“Ms. Lewis?” Bucky called down the hall, his gun still poised on his shoulder. Clint covered his six with a handgun because he’d spent a lot of arrows getting in here, so the bow was on his back.
“Darcy Lewis?” Clint called, reaching out towards the wall to fumble for a light switch.
The light that flooded the hall looked as grimy and green as everything else in this basement, but didn’t reveal any life at all, save the mold in the corners and the algae in the bucket of water by their feet.
There were doors on either side of them. They checked the left one first, finding nothing but ironically: cleaning supplies.
When they opened the right, Bucky found himself face to face with the business end of a broken mop. The non-business end being held by a woman with long curly brown hair and wild blue eyes. Bucky recognized her from her SHIELD issue photo, even if she wasn’t quite as put together now as she had been on the day she’d been hired.
“I will stab you, I swear to Thor!” Darcy hissed, her gaze wide and scared as it darted back and forth between them.
Recognition started to bloom when she saw the SHIELD patches on their combat vests.
“Oh thank fuck… I don’t think I had it in me to stab anyone…” She sighed with relief as Bucky pulled out a flashlight and flashed it in both of her eyes to check for a concussion. To his disappointment, her left eye wasn’t dilating like it should. Probably because of the goose egg on the back of her head now that he was really looking.
“You’s guys look pretty damn _pretty_. You come here often?” she asked, stumbling on her feet as she took a step toward them. Her lack of coordination didn’t stop her from grinning though. She had a nice smile, even if it was a little touched by the concussion.
“Can we get medical down here?” Clint asked, holstering his gun as Bucky shook his head.
“Negative. Too much debris. She’s walking, so I think as long as we’re careful, we could carry her out of here.”
“I can walk, you guys totally don’t have to carry me,” she started, reaching out to stabilize herself on the wall. This is embarrassing enough without some gorgeous Adonis having to carry me out like I’m some fragile little flower or something…”
Bucky turned towards Clint, who snorted back a laugh. “You really must have fucking conked your noggin, huh?” he asked her, stepping forward into the room that was really little more than a hallway to another part of the complex it appeared.
“I didn’t _conk_ nothing,” she protested. “They were trying to silence me, and I cannot be silenced. By anyone.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and winced, reaching back to tenderly rub at the angry knot on her scalp.
Bucky set his jaw. These A.I.M jokers were really the scum of the earth if they took to bashing their hostages. Not that it made it any better, but that knot wasn’t even in any strategic ‘silencing’ position either. It was just to cause pain.
“Yeah? Well. You must have some knot if you think we’re Adonis-types,” Bucky said with what he hoped was confidence.
“And you ain’t no fragile anything, hon. I just don’t want any more damage done to that pretty little head of yours than they’ve already caused,” Clint finished, moving closer and scooping her into his arms.
She went without a fight, thankfully. And judging by the way she was clinging to Clint, she felt safe.
Bucky almost felt a twinge of jealousy, but then he remembered this was a rescue mission. Not speed dating.
The way out was relatively uneventful, even if Darcy did flirt shamelessly with both of them to the point where Bucky was running out of things to say short of making a date with her. And he couldn’t make a date with a concussed woman.
But they also didn’t want to upset her. She seemed genuinely nice. And there was no telling what she’d remember tomorrow.
So he and Clint left things open-ended as they deposited her with the medics.
“Awww, you gotta leave?” she pouted. “At least tell me your names so I know who I’m dreaming about tonight!”
Bucky blushed. “James Barnes.”
Clint shot him a look before answering. “Clint Barton.”
“Thank you,” she trilled. “We really need to get together sometime… all three of us, you know?”
Bucky didn’t know what to say to that, so he just smiled and waved as they backed out of the medic area.
Clint cuffed Bucky playfully as they made their way back into the building to search for more survivors. “You sweet on her, Buck?”
“No more than I’m sweet on you.”
Clint exhaled in a huff. “Damn, we got a problem then, don’t we? You should go back and ask her out.”
Bucky scoffed. “Why don’t you?”
“She’s got a concussion, man,” Clint replied with a smirk.
He rolled his eyes. “Just shut up and watch my rear.”
“Happily,” Clint replied, and dropped the matter for the time being.
----------------------------------------------
Clint and Bucky didn’t really have a reason to show up in her department, and that didn’t occur to either of them until they were already there on her floor, exiting the elevator and experiencing simultaneous panic at the thought of how they were going to explain their presence here on the public relations floor of SHIELD NYC Headquarters.
Bucky glanced over at Clint, who turned frantically towards the elevator doors, which closed in front of them, effectively stranding them for the next few minutes as another elevator made its way here to the nineteenth floor.
If they were lucky, they could wait here without being recognized.
“My heroes!”
No such luck.
Bucky turned and locked eyes with Darcy, her bright blues looking even more vibrant now that she wasn’t suffering from a head injury.
“Clint and James, right?” she said, pointing between the two of them. “Just the fellas I want to see.”
“You… you did?” Clint asked, looking around as if there were two other idiots named Clint and James standing behind them or something.
Bucky exhaled on a chuckle and smiled. “Good thing we’re here, then, huh?”
“Absolutely, I wanted to thank you for saving me!” Darcy reached out and grabbed both of their hands, dragging them down the hall and past quite a few offices. Apparently, the drama in PR wasn’t anything to write home about, because there were heads popping out of offices left and right as they passed. “My office is this way.”
“We have to go to your office for that?” Clint asked. Bucky glared in his direction, but it didn’t matter, because they were both heading for her office regardless.
They followed her into the room, her name stamped on the door, which she closed behind them before facing them once more. “Besides thanking you, I really have to apologize for the way I was acting.”
“Oh not at all!” Clint gushed.
“Yeah, it was a head injury, no worries, doll!” Bucky replied. “Everybody says some weird stuff when they’re head’s scrambled.”
“No, not that. I mean… I _was _probably a little more forward than I usually am…” Darcy said with a smirk. “I just meant, sorry we didn’t actually make plans…” She sat down at her desk and reached for her phone. “How’s next Friday for you guys?”
Bucky was speechless, so it was Clint who answered her, and boy was he glad he did. “Friday’s perfect. What do you have planned?”
She blushed. “I dunno, just your average run-of-the-mill date… I was kind of hoping you guys would know. I’ve never dated more than one person at a time before…”
“Us either…” Bucky said, shrugging a little. “We’ll play it by ear?”
Clint grinned. “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll try kissing your neck.”
Bucky’s stomach fell clean down to his toes, but Darcy laughed. “I think I’d like both, to be honest.” She winked and tapped on her screen. “What time should I meet y’all?”
“Seven,” he and Clint said in unison.
Darcy chuckled and swiped around on her screen again. “Seven, it is.”
This ‘tradition’ is an entirely new experience for Steve; he’s seen the way mass consumerism has grown since he’s been pulled out of the ice, and it’s hard to ignore the news stories about the shopping craze that’s been subsuming the Thanksgiving holiday, but he’s managed to avoid being in the thick of it.
Until now.
To be fair, it was Darcy’s idea that led them to be wandering around Target at 3 am Friday morning, stocking up on every glittery holiday decoration she could get her hands on because ‘we have to celebrate and celebrate properly, so after we sleep off the turkey it’s time to start decorating’ she’d said as they were getting ready for Steve to brave his first Thanksgiving with Darcy’s extended family (the things we do for love, he thinks with all fondness).
So he pushes the shopping cart while Darcy browses through strings of lights to put on the balcony, spindly branched wreaths to put on the door of the apartment even though they’re probably the only ones who would see it, and glitter speckled baubles to decorate their first tree in their new place together. Days later, Steve finds traces of that same glitter on the collar of his coat from where Darcy had pulled him into a quick kiss behind the stacks of pre-assembled Christmas trees, and he smiles at the memory.
ficsandteamakeahappyme replied to your post “aenariasbookshelf replied to your post “you all can keep your...”
This...I seriously went on a whole rant at lunch with my coworkers the other day while they were excitedly talking about all the gross orange products they were going to buy and I was lamenting the death of apple cider as a cultural touchstone
i mean, i don’t hate pumpkins generally. i will have at least 3 pumpkins decorating my house. but i’m one of the few people i know that dislikes pumpkin flavored anything.
fall, to me, means apple picking and apple cider. basically apples in general. granted the cider i picked up this morning was a gallon that was on sale at the market for $2.50, but i’ll take it! (there’s a farm near me that does apple picking that has The Best apple cider and apple cider donuts).
Ship: Bucky Barnes/Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
For: @ficsandteamakeahappyme
Prompt: Cherry Old Fashioned (Cherry Juice, Bourbon and Angostura Bitters)
Rating: T
Darcy stared down at the little blue plus sign on the stick, her hand shaking a little. She was pregnant. They’d barely even started trying. Hell, Steve was gone for a few days about two weeks ago. That was probably when it happened. Which meant it was biologically Bucky’s.
Not that it mattered. That baby was going to be so loved by both their dads. And their mom too.
Bucky knocked on the bathroom door. “You okay in there, doll?”
She had to tell him. Had to tell Steve. Tell them both. She couldn’t stop smiling.
She inhaled deeply and held it for a moment before letting it out. She stilled her shaking hand and opened the door, trying and failing to hide her grin.
“We gonna have a baby?” Bucky asked, bringing both fists into the air in a ‘V’.
Steve was not far behind, jogging up the hallway and skidding to a halt on their runner. “Yes, a baby?”
“Yes, a baby,” Darcy finally confirmed, laughing as she was pulled into simultaneous hugs from both of them. “It’ happened about two weeks ago, so…”
Steve reached out to hug Bucky’s neck. “You got her pregnant, way to go, man!”
Not exactly greeting card worthy, but she loved them all the same.
Ship: Fred Weasley/Hermione Granger
For: @ficsandteamakeahappyme
Prompt: The Grinch (Midori, Lemon Juice, Simple Syrup and a Maraschino Cherry)
Rating: G
"Come on down to the Burrow. You know Mum and Dad think of you as one of their own…" Fred offered, taking a seat on the edge of Hermione's desk. "Take the day off from this…" he gestured around her office with a sneer. One would think she worked at a sewage treatment plant and not at the Ministry of Magic.
"I wasn't invited," she argued, summoning a folder that just so happened to be wedged beneath Fred's rear end.
He leapt to his feet in surprise, eyes narrowing as he watched the folder slither into her open palm. "I'm inviting you, Goose."
"I'm not a goose," she said with a sniff.
"You are if you don't join me at the Burrow for Christmas Eve," he retorted. "Takes a right silly woman not to take Fred Weasley up on a date."
"So it's a date, is it?" she asked coyly. "Thought it was just a family thing."
His cheeks reddened slightly. "Well, I just…" He trailed off, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally replying. "Of course it's a date, Hermione. We've been dancing around this for months, haven't we?"
She wasn't about to admit how much she'd been waiting to hear those words from him. She nodded, acquiescing as she sent the folder flying into the 'out' stack. "You're correct. It's a date, and I'll be there with bells on."
Fred grinned and retook his seat on her desk. "Where will the bells be?"
Ship: Clint Barton/Darcy Lewis
For: @ficsandteamakeahappyme
Prompt: The North Pole (Whipped Cream, Egg White, Gin, Lemon juice, Maraschino Liqueur)
Rating: T
Mall-elves AU.
"You got any of that to share, Jingles?"
Darcy froze in mid-sip, the flask still poised right near her lips, the warm whiskey mere centimeters away. "Any of what?" she asked, knowing full well what Clint was asking for.
"C'mon…" he groused, moving up closer and leaning back against the brick wall, his elf-shoes ringing as he moved. "I need something to get me through the next four hours. Is it just me or do the kids get steadily more intense the closer to Christmas?"
"My name's actually Jangles," she corrected him, taking a swig from the flask before handing it over.
"Oh really? That a family name?" Clint joked. "Mine's Clint."
"I know," she said, laughing a little. "I've heard you get yelled at. Mine's Darcy, by the way. In real life. Not in the North Pole."
"Darcy, huh? I like that better. No offense to anyone actually named Jangles…" he said a little louder, just to cover his bases. "What are you up to after work, Darcy?"
"I'm going to de-elf and probably go home and fall asleep on the couch."
"Would you rather go out for pizza? My treat, to thank you for the whiskey. You can get anything you want, just know that we may have to scrounge for change in my car if you want something with supreme or extra in the title."
"I like pepperoni," she said slowly. "And I would love to go get pizza."
"Pepperoni? A woman after my own heart. And not my wallet. Which is good, considering you know what an elf makes."
For: @ficsandteamakeahappyme
Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Natasha Romanov
Rating: T
Prompt: Vodka-Mocha Cocktail (Chocolate, Sugar, Espresso, Heavy Cream, Vodka)
Darcy took a sip from her glass and hummed. "Mmm, that chocolate is yummy. Can't even taste the vodka."
Natasha felt her lips tugging upwards of their own accord as she leaned closer to kiss Darcy softly. Her lips lingered, her tongue swiping along her bottom lip, tasting the bitterness of the coffee and vodka. The sweetness of the chocolate. "Mmm," she hummed.
"You want one of your own? I can totally make you one," Darcy offered, her eyes wide and dark the longer she kept them on Natasha's.
