. They just need to have a brief background on the area and the tech.”
“Um, okay?” Darcy realized that she had essentially been phrasing her answers as questions, but she couldn’t seem to stop.
“Excellent,” Coulson said. “You’ll be fine. Good luck.”
“Thanks?” she said.
He paused. “Is there a problem?”
“Um, no?” Okay, this was getting ridiculous. She cleared her throat, sat up straight, and looked him in the eyes. “No, sir. Thank for this opportunity. There’s no problem.”
“I have a problem,” Darcy said as she sat down across from Clint at their usual table (which was something she was going to have to think about later – the fact that they had a usual table).
He looked up from his hamburger and said, “No, you don’t. I got the last two slices of pie.”
He slid a plate with a gorgeous slice of cherry pie with a mound of Cool Whip on top and Darcy smiled.
“You’re a ridiculously good person,” Darcy said. “Oh, and this reminds me. It’s not Warrant.”
“Really? Are you sure?” Clint asked with a grin.
“Very. Never play them again,” Darcy said pointing a finger at him. “I object to their blatant misogyny.”
“Fine, fine,” he said. “No more misogynistic bands.” He stared into space. “Which helps to narrow down the field.”
“And anyway, I still have a problem,” she said.
He stared at the pie. “What? It’s got Cool Whip on it.”
“Not the pie!” Darcy said. “Ugh. Coulson wants me to give the mission brief to the Gamma Team.”
“Cool,” he said. “They’re off to New Mexico next week, right? You know the place. You’ll be fine.”
“Thanks,” she said feeling stupidly pleased by this. “But I’ve never done one of these before. What if I screw it up?”
“You won’t,” he said far too casually.
Darcy waited. “What? That’s it? I won’t?”
“Nope. Why would you?” he asked.
“Because!” she said slumping in her chair and not feeling up to elaborating.
“Darcy,” he said. “You’ll be fine. You know the stuff, because you probably wrote half of it, and you’ve been to the area, so you know the layout. Plus you’re the least shy person I know, so yeah, you’ll be fine.”
“I guess,” she said poking at her salad with a fork. “But giving a talk is different from just talking. I get all red in the face when I have to talk in front of a bunch of people. I hated giving reports in class.”
He shrugged. “Just picture them all naked.”
“Oh, my God,” she said. “That’s the worst advice ever. Have you seen the Gamma Team? I’m trying decrease the amount of red my face gets when I have to speak in front of people. Not increase it.”
“What? They’re not bad-looking,” Clint said around a mouthful of French fries.
“I know! They’re the opposite,” Darcy said after eating a bite of pie forgoing her salad completely. “They’re hot! I don’t think picturing Agent Tate or Agent Flores in their underwear is going to help.”
“Agent Flores is a woman,” Clint said looking at Darcy speculatively.
“Yeah, a very hot woman,” Darcy said. “Trust me, the underwear thing isn’t going to help.”
He blinked and then grinned. “Christ, I really like you, Lewis.”
Oh, and there was that red-faced thing that she was talking about. But, thankfully he wasn’t looking at her; he was too busy decimating his pie.
“Has the underwear thing ever worked for you?” she asked taking a bite of her own pie.
“Not really,” he said. “Then again, I don’t do much talking. And usually if I’ve got to be briefed on anyone, well…”
He stopped eating and stared at his plate.
“Oh,” Darcy said feeling bad for bringing it up. “Less with the underwear and more with the, ah, bullseye?”
He snorted and nodded. “Yeah. Something like that.”
Darcy frowned at her pie. “Out of curiosity, if you’ve been trained as a sniper, what’s with the whistling? Aren’t we supposed to not hear you coming?”
Clint laughed and she instantly felt better for making him do so. “Yeah, well. I like to whistle and I don’t get the chance that often. So, when I see the opportunity, I take it.” He looked at her. “I thought you didn’t mind it?”
“I don’t,” she said. “It’s nice. Sort of, I don’t know, familiar now.”
She raised her head and felt something in her stomach shiver and clench at how he was looking at her.
“I like being familiar to you,” he said after they’d stared at each other for a while (another thing Darcy was going to have to think about later).
“Yeah?” she said breathlessly and God, when had she turned into a Harlequin cliché?
“Yeah,” he said his voice going all low and sort of gravelly; the Harlequin thing apparently was contagious.
Her phone pinged, startling her out of their staring match. And it was a good thing, too, because she was probably two seconds away from kissing his stupid face and licking the tiny bit of cherry pie from the corner of his mouth.
“Gotta go,” she said standing abruptly. “Duty calls and all that.”
“Have a good afternoon,” he said leaning back in his chair. “And you’ll be fine.”
“I will?” she asked.
“With the briefing,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “That. Yeah. I will. ‘Cause I’m awesome.”
“That you are,” he said smirking and looking way too hot.
“Yeah,” she said. “Uh, see you!”
She gave an awkward wave and then scurried, actually scurried out of the cafeteria, remembering at the last minute to get rid of her trash and food tray.
Once she was in the safety of an empty elevator, she let out a deep breath. “I still have a problem,” she said out loud. However, she wasn’t talking about the briefing.
“Now, remember to check your stance, relax your breathing and then fire whenever you’re ready.”
Darcy did as she was told, steadied her hands and her breath and then fired.
After five shots, she lowered the gun, dismantled it and set it on the shelf in front of her.
“Good,” Val said behind her. She pressed the button for the target to slide back. “Very good. Look at you, hitting all center mass and everything.”
“Just call me Annie Oakley,” Darcy said struggling to take her earphones off.
“Well, you’re not ready for the OK Corral, but you’ve really improved,” Val said giving Darcy a quick squeeze on her shoulder. “I now pronounce you sufficient with a firearm.”
“Sweet!” Darcy said bouncing a little. “What I’ve always wanted! Do I get cake?”
“But of course,” Val said. “After you tell me how your first ever briefing went.”
“Pretty good,” Darcy said. “I mean, I was freaking out all the way up to the moment that I was standing in front of them, but then I just started to tell them about the place and the tech and yeah. It went well. I think they appreciated me telling them where to get the good snack food more than the rest of it.”
“Never underestimate the power of a good bag of potato chips,” Val said. “Now, what’s going on with you and Mr. Biceps?”
“His uniform does sort of accentuate certain features, doesn’t it?” Darcy said tapping her chin thoughtfully.
“It does,” Val said pulling up a new target and gesturing for Darcy to put her earphones back on. “Now, talk.”
Darcy waited until Val had riddled the target with holes from two different types of reaches of her gun, before she said, “I think I have a problem.”
“Which is?” Val asked as she examined the target sheet.
“I really like him.”
“This is a problem?”
“I haven’t been in a relationship that lasted more than a week in, oh, let’s see – ever!” Darcy said giving Val a desperate look. “He dated Natasha for over a year!”
“So?” Val said frowning at one of the holes in the target and re-trying her grasp of her gun.
“So? So? So, it means that I am woefully out of my league,” Darcy said. “I can’t compare to her. Not that I was planning on even trying.”
Val finally looked over at her and Darcy realized that her voice may have gotten a bit shrill. “Darcy, do you like this man?”
“I think so,” Darcy said. “But I don’t really think I’m his type.”
“Dollface,” Val said her lips twitching in what was most likely amusement. “Men do not spend a great deal of their personal time trying to figure out which band from the 80s a girl likes, if they aren’t interested. They certainly don’t eat lunch with them every day.”
“I know,” Darcy said. “Ugh, I know! I’m just---“
“Nervous that you may like a man that is terribly different from what you’ve been with before and you’re experiencing feelings and urges you aren’t quite sure what to do with? Not to mention having to consider the multitude of reasons why it would a very bad idea to act on any possible feelings you have, despite the fact they might be returned?” Val asked, not quite looking at Darcy. “The fact is you’re apprehensive and that’s okay. But don’t let it stop you from getting what or who you want.”
Darcy’s eyebrows rose. “Thanks. Although, we’re not just talking about me and Mr. Biceps anymore, are we?”
Val hitting the button for another target answered her question.
Darcy spotted him almost immediately upon entering the cafeteria. She suppressed the desire to smile stupidly, and went to get her lunch.
Once she had a large bowl of chicken Caesar salad, she made her way over to him and said, “I threw my phone across the room this morning.”
Clint looked up and grinned. “Hello to you, too. Not a Van Halen fan, I take it?”
“Oh, Hot for Teacher’s all right,” she said sitting down. “But, it wasn’t the band so much as the fact that somehow it managed to sing Right Now just as it went off.” She speared a piece of chicken and pointed at him. “You’re lucky that it hit something soft when I threw it. Otherwise, you’d be buying me a new phone.”
Clint chuckled. “Duly noted. And no Van Halen. Check. And thanks for choosing Rock It as Stark’s ringtone. He’s really happy about that one.”
Darcy just grinned and went back to her salad.
They spent the rest of their lunch talking anything and everything and when Darcy’s phone beeped to signal the end of her break, she had to suppress a sigh of disappointment, which was annoying.
She got up and gathered her stuff. “Well, have fun punching things later. And try not to die.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said. “What are you doing this afternoon?”
“I’m writing a précis,” Darcy said with the proper inflection. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Sounds like a barrel of laughs,” he said.
“Don’t judge,” she said pointing a finger at him. “I happen to like my job.”
“I know,” he said with a smile. “It’s one of the things I love the most about you.”
Well, that made her blush like a little girl, but she ignored the heat in her cheeks and just mumbled, “Thanks.”
She turned away and then turned back. “By the way,” she said thoughtfully. “In regards to my wake up calls?”
“Yes?” he said drawing out the word and raising an eyebrow.
“Your selection is, well, kinda sexist,” she said. She gave him a meaningful look and he frowned and then she practically saw the lightbulb go off over his head.
“I’ll try to remedy that, Lewis, thanks,” he said.
Darcy merely lifted her chin in the air and sauntered out of the cafeteria.
The next morning she woke up to Blondie’s The Tide is High. Still not her favorite, but definitely a decent wake up.
Darcy drew a little daisy in the margin of her notebook while a guy from Finance went on and on about budget and line item reports. She snuck a quick look around the table and noted that every single Avenger, apart from Steve who was too polite, looked bored beyond all belief. Even Coulson was beginning to droop. Darcy held in her snicker and gave her daisy a smile with tiny fangs.
Just as the money guy was about to start talking about expense reports, everyone’s phone started to sound the alarm for a general wackiness occurrence. Coulson’s phone actually rang as did Darcy’s.
When she saw who was calling, she answered, “Jane? What’s going on?”
“Darcy! I did it!” Jane sounded elated and out of breath.
“What? Wait! As in ‘you did it’ did it?” Darcy asked sitting up straight ignoring that everyone in the room was looking at her. “You got him back?”
“Yes!”
“Holy shit, Jane!” Darcy yelled. “You rock!”
“I know! I know!” Jane shouted back. “I do!”
Darcy started to laugh when she heard Thor in the background yelling happily, “Jane! It has been too long since my lips laid claim to yours!”
Darcy’s eyes widened when she realized what she was hearing. “Oh, hello.”
“Miss Lewis,” Coulson prompted.
“Oh, uh,” she looked over at him, “Jane got the bridge working. Thor’s back.”
“So I gathered,” Coulson said. “What is Dr. Foster currently doing?”
“Um,” Darcy listened for a second. “I think she’s getting the crap kissed out of her. Breathe, Jane. Through your nose!”
Tony and Clint snickered and Steve grinned. Natasha and Val just looked amused. Coulson was suppressing an eyeroll, Darcy could tell.
“Darcy?” Jane said when she came back sounding really out of breath. “I’m kind of smart.”
“Heck yes you are,” Darcy said. She spotted Coulson looking very patient beside her. “Oh, Agent Coulson would like to have a word, Dr. Foster.”
“By all means, Miss Lewis,” Jane replied.
Darcy handed Coulson her phone.
“Congratulations, Dr. Foster,” Coulson said. “We at SHIELD had every faith in your abilities.”
“I can’t believe we get to meet a god,” Steve said Bruce.
“Don’t let the deity status fool you, he’s a sweet potato,” Darcy told them.
Clint snorted. “Yeah, a sweet potato that knocked out a dozen agents in less than fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah, but he was having a bad day,” Darcy said.
Clint said something else to the rest of the team, but Darcy had tuned back into Coulson’s conversation with Jane.
“We’re sending transport for you as we speak,” Coulson said. “We look forward to seeing you and Lord Thor, soon.”
He handed Darcy’s phone back to her.
“Jane?”
“So I finally get to see the infamous Institute and meet the Avengers?” Jane asked.
“You’re going to love it!” Darcy said. “So, I’d planned on letting you and your god bunk together. Will you be wanting a two-bedroom or a one-bedroom?”
“Darcy!”
“One-bedroom it is,” Darcy said with a grin.
“You’re horrible,” Jane said, but she was laughing.
“I don’t hear you asking for that two-bedroom,” Darcy sang back at her.
“Darcy. I just. I really did it,” Jane said actually sounding confused.
“Of course you did it, you crazy science chick,” Darcy said. “Did you honestly think you wouldn’t?”
Darcy hung up and looked at Coulson expectantly.
“We’ll need to set up Dr. Foster and Lord Thor –“ Coulson said.
“In their own living spaces and allocate lab space for Jane,” Darcy said. “I’m on it, sir.”
“Excellent,” Coulson said. He turned to Director Fury and Steve. “Captain, perhaps I should brief the team about Thor in more detail.”
Darcy turned away from the rest and dialed Linda in Property Services. “Linda, it’s Darcy. Remember those two people I said would be joining us at some point? That point has arrived. What have your magical property powers got for me?”
A few minutes later, a satisfied Darcy hung up and turned back to listen in on the discussion of Norse mythology. She grinned when Clint looked over at her; he just smirked and shook his head at her good mood. She didn’t care. Her friend was awesome at science and was coming for a visit.
Part Two
Title: You Might Need it Someday - Part One
Author:
seren_ccdFandom: Thor/The Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Darcy Lewis/Clint Barton, Jane/Thor
Rating: PG-13 for language and sexual situations
Word Count: 15,600
Disclaimer: Not mine! The title comes from Heart’s What About Love?.
A/N: I cannot thank my incredible betas enough:
aj and fringedweller, you guys rock my socks!Summary: It all started because Clint’s a whistler and Darcy always liked 80s music. Lunch ensued.
Darcy narrowed her eyes as she exited the elevator one morning.
They were back.
Someone had been plaguing her mornings for the last month by whistling, extremely well she had to add, every morning just as she arrived at her desk. He, or she, was doing their level best to work his, or her, way through the entire 80's hair band anthology. Thereby insuring that Darcy had whatever song they whistled as an earworm for the rest of the day.
Not to mention whistling, by definition, is just that. Whistling. No lyrics were heard. This meant that for the majority of the morning, Darcy had some stupid song stuck in her head and couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what it actually was. Which was beyond annoying and verged on psychological torture.
Many a lunch break was spent on Youtube and Google trying to Name that Tune before she screamed.
On top of that, she had no idea who they were. They were always down the hallway and disappearing into the stairwell by the time she got near enough to hear him or her.
But on this particular morning, she’d arrived early due to a conference call to the UK Coulson wanted her to listen in on. She walked briskly down the hall once she heard the whistling and realized it was actually near her desk.
She rounded the corner and shouted, “Ha! Finally!”
The guy who was exiting Coulson’s office stopped mid-blow and stared at her.
Whoa, Darcy thought looking him over. Dude has nice lips.
“Uh, hi there,” the whistler said before smiling at her.
Double whoa, Darcy thought again. Dude has nice everything. Holy Toned Pectorals, Batman.
“So you’re the whistler,” she said attempting to get her brain out of the gutter.
“I guess I am,” he said. “Sorry. Has it been annoying you?”
“Yep,” she said dropping her bag on her desk. “But not as much as it would have done if you were crap at it. And I’ve been wanting to bone up on my cheesy 80s rock anthems.”
“Thanks,” he said his stupidly attractive lips quirking into a smirk. “And they’re not all cheesy.”
“Yes, they are,” Darcy said putting a hand on her hip and looking at him. “But that’s ninety percent of the appeal, so...”
“Don’t tell me you’re into death metal,” he said his eyes narrowing.
“Please,” she said rolling her eyes. “I tried for about six months in high school, it didn’t take.”
“High school, hunh? And when was that?” he asked. “Last week?”
“At least it wasn’t during the Gerald Ford era,” she retorted.
The whistler’s eyes widened and then he started to laugh. “Son of a bitch, who are you?”
“Darcy Lewis,” she said. “Research Assistant to the man.”
He grinned. “So, you’re the one who sends us those easy-to-understand briefs?”
“That’s me,” she said impressed that people were actually reading the stuff she slaved over. “And you are?”
“Barton,” he said holding out his hand. “Clint.”
She shook his hand and yelled at her brain to stop slobbering all over the place at his warm, firm grip with the interesting calluses. Which reminded her… “Oh, you’re that guy! William Tell.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“You know,” Darcy said. “Bow, arrow, apple on the kid’s head, pissed off at the Austrians.” She stared at him. “Surely people have made the connection.”
“Oh, they have,” he said. “They hardly ever mention the Austrians, though.”
“That’s the fun part,” she said grinning.
He grinned back and she had to tell herself that jumping an Avenger was not a smart move.
“So you’re in charge of making sure us grunts know what the scientists are actually doing?” he asked leaning against her desk. “You’re Coulson’s version of Cliff’s Notes?”
“Oh, no,” she said leaning over her desk to grab her notepad. She flipped to a page she’d stuck half of a pink sticky note on and said, “I summarize, abridge, condense, outline, synopsize, and most recently, rehash information for you grunts.”
“Wow,” Clint said. “That was a lot of words that sounded really similar.”
“Yeah, they’re called synonyms, William,” she said. “And Coulson always has a new one for me every couple of days.”
“At least you’re not bored,” he said.
“How can I be?” she said, not actually kidding. “I’ve got a boss that is a walking thesaurus, I get the low down on all the wacky stuff you guys are up to, and I get at least one 80s song stuck in my head on a daily basis due to some guy whistling like a dork every morning.”
“You do not pull any punches, do you?” he asked sounding amused.
“Saves time,” she said with a shrug. “And what’s with the fascination with Def Leppard?”
“What?”
“You tend to whistle them the most,” she said. “Did you secretly want to become a one-armed drummer?”
“The idea has crossed my mind more than once,” he said. “Plus? They’re bitchin’.”
Darcy snorted. “They’re okay.”
“Okay? Okay?” he said leaning forward and oh, his eyes were really pretty. “They were pioneers of metal in their time.”
“Wow,” Darcy said ignoring the lusty fluttering in her stomach. “You have totally just confirmed my theory.”
“What theory?”
“That despite all your talent and badassery and intelligence, the Avengers are actually a bunch of dorks,” she said. She paused. “Except for Natasha. She’s cooler than all of you combined.”
“Yeah,” he said looking weird. “She is.”
Darcy wondered if there was a story there. Probably. It was like Days of our Lives most of the time around the Institute. She opened her mouth to ask, but Coulson appeared at the doorway to his office.
“Miss Lewis,” he said. “If you’re done maligning Agent Barton’s musical tastes, I do need those notes on the latest sit-rep.”
“No prob, boss,” she said. She grabbed a powder blue binder and waved it at him. “Ready when you are.”
Coulson nodded and went back into his office.
She felt Clint watching her as she got her stuff together and she wondered if he was staring at her ass. She wondered if he liked her ass. She was pretty sure she liked his.
“So,” she said raising her eyebrows.
“So,” he said still watching her.
“Uh, I gotta go,” she said gesturing towards the door.
He nodded. “Have a nice day.”
“O-kay,” she said not really sure what was happening anymore and not liking the feeling.
She headed towards Coulson’s office and had just crossed the threshold when he asked, “So who’s yours?”
Darcy turned around. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your embarrassing 80s band fixation?” he asked looking far more serious than the question called for.
A slow smile spread across her face. Then she just said, “Guess.”
Feeling braver and more in control than she had in a long time, she went into Coulson’s office.
“How about lovin’, touchin’, squeezin’?”
Darcy looked up in surprise at Clint standing next to her table in the cafeteria, his tray in hand. She blinked and cleverly said, “What?”
“Is it Journey?” he asked looking too cool for school in his tanktop and cargo pants. “Your favorite 80s band?”
“Oh,” she said. “That. I thought you were just being a perv. And no. It’s not Journey. I mean, it might have been at one point, but freakin’ Glee ruined it for me.”
He sat down. “Right. Not Journey. Hmmm.” He took a massive bite of his enormous sandwich and then paused to look at her. “Oh. Do you mind if I sit here?”
“I’m tempted to say ‘yes’ if only to watch you try to swallow and juggle your food over to another table,” she said feeling really amused by the guy. “But I’m not that cruel.”
“Yeah, but I bet you can dish it out if it’s called for,” he said after swallowing.
“How can you tell?” she asked. “I’m not actually wearing my ass-kicking red panties.”
He froze with his mouth completely full of sandwich and stared at her. Darcy struggled to keep a calm expression on her face when all she wanted to do was clap her hands over her mouth. God knew she had a smart mouth, but she’d just said ‘ass-kicking red panties’ in front of an almost total stranger. What the hell was up with her?
But, Clint resumed chewing, swallowed, cleared his throat and just said, “And I thought I was the only one who had a pair of ass-kicking panties.”
“Yeah, but I bet yours are like, leopard-print or something,” she said still trying not to grin.
He just winked at her and she told the butterflies in her stomach to calm the fuck down.
“Underwear aside,” he said. “Phil hired you. That usually means you’re well-versed in how to get people to get in line and stay there.”
Darcy felt really pleased by the statement, but simply asked, “You get to call him Phil?”
“Only when I’m not on-duty,” he said.
“Ah, then it’s ‘Sir’ or else?”
“Pretty much.”
Darcy tilted her head to the side and studied him while he demolished his sandwich. He stopped mid-bite and asked, “What?” with his mouth full.
She snickered. “Nothing. And chew with your mouth closed.”
He just made a noise and went back to eating like all the sandwiches in the world were going to disappear in the next thirty seconds.
Her phone beeped just as she was considering asking him if he had any embarrassing stories about Coulson. She sighed. “Ugh. Back to deciphering the latest from Stark.”
“Are you summarizing or condensing today?” he asked as she got her stuff together.
“Neither,” she said. “I’m actually blue penciling, which I didn’t know was a thing and had to look up. Did you know that it actually refers to when people used blue pencils to make corrections?”
“I did not know that,” he said smirking. “Not usually much call for proofreading in combat.”
She considered that. “Good point. Anyway, I suspect he used it because it’s also used in regards to censorship and Tony’s not exactly polite when he’s in full flow.”
“I can imagine,” Clint said. “Have fun.”
“Thanks.” She paused and wondered if she should do anything else, but sort of gave him a smile that may have been more like a grimace and turned to leave.
“Hey!”
She turned back around.
“Is it Michael Jackson?” he asked,
Darcy rolled her eyes. “Look, I think we can safely say that it’s none of the superstar 80s icons. Which means no Michael Jackson or Madonna or Prince.”
He looked thoughtful. “Good to know.”
“Are you seriously going to just keep asking me?” she asked. “’Cause that’s gonna get old real fast.”
A smile spread across his face. “Are you saying that I should be more inventive about this? Challenge accepted.”
She frowned. “How much am I going to regret this conversation?”
He just grinned and said, “Don’t you have a report to blue pencil?”
With narrowed eyes and a parting glare, Darcy left the cafeteria. Once in the elevator, she let herself grin. This was going to rock.
The next morning, a very groggy Darcy awoke to the very distinctive sound of Bon Jovi singing You Give Love a Bad Name. Oddly enough, it was coming from her phone. She blindly groped for it and pulled it close to her face, trying to read the screen without her glasses. Eventually, she realized it was actually her alarm going off, and it had somehow morphed from its usual loud chirp to New Jersey's resident bad boy.
Darcy turned it off and lay in bed staring up at the ceiling trying to remember when she’d re-programmed her alarm. She was positive that she hadn’t. Then her brain actually woke up.
“Son of a bitch!” she said out loud sitting up and staring at her phone. “How the crap did he do that?”
She jumped out of bed and hurried through her morning routine, forgoing washing and doing her hair. If she was fast enough, she might be able to catch the dork after his early morning de-brief with Coulson.
She wasn’t fast enough.
“Damn it,” she said loudly when she got to the office and there was no sign of Clint.
“Is there a problem, Miss Lewis?” Coulson called from his office.
“Not really,” she said dropping her bag on the floor and twisting her hair up on the top of her head, now wishing she’d washed it. “Unless you count someone molesting my phone.”
“Do I need to count someone molesting your phone?” he said after a few moments.
“Naw, I think I’ve got it,” Darcy said. “Thanks, boss.”
She sat down heavily in her chair and went to turn on her computer, but stopped when she saw the sticky note on her monitor which read:
Are we livin’ on a prayer this morning? –CB
“Well, fuck me,” she whispered. “Oh, this is on like Donkey Kong.”
Darcy was seated in the cafeteria during her mid-morning break jotting down some notes when Natasha joined her.
“I hear you managed to decipher Bruce’s latest research without having to ask him any questions,” she said by way of a greeting.
Normally the lack of a ‘hello’ would bother her, but after a month of coffee and tea, Darcy appreciated Natasha’s minimalistic approach to conversation.
Darcy grinned. “I think he took my last email begging him to please, please, for the love of God, stop using equations to explain something to heart.”
“Are you still up for this afternoon’s session?”
“Yep,” Darcy said. “I’ve been practicing and I’ve been doing those yoga moves every night.”
“Good,” Natasha nodded. “You’re showing improvement in your balance already.”
“I’m never going to be like you, though,” Darcy said.
“Of course you’re not,” Natasha said. “That’s not your purpose. But, it never hurts to be prepared. Still, you’ve done really well.”
That, Darcy thought, was as good an opening as any.
“So, you and Barton,” she said. “There actually was a ‘you and Barton’?”
Natasha blinked and then said, “Yes, there was. Briefly. Why do you ask?”
“Something he sort of said the other day,” Darcy said.
“We were lovers,” Natasha said bluntly. “And then I had to leave him for a mission.”
“I’m getting the impression that there’s more to the story,” Darcy said getting that heebie-jeebie feeling she always got when top secret stuff was being hinted about.
“There’s always more to the story,” Natasha confirmed. “But it’s partly classified and partly something I’m not proud of.”
“Got it,” Darcy said nodding. “We’ll speak of it no more.”
“Are you interested in him?” Natasha asked. “If so, I say go for it. He’s terribly…decent.”
She said ‘decent’ like it was a bewildering concept and Darcy felt a pang of something she didn’t quite have a name for, but it was the same feeling she got when Steve got that look on his face when he remembered his life Before.
“I don’t know,” Darcy said answering Natasha. “He’s cute and I’m having inappropriate thoughts about his arms. But I don’t think I’m his type.”
“Sure you are,” Natasha said almost smiling and looking Darcy in the eye. “You’re decent, too.”
Darcy smiled broadly. “Can I get that in writing to show to my mom when she starts complaining about my personal habits?”
Natasha smiled back and they sat sipping tea, well, coffee in Darcy’s case for a few moments.
“He put a song onto my cell phone as my alarm clock,” Darcy said eventually. “I have no idea how.”
“Do you want to know how?” Natasha asked.
“Not sure, yet,” Darcy admitted. “I do know that I want revenge. I don’t suppose you want to help me out with something of a retaliatory prank on him?”
Natasha arched an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”
The next day, Darcy arrived to find Clint sitting at her desk.
“Hi,” he said with a smile. “Do you, by any chance, have any idea how my phone came to play Pour Some Sugar on Me when Commander Fury calls me? I’d like to add that I discovered this new feature during a team meeting.”
“I think that’s a terribly appropriate ringtone for him,” Darcy said dropping her bag on the floor. “He’s really such a creampuff.”
A noise that resembled a choked off laugh may, or may not, have come from Agent Coulson’s office.
“Right,” Clint said. “And you know nothing about this?”
“I haven’t the foggiest, William,” Darcy said. “Oh, and FYI? It’s not Whitesnake or Hall & Oates. Thanks for getting Maneater stuck in my head.”
“It’s catchy, isn’t it?”
“Just like typhus,” Darcy said. “Although I do have to commend your diversity.”
“I’m an equal opportunity kinda guy when it comes to the tunes,” he said a corner of his mouth turning upwards.
“Wow. You’re such a dork,” she said starting to grin. “Get out of my chair and go shoot arrows into some bad guys, will ya?”
“Task-master,” he said getting up from her chair. He leaned in close and Darcy’s breath caught in her throat. He smirked. “I’m going to figure it out, you know.”
“Keep dreaming, William,” she said far more breathy than she wanted, but her point got across because his smirk deepened.
“Every night, Lewis,” he said. Then he gave her one of his infuriating(ly adorable) winks and sauntered out.
Darcy sat down in her chair and took a deep breath. She could still smell him. Nothing too distinctive, due to the whole sniper-stealth thing, but it was there.
“I think I have a problem,” she said out loud.
“You do,” Coulson said from right beside her desk.
Darcy jumped and banged her elbow. “Son of a biscuit!”
“Clearly,” Coulson said. “I need those reports of Dr. Foster’s condensed and ready for dispersal by 1300 hours.”
“Sir, yes sir,” she said cradling her aching elbow. “Can I have some coffee first?”
“Only if you make it yourself and bring me back some,” Coulson said before going back into his office.
“Sweet,” Darcy said as she resolved to immerse herself into the world of physics and not think about how nice Clint Barton smelled.
Darcy was on the phone with Jane when she walked into the cafeteria.
“I don’t know, Jane,” she said in answer to her science woes. “Have you tried reversing the polarity of the neutron flow?”
“Okay, the Doctor Who jokes were funny the first time you used them,” Jane said.
“Are you saying I need new material?”
“I’m saying that I’m stuck!” Jane said. "And I'm not sure where I'm going wrong."
"You know I do work in the same building as Tony Stark, I could forward your thoughts to him, if you wanted," Darcy said eyeing the veggie lasagna.
Jane sighed. "No, I'll figure it out. I just needed to complain."
"Hey, it's what I'm here for," Darcy said juggling her lunch tray. She turned around and spotted Clint who was watching her with a grin. His grin widened and he kicked the chair on the opposite side of the table out, making room for her to sit.
"He's doing it again," Darcy said to Jane.
"What? Who?"
"The guy with the bow and the arrows and the arms," Darcy said. "He saved me a seat at his lunch table."
"Does he carry your books to class, too?"
"Oh, hush. Go defy the laws of physics, science girl."
“Let me know if he asks you to go steady,” Jane said before hanging up.
“Wench,” Darcy said under her breath. Then she headed over to Clint’s table.
“How’s it going?” he asked still grinning.
“Fabulously. I got to watch Coulson tear a politician to shreds over the phone,” she said. “It was epic.”
“I bet,” he said. “Some days I think Phil’s the most dangerous out of all of us.”
“He is,” Darcy said digging into her lunch. “Oh, and by the way, I love Duran Duran as much as the next girl, and yes, their new vid with all the supermodels is trés kitsch. But, come on.” She gave him her best look of derision. “Rio? If you’re gonna bring the boys, you gotta go with Hungry Like the Wolf or Girls on Film. I mean, really.”
“What?” he asked looking wounded. “Rio’s a classic. It’s got a sax solo and everything.”
“Fair point. But it’s no Hungry like the Wolf.”
“So was I right this time?”
“Nope,” Darcy said happily. “Sorry, William. Try again.”
“Damn it.” He looked honestly bummed out and Darcy thought it was adorable.
“And hand the cookie over,” she said. “I know you got the last snickerdoodle and I know that you know that I’m unreasonable when it comes to those.”
“You have a problem, Lewis,” he said handing the cookie over.
“You don’t know the half of it, Barton.”
He didn’t carry her books afterwards, Darcy noted to herself. He had to go save the world from giant robots. Again.
Goddamn robots.
It occurred to her in the midst of looking up the definition of Fourier transforms, that she could actually ask him out. There was nothing wrong or against the rules about it.
Half the time, Darcy got the impression they were just work buds. People who made snappy observations and exchanged banter over lunch and coffee breaks, but amicably parted ways once the clock hit five. Or 3am, depending on the work day. But other times... well. Sometimes he just kind of looked at her, and she'd get all queasy inside. The good kind of queasy. The kind ofqueasy that gives you a thrill up your spine.
Despite all appearances, Darcy was not a frivolous or impulsive person. She processed on her feet really, really quickly, but she still processed. She actually used the task list in Outlook, and sets up the alert system to warn her about deadlines. She's organized. She really likes her job and doesn’t want to lose it due to some guy that may or may not like her.
Let’s face it, she thought as she glared at the page of equations that Jane sent to her, there’s no way the guy could be into me like that. Darcy never attracted the hot, actiony guys. She attracted the geeky, hipster guys who liked to talk polling statistics and read Wired. Which, whatever. She liked to read Wired and talk polling statistics. She just... liked this guy too.
We’re just friends, she thought firmly. Just. Friends. Crush on him all you want. But it’s not gonna be reciprocated.
She sighed and propped her chin in her palm and scrolled down the page trying to figure out what the heck Jane was talking about and ignore her inner angst about Clint Barton.
Her phone vibrated with a new message and she tapped to see what it was.
boys don’t, u kno. cry, that is. –cb
A text that made perfect sense considering she’d woken up to Boys Don’t Cry by the Cure that morning.
Oh, fudgesicles she thought. Why are you so goddamned cute?
“So, can I ask you something?” Clint asked over their Tuesday mac n’cheese. (Which was incredible, by the way. This wasn’t Velveeta orange non-food, it was like, gruyere and the mac was some kind of fancy noodle that Darcy was considering erecting a shrine for.)
“Hit me,” she said around a mouthful of cheesy heaven.
“You’re such a peach,” he said. “I was just wondering how you happen to have such an extensive knowledge of music that was clearly before your time.”
“What? A girl can’t have interests?” she said before taking another bite of mac n’cheese. She closed her eyes and moaned. “Sweet Jesus, this stuff should be illegal.”
“You having a Meg Ryan moment over there?”
“Not quite, but we’ll see how I’m doing after a few more mouthfuls.”
“I’ll keep count. So, my question?”
“Oh, right,” she said eating another bite and sighing happily. “My cousin, Tara. When I was a kid, she came to live with us while going to college. You know, to save money. She was cool and was into music and I was impressionable.”
“Interesting,” he said looking thoughtful.
“So, tell me,” Darcy said. “What exactly are you getting out of this?”
“Out of what?”
“The whole musical wake-up call thing,” she said. “What’s in it for you?”
“Personal satisfaction?” he said with a shrug. “I don’t know. It’s kind of nice to have something to think about that’s not, you know, life and death and urgent.” He paused. “Oh. Urgent. Good song. Is it--?”
“Nope, not Foreigner,” Darcy said. “But you’re not too far off on the whole they were a band in the 70s and 80s.”
His eyes narrowed. “Hunh. Thanks.” He looked at her. “I’m thinking I should get some sort of prize when I get it.”
Darcy felt a flush coming on. “Oh, yeah? What sort of prize, William?”
“I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “An admission of my brilliance and god-like powers of deduction would not go amiss.”
Darcy snorted. “Dream on. And no. It’s not Aerosmith, either.”
“Damn it.”
Coulson came to stand in his office doorway as Darcy sat down at her desk after lunch. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” he asked.
Darcy stared at him blankly for a moment before groaning. “Oh, man. Do I have to?” she asked, well aware that she sounded like a three year old. “I really don’t want to. I don’t like guns. I prefer my taser.”
“You signed a contract, Miss Lewis. All SHIELD employees must have at least twenty-five hours of practice using firearms, even if you never intend on using them,” he said. He gave her a Look. “I don’t want to see you back here until you’ve had at least thirty minutes in the range. And I will be checking the log books. Go.”
She scrunched up her face and dragged her feet all the way to the elevator.
Darcy paused just outside the firing range and bit her lip. She watched some of the SHIELD agents as they practiced.
“I’m going to suffocate on the testosterone,” she said under her breath.
“I’m thinking about getting nose plugs,” a mellow voice said next to her. “It’s pretty bad in there.”
Darcy turned and gave the woman now standing beside her a smirk. “Afraid I left mine in my Boys are Gross lunch box.”
The other woman, who was seriously gorgeous, smiled and asked, “Are you down here to practice?”
Darcy sighed. “Actually, I’m down here to learn. My boss says I have to learn how to fire a gun. For protection or something. Which is just dumb. I have a taser.”
“I see,” she said. She looked out at the range. “I could teach you if you’d like. Give you a female perspective on how to handle a weapon, as it were.”
“Well, that sounded dirty,” Darcy said. “I’m in. Thanks.”
“Not a problem,” she said smiling again. She held out her hand. “I’m Val.”
“Darcy,” Darcy said shaking Val’s hand. She’d expected it to be cool, but not etched with calluses. Darcy tilted her head. “Are you an Avenger?”
“Why?” Val asked. “Do I look like one?”
“You look like you know how to cause some serious trouble,” Darcy said. “And you’re graceful. Two prerequisites for being a superhero.”
Val laughed, a low throaty laugh that made Darcy grin. “Well, no. I’m not an Avenger.”
“No?” Darcy asked.
“No,” Val said. Then she looked directly up into the camera above them and said with a wink, “Not yet.”
Darcy’s grin widened. “Whoa. I have totally missed the first part of what is probably an epic story. But seriously, you’re awesome and I like you already. Will you please show me how to shoot at stuff?”
“It would be my pleasure, Darcy,” Val said.
“She flipped him,” Darcy said to Clint later during lunch. “The woman got the drop on Fury! How freakin’ bad ass is that?”
“Yeah,” he said waving his fork a bit. “But this is just her side of the story. What is it you kids are saying these days? No photos or it didn’t happen?”
Darcy snickered. “Something like that, gramps. And I’ll get the pics, don’t you worry. She said it happened on the roof. I can get the video feed.”
She stared off into the distance. “Contessa Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine,” Darcy said. “How fierce is that? Apparently her parents were killed because of their political leanings and she joined the cause to avenge them. SHIELD’s courting her because she’s deadly. She’s teaching me how to shoot stuff.”
“I could teach you how to shoot stuff,” he said frowning.
“Of course you could,” she said patting his arm. “But, I like learning from a woman.”
“Fair enough. So, Fury didn’t delete this alleged ass-kicking?” Clint asked.
“Oh, no. He did,” Darcy said. “But I did not hang out with the nerdy computer guys in high school for nothing.” She leaned forward and said in a dramatic voice, “Nothing is ever truly deleted.”
Clint smirked. “So every time I clear my browser history…?”
“Yep,” Darcy said with a nod. “There is a record of every porno site you have ever visited. Sorry, dude.”
“Damn,” he said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the sound of Def Leppard’s Hysteria interrupted him. He pulled out his phone and then glared at Darcy. “Banner gets Hysteria? Really?”
“What?” she said with a shrug. “It suits him. And it’s what you get for waking me up with Bryan Adams this morning. Not cool.”
“Hysteria happens to be a love song,” he said before answering.
“How can you tell?” she shot back.
He glared at her while he answered, “Hey, doc, what’s up?” Then he whispered to Darcy, “And Adams had good stuff, you know. It wasn’t all Robin Hood crap.”
“You mean that ‘Hurts so Good’ song?” she asked. “Yeah, that was okay.”
He actually let the phone slip from his hand to stare at her in shock (Darcy could hear Bruce saying, ‘Uh, Clint?’ over the phone). “That’s Mellencamp! How--? You better be jerking me around, Lewis.”
Darcy just stuck her tongue out at him.
She was woken up the next day with William, it was really nothing by the Smiths. Her hand slammed down on her phone just as Morrissey launched into a wail.
She flopped back onto her bed and muttered, “asshole,” but was still unable to stop the stupid smile from forming on her face.
Darcy was deep into deciphering the latest report from Jane for her weekly enumeration (not one of Coulson’s best, but still a pretty decent noun) of just what wacky things the scientist had been up to and what Asgardian Tech Can Do For You, when Coulson appeared next to her desk.
“I have a meeting with the Secretary of Defence and Agent Hill is away on a mission,” Coulson said. “Therefore, I need you to do the brief for the Gamma Team this afternoon.”
“What?” Darcy said. “Me?”
“They’re heading out for a follow-up reconnaissance of the original Asgard bridge site,” Coulson said. “I’ve emailed you the agenda. You’ve already got the report.”
“I do?” Darcy asked her eyes widening.
“Yes, you’re currently writing it,” he said glancing at her screen. “It’s a simple recon mission. They just need to have a brief background on the area and the tech.”
“Um, okay?” Darcy realized that she had essentially been phrasing her answers as questions, but she couldn’t seem to stop.
“Excellent,” Coulson said. “You’ll be fine. Good luck.”
“Thanks?” she said.
He paused. “Is there a problem?”
“Um, no?” Okay, this was getting ridiculous. She cleared her throat, sat up straight, and looked him in the eyes. “No, sir. Thank for this opportunity. There’s no problem.”
“I have a problem,” Darcy said as she sat down across from Clint at their usual table (which was something she was going to have to think about later – the fact that they had a usual table).
He looked up from his hamburger and said, “No, you don’t. I got the last two slices of pie.”
He slid a plate with a gorgeous slice of cherry pie with a mound of Cool Whip on top and Darcy smiled.
“You’re a ridiculously good person,” Darcy said. “Oh, and this reminds me. It’s not Warrant.”
“Really? Are you sure?” Clint asked with a grin.
“Very. Never play them again,” Darcy said pointing a finger at him. “I object to their blatant misogyny.”
“Fine, fine,” he said. “No more misogynistic bands.” He stared into space. “Which helps to narrow down the field.”
“And anyway, I still have a problem,” she said.
He stared at the pie. “What? It’s got Cool Whip on it.”
“Not the pie!” Darcy said. “Ugh. Coulson wants me to give the mission brief to the Gamma Team.”
“Cool,” he said. “They’re off to New Mexico next week, right? You know the place. You’ll be fine.”
“Thanks,” she said feeling stupidly pleased by this. “But I’ve never done one of these before. What if I screw it up?”
“You won’t,” he said far too casually.
Darcy waited. “What? That’s it? I won’t?”
“Nope. Why would you?” he asked.
“Because!” she said slumping in her chair and not feeling up to elaborating.
“Darcy,” he said. “You’ll be fine. You know the stuff, because you probably wrote half of it, and you’ve been to the area, so you know the layout. Plus you’re the least shy person I know, so yeah, you’ll be fine.”
“I guess,” she said poking at her salad with a fork. “But giving a talk is different from just talking. I get all red in the face when I have to talk in front of a bunch of people. I hated giving reports in class.”
He shrugged. “Just picture them all naked.”
“Oh, my God,” she said. “That’s the worst advice ever. Have you seen the Gamma Team? I’m trying decrease the amount of red my face gets when I have to speak in front of people. Not increase it.”
“What? They’re not bad-looking,” Clint said around a mouthful of French fries.
“I know! They’re the opposite,” Darcy said after eating a bite of pie forgoing her salad completely. “They’re hot! I don’t think picturing Agent Tate or Agent Flores in their underwear is going to help.”
“Agent Flores is a woman,” Clint said looking at Darcy speculatively.
“Yeah, a very hot woman,” Darcy said. “Trust me, the underwear thing isn’t going to help.”
He blinked and then grinned. “Christ, I really like you, Lewis.”
Oh, and there was that red-faced thing that she was talking about. But, thankfully he wasn’t looking at her; he was too busy decimating his pie.
“Has the underwear thing ever worked for you?” she asked taking a bite of her own pie.
“Not really,” he said. “Then again, I don’t do much talking. And usually if I’ve got to be briefed on anyone, well…”
He stopped eating and stared at his plate.
“Oh,” Darcy said feeling bad for bringing it up. “Less with the underwear and more with the, ah, bullseye?”
He snorted and nodded. “Yeah. Something like that.”
Darcy frowned at her pie. “Out of curiosity, if you’ve been trained as a sniper, what’s with the whistling? Aren’t we supposed to not hear you coming?”
Clint laughed and she instantly felt better for making him do so. “Yeah, well. I like to whistle and I don’t get the chance that often. So, when I see the opportunity, I take it.” He looked at her. “I thought you didn’t mind it?”
“I don’t,” she said. “It’s nice. Sort of, I don’t know, familiar now.”
She raised her head and felt something in her stomach shiver and clench at how he was looking at her.
“I like being familiar to you,” he said after they’d stared at each other for a while (another thing Darcy was going to have to think about later).
“Yeah?” she said breathlessly and God, when had she turned into a Harlequin cliché?
“Yeah,” he said his voice going all low and sort of gravelly; the Harlequin thing apparently was contagious.
Her phone pinged, startling her out of their staring match. And it was a good thing, too, because she was probably two seconds away from kissing his stupid face and licking the tiny bit of cherry pie from the corner of his mouth.
“Gotta go,” she said standing abruptly. “Duty calls and all that.”
“Have a good afternoon,” he said leaning back in his chair. “And you’ll be fine.”
“I will?” she asked.
“With the briefing,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “That. Yeah. I will. ‘Cause I’m awesome.”
“That you are,” he said smirking and looking way too hot.
“Yeah,” she said. “Uh, see you!”
She gave an awkward wave and then scurried, actually scurried out of the cafeteria, remembering at the last minute to get rid of her trash and food tray.
Once she was in the safety of an empty elevator, she let out a deep breath. “I still have a problem,” she said out loud. However, she wasn’t talking about the briefing.
“Now, remember to check your stance, relax your breathing and then fire whenever you’re ready.”
Darcy did as she was told, steadied her hands and her breath and then fired.
After five shots, she lowered the gun, dismantled it and set it on the shelf in front of her.
“Good,” Val said behind her. She pressed the button for the target to slide back. “Very good. Look at you, hitting all center mass and everything.”
“Just call me Annie Oakley,” Darcy said struggling to take her earphones off.
“Well, you’re not ready for the OK Corral, but you’ve really improved,” Val said giving Darcy a quick squeeze on her shoulder. “I now pronounce you sufficient with a firearm.”
“Sweet!” Darcy said bouncing a little. “What I’ve always wanted! Do I get cake?”
“But of course,” Val said. “After you tell me how your first ever briefing went.”
“Pretty good,” Darcy said. “I mean, I was freaking out all the way up to the moment that I was standing in front of them, but then I just started to tell them about the place and the tech and yeah. It went well. I think they appreciated me telling them where to get the good snack food more than the rest of it.”
“Never underestimate the power of a good bag of potato chips,” Val said. “Now, what’s going on with you and Mr. Biceps?”
“His uniform does sort of accentuate certain features, doesn’t it?” Darcy said tapping her chin thoughtfully.
“It does,” Val said pulling up a new target and gesturing for Darcy to put her earphones back on. “Now, talk.”
Darcy waited until Val had riddled the target with holes from two different types of reaches of her gun, before she said, “I think I have a problem.”
“Which is?” Val asked as she examined the target sheet.
“I really like him.”
“This is a problem?”
“I haven’t been in a relationship that lasted more than a week in, oh, let’s see – ever!” Darcy said giving Val a desperate look. “He dated Natasha for over a year!”
“So?” Val said frowning at one of the holes in the target and re-trying her grasp of her gun.
“So? So? So, it means that I am woefully out of my league,” Darcy said. “I can’t compare to her. Not that I was planning on even trying.”
Val finally looked over at her and Darcy realized that her voice may have gotten a bit shrill. “Darcy, do you like this man?”
“I think so,” Darcy said. “But I don’t really think I’m his type.”
“Dollface,” Val said her lips twitching in what was most likely amusement. “Men do not spend a great deal of their personal time trying to figure out which band from the 80s a girl likes, if they aren’t interested. They certainly don’t eat lunch with them every day.”
“I know,” Darcy said. “Ugh, I know! I’m just---“
“Nervous that you may like a man that is terribly different from what you’ve been with before and you’re experiencing feelings and urges you aren’t quite sure what to do with? Not to mention having to consider the multitude of reasons why it would a very bad idea to act on any possible feelings you have, despite the fact they might be returned?” Val asked, not quite looking at Darcy. “The fact is you’re apprehensive and that’s okay. But don’t let it stop you from getting what or who you want.”
Darcy’s eyebrows rose. “Thanks. Although, we’re not just talking about me and Mr. Biceps anymore, are we?”
Val hitting the button for another target answered her question.
Darcy spotted him almost immediately upon entering the cafeteria. She suppressed the desire to smile stupidly, and went to get her lunch.
Once she had a large bowl of chicken Caesar salad, she made her way over to him and said, “I threw my phone across the room this morning.”
Clint looked up and grinned. “Hello to you, too. Not a Van Halen fan, I take it?”
“Oh, Hot for Teacher’s all right,” she said sitting down. “But, it wasn’t the band so much as the fact that somehow it managed to sing Right Now just as it went off.” She speared a piece of chicken and pointed at him. “You’re lucky that it hit something soft when I threw it. Otherwise, you’d be buying me a new phone.”
Clint chuckled. “Duly noted. And no Van Halen. Check. And thanks for choosing Rock It as Stark’s ringtone. He’s really happy about that one.”
Darcy just grinned and went back to her salad.
They spent the rest of their lunch talking anything and everything and when Darcy’s phone beeped to signal the end of her break, she had to suppress a sigh of disappointment, which was annoying.
She got up and gathered her stuff. “Well, have fun punching things later. And try not to die.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said. “What are you doing this afternoon?”
“I’m writing a précis,” Darcy said with the proper inflection. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Sounds like a barrel of laughs,” he said.
“Don’t judge,” she said pointing a finger at him. “I happen to like my job.”
“I know,” he said with a smile. “It’s one of the things I love the most about you.”
Well, that made her blush like a little girl, but she ignored the heat in her cheeks and just mumbled, “Thanks.”
She turned away and then turned back. “By the way,” she said thoughtfully. “In regards to my wake up calls?”
“Yes?” he said drawing out the word and raising an eyebrow.
“Your selection is, well, kinda sexist,” she said. She gave him a meaningful look and he frowned and then she practically saw the lightbulb go off over his head.
“I’ll try to remedy that, Lewis, thanks,” he said.
Darcy merely lifted her chin in the air and sauntered out of the cafeteria.
The next morning she woke up to Blondie’s The Tide is High. Still not her favorite, but definitely a decent wake up.
Darcy drew a little daisy in the margin of her notebook while a guy from Finance went on and on about budget and line item reports. She snuck a quick look around the table and noted that every single Avenger, apart from Steve who was too polite, looked bored beyond all belief. Even Coulson was beginning to droop. Darcy held in her snicker and gave her daisy a smile with tiny fangs.
Just as the money guy was about to start talking about expense reports, everyone’s phone started to sound the alarm for a general wackiness occurrence. Coulson’s phone actually rang as did Darcy’s.
When she saw who was calling, she answered, “Jane? What’s going on?”
“Darcy! I did it!” Jane sounded elated and out of breath.
“What? Wait! As in ‘you did it’ did it?” Darcy asked sitting up straight ignoring that everyone in the room was looking at her. “You got him back?”
“Yes!”
“Holy shit, Jane!” Darcy yelled. “You rock!”
“I know! I know!” Jane shouted back. “I do!”
Darcy started to laugh when she heard Thor in the background yelling happily, “Jane! It has been too long since my lips laid claim to yours!”
Darcy’s eyes widened when she realized what she was hearing. “Oh, hello.”
“Miss Lewis,” Coulson prompted.
“Oh, uh,” she looked over at him, “Jane got the bridge working. Thor’s back.”
“So I gathered,” Coulson said. “What is Dr. Foster currently doing?”
“Um,” Darcy listened for a second. “I think she’s getting the crap kissed out of her. Breathe, Jane. Through your nose!”
Tony and Clint snickered and Steve grinned. Natasha and Val just looked amused. Coulson was suppressing an eyeroll, Darcy could tell.
“Darcy?” Jane said when she came back sounding really out of breath. “I’m kind of smart.”
“Heck yes you are,” Darcy said. She spotted Coulson looking very patient beside her. “Oh, Agent Coulson would like to have a word, Dr. Foster.”
“By all means, Miss Lewis,” Jane replied.
Darcy handed Coulson her phone.
“Congratulations, Dr. Foster,” Coulson said. “We at SHIELD had every faith in your abilities.”
“I can’t believe we get to meet a god,” Steve said Bruce.
“Don’t let the deity status fool you, he’s a sweet potato,” Darcy told them.
Clint snorted. “Yeah, a sweet potato that knocked out a dozen agents in less than fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah, but he was having a bad day,” Darcy said.
Clint said something else to the rest of the team, but Darcy had tuned back into Coulson’s conversation with Jane.
“We’re sending transport for you as we speak,” Coulson said. “We look forward to seeing you and Lord Thor, soon.”
He handed Darcy’s phone back to her.
“Jane?”
“So I finally get to see the infamous Institute and meet the Avengers?” Jane asked.
“You’re going to love it!” Darcy said. “So, I’d planned on letting you and your god bunk together. Will you be wanting a two-bedroom or a one-bedroom?”
“Darcy!”
“One-bedroom it is,” Darcy said with a grin.
“You’re horrible,” Jane said, but she was laughing.
“I don’t hear you asking for that two-bedroom,” Darcy sang back at her.
“Darcy. I just. I really did it,” Jane said actually sounding confused.
“Of course you did it, you crazy science chick,” Darcy said. “Did you honestly think you wouldn’t?”
Darcy hung up and looked at Coulson expectantly.
“We’ll need to set up Dr. Foster and Lord Thor –“ Coulson said.
“In their own living spaces and allocate lab space for Jane,” Darcy said. “I’m on it, sir.”
“Excellent,” Coulson said. He turned to Director Fury and Steve. “Captain, perhaps I should brief the team about Thor in more detail.”
Darcy turned away from the rest and dialed Linda in Property Services. “Linda, it’s Darcy. Remember those two people I said would be joining us at some point? That point has arrived. What have your magical property powers got for me?”
A few minutes later, a satisfied Darcy hung up and turned back to listen in on the discussion of Norse mythology. She grinned when Clint looked over at her; he just smirked and shook his head at her good mood. She didn’t care. Her friend was awesome at science and was coming for a visit.
Part Two
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-03-05 10:57 pm (UTC):D
no subject
Date: 2012-03-06 01:43 am (UTC)...ahahahahaahahahahahah! *scampers off to the second half*
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Date: 2012-03-06 03:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-06 04:14 am (UTC)Doctor Who jokes, divine-sounding mac'n'cheese, hilarious inner monologues! Eee!
And I've realized that Clint gets, like, no time in Thor and my memory of Darcy is hazy, but I completely and utterly believe in your universe. To the point where I will be very sad if/when the movie doesn't live up to it.
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Date: 2012-03-26 04:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-26 12:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-07 07:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-08 04:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-26 04:50 am (UTC)>Darcy turned it off and lay in bed staring up at the ceiling trying to remember when she’d re-programmed her alarm. She was positive that she hadn’t. Then her brain actually woke up.
>“Son of a bitch!” she said out loud sitting up and staring at her phone. “How the crap did he do that?”
he called in a favor with Rumplestiltskin.
I like the "you're decent too".
I always thought "reversing the polarity of the neutron flow" was from Star Trek, though.
hitting *pause* at the "carrying the books" part. quite very enjoyable.