#aspiring-trashfire

I don’t even remember how old this prompt is, SORRY. 

So with this one, I figure Clint and Darcy met when she was about 10 and he was 17ish, and still a carnie. Now, without further ado….

It had been six months, ten days, and five hours since Darcy met Clint Barton for the second time in her life. In the moment, she’d been too surprised to find out that the carnie sharpshooter she’d followed around the summer she was 10 and far too unsupervised had gone government lackey and then superhero. She’d meant to say something, but then her mulish preteen self caught up and she once again felt like she didn’t owe the wiseass with the stupidly pretty face an explanation. Most especially when the dork just kept tilting his head and squinting at her instead of actually asking why she seemed familiar.

After a while it just became too much fun. Jane, however, figured out something was up within a few days of them moving into the tower. She was quick like that and no above asking questions. 

“How do you know that hawk guy?”

“Agent Barton?” Darcy clarified all innocence.

Jane waved her hand dismissively. “I’m avoiding all mentions of his former line of work to limit my annoyance over New Mexico and my desire to stab all involved. So hawk guy he shall be. But, I know you know something about him. You’ve got your shit-stirring smile on whenever he’s around and we haven’t been here long enough for you to get your mischief network established.”

Not bothering to hide it, Darcy leaned forward, said shit-stirring smile in place. “I knew him one summer when I was a kid and am waiting to see how long it takes him to remember.”

“Why not just tell him?”

“Because this way is more fun. Especially when he awkwardly lingers trying to place me. He may be just as much of a dork as I remember but the view has only improved with age.”

And he did linger, more and more. At first it was just him hanging around her conversations with others, tilting his good ear towards her to try and catch any details she’d let slip. But bit by bit he’d actually started talking to her himself, chatting about seemingly innocuous topics that were clearly unsubtle attempts to get her backstory while he lounged against her workspace in the lab or draped himself over the back of the couch she was sitting on. Jane rolled her eyes and muttered while she worked, but Darcy enjoyed every bit of it. Clint was just as funny and smart as she remembered, but while kid Darcy had just wanted a friend to hang out with when she was bored and stuck at her aunt’s for the summer, adult Darcy recognized how time had made him a bit more tempered. He was still an idiot and reckless as hell, sporting a fair share of bruises and butterfly bandages every time he was hanging around, but there was something more solid about him, a stronger core that made it so very obvious he was the honest goods and she’d be in trouble if he stuck around too much longer. But she wasn’t exactly shooing him or his amazing biceps any time soon.

But here she was, six months later, far too invested in a guy who was supposedly a top government agent but had yet to admit that he knew who she was. She was pretty sure he’d figured if out six weeks earlier, but he still hadn’t said anything. So, she’d had her mom ship out her old trinket box and had started wearing the gold arrowhead he’d put on a leather lanyard and given her. Admittedly, it was always tucked in her shirt, but it was still there, waiting for him to notice and mention.

“Are you trying to get him to check out your boobs?” Jane asked, once again, not about getting the answers to what was bothering her. “They’re amazing and all, but this seems like a rather roundabout way to either A) remind him who you are or B) get him to scope you out and do something more than keep finding excuses to talk to you.”

Darcy stopped fidgeting with her new jewelry to put it back under her shirt with ba shrug. “You already know I love things that are long and involved. Not to mention convoluted.”

“Just as long as you two finally figure out what long and involved things you like together and stop contaminating my lab with all this mooning and flirting.”

Darcy was half impressed Jane had actually said that with a straight face after what she’d caught the fair scientist up to with Thor on the lab bench the night before. She laughed and pointed at the piece of furniture in question while waggling her brows at Jane. “Pot calling kettle black much?”

Pleased with the blush she got, Darcy went back to her notes with a smile and began planning on how to speed things up a bit. She did love long and involved, but patience was becoming sorely overrated.

Two nights later, Clint walked into the communal kitchen right on schedule. The corn on the cob was piping hot, her playlist of hits from that summer 15 years earlier was on, the candy was in a bowl on the table, and she was ready to tease him into finally admitting he remembered her.

“Hey, Hawkeye. You have an amazing day today?”

He narrowed his eyes at the joke.

She’d thought it was hilarious when she was ten and had repeated it every time she saw him as a kid. 

But he still didn’t bite.

“Hey, Darce. No more than usual.”

She hummed and grabbed the plate she’d piled the corn on and set it on the counter next to him.

“Corn?” When he narrowed his eyes even more, she just smiled.

Ever the cliche Iowa boy, he couldn’t turn down fresh, delicious corn, though. So he grabbed an ear, dressed it up as he wanted, and tucked in. She chose innocuous topics while he ate, easing him back into a comfortable back and forth before she offered his other favorite carnival snack from back in the day. “I also have some saltwater taffy if you want.”

This time he set down the now finished corn ear and folded his arms, leaning back against the counter with a small frown. “What’re you doing?”

She leaned against the opposite counter with a grin.”What do you mean?”

“The corn, the taffy, the music, the necklace. All of it.”

She couldn’t help her pleased smile. “So you did notice.”

“Of course I noticed,” He said with a grunt before he sighed and sagged more fully against the counter. “I knew it had to be you, but it just didn’t make sense. You were Darcy and grew up in Virginia. I knew a Dee in the middle of nowhere Ohio.”

“My family calls me Dee and I spent that summer at my aunt’s while my mom was taking care of my grandma.”

He nodded as her information slid into place and then didn’t say anything else, just stared at her, mulishly silent.

But she was already in it, knowing where she wanted things to go, so she continued on. “If you’d already figured it out, why not say anything? Were you that interested in my ranking of Star Trek captains as drinking buddies?”

He huffed out a laugh, finally letting his sulking expression crack. “While yes, I agree that Kirk would be the worst because you’d always be the one taking care of him, that wasn’t it. I just. Dammit, you’re funny and and smart and I always wanted to hear what you had to say, see you smile, just be around you.”

She felt a small blush starting in her cheeks but staunchly ignored it. She was on a mission. “Okay, those are very nice things for you to say, but you still didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you just tell me you remembered me?”

He finally uncrossed his arms to gesture dramatically. “I didn’t want it to be creepy! You were just a kid and like a little sibling and what I’ve been thinking lately is not brotherly.”

“Yeah?” Her voice was soft as she pushed off the counter and walked towards him. “What have you been thinking?”

His hands dropped to his sides and his eyes tracked her movements. “That I want kiss that all along that stupid necklace I made you, following it under every single thing you’re wearing.”

He froze, obviously not having meant to say that out loud.

Darcy laughed low and soft, immediately setting out to ease his discomfort as she stepped into his space, placing both hands on his chest and biting her lip with a smile. “Is that just a thought or a promise?”

The first time Steve brought her coffee, Darcy had no idea what the hell was going on. He showed up right around the end of the traditional workday, when everyone but she and Jane had already gone home.

At the slight hiss of the opening door, Darcy glanced up—and stared in confusion. There stood Captain Rogers—Steve, he'd insisted the few times she'd seen him around the tower—dressed in casual clothing. Or at least, as casual as Steve got. “Tony’s lab is that way,” she reminded him kindly, gesturing vaguely with her highlighter. “Although based on his mood today, you might get blown up if you go try to talk to him.”

She looked back down at her paperwork, but there was no swooshing sound to accompany his exit. After a moment, he cleared his throat. Startled, she jerked her head up and blinked owlishly behind her glasses. She shook herself a little, but couldn't figure out why he was still standing there.

Rubbing the back of his neck with a free hand, Steve tried again. “I brought you coffee.” With a quick look at Jane, he clarified, “I brought you both coffee.” Sure enough, he was balancing a tray with three coffees in his spare hand.  

Darcy could practically feel Jane’s stare burning a hole into the back of her head. “Okay,” she said slowly, pushing away from her desk to stand. “Come on over, take a seat.” He did, but not before handing them the drinks he'd brought.

She took a suspicious sip, and—yep, somehow he'd figured out her usual order. Once he'd pulled up a chair next to her desk, she quirked an eyebrow at him over the rim of the cup. “So, what's the bribe for?”

His cheeks flushed a little—it shouldn't have been as attractive as it was, really—and he opened his mouth to deny it. After a split second, he shut it and shrugged, unrepentant. Leaning back in the chair, he gave her his most charming grin. Having never been on the receiving end before, Darcy was not prepared for the full effect of that smile. She felt a little dumbstruck, to be honest.

When she caught up again, he was speaking. “So now Natasha is trying to set me up on dates practically every time she sees me,” he finished, looking at her pleadingly.

“Ahh,” was all she said. “You need a refuge.”

Steve shrugged a little and did a see-saw motion with his hand. “Kind of,” he said. “I'm not interested in—the way she's going about this.” And really, Darcy could only imagine. The Black Widow was terrifying when she wanted something. “And you're easy to talk to.” He shrugged again, like that was all there was to it. And maybe it was.

She looked at him for a second, then offered a shrug of her own. “Alright.” Picking up some paperwork, she put it down between them. “What do you know about astrophysics?”

A glimmer of mischief entered his eyes, and a corner of his mouth raised into a tiny smirk. “Not nearly enough,” he declared, smiling into her eyes.

-:-

From then on, he brought coffee to the lab several times a week. At first, he showed up in the morning or at the end of the day, always with treats for her and Jane. He’d sit and listen to them work for a while, moving heavy machinery or providing comedic relief when they needed it. Some days he had a particularly hunted look in his eyes, and Darcy knew that those were when Natasha had tried to set him up with someone.

They never said anything about it, and when Steve started to visit them at lunch, and then sometimes at dinner, and Jane and Darcy just quietly made space for him in their daily routine. He showed up once or twice in the middle of the night, when Darcy was at the end of her rope but couldn’t make Jane go to bed, just to keep her company. He brought ice cream or coffee, depending on how bad it was, and stayed with her until the sun came up.

Sometimes, Steve looked at her so softly, like he was memorizing the shape of her face or the curve of her smile, and Darcy would have to look away. She knew it was wishful thinking, knew that she was superimposing her own wishes and hopes over his expression.

But she didn’t send him away. And when he sat nearby, close enough to read her notes over her shoulder, she would helplessly inhale the smell of him and the warmth of his body. Her heart beat so erratically she felt like everyone could hear it. But still she didn’t send him away.

-:-

On a random Wednesday, Darcy discovered that Natasha’s Black Widow smile was even creepier in person. She was perched on the edge of Darcy’s desk, staring at her.

“Can I help you?” Darcy finally asked, wondering if the other woman was going to eat her alive for ruining her fun with Steve. But Natasha didn’t say anything in reply. She tilted her head and hummed noncommittally.

Eventually, Darcy rolled her eyes and turned back to her work. Every instinct was screaming for her not to turn her back on the predator sitting less than three feet away. But seriously, she had a deadline for this research and didn’t have time for cryptic stare-downs. Not even with the Black Widow.

After a couple of long, tense moments, Natasha breathed a huff of soft laughter and stood up.  “I get it now,” was all she said. And then she was gone.

Jane’s stare burned into the back of her head, and Darcy met her eyes in bewilderment. “What the hell was that?” her friend whispered furiously.

Darcy shrugged and turned back around. She didn’t have time today to unravel the mysteries of superheroes.

-:-

The next day, Steve showed up empty-handed. He looked more uncomfortable than she’d ever seen him—save for that first day—and Jane stood up abruptly. “I’ll go get coffee,” she declared, rushing out of the room. Darcy stared after her in shock, then turned to Steve.

“I’ve never seen her abandon her work so quickly,” she joked, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere. He didn’t look up, and she sighed. “Steve, what’s wrong?’

Abruptly, he looked up and smiled. He walked over to her desk and sat on the edge. It was almost the exact same spot that Natasha had claimed the day before, and she stifled a laugh. “Nat told me she came to see you,” he finally said.

“Yeah. She just stared at me. It was really weird.” Darcy rifled through the loose leaf papers spread across her desk, hunting for the data Jane had asked her to enter into the database.

“Did she say anything else?” Steve’s tone was cautious and quiet, and she looked up at him immediately. He wasn’t usually so careful around her, and the change had her worried.

She thought hard on his words, trying to understand—oh. A pang of disappointment lanced through her chest, but her tone was even when she replied, “Oh, Steve. She didn’t try to matchmake, if that’s what you’re worried about. Not that I’d do that to you, anyway,” she promised, patting his hand and moving away.

He snagged her hand between both of his, holding on to prevent her from stepping away. “What do you mean?” he asked in confusion. His stare was heavy on hers, his gaze warm and piercing.

She looked away. “You come here because it’s safe. I wouldn’t—wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, Steve. I’m not gonna hit on you.”

Releasing a noisy breath, he tilted her chin up with two fingers. Waiting until she made eye contact, he finally whispered, “I wish you would. I’ve been trying for weeks, but you never seemed to get the message.” A self-deprecating grin pulled at one corner of his mouth, and her eyes studied the curve of it. Memorizing it, wondering what it would feel like against her mouth.

She had no words to offer except disbelief, so she didn’t say anything at all. Instead, she reached up to pull his face down to hers. Their mouths met, and it was soft, tender, sincere. A careful exploration of the way they felt about each other, feelings made to be cherished and protected.

And then his hand was smoothing her hair behind her ear. A calloused fingertip brushed against the sensitive skin there, and her mouth opened on a gasp. He swallowed it, sliding his tongue in to stroke and tease along hers. They clutched at each other desperately, pressing as close as possible until Steve finally picked her up and deposited her on her desk. He pressed a flurry of kisses all over her face, along her jaw, down her neck.

Darcy’s hands came up to grip his shoulders, holding on for dear life as her head fell back. Steve licked and nibbled the smooth skin of her throat, and her hands came up to grip his hair. She moaned his name, eliciting a groan in response. He began to slide down her body, and her eyes fluttered closed. Only to pop open a second later.

“Jane,” Darcy gasped, making Steve huff a frustrated breath against her neck. “She’ll be back—with coffee. Any minute.”

He groaned, the vibrations of it sending waves of pleasure down her spine, and stepped away. Raking a shaky hand through his hair, he closed his eyes and said, “You’re right. Now isn’t the time for this.”

She moved to climb down from the desk. Steve’s eyes popped open at her movement, and he reached out to stroke a finger along her wrist. “Later? After you finish work? I want—” he swallowed quickly, still trying to catch his breath, “I want us to figure this out.”

Birdhouse in your Soul - They Might Be Giants

Free Fallin’ - Tom Petty *sobs*

9 to 5 - Dolly Parton

Wake Me Up Before You Go Go - Wham!

Wintershieldshock

Line Quotes “Claudia, Warehouse 13”

“She raised her eyebrow at this and walked on.”

They were making out on the couch in the common room. Not exactly something that bothered her, and she was more than able to just walk away, had she not been completely distracted when she entered and proceeded to squeak, that’s right, squeak, when she finally noticed them, drawing their attention to her.

She stared wide eyed for a moment, before straightening up, and put a neutral look on her face.  

“She raised her eyebrow at this and walked on.” and with that she turned on her heels and disappeared through the swinging kitchen door.

IS THERE KISSING ON YOUR DESKTOP?

Nope, no kissing. Just some serious about-to-kiss eye-fucking which @umicorms did for the limited edition hardcover of Hunger Pangs.

Which in many ways is so much better.

Stuffing faces in underwear?...what does this mean? Have I fundamentally misunderstood something about how to be a person?

Hiiii so how is your grad school? Mine is on paper at a good place, but it doesn't feel much different from the days when nothing worked.