Chapter Text

Chapter 1:  Cowboy walks into a SHIELD Lab

The first time Darcy Lewis met Jack Daniels he did not make the best of impressions. Darcy had been sitting at her desk working on purchasing orders and requests for her various scientists when Erin tumbled into her office. After all these years of working with Jane, Doctor Foster was no longer her only responsibility. The years of Darcy and Jane camping out in the middle of the desert in an abandoned old car dealership were long gone. Now when they went somewhere it was usually paid for by SHIELD and their security was seen to by SHIELD. It was necessary. The price of being right. After Jane's theories had been proven and at long last she was receiving the respect she deserved from the scientific community, they couldn't continue as their small two or three person operation, running on a shoestring budget, floating from university to university, hoping people would fund Jane's notions. It was a financial decision to join SHIELD, and Jane had made her acceptance of SHIELD’s offer contingent on them taking Darcy as well. They looked after each other.

There have been years and years of hard work, but now Darcy was a lab manager at SHIELD. She took care of a lot of scientists instead of just one, and she was good at it. She was a scientist Wrangler of the 1st order. Unfortunately, that meant a lot of other people wrangling as well. As it did on the day she met Jack Daniels.

Darcy looked up at Erin’s panicked entrance. “What's up?”

Erin was a quiet person who often needed a sort of leavening influence that Darcy provided in their interpersonal relations with some of the more interesting members of the SHIELD organization. Years of interacting with mad scientists, eccentric billionaires, spies, soldiers, and superheroes Darcy had very little fear of anybody. The rest of her scientists knew it and used her quite frequently to solve issues that arose between them and other areas of SHIELD. Most of the time Darcy was happy to do it when she wasn't busy with her actual job, but she supposed keeping order in the labs and making sure none of her poor little scientists got their heads bitten off by irritated spies, soldiers, superheroes, etcetera was just another part of the job.

“I need your help,” Erin said.

 “OK, with what?”

“I've got a tricky customer coming in and I'd really really appreciate some backup.”

 It wasn't the first time nor would it be the last that Erin would make this kind of request. Darcy was beginning to suspect that a seminar in standing up for yourself and acting very tough would be necessary eventually, but she didn't have time to administer a lecture today. So she just shrugged and said “when do you need it?”

“Can you come in like 10 minutes? That’s when he’s scheduled to pick it up.”

“Yep, I'll be there. Just give me a minute to close up these purchasing requests.”

She saved and secured her work and trooped her way down to the weapons development department five minutes later. Weapons development was one of the most popular areas of SHIELD, well-traveled and well-liked by people who really liked pointy sharp things or things that went boom, which was another reason Darcy was running out of patience with Erin's timidity. Most people treated their weapon makers very well. It didn't pay to piss off the people that made things go boom, it just didn't.  But then again, the people that worked at a place like SHEILA were very particular about their weaponry. Darcy supposed it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that one of them had a habit of getting a little zesty.

Unfortunately, it appeared that in the time it had taken her to save her work and shut down her workstation, Erin’s hard customer had arrived. An agent, and it had to be an agent based on the clothes alone, was standing in the public-safe area of the weapons development department. A cowboy in New York City? Alright, Darcy had seen some really wacky shit over the years. You would think she would be used to all kinds of crazy getups, but a man wearing a clearly bespoke suit and a cowboy hat in the middle of SHIELD headquarters wasn't one of them. He was standing with his hands on his hips with his back turned to the windows, staring down her poor helpless hapless little scientist.

“So when will they be ready?” The man asked, clearly having just gotten the news that his deadly items weren’t available to him just yet. Erin was looking desperately around for some manner of reinforcement and that reinforcement unfortunately was Darcy.

Darcy scrutinized the agent before leaping into the fray. He was tall, broad shouldered, wearing a dark blue suit with grey accents in a strange cut she wasn't familiar with. It definitely wasn't your average government issue black suit, but then anyone who wore a cowboy hat to work probably wasn't your average government issue spy either. He spoke in a broad rolling accent that Darcy identified as belonging somewhere vaguely southern western-ish. Linguistics had never been her specialty. The man hadn't been yelling, but his voice was off. Too tight and clipped. Harsh.

 While Erin was generally timid, Darcy could understand if the man's size was a bit of a threat. He was a little under 6 feet, though how tall he was exactly was hard to tell with the aforementioned cowboy hat, which made Darcy look at his shoes. Was he wearing cowboy boots as well? No cowboy boots, but not loafers or sneakers or her own Doc Martins. Some kind of Chelsea boot. She supposed that didn't add a lot to his height, but his overall bearing was big. Agents came in many different shapes and forms, and this was clearly the ‘I am a large man, do not irritate me’ type. Just as well that Darcy knew how to deal with this. Some agents got off on the power trip of being an incredibly deadly person that could cause untold havoc to those around, perhaps this guy was just another one of them.

Well if he was planning on causing untold terror and havoc in her labs with her little scientists she would have to do something! She waved helpfully at Erin to let them know that they were not alone in dealing with the cowboy. She set her shoulders. Years of experience had told had taught her that you could not show any sort of fear to these types, if you did they would know that you could be intimidated again, and even if you could you didn't want them to know that. It was something Darcy had tried multiple times to impress upon her scientists. The ‘do not to give in to bull shit’ lessons didn't appear to have stopped because Erin was cringing even as Darcy prepared for battle.

“OK, what's the word, baby birds?” Darcy chirped happily as though she were walking into a picnic. The man's shoulders stiffened slightly but he didn't whirl around so he had heard her come in. “Darcy!” Erin exclaimed with clear relief. “I was just telling Agent Daniels that I wouldn't have his new weapons ready until the beginning of next week.”

Agent Daniels, she had never met an Agent Daniels. That wasn't unusual. SHIELD had plenty of outposts, plenty of agents that Darcy had never had to interact with, plenty of perfectly well behaved agents.

“Well, there you go, Erin,” said Darcy encouragingly. “Turn that frown upside down! It’s just a short delay.” The agent finally turned to look at her as she came closer to the embattled pair. He had a strong aquiline nose that dominated his face and a small neatly trimmed mustache and full lower lip beneath it. He had deep, darkly colored eyes and the hair she could see peeking out from beneath the cowboy hat was either a very dark brown or black. Color did funny things under the fluorescent lights of the SHIELD hallways and labs. The man currently wore a foreboding frown and Darcy searched his face for a fracture point. This was what she called it when she picked something to find nice or interesting about someone to help deal with the aforementioned very scary people slash killers that she sometimes worked with. She found it surprisingly between his eyebrows. He had a tiny little furrow there when he frowned, and instead of finding it alarming or scary that the man was frowning at her, Darcy envisioned walking up to the man and poking him right at the little furrow point. Obviously she wouldn't! She would never do that to someone who wasn't a close friend, Particularly not at SHEILD, where people tended to shoot or stab first and respond appropriately to casual touching later.

She smiled brightly and said, “That seems pretty straightforward. What else can the Development division help you with, Agent Daniels?” The furrow between his eyebrows only got deeper.

“That's not when they said it would be done,” he stated flatly. Now that she was facing him she could understand a bit better why the man scared Erin so much. It wasn't his slightly aggressive posture, his outlandish outfit, or the harshness of his tone, it was the flatness in his eyes, the lack of anything friendly or polite looking out at her. It was really not a great shock. Darcy had more than a few friends who had a similar look in their eyes, but usually they could turn off what Darcy usually called the sharky eyes. This man had either never learned the trick of it or he just didn't care. Either way, it wasn't any of Darcy’s business whether the man actually ever smiled fully, but looking at him reminded her of a few of her other friends, friends who also sometimes had a hard time turning off that dark stare and remembering they were also people, not just human weapons.

So she simply cocked her head to the side and nodded at the man's statement. “And that must be very frustrating,” she said smoothly. “But these things will happen, Agent Daniels, science doesn't always work on deadlines.” Agent Daniels crossed his arms and drew himself up even straighter. My goodness, his shoulders really are wide, Darcy tutted to herself. The agent stared her down. It was the usual run-of-the-mill ‘I could take you down in less than 5 seconds, you are nothing but a little tiny scientist’, but Darcy didn't pay it any mind. Darcy had had margaritas last night with none other than the Black Widow. She did not find this man particularly terrifying. Watching Natasha Romanov drink jalapeno margaritas was terrifying, a very strange, far from home cowboy was not. He stared her down for a few more seconds as though waiting for her reaction, something, anything, but Darcy didn't give an inch.

“And what would you have done if I had needed them today?” The man asked in a voice cold enough to give someone frostbite. Darcy looked over at Erin, who was standing to her left and slightly behind her now.

“We,” Erin said quietly, “would have done our best to offer you substitute weapons if you needed them for an assignment.”

“Do you require substitute weapons for an urgent assignment?” Darcy asked him. The man glared at her again. Really, she thought, this was just getting old.

“Yeah, Yeah!” She waved her hand.  “I'm sure you're very eager to get your hands on whatever Erin has promised you! “What is it, Erin? Shooty, stabby, or exploding?”

“Er, shooty,” Erin replied. The agent’s eyebrow rose sharply at Darcy's question, angry expression disrupted by sheer incredulity. Shooty, stabby, or exploding. Darcy watched the man's mouth move, miming the words she had just spoken, and his face resolved into a sort of consternated look as though he couldn't quite believe that someone was saying “shooty” in his presence.

“My new guns.” He stated flatly. “They are necessary.”

“Yes, I’m sure they are. So tell me, Erin, why aren’t the nice man's guns ready?”

“Safety testing,” Erin replied, finally on solid ground. “It's taking us longer than we thought it would to manufacture the custom rounds for your gun type.”

“Well, there you go,” Darcy said brightly. “Erin here is just trying to do you a kindness, Agent, by making sure your weapons don't blow up in the field outside of their intended explosive properties! Really,” Darcy told him with a grin, “You should be saying thank you for making sure I don't blow myself up!” The agent blinked hard as though completely and utterly shocked by her nerve. Darcy crossed her own arms and waited for the man to decide whether to start shouting, shooting, or otherwise being more of a pest. He did none of those things. His face instead reset to a carefully neutral expression. He wiped his hand over his eyes and sighed gustily. Darcy waited. Prayers for patience were not an uncommon reaction to dealing with Darcy Lewis.

“You're right.” His face now looking decidedly less like a thundercloud, he directed the conversation back at Erin. “I apologize. I forgot my manners. You know us agents, we hate to be without our shooty things.” Well done, decided Darcy. The man actually had a very nice voice when he wasn't angry. The sharp edges had smoothed, leaving a soft baritone. When he wasn't scowling at people, the agent had a nice face, and now that he had decided to play nice it was on full display. Small wrinkles decorated the corners of his eyes and his lower lip had softened. His mouth was wide and full under the mustache.  He wasn't smiling per se, but it wasn't glaring and frowning either, which Darcy had to count as a victory for her.

“Thank you for ensuring that I will not blow up,” he told Erin. Then he extended a hand to Darcy. “We haven't formally been introduced, I'm Agent Daniels.” It was probably safe, Darcy decided. She had shaken hands with literal demigods. The agent was probably not going to attempt to break her hand, today anyways. His hand was warm and much larger than hers. The labs were kept at an annoyingly cool temperature, even colder than most office buildings. It was a chill Darcy felt during the daytime even through the thick padding of her coziest sweaters, especially when she had been sitting down for a long time. But his hands were warm and thoroughly calloused. Even if Darcy had been stone blind, she would have been able to tell he was an agent just from the hand. She couldn't tell if the calluses that ran across his palms and decorated the tips of his fingers were from a specific weapon or just all the weapons, but she knew her friend Clint Barton AKA Hawkeye had hands like this. She clasped it firmly and did her best to ignore the way it practically swallowed up her much smaller, much softer hand.

“I'm Darcy Lewis,” she stated. “I'm a lab manager.” But not of the weapons lab, though she wasn’t about to tell him that after swanning in here to break up the conflict. They pumped hands a couple times politely, and Darcy was relieved that he did not attempt to crush her hand in some kind of ridiculous misplaced dominance game. Just because she could later revenge herself in all sorts of creative ways did not mean that she wanted to need to.

“When should I come back for my guns then, Doctor Libitz?” The agent asked as he dropped Darcy’s hand.

“I can have them for you by Tuesday!” He nodded, apparently satisfied.

“Much obliged.” His hand went up and tugged on the rim of his hat before he turned and left the lab. The automatic doors swooshed shut and the tension drained from the room.

Chapter Text

He was stomping. Jack knew he was stomping like an elephant, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. Today had been a shit day, even by his standards, and it seemed like all of his days lately had been shit days. Ever since he fumbled that damn vial. Jack truly hadn’t meant to break the vial and nearly cause the mission to fail, but he had still paid for it with a bullet in the head. Ginger and the Statesmen had revived him, but only after the mission was complete and the world was saved. Without him. Because they didn’t trust him. Because they really thought that after all his years of service, that he would really throw in with a bunch of psychotic drug-dealing hypocrites and allow one third of the world’s population (including a man who was both coworker and friend to him) to die. All because his wife had caught a bullet from some drugged-up gangbangers all those years ago. She would never have forgiven him if he really had taken that path. There had been some days when the former Agent Whiskey had wondered if he hadn’t meant to do it after all. It had been suggested so many times that the idea had taken root in his brain, more stubborn than burdock, and refused to go. Maybe he should have jumped ship if this was where he had ended up anyways.

After Jack’s revival they had questioned him for days, doing deep dives on every single mission he’d ever run, reexamining every pysch eval, the full shakedown. Some of it had happened when he was down. Before they decided to revive him fully, they had reviewed his history and deemed him too big an investment to let die, or at least enough of one to wake him up so that he could explain himself. But no matter what he said, they were never satisfied. He had lost everything. Oh, not all at once. It had happened in dribs and drabs; plum assignments always went to someone else, requests for backup or better equipment were delayed, friends and allies began to avoid him. Agent Whiskey may have officially passed scrutiny by the agency, but the people that made up the agency had made their own judgments. He saw the writing on the wall. One day back up wouldn’t come and he’d die in the field, or they’d kill him slowly by drowning him in paperwork or piddling milk run missions. Either way, he was finished. If Jack didn’t work, didn’t have a purpose, he would die. Again.

He made a request. It was the last one the Statesmen agency approved. Agent Whiskey was no more. Agent Daniels had been transferred to SHIELD. Sometimes there were agents that couldn’t make the Statesman grade by temperament or ability, so SHIELD was used to getting recruits from a covert source. Jack wondered when was the last time SHIELD had been handed a fully trained American-born operative with over a decade of field experience. As far as agencies went, SHEILD wasn’t the worst. At least Statesmen hadn’t given him to the fucking FBI. But here he wasn’t Agent Whiskey of Statesmen, just Agent Daniels of no verifiable employment history.

SHEILD had kept him traveling for a while. Testing him in fields foreign and domestic. Transfer orders to the New York office had come down, and he wasn’t sure if it was punishment or reward. New York had a big office, with lots of fancy departments and big name agents. Some people might think it a promotion. Jack didn’t. The first time he had walked past the New York Statesmen building he had felt a pain in his forehead and looked around for gunfire. He did his best to avoid that part of town. New York also carried a greater risk that he would run into people that had known him as Agent Whiskey. He didn’t even want to contemplate how that would go. New York also had aliens and superheroes.

His shit mood on this particular day had been caused by aliens. Not a hostile invasion, just alien tourists that had popped in, scared the beejezus out of the human tourists, caused a multi-car pileup, and a massive biohazard cleanup after emitting some green goon that was apparently their natural defense mechanism. The situation had eventually been straightened out, but it had taken several hours, multiple bullet clips (the things were semi-gelatinous and it turned out that bullets had zero effect), and destroyed his favorite boots (the ones with stilettos in the tips).

After returning to the office, putting on completely ordinary boots, and filling out hours of paperwork, Jack was in a bad mood. Wasn’t it enough that he had lost everything? Alien goo was just adding insult to injury. Statesmen had even taken his favorite weapons. Now he had to make do with replacements from the SHIELD R&D, which couldn’t possibly be as good. So yeah, he was stomping down the hallways of SHEILD NYC in boring shoes to go pick up weapons from the stuttering nerd in charge of projectile weaponry. God, it made him miss Ginger, and that just made him angrier.

Jack strode into the weapons development waiting area (because agents couldn’t possibly be trusted not to touch stuff left lying on tables and possibly blow up the building) and waited for the nervous Doctor Libitz. They came out of the blast proof doors, all shaky 5 feet 7 inches with sandy blond hair and darting green eyes. They were even more timid than when Jack had initially met with them to place the specialty order. He soon learned why.

“So when will they be ready?” Jack asked tersely. The least the scientist could have done was shoot him an email to inform him of the delay, not make him trudge down into the bowels of the building for nothing! The doors had hissed open as he was speaking. Jack felt eyes boring into him but didn’t turn from the unprofessional scientist. It seemed unlikely that a person walking freely through the R&D section of SHIELD would be here to shoot him, but maybe he’d get lucky and they’d try. Instead, the person came forward to stand beside Doctor Libitz, having moved in a wide arc around him. He began running combat stats on the new factor.

She was of average height and build, wearing a bulky purple cardigan that could conceal a variety of weapons. Plus, it looked very plush and cozy. Was that handknit? One of the Statesmen analysts, Pina Colada, was always knitting something during meetings. The woman had long, wavey dark hair and thick framed glasses on a pale face. Her eyes were blue-grey under dark, thick lashes. Her lipstick was a bright red slash decorating a wide smile. The smile caught him off guard, just for a second. What she said completely threw him off the horse and trampled him into the dirt.

“OK, what's the word, baby birds?” Baby…Birds? Was the woman crazy? Not playing with a full deck of cards? Nothing that followed particularly convinced him that she was entirely sane. When she asked what else the research division could do for him, it was clearly an invitation to scram. It only made him frown more. He didn’t want his weaponry request to get left behind in the mad flights of inspiration that scientists could be prone to. He didn’t want them to make a habit of sidelining his requests.

“That's not when they said it would be done,” Jack stated with as little inflection as possible. He wanted the department held accountable without making deadly enemies. He had more than enough of those. The woman made a show of giving him a sympathetic brushoff. At least her approach was gutsier that Doctor Libitz’s inability to look him in the face. Not the average, socially challenged lab rat then. He drew himself up out of the semi-casual posture and folded his arms, reassessing his new opponent. She was probably going for charming or cutesy with the way she spoke, but her eyes were too sharply intelligent. Neither one of them had said which department she was from, but she was too casually dressed to be from legal or HR. Another scientist then? One with guts enough to meet his gun barrel stare, which Tequila used to call “fucking unnerving” even before he had been brought back from the dead.

“And what would you have done if I had needed them today?” He challenged her. Libitz’s offer of replacement weapons was just irritating. If a standard issue Glock would have sufficed, why in the fuck would he be here? Then she actually challenged if he need the new weapons urgently! It cemented the idea that there was simply no way she was an agent. An agent wouldn’t have questioned the dire need to have a weapon he could trust in his hands as soon as possible. Then she says the most bizarre phrase “shooty, stabby, or exploding”. Jack barely kept himself from repeating it aloud. What in the hell kind of scientist was she? He had lost all control of this conversation. He tried to get them back on track. Except Libitz came back at him with the right jab of “safety testing”. He really couldn’t argue with that. Jack wasn’t about to try, but he didn’t get the chance before the woman finished him off with a roundhouse kick.

“You should be saying thank you for making sure I don't blow myself up!” It’s a knockout. He can’t fault them for making sure the weapons are safe enough for field use. It’d be useless to try to explain how itchy he’s felt since Statesmen took their weapons back, how naked he feels without his lasso. Scientists wouldn’t understand that. It took a force of effort to clear his face. To reign in the anger that always seemed to simmer so near the surface these days. The anger was easier than the numb ache of loss. Easier for him, but apparently not for his coworkers. Easier for them would be dealing with the Jack Daniels of two years ago. He wipeed a hand over his face to try to remind himself how it felt to go around his workplace with a friendly grin. He did his best to pull “Agent Whiskey” on like a mask and pretend that it didn’t feel like a carnival joke.

“I apologize. I forgot my manners. You know us agents, we hate to be without our shooty things.” It’s the best he can give them by way of explanation. Even as he says ‘shooty things’ he feels his own face softening. He’s rusty on charm, but he thought he could lean on decent manners  for a minute or two, which would be just long enough to extract himself from the madness of this conversation. “Thank you for ensuring that I will not blow up,” he said to Doctor Libitz as mildly as possible. He turned to the woman who took him to task with the air of a kindergarten teacher and proffered a hand. A fighter should always be recognized as such.

“We haven't formally been introduced, I'm Agent Daniels.” She took it, her hand disappearing into his own. Her hand was cold and soft. Probably why she was wearing a big purple cardigan to work. And definitely not an agent. He shook it gently.

“I'm Darcy Lewis. I'm a lab manager.” Right. He had heard the doctor call her Darcy before. It’s a nice name. Not very common these days. He returned her hand with some reluctance. If he were at Statesmen, Jack would have teased her about being aa human popsicle and chaffed her hands gently to warm her up. But I’m not there anymore. Agent Whiskey is dead .And I’ve got no warmth left in me anymore. How long had it been since he had casual contact with another person that wasn’t a handshake or a punch? Too long probably. Maybe he should go to a bar, try to get laid, feel something other than hollow and angry.

“When should I come back for my guns then, Doctor Libitz?”

“I can have them for you by Tuesday!”  Jack nodded. The doctor seemed relieved at the idea of being rid of him and Jack couldn’t blame them.

“Much obliged.” His hand automatically went up to tip his hat to the scientists as he left. Old habit. Even older than Agent Whiskey. He didn’t want to think about that. Jack beat a swift retreat as though he really had something important to get to. He didn’t.

Chapter Text

Darcy didn’t provide backup for Erin the next Tuesday when Agent Daniels was scheduled to pick up his new guns.

“Erin, just imagine that the man’s hat is pink or something! I know he’s kinda grouchy, but I’m confident that you can deal with him fine on your own.” Darcy had multiple meetings and several fires to put out that day (only one of which was literal). She did manage to drop by on her way out to make sure that Erin was in one piece though.

“So how did it go?”

“A bit better,” Erin sighed. “He’s still scary. But at least this time I didn’t think he was going to shoot ME. Weapons testing was so nerve-wracking!” Darcy laughed and patted the scientist’s shoulder.

“Well as long as nobody was seriously maimed, I’ll call that a good day!” Erin looked appalled. Darcy laughed again and wished them good night.

She didn’t see Agent Daniels until the next week. Darcy and Jane were having a debrief with a team of agents that had gotten stuck in a time pocket for several hours. The agents were all sitting at a long conference table in one of the sunny, sixth floor meeting rooms. Jane swept into the room like a tidal wave already firing off questions.

“What physical sensations accompanied the time shift? Did you notice any aura or sensations of dizziness? Were your bodily functions in any way impaired by- “

“Woah, Jane!” Darcy interrupted as she put her laptop down and began spreading out her things. “Buy them a cup of coffee before you ask about their functions, please.” A couple of the agents chuckled. A good room, Darcy decided. Some agents were so strait-laced that they wouldn’t so much as crack a smile. She glanced around as she set up the voice recording to augment Jane’s notes. She recognized Agents Malkovich and Villenova and gave them friendly smiles. There were a couple of fresh-faced baby agents that looked a little shocked by a diminutive blond woman in a large flannel shirt that interrogated like she was stationed on Gitmo. It would probably give them conniptions to know that the shirt she’s wearing is one she stole from her boyfriend the god of thunder. She was still smiling when her eyes danced over Agent Rumlow (who as team leader was seated at the end of the long table) and caught on a familiar black cowboy hat. So Agent Daniels had been one of the agents caught in the time pocket.

“Right! Yeah. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.” Jane shrugged as she waved a hand at the seated agents. She took out her own notebook and began feverishly scribbling. “I’m Doctor Foster. My area of research is Astrophysics so naturally I’m intrigued by your experience with the aberration is the fabric of space-time. Oh, and this is Darcy Lewis. She’s helping me with this debrief.”

Darcy shot everyone another smile and nodded at Agent Rumlow. She had known Brock Rumlow for a few years now. The swarthy, dark haired man was a senior agent, but not too big of a stick in the mud. Darcy wouldn’t have dated him if he was. Her eyes fell on Daniels again. In the bright afternoon sunshine falling through the windows, she could tell now that he had brown hair and eyes. His jacket today was a heavy charcoal grey wool that looks impossibly crisp for a man that got sucked into a time bubble for several hours and had been enduring at least two hours of post-mission debriefs. His gaze caught hers and she felt a shiver go down her back. Daniels’ stare was a heavy thing. The intensity was as unnerving as before, but at least this time he wasn’t frowning. No frown lines or little dimple between his brows. His face was neutral, and Darcy couldn’t even tell if he recognized her from the weapons lab.

Jack remembered. The woman from the weapons lab. She hadn’t been there when he went to pick up and test his new guns. Doctor Libitz had been practically vibrating from nerves. What’s a person from the weapons lab doing with an astrophysicist, he wondered idly. Jack was extremely bored. The time bubble hadn’t been exhausting, these debriefs were the exhausting bit. Maybe Darcy Lewis would be interesting. She was just as casually dressed as she had been the last time, wearing ripped up skinny jeans and stretchy black long-sleeved shirt. Lewis was a curvy woman as it turned out.

“Before we get started, does everyone have everything they need?” Darcy asked. Jack wondered what in the hell she meant. He blinked a few times. Did she think that they would also need to take notes or want to record the session?

Darcy only saw Agent Daniels’ reaction because she had still been looking at him when she asked it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a few of the other agents shaking their heads. “I mean, does anyone need coffee?” She asked gently. If Agent Daniels was too tired to understand a simple question like that then this debrief would be a huge waste of time. “Bathroom break? Water? Snack?” Of all the agents in the room, Brock was the only one who seemed to understand. He gave her a charismatic smirk.

“Got any cookies?”

“Go fish,” Darcy grinned. “But I’ve got you covered.” She reached into her bag, rustled through her supplies, and came up with a minty chocolate power bar. Instead of walking it over to him like a boring adult she threw it at him. Brock caught it easily, used to her antics.

“Thanks, Darce.” But her eyes had snagged on Daniels again. When she had thrown the protein bar in his general direction he had flinched. The movement had been tiny, but she was used to trying to read people like Natasha, who were masters at controlling physical reactions. So, is he a touchier sort or is it post-mission jitters? Darcy had seen her friends exhibit both behaviors and wondered which one caused his reaction. But if he’s still on high alert, why was he thrown by my question? Is he just not used- She was startled from her musings by one of the baby agents (she thought his name was Carmichael) asking if she had any more. Darcy smiled encouragingly and tossed him a bar too.

“Anyone else? Cuz when Jane gets going it’s a bit hard to stop in the middle.”

Jack was nonplussed. Lewis was distributing snacks like they were all at a picnic. It reminded him of how she had taken him to task over manners like a kindergarten teacher. And why was a lab manager handing out snacks at this meeting anyways? Lewis didn’t make any sense. “Water?” he asked quietly. Lewis bent down to a plastic bag on the floor and pulled out a bottle of water.

“Comin’ at ya, Agent Daniels.” She rolled down the table and he scooped it up. He took a long pull. Jack hadn’t realized just how thirsty he’d been. This was…nice. He hadn’t been offered snacks at any of his other SHIELD post-mission debriefs.

Agent Daniel’s voice had sounded hoarse, and he certainly drank like he was parched. Darcy watched the movement of his throat as he swallowed. She had realized that tossing him the water, as she would have if it were for Brock, might have disastrous consequences. Spies who were tired, generally high strung, or fresh off a mission could confuse a harmless action for a deadly threat. She had made that mistake with Clint once after a very long day. She had come up from behind and grabbed his arm to ask if he was okay. He had only gotten halfway through his swing before realizing it was her and pulling the punch, but the poor guy had been so apologetic and guilt-ridden afterwards! It was another lesson she had learned; don’t startle the spies. Darcy didn’t particularly want to risk getting stabbed or shot because of a bottle of water.

“If everyone is settled, let’s get started.” Jane relaunched her questioning. The baby agents were characteristically quiet, not sure yet what responses were appropriate or necessary. Malkovich and Brock were honest, direct, and concise. Villenova was more ponderous in her responses but giving greater detail. Daniels hardly spoke. Honestly Darcy had been expecting that he would speak more in line with Malkovich and Brock. She rechecked the mission roster (the other baby agent was Kelson), and those three were all listed as senior agents. Maybe he just hates giving reports?

It wasn’t until they were 20 minutes in that Daniels finally spoke up. Jane had been asking them how they had known they were in an altered pocket of not only time, but space as well. Malkovich had already mentioned seeing a slight haze in the air that they later realized marked the boundary back into normal space. Kelson had actually tried to stick his arm through and met with a weird physical sensation of trying to push through thick mud. Thick mud that caused your arm to tingle and begin to burn the longer you were in it. Darcy actually gave a quiet snort. Touching the weird haze was exactly the sort of thing she might have done, but keeping your arm there until it actually started to hurt? Bad idea, newbie.

“Is that all that distinguished the two spaces?” The other agents began nodding. Daniels finally spoke.

“No. The air was different.”

“Different how?” Jane demanded. Daniels hesitated, his mouth forming a thin line.

“Was it a difference in the air quality or air flow?” Darcy asked, hoping to jog him.

“Flow,” Daniels said with a nod at her. “There wasn’t a breeze per se, but the air stopped moving.” Jane frowned, not understanding, but Daniels continued on. “The air quality didn’t change until we had been in there a while.” Darcy hissed in through her teeth. Daniels met her eyes and gave another nod. The situation had been a lot more dangerous than anybody else in the room had realized.

“I still don’t understand-“

“They almost ran out of air, Jane,” Darcy interrupted softly. She didn’t look away from the steady brown eyes even as Brock swore and one of the junior agents gave a squeak of alarm. His eyes were too steady, Darcy thought as she listened to the others react. They hadn’t known, but he had. He had known that their time in the bubble was finite but showed zero fear.

“You noticed the changes in the air; the bubble was completely impermeable so there was no air moving in or out. That means that depending on the size of the bubble and the number of people in it-“

“And the manner of their breathing,” Daniels cut across her.

“Right. Scared people breathe faster, hyperventilate, using up more oxygen.” Darcy felt a little short of breath herself as Daniels keeps looking at her, waiting for her. “You knew that. You didn’t tell them on purpose,” her voice barely rising above a whisper.

“WHAT,” Brock roared. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything, Daniels!?” He finally looked away from Darcy.

“That righ’ there is why.” His accent is the only source of inflection. “Lewis just said it. Upset people breathe faster. What good would it have done to tell you when we already knew we were in a heap o’ trouble and needed to get the hell out o’ there?”

“How much time did you have?” demanded Darcy before Brock could start yelling again. “Could you calculate it?”

“Nine or ten hours,” Daniels answered easily. He had already run the calculations. Of course he had. “Less if people started to panic.” They had been in the time bubble for seven hours before the other team had found the alien artifact that had been causing the issue and broke it. The other agents around the table began cursing again at the realization of their close shave. He isn’t used to trusting or depending on other people, Darcy mused. He didn’t think that the other agents could have kept their cool. He’s either used to working alone or he doesn’t think much of his team members. He’s new to the New York office. Is he new to us or new to SHIELD entirely? Where are you from, Agent Daniels?

“Of course! We should have realized that if the force field keeping them isolated could reject any physical matter, then air would naturally not have been able to pass through!” Jane said this happily, another piece to add to the puzzle. For the rest of the meeting Darcy waited for more bombshells from Agent Daniels, but he returned to being a silent presence.

Darcy couldn’t stop glancing at him every time they would finish a round of question and observations. She couldn’t stop noticing him. The way the late afternoon sunshine gilded his hands, turning the skin bronze. The way his suit hugged his broad shoulders, still looking far too neat after the long day he had had. It made Darcy want to ruffle him up a bit, get him to take off the jacket and hat, pull loose the sapphire blue tie. He was too still. The other agents moved, shifting, playing with protein bar wrappers, talking. Agent Daniels didn’t. He sipped his water but was otherwise still and silent, sitting slightly further back from the table than the others. Ready to move at any second. Like a cat getting ready to leap. The readiness reminded her of Natasha. But even Nat relaxes eventually. We’ve been at this over an hour and he’s just not. It’s like he doesn’t trust anyone in the room not to jump up and take a swing at him. Darcy nodded to herself. The battle readiness, the lack of trust, the flinch at the thrown protein bar, and the odd reaction to her asking if he needed anything. Things were adding up, but the picture emerging wasn’t a good one. He can’t have been with SHIELD long or he’d have relaxed more. You can’t maintain that sort of active state forever. Where was he before this? What did he go through to make him so distrustful of his coworkers?

Questions nagged at Darcy’s brain as she listened to the rest of the debrief. She wanted to know more about the odd Agent Daniels, and if possible, get him to loosen up a bit. That could be an interesting new project. Operation Decode Cowboy! She already knew that he wasn’t a complete asshole; he could have doubled-down when she told him off for being cranky with Erin, but he had apologized. Darcy knew plenty of agents who wouldn’t have reacted as well. She also knew that he was from somewhere out west unless the accent was a put-on. He was also a spiffy dresser. She’d learn more.

The meeting finally wrapped up with Jane thanking them all for their time and reminding them to let her know if they found any long-term effects from being within the time pocket. “What, like our hair being longer than it should?” Malkovich asked as he stood and stretched. “Maybe one of you ladies would like to take some measurements… in private.” He leered and leaned towards them. Jane simply let the oily flirtation slide over her and left, but Darcy found it irritating. Malkovich had been perfectly professional right up until the end. Stupid, doesn’t he know who Jane is, and who she’s dating? Thor could pound him into a fine paste and Jane could rig up a portal to send him to an alternate dimension that would make the time pocket look like a vacation!

The other members of the team either hadn’t heard Malkovich or were ignoring him, but Agent Daniels stopped right behind him. His hand landed with a heavy thud on Malkovich’s shoulder. Malkovich either winced or flinched, Darcy couldn’t tell.

“Manners maketh man,” Daniels intoned in a dangerously soft voice. Darcy would have laughed and reminded him that his own manners weren’t always perfect if the air hadn’t felt so thick with tension. Malkovich’s eyes were wide and suddenly afraid. Darcy peered around him. Daniel’s face was no longer the neutral mask. His mouth was tight and his eyebrows furrowed. His eyes had gone very cold and dark. He was pissed. It shocked Darcy nearly as bad as it had shocked Malkovich. When men called out other men’s behavior it was usually in a jocular or polite tone; a friendly ‘hey man, not cool’ or ‘you shouldn’t talk to her that way’. They didn’t usually exude a murderous rage that froze the air around them. She suddenly knew that Daniels could snap Malkovich like a toothpick, and Malkovich knew that too.

“Right! Sorry! That was inappropriate!” Malkovich’s voice was a whole octave higher than when he had last spoken. Darcy watched Agent Daniels’ knuckles whiten as he squeezed the other man’s shoulder and pushed him slightly in the direction of the door. Malkovich didn’t quite run out, but it was close.

Daniels started to follow him at a much more sedate pace, but Darcy flung an arm out without thinking as he went by, being careful not to actually touch him. She didn’t want him to leave without saying something. Daniels stopped again, looking at her now. His eyebrows were still slightly furrowed, but most of anger had already dissipated at Malkovich’s speedy exit.

“I could have handled him myself,” stated Darcy. “He wouldn’t be the first asshole I’ve had to teach a lesson, and he won’t be the last.” It was important somehow that Daniels didn’t see her as weak, that he knew she could take care of herself. Earlier, when they had been talking about the oxygen issue, they had felt equals, like he respected her. She didn’t want to let that feeling go. She took a deep breath and forced herself to release the tension. “I could have handled him,” she repeated. “But you made it so that I didn’t have to. Thank you.” 

Once upon a time Agent Whiskey had been a flirt, albeit a terrible one. Not that he didn’t appeal to a certain type, but being some debonair operator was one part of being an spy that he had never mastered. Flirting, in Jack’s opinion, was meant to be fun for both parties, not something done to make a colleague uncomfortable. Malkovich was a slimeball. The old phrase had leaped from his lips before he could reconsider his words. He himself didn’t have much in the way of social graces anymore; a weapon didn’t need manners. That didn’t mean he would tolerate slimeballs.

He looked down at Darcy Lewis as she threw out an arm to stop him from leaving. She was tall, curvy, and a little pink in the cheeks. Angry, he thought, but at Malkovich’s rudeness or his interference? He could have pushed past her, but he lingered.

“Thank you.” Her eyes were an interesting shade. They looked more blue today. Her lipstick today was wine red and she was biting her lower lip just a little as she stared up at him. Yeah, she could probably could have dealt with Malkovich by turning him down flat and reminding him that sexual harassment complaints were a thing, but his way felt much more satisfying. It felt good, that ‘thank you’. Jack had lived his life trying to protect people and have fun doing it. Now he just continued living and tried to justify his existence by working for an organization that occasionally did good. It was only putting the fear of god into a slimeball, but the ‘thank you’ from Lewis made him feel like the day hadn’t been a total waste.

She was still looking up at him with those great big eyes of hers, watching him steadily. She seemed to be expecting something from him, so he said “I know you could have handled him. After all, you handled me.” He raised a hand and dipped his hat to her, breaking the eye contact. “Ma’am,” he said by way of leave-taking and slid easily around her and out the door.

Chapter Text

Darcy began work on her new pet project the next day. She deliberately lingered in the cafeteria during her breaks and mealtimes. She was looking either for the cowboy himself or for someone who might be willing to gossip about him. She stuck pay dirt a few days later with Gladys.

“’Hi Gladys, mind if I join you?” The older woman with steel gray hair, wire frame glasses, and a baleful glare that could have put Professor McGonagall to shame did not look like a warm and friendly person, but first impressions could be very deceiving, particularly at SHEILD.

“Darcy! How lovely to see you, please do.” Gladys waved Darcy into the seat across from her. Darcy put her tray down and smiled brightly. “Is that one of yours?” Gladys motioned to Darcy’s sweater.

“No, but my socks are.”  They had tiny lightning bolts and Thor’s hammer, Mjolnir, on them. Knitting them had taken Darcy a few weeks and she was happy with the result. “Is that new?” Darcy asked of fine lace kerchief held around Gladys’ neck with an antique broach.

“Oh no, I made this one years ago, but it’s the perfect weight for this fall weather.” Darcy nodded appreciatively at the woman’s craft. She and Gladys were among the SHIELD employees that did some sort of fiber craft. Darcy loved knitting and Gladys did exceptionally fine crochet lace. They usually had lunch once or twice a month, sometimes joined by some of the other crafters, to admire completed works and compare projects. Today wasn’t one of the arranged meetings, but Darcy knew Gladys would be good company, and possibly a source of information. Gladys worked in HR, so perhaps she would know about the cowboy.

After a few minutes of crafting chitchat, Darcy swung the conversation towards work. “I had an agent for a recent debrief who has a really… interesting sense of fashion.”

“Oh?” Gladys perked up, perhaps eager to be distracted from the sadness of chicken Caesar salad. Darcy waved her own fork loaded with pasta salad in emphasis.

“Yes! You must have seen him around. He wears a cowboy hat!”

“Oh, him! He’s new to New York, new to SHIELD by a few months. While there’s nothing in the regulations that prohibits a cowboy hat - and didn’t John Tavish try his hardest to find one - it seems like outlandish work apparel to me!”

“Ugh, John!” Darcy muttered scornfully. John had gone after her more than once for her own work apparel. Today she wore black skinny jeans, combat boots, and a cashmere sweater that had been a gift from Tony last Christmas. Perfectly presentable in her opinion, but John had tried to go after her multiple times for being a female lab manager that didn’t wear slacks or a skirt. Also for her funny t-shirts. Also for just anything fun. “Well, who cares what that stick in the mud thinks. What did you think of him?” Gladys chewed thoughtfully.

“His evaluations have been strong, but… they are having trouble finding him a permanent position. Teamwork doesn’t seem to be his strong suit. No actual HR issues to speak of, but he seems to make people… uncomfortable.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I met him in person once during his intake process, and he was polite enough. I think people are finding him a bit, hmm, intense. Unnerving.” Darcy nodded. Yes, she could understand that. He was intense, but so were a lot of the people that worked at SHIELD. It didn’t seem fair to her that Daniels was having trouble finding a place because of that.

“Maybe he just needs to loosen up a bit? Maybe when he’s more comfortable…” Gladys nodded.

“That could very well be.” Gladys’ green eyes flashed with sudden insight. “Perhaps making a friend or two would help!” Darcy cocked her head.

“He doesn’t have any friends here?” Even the most intense and anti-social agents usually bonded a least a little with one of their field teammates or developed a rapport with one of the support agents or handlers.

“Not a one,” Gladys sighed. “He eats by himself most days, I think. And none of the teams he’s worked on seem warmly disposed towards him.”

Well, crud, Darcy thought as she turned the conversation towards one of Gladys’ grandchildren who was herself having trouble making friends in high school. There goes the simple solution of inviting him to a karaoke night to loosen him up. Her project was going to be more difficult than she had thought it would be. She could give up for now and hope that the taciturn agent would eventually settle in and make nice with his coworkers, but giving up didn’t sit well with her.

She continued to think about it after bidding Gladys a good day and returning to her office. She made her rounds of the labs, checking for problems, and making sure her scientists had taken recent breaks for food. She saved Jane’s lab for last. The big glass walled room contained a mélange of whiteboards stuffed with equations, computers running simulations or compiling data, piles of papers that could be junk or the next major breakthrough in modern science, and multiple mugs of coffee in various states of partially drunk.

“Jane? Are you in here?” Jane’s head popped up from behind a worktable.

“Darcy? What’s up? Did I miss a meeting?”

“No, silly, it’s time for Wednesday yoga.” She chuckled. Some things would never change.

“But it can’t possibly be time for-“ Jane looked at her watch. “Oh, it’s five o’clock. But I was really hoping to get the part of the particle detector fixed before-“

“Will the universe implode if you don’t finish it tonight?” Darcy cut across her friend, folding her arms. Jane frowned.

“Well, obviously not, but-“

“Then you’ve lost your only excuse for missing yoga.” Jane tossed the tool she was holding back onto the worktable with ill grace. “Don’t pout! You’re the one who told me to drag you there come hell or apocalypse! Or do you want a repeat of last month when you pulled a muscle while you and Thor were-“

“Okaaaay! Let’s go!” Darcy grinned. Jane just needed the proper motivation. Darcy herself hated most forms of exercise and found yoga to be the lesser of many evils. They headed to one of the smaller workout rooms in the SHIELD gym where the weekly after-work yoga for regular people (not super flexible agents) was held, chatting about their days, keeping each other up to date on work and personal lives. Darcy had told Jane about her previous run-in with Agent Daniels and about how he had dealt with Malkovich. Now she filled her in on her gossip with Gladys.

“I think he just needs a bit of push. Maybe some personal introductions to people who won’t be phased by him.” Jane snorted at her.

“Darcy, that guy looked as cold-blooded as they come. And he barely spoke!”

“He just needs to warm up a little.”

“But why do you want to get involved with this?” Darcy shrugged, trying to seem casual.

“He reminds me a bit of Nat.” Nat had walked around with eyes like him more often before Darcy had befriended her. Nat was also one of the most dangerous people in the city. Nat had needed someone to remind her what normal life was like, and maybe Agent Daniels did too.

“Nat was always safe to be around, but this guy might not be! Think. Why would Malkovich be so freaked out be him? Malkovich is a senior agent! This guy is probably a serious psycho.”

Darcy disagreed, but she lacked evidence to properly dispute it. Jane was all about evidence. SHIELD agents were, by nature of their jobs, a little crazy. There were definitely some people at SHIELD that Darcy steered clear of, but that was mostly because they were assholes, not because they had personally threatened her safety. Darcy switched the topic to an upcoming conference in Munich that Jane still hadn’t decided to attend because she didn’t want to argue. They changed in the locker room and went in to yoga with the topic of potentially crazy cowboy agents put aside for the day. Or so Darcy thought.

Sparring was the only thing that felt the same to Jack. The rhythm of combat flowed through his blood. It was better than dancing or flying or fucking. He felt most alive when he played this deadly game. They could take away his weapons, his allies, and even his name, but this was something no one could touch. Life and death combat was sublime but sparring for practice still brought him joy, about the only thing that did anymore. In sparring he could lose himself and just be a body in motion.

Today it had been some stupid rank and file agent. The idiot had spoken up at a planning session for an upcoming mission, demanding to know why Jack was being assigned to a senior squad that would see the most action. The man called Jack show-off trick shooter who would hadn’t earned his place. No one could deny Jack’s shooting ability. He had demonstrated it several times in the field and pretty much every day on the range since he came to New York. The idiot had disputed that Jack could handle the close-quarter combat demands of the assignment since he hadn’t worked his way up through the SHIELD ranks. The idiot had been the first one Jack had thrown to the mat.

Jack had told the idiot and everyone in the meeting that if they doubted his skills they were welcome to test them. After the official meeting had wrapped up all the agents, support staff, and technical specialists present for the challenge had filed down to the sparring gym. The group had gathered more looky-loos as people notified friends and coworkers that a fight was going down.

“Try not to kill him.” Jack had looked over at Rumlow, who had also been at the meeting.

“Pardon?”

“Don’t kill him,” Rumlow stated flatly. “He’s a cocky little shit, but some bruises to his ego should help with that. He can’t learn if he’s dead.”

“You think I can’t deal with that jackass?” He narrowly manages to keep a laugh out of his voice. Rumlow stopped in front of the gym doors and narrowed his eyes, being perfectly serious.

“No. I know you can, which is what I’m worried about.” Fantastic. The guy who’s supposed to be my team leader believes me to be a homicidal maniac. Jack’s jaw worked. Is he wrong? What’s left for you but fighting? That sharp edged voice in his head continued, You’re a weapon. Used or discarded as others see fit. Other people have lives, but not you. Statesmen was your life and they discarded you like a used tissue. To SHIELD you are a weapon. Why not be a great one? Jack bared his teeth at the other man, but nobody would have confused it for a smile. Rumlow took a tiny step back.

He entered the gym and made his way over to the elevated sparring platform where the idiot was already standing doing some warmup stretches. Jack stopped by a bench and began divesting himself of weaponry: shoulder holsters, ankle holster, belt knife. He was lightly armed for a day of sitting in meetings and filing paperwork. He stalked to the platform and swung himself up.

“Not even gonna take off your precious hat, cowboy?” Jeered the idiot. He had taken off his weapons, suit jacket, and tie. Jack paused for a second, thinking, did I replace the garrot in my hatband after the last time? No, he hadn’t. Instead he reached up and undid his tie and tie clip. He pressed a hidden catch and a tiny blade that could be used as a pick or to stab someone in the eye popped out.

“Almost forgot.” The idiot looked a little disconcerted. Perhaps now he was finally beginning to see the caliber of agent he was up against. He laid out the tie and pin on one of the corner posts and moved to the starting mark. The idiot moved to his mark, and someone counted them down.

Time slows to a dreamlike crawl. Jack dodges the idiots’ first fast attacks. He is fast, Jack will give him that, but sloppy. It’s too easy. On his next big swing, Jack darts past and delivers a devastating kidney punch. As the idiot doubles over gasping, Jack sweeps his legs out from underneath him and slams him into the mat. Jack kneels over him, one hand on his shoulder and the other ready to deliver a swift punch to the throat that would collapse his airway.

“Want another round, boy?” Jack’s accent turns the phrase into a soft drawl, betraying his amusement. The idiot’s eyes were wide, showing white all around. He shook his head. When he slinks off the mat, another takes his place.

And another.

And another.

Jack loses count of his opponents. Some give him more trouble than others, actually landing hits, or getting creative enough to draw things out. He still hasn’t lost his hat. He does eventually remove it and the jacket because beating the shit out of people is hot work. He pays no attention to the people watching from the floor. Nothing matters anymore except opponents.

Darcy and Jane stepped out of the yoga room and into a crowd of people. They all stood watching a sparring match, murmuring to each other. At first Darcy couldn’t make out who was fighting, so she wove through a few people to get a closer look with Jane in tow. Two men exchanged a fury of blows almost too fast for Darcy’s eyes to follow. One of the men was short, compact, with wiry black hair, who kept trying to get his opponent in a grapple. The other man lunged back out of his reach with a quick grin that said ‘ha ha, too slow!’ It was bright and vicious, and made his whole face light up in a way that Darcy hadn’t seen before.

“He isn’t wearing his hat today,” Darcy whispered as her eyes traced the arch of Jack Daniels’ nose and the line of his mustache. His shoulders were broad and strong. She remembered meeting him in R&D and wondering if it was just his jacket doing him favors. Apparently not. She stood completely still as both combatants paused to breathe and watch each other intently. A trickle of sweat ran down the column of his throat into the open collar of his shirt that was devoid of its tie, revealing a tan clavicle. Daniels’ tongue flicked out to touch his bloodied lower lip and Darcy unconsciously mirrored the action. His mouth quirked up in the tiniest smirk before he attacked. He fought like a whirlwind and Darcy couldn’t look away.

“What’s up with those guys? Some kind of grudge match?” Jane asked one of the other spectators.

“Those two? Nah. This started when some young hotshot got uppity with Daniels in a meeting. Daniels told him that if he doubted his abilities then he was welcome to test them. Daniels beat that guy in under a minute! Now he’s just sparring for fun.”

It did appear as though Daniels was enjoying himself. And looks damn good doing it. Darcy shook her head at the errant thought, but her eyes followed Daniels as he used his opponent’s momentum to throw him into the corner. The man’s head made a solid thwack against the padding and the post shuddered under the impact. Daniels cocked his fist but paused as the other man struggled to pull himself straight. He waited as the man raised a wobbling hand and brought it down in a slashing motion. “I’m done.”

Daniels lowered his own hands and nodded. “Good fight.”

“Good fight,” the man replied dizzily as he lowered himself off the platform. A few of the onlookers clapped and cheered, and Darcy watched some exchange money. I won’t have to worry about him after all. She was feeling a little dizzy herself. She fanned her face experimentally. It was probably just all the heat and testosterone flying thick in the air. He gave them a show and looked hot doing it. What the hell, nuh-uh! Agent Daniels was not her type! She didn’t like men with mustaches, cowboy hats, and killer stares. He just happens to look really good right now! I was the one who thought he should get a little mussed, she thought dryly. I just didn’t expect him to resemble sex on a stick when it happened!

Darcy surveyed the small crowd that was cheering on both men. A couple had stepped forward to lend the loser a stabilizing hand and clap him on the back. The bout was over, but Daniels hadn’t stepped out of the ring. The demonstration of his fighting abilities, restraint, and sportsmanship that she had just seen would be all over SHIELD HQ by tomorrow. Daniels would probably be welcomed onto his pick of teams and assignments. People would certainly want to sit with him at lunch now, if only to talk fighting styles and guns. Her question of whether or not to continue with her pet project of getting Agent Daniels to loosen up had been answered. His tie was off and his dark brown hair was spiky from sweat; he had certainly loosened up. He didn’t need any help from her.

She heard Jane say that since the show was over, she was going back to the lab to get some more work done. Darcy waved her off, eyes not leaving Agent Daniels. He had strode back to the center of the sparring area and was standing loose limbed and ready. He looked straight ahead, waiting for his next opponent. The brief levity she had seen on his face had melted away, and all that remained was steel. Cold and heavy. Unlike his opponent, no one was clapping him on the back or offering him water. He was completely alone up there.

The next fight was short and brutal. The combatants exchanged no words or smiles. Daniels beat him after a brief exchange of blows by landing a powerful kick to his shoulder. The other man reeled, and Daniels had him toppled and pinned with an arm behind his back before he could recover. The man had gotten in one good shot to Daniels’ ribs, but Daniels hadn’t made a sound. He still doesn’t as his opponent exits the ring and he settled back into his expectant posture. That had to have hurt! I heard that punch form all the way back here. Why doesn’t he stop and check it? Why isn’t he even reacting to it?

Darcy turned to the person who had answered Jane’s question before and tugged on their sleeve. “How many people has he fought?” The man shrugged.

“Dunno. Wasn’t counting. I know he fought Sands, Thompson, Garcia, Anders, Nguyen, Brown-“ Too many.

“That’s too many!” Darcy interrupted, her voice rising. “How long has he been going?”

“The meeting wrapped up just after 5, so maybe an hour?”

“An hour?” Darcy was almost shouting. Another agent was already climbing up onto the platform, getting into position to fight Daniels. He had been fighting continuously for an hour! Darcy knew that was an eternity in hand-to-hand combat. It was way longer than someone should be fighting even practice bouts. Even little blows could stack up to bigger, more permanent injuries. She began to push through the crowd. She knew why he hadn’t reacted to it; he couldn’t. He wasn’t in any condition to stop himself. Locked down. There was only one outcome to this situation; someone was going to get hurt. Either Daniels was going to lose control and seriously injure an opponent, or someone was finally going to break him. Her rage built as she pushed past agents she knew, agents who should know better. Darcy reached the platform. Carmen Jimenez was pulling her short black ponytail tighter as she prepared to fight Daniels.

 “Hey!” Darcy slapped the surface of the mat with her open palm. It boomed through the space like a firework. Jimenez looked down at her. Agent Daniels’ eyes didn’t so much as flicker. He was still. Too still.

“Oh hey, Darcy!” Jimenez squatted down in front of her. “Did you come to watch the show?”

“No.” Carmen was a nice person who shared Darcy’s taste for over-priced sugary coffee drinks. Darcy liked her, but her voice still came out sharp with anger. “This has to stop.”

“What? Why?” How the fuck can she explain? This extremely dangerous man, in a room full of extremely dangerous people, reminds me too much of my friends? I know he’s not going to stop until there’s blood all over the floor, and I’m scared that it’s going to be his?

She had seen this behavior from Clint, Natasha, Steve, Thor, and even Tony sometimes. The intense focus only on defeating the next opponent to step into range of their fists. Only on surviving the next few seconds. Locked into the fight, unable to remember that there was a world outside. The Avengers were capable of doing terrible damage when they got like this, even to their friends. Agent Daniels was trapped in that place. She had seen it before, and she saw it now. This has to stop.

Darcy planted her palms on the platform and levered herself up. She wasn’t graceful about it and it turned into more of a scramble. “He’s been fighting for too long without a break. When was the last time someone gave this guy a drink of water?” she demanded. Jimenez looked taken aback.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know?”

“Well unless you want bragging rights for beating up a guy dizzy from dehydration, you’ll grab him a bottle right now.” The low tone she used was one of almost mocking rationality. It was a tone that said people were stupid for not doing exactly what she ordered. Jimenez raised her eyebrows but straightened and began to talk to someone on the floor. Darcy paid no attention. She ducked under the ropes and slowly stood up. No sudden moves when dealing with a big, scary predator. She edged into the position Jimenez had left so that she would be in Daniels’ eyeline.

“So… how’s your day been, Agent Daniels?” Darcy began softly, not expecting any kind of response. His eyes snapped to hers and Darcy’s heart began to pound. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black. She had thought he was intense before, but not like this. She inhaled sharply before forcing herself to exhale slowly, dropping the tension she had picked up in her shoulders. She casually opened her hands at waist height before crossing them. No weapons, and crossed arms would slow someone making an attack. Zero aggression.

“My day’s been good, thanks. I haven’t had to put out any fires or stop someone from blowing up the building. I call that pretty successful.” She kept her voice low, softer than her usual conversational register. She knew that tone was important when dealing with stressed animals, and what were people but highly sophisticated animals? Darcy drifted languidly towards him.

 “I had a lovely catch up with Gladys at lunch. She told me about this beautiful silk she got at a sample sale.” The topic wasn’t important. She needed to keep talking, to remind him that the outside world still existed, that he didn’t need to keep fighting. She was past the halfway point. She was nearly within arm’s reach. She wasn’t sure what would happen at that point. Daniels could snap at any time and respond to her as a threat. Her meager self defense skills, even ones drilled into her by multiple alien invasions and well-meaning Avengers would be worthless against him. He was clocking her. His eyes moved to follow her.

“Gladys says it’s a pale blue, which isn’t a personal favorite of mine. How about you? I think you’re a navy blue or hunter green man.” Her heart was thudding so hard against her ribcage she wondered if he could hear it. It was all she could hear. She wasn’t sure if everyone else had left because Daniels demanded her full focus. He was three feet away and still as a statue. Now that she was closer, she could see the movement of his chest and the slow march of a bead of sweat at his temple. Someone had split his full lower lip. A crimson bead hung there.

“You’re bleeding, Agent,” Darcy told him gently. “You should take care of that before you stain your shirt. Can I help?” Something jarred him. Daniels blinked hard. “Please?” She whispered. His breath rattled out in a long stream. Darcy saw his hands twitch. She took a step closer. A huge gamble as it put her in his personal space. “Please, Cowboy?” He inhaled sharply and his head drew back.

“Lewis. What the hell are you doin’ here.” His voice was hoarse and flatter than a pancake, but he was talking.

“Oh, I in the neighborhood, just browsing for some real estate…“ she trailed off. A muscle in his cheek jumped. Darcy smiled and couldn’t stop a tense chuckle from escaping. Yes, it’s difficult to be a scary badass when I’m being annoying, isn’t it? “This is such a walkable area, and it’s close to some really great coffee shops. I’m considering taking up permanent residence.” More blinking and twitching. Finally, his eyebrow quirked up. A more human expression crept through. “But the locals do make a big racket when there’s a show on,” she continued derisively. “I didn’t realize you were putting on a strip show and auditioning for Magic Mike.” Oh please be still my beating heart! Darcy Lewis, you did not just say that to the sexy, scary cowboy agent! It wasn’t the first time her mouth had run away from her, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Agent Daniels tried to frown and laugh at the same time. “What?” He looked down at himself as though to make sure that he hadn’t actually striped down. A girl can dream.

“Lost your tie somewhere?” She asked him in a helpful sunny tone. The corner of his mouth began to migrate north. She couldn’t help sweetening her voice in flirtation. “Not that me and the rest of the male-attracted staff mind, of course. But you really are about to bleed on that nice white shirt of yours.” His eyebrow and the corner of his mouth shot up. The movement caused the scarlet bead to slip down his chin. His hand jumped to it, smudging red against already flushed skin with a sweep of his thumb. I am sick for finding that kind of hot?

“Ah. Didn’t realize…” he trailed off. His eyes jumped back to hers, and Darcy was relieved to see that they’d lightened. The battle intensity was fading.

“Yeah,” she grinned up at him. “You were a little busy beating up a hoard of agents who wanted a shot at the new guy. You’ve been at for at least an hour.” She turned away from him and walked to the edge. “Where’s that water, huh?”

“Here, Darce,” called out a sandy haired woman. She flung a bottle of water over the heads of a few spectators. Darcy caught it, fumbled, and dropped it.

“Darn it, Susan, you know I can’t catch for shit!” That sent a roll of laughter echoing through the crowd as Darcy retrieved the bottle and brought it to Daniels. She held it out to him. Daniels didn’t take it. The warmth had left his face again and she was met with a blank expression. She shook the bottle.

 “Ground control to Major Tom! Drink your water, Daniels.” He took it warily but drank it down in under a minute.

“Hmm. Thanks. Didn’t realize how thirsty I was,” he said as he screwed the cap back on. Yeah, me neither, thought Darcy as she struggled to tear her gaze away from the muscles in his neck. Darcy swallowed hard and shrugged away his thanks.

“No biggie. I’m heading out. Nearly time for dinner and I have a hankering for Chinese takeout tonight! I think I’ll get beef teriyaki and some noodles.” Quit babbling, you idiot! “I’ll see you around, Daniels.”  She turned to go.

“I had no idea it had gotten so late. I should probably head out too.” And then Daniels was passing her. He vaulted in one smooth motion over the ropes and landed easily on the floor. He had his hat back on, and his jacket and tie were draped over one arm. A chorus of groans and disappointed mutterings followed his pronouncement. The gathering began to disperse. The show was over.

Darcy grumbled inwardly about agents and annoying feats of agility as she maneuvered herself through the top two ropes. She had her feet firmly planted on the outside edge and was going to lower herself slowly with as much dignity as possible when Daniels cleared his throat. He tossed his jacket over his shoulder and reached up with both hands.

“May I?” There was a tiny smirk on his face. May you what?

“Sure,” Darcy said without thinking. His hands closed on her hips and Darcy could feel the heat of them through her yoga pants. They were large and strong. He lifted her. Darcy was airborne for only a second before he lowered her effortlessly to the ground. She had been on rollercoasters that didn’t make her stomach flip as much as that movement did. The imprints of his hands burned then went terribly cold as he released her. She wanted them back. She stared up at him in shock, his face mere inches from hers. The smirk hadn’t faded yet and it made his eyes look warmer than she’d ever seen them. Darcy wondered how a full smile would transmute his face. She wants it, wants to see it, wants to be the cause of it.

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly. There was still a little smear of blood at the corner of his mouth. He nodded and stepped away. Some of the stragglers converged on him, asking him to settle a debate about which movement combo he prefers. Darcy was glad of the distraction.

She made a beeline for the door and didn’t stop moving until she was safely back in her office where there were no hot but damaged agents waiting to pick her up and make her stomach do more impressive flips than Simone Biles. Holy Shit. Grumpy Cowboy is seriously hot. It had been easy to miss given his generally murderous aura distracting her. Darcy had also been slightly desensitized to hotness thanks to hanging out with Thor and Steve.

Darcy had always found Rumlow hot, and still did. Their breakup had been more about their compatibility as people. Darcy enjoyed sleeping in on Saturdays. Rumlow like to be up at 5 to go running. Darcy wanted to hangout and play games with friends or watch a funny movie. Rumlow liked to watch the fights on pay-per-view. They hadn’t worked as a couple, but they stayed friends after the breakup. The last person Darcy had kissed wasn’t Rumlow though. She had gone out on the town with some of the other SHIELD women, hunting in a pack. Darcy had scored with a ginger haired guy who had done some very impressive work with his tongue that night. Maybe she needed to go out again.

Darcy gathered her things and went home, where she certainly had no sexy cowboys tempting her.

Chapter Text

How long had she been standing there? He didn’t know. Jack had been fighting. He remembered fighting, but he couldn’t remember their names. Then she had been standing there, talking to him. He knew her. Her hair was in a loose braid with curly tendrils flying free. Her bold lipstick was missing, but he remembered shape of her mouth. Darcy Lewis. Wearing black yoga pants and a t-shirt that said 'give me coffee or give me death’, she looked so…soft. The way she spoke was soft too. She wasn’t there to fight him.
“Gladys…silk…blue.” Lewis was talking to him. She said the strangest things. What was she saying now? He wasn’t going to fight Lewis. He wanted to listen to what she was saying. Maybe she’d say something absolutely ridiculous again like ‘shooty things’.
“-bleeding, Agent. You should take care of that-“ Bleeding? Someone was hurt? That happened when you fought.
“Can I help? “ Help how? Weapons didn’t need help. He tasted blood in his mouth.
“Please?” She whispered. It sounded so sweet when she said that. He’d rather something sweet than something bloody. His lip burned. A spot on his ribs was on fire. He could feel an ache in his knuckles. He tried to flex his hands to clear it. She had come closer. She was closer than she had been in the conference room. But they weren’t in a conference room or a lab. They were in the gym. Yes, he remembered fighting the idiot, then someone else. A lot of someones. But Lewis was a scientist, he wasn’t going to fight her, so what was she doing here?
“Please, Cowboy?”
“Lewis. What the hell are you doin’ here.” His throat felt dryer than Death Valley.
“Oh, I was in the neighborhood, just browsing for some real estate.” Real estate? In the SHIELD campus or the gym? Neither made sense.
“This is such a walkable area, and it’s close to some really great coffee shops. I’m considering taking up permanent residence.” Here she goes again. Woman has a real strange sense of humor. Permanent residence, ha! Some folks around here do work some weird hours. He wouldn’t be surprised if some of them did camp out.
“But the locals do make a big racket when there’s a show on. I didn’t realize you were putting on a strip show and auditioning for Magic Mike.” The comment threw him so off balance. It had to be the strangest thing she’d said to him so far. Lewis’ eyebrow was raised, waiting for him to participate in the joke. But he couldn’t figure out how to respond. It had been so long. Her eyes were fixed on some point below his chin.
“What?” He looked down to try to pinpoint what she was staring at, but there was nothing unusual.
“Lost your tie somewhere?” Her voice had sweetened, dripping honey and amusement. He wasn’t wearing his tie, or his jacket, or his hat. Jack supposed that by his usual office standards he was looking a little sloppy, but Magic Mike? Really?
“Not that me and the rest of the male-attracted staff mind, of course. But you really are about to bleed on that nice white shirt of yours.” As though he had taken off several articles of clothing, not to throw around his coworkers, but for her pleasure. There’s a thought he hadn’t bothered with in a while. Jack couldn’t help smirking at her. The woman said the most outrageous things. He was beginning to like it. The movement of his mouth made his lip burn more, and a bit of wetness trickled downward. Right. No reason to get blood on his shirt. He brushed it away. His thumb was strained with red.
“Ah. Didn’t realize…” Huh, she saved me a cleaning bill. She smiled. She hadn’t done that before.
“Yeah, you were a little busy beating up a hoard of agents who wanted a shot at the new guy. You’ve been at for at least an hour.” Oops. She turned and went over to the ropes.
“Where’s that water, huh?”
“Here, Darce,” called out a sandy haired woman. She flung something to Lewis, who tried and failed to catch it.
“Darn it, Susan, you know I can’t catch for shit!” Lewis scooped up a bottle of water, slightly flushed, and returned. She extended the hand that held the bottle.
No, she could not. Jeezus, if the woman did ever have to fight, she’d be doomed. The chuckles that had rumbled through the room drew his attention to just how many people had gathered there. Some were dressed in workout gear, but plenty looked like they had just stepped out of the office. It made him wary. Had they all come to see what he was made of?
She was still holding out the bottle. Could she not open it herself? Lewis shook it.
“Ground control to Major Tom! Drink your water, Daniels.” It was for him? Oh right, he recalled the meeting, she did this last time too. What is it with this women and water? He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so Jack put it down to more of Lewis’ eccentric behavior. He took a sip just to pacify her. It felt cool going down and he could feel it hit the empty pit of his stomach. When had he last eaten? He drank the whole thing and felt a little better.
“Hmm. Thanks. Didn’t realize how thirsty I was,” he said as he screwed the cap back on.
“No biggie. I’m heading out. Nearly time for dinner and I have a hankering for Chinese takeout tonight! I think I’ll get beef teriyaki and some noodles. I’ll see you around, Daniels.” Fuck, that would really hit the spot. When had it gotten so late? Time liked to flow differently when there was fighting to be done. He could feel a trickled of sweat run down his back. He wanted a shower, and he wanted food. More water might be a good idea too. He had shown the idiot just what he was dealing with, and plenty of his other coworkers knew now too. He didn’t need to prove anything else today.
“I had no idea it had gotten so late. I should probably head out too.” Jack pitched his voice loudly enough to make the rest of the peanut galley hear him. His tie, clip, and hat were sitting atop one of the posts with his coat draped over the top rope. He collected them before hopping down to ground level. It just happened to be right by where Lewis was ducking through the ropes because it was the side closest to the door. She moved at an incredibly glacial pace. Probably hadn’t spent much time in the ring, if any. He noticed that she eyed the ground with thin-lipped annoyance. It amused him.
“May I?”
“Sure.” She weighed maybe 140 pounds. Easy. He threw his clothes over his shoulder and picked up Darcy Lewis. His fingers sunk slightly into the supple curves of her hips and his thumbs settled automatically on the points of her hip bones. If he hadn’t been lifting her, he could have shifted his hands ever so slightly until they met across the span of her back. Her eyes went wide as he lowered her to the ground. He removed his hands before they decided to do any wandering. Lewis looked up at him. Perhaps picking her up had been a mistake. She was so close that he could smell her. Coffee and something floral. Her eyes were more grey today, looking up at him through thick lashes.
“Thanks,” she said quietly. He had thought picking her up would be funny like when he used to toss Ginger around, but maybe he offended her. He nodded and stepped away. People converged on him. Agent Carstairs and Agent Omoyo wanted to know what his favorite combo was. Agent Acosta was curious about his combat style and influences. Agent Liu informed him that betting on Jack had just won him 50 bucks. She slapped him on the back.
“First rounds on me when we have our next night out!”
Jack waded through the conversations with as much politeness as he could summon. Ordinarily, he enjoyed these kinds of conversations, but now he wanted a shower and food. After 20 minutes he gave up on trying to find a natural opening and simply said, “We’ll have to resume this talk another time, gotta get goin’ now.”
He made it home, showered off, and made a sandwich for dinner. He was too hungry to wait for takeout. He fell onto his couch with only a small groan of pain from his protesting bruises and flipped on a nature documentary about the ecology of Madagascar. He watched lemurs flit through the trees and wondered if Darcy Lewis had gotten her Chinese food. He wondered about Darcy Lewis in general. Why was she always giving him water? Had she gotten egg rolls with her takeout. He loved a good egg roll. Did she drink so much coffee that the scent leaked from her pores? Why had she been in the gym? Why had she gotten up on the sparring platform if it wasn’t to fight him? Who was Darcy Lewis?

Chapter Text

The next day Jack was scheduled to go out on a retrieval mission with Rumlow’s team. He was grateful for SHIELD’s industrial strength bruise balm. His injuries from sparring were minimal and he had certainly fought in far worse condition, but the numbing agent was nice. He clambered into the back of the chopper without a trace of discomfort crossing his face. They were flying out to a remote part of upper New York to locate a potential alien artifact that had been sitting in a local museum for years. A social media post had drawn attention to it when it was mentioned how the marks carved into the crystal resembled the marks scored into the pavement where a portal had opened last year in California. It was probably nothing, but there had been several odd disappearances in the area where people reported seeing flashes of blue light. They were to approach the museum to see if SHIELD could simply have it for examination, and if the museum refused, take it anyway.

“A nice cushy assignment to round out the week,” Villenova said as she climbed in. Jack agreed. The mission would be boring, but at least the flight would be nice. Or it would be, if Malkovich ever sat down. The only open seat remaining was next to Jack.

“Switch with me,” Malkovich demanded of Kelson.

“Just sit down, Malkovich,” Brock told him. “Quit wasting time.” Malkovich sat gingerly next to Jack, casting anxious glances his way. “Problem?”

“Nope,” Jack answered before Malkovich could respond. “Or at least there won’t be, so long as Malkovich remembers his manners.” He stared hard at Malkovich. “Right, Malkovich?” Malkovich swallowed hard.

“Right.”

“Oh, Malkovich is just nervous after that display yesterday,” giggled Villenova. “Let’s be honest, no one was expecting that, and we’ve seen Daniels in the field before! I think it gave all the upper-level agents a good shock. I heard Nguyen and Tims saying that we should have an regular upper-level sparring practice to encourage continual improvement. Sounded like fun to me.”

“I didn’t even use my whip,” grumbled Jack. He knew his hand-to-hand combat style was dirty, utilitarian, and effective. How interesting could it have been to watch? Now when he incorporated his whip was when things got a lot more interesting. It probably wasn’t a common weapon within SHIELD, so it would have made for a novel experience for most agents. Jack hadn’t meant to speak loudly, but all eyes in the helicopter fastened onto him.

“Your what now?” Kelson demanded. Rumlow chuckled.

“His whip, Kelson. Didn’t you read his file?” Nelson shrugged. “If I hadn’t already, that would have been the first thing I did after yesterday. Good lesson for you, know what skills your teammates bring to the table. You never know what might be useful.”

The conversation went on without any further input from Jack as his teammates discussed the rare and random skills they knew different agents had. It made for companionable background noise as Jack watched the world fly by below them. It was also informative. Agent Mahmoud apparently could balance several trays of full champagne glasses without spilling a drop. Agent Piers could hang upside by the ankles while making a discreet hole with a glass cutter.

“Daniels has this random note in his file that just says ‘lasso’. The heck does that mean?” asked Carmichael as he looked up from his tablet. Again, eyes turned to Jack. He met them blankly.

“Means just what it says: lasso and ropework.” His coworkers made dissenting snorts. “I’m good at roping, and I’ve used a lasso to capture more than a few targets.”

“Hang on, whips, lassos, cowboy hat... Holy shit are you an actual cowboy?” Carmichael demanded. Now it was Jack’s turn to snort at them.

“The fuck did you think I was?”

“An eccentric guy with weird taste in fashion?” Everyone but Malkovich and Jack laughed.

The jovial air lasted throughout the mission. The small local museum was run by a cantankerous old coot who told them to come back with a warrant. They were debating the merits of playing nice and going through the motion of producing one when the decision was made for them by a bunch of floating blue lights appearing in the small gallery.

“Oh, not again!” screeched the old curator. “Damn will-o'-wisps! Back again, who will you be taking this time?!” It transpired that the curator believed the lights and local disappearances were caused by the Fay folk. Villenova persuaded the old man to turn over the stone to them as a cursed faerie artifact, explaining that the Fay would chase after whoever had possession of the stone. The curator practically threw it at them. Velasquez plunked the strange blue stone into the strongbox that SHIELD R&D had designed to contain most types of energy and exotic particles. The lights vanished, and they headed back to NYC.

“Faerie stories,” Malkovich spat. “How stupid do you have to be?”

“We have aliens and ancient Norse gods running around,” Villenova shrugged. “Faeries don’t seem too far-fetched to me. And speaking of- Rumlow, have you seen Thor lately? It’s always a great show when he and Cap spar in the SHIELD gym.”

“Why are you asking me? I’m not his best friend.”

“Yeah, but you dated his best friend.” Jack and the junior agents spun to stare at Rumlow.

“Hm, Darcy did say he’s been helping out on a Nordic cultural heritage project, so maybe he’s still in Europe.” Jack only knew one Darcy, but why would Lewis know Thor?

“Well tell her we miss him at the gym!”

“Villenova, you want me to tell my ex-girlfriend that her godly BFF should come back from Europe to entertain you?”

Jack could no longer contain himself, “What?” Rumlow sighed and massaged the side of his neck awkwardly.

“Right. That predates you joining SHIELD, Daniels. Yeah, Darcy and I dated for a bit. Amicable breakup. We’re still friendly.”

“Darcy Lewis?”

“The one and only.” Jack mulled that one over. Lewis and Rumlow had been chummy at that debrief.

“So she’s friends with...” He trailed off, not knowing how to word it.

“Thor, god of thunder,” Rumlow supplied helpfully. Jack shook his head in bewilderment. Who the fuck was Darcy Lewis? “She’s also pretty good friends with the rest of the Avengers as well.” Jack’s jaw hit the floor. Rumlow snickered. It was the most confused he had ever seen the cowboy.

“Who the fuck is Dacy Lewis?” Jack exploded. This was getting ridiculous. The woman turned up everywhere! Rumlow only laughed harder.

“Guess you wouldn’t know that either, though I am surprised that the office gossip hasn’t told you yet.”

“Darcy Lewis is an eldritch being of immense power,” intoned Kelson.

“I heard she’s a faerie princess,” Velasquez giggled.

“I heard she met Odin once and he told her she was pretty.”

“One time she hit Tony Stark in the face. It was awesome.”

Jack rubbed a hand frustratedly over his face and groaned. Rumlow took pity on him.

“Darcy was there when Thor turned up in New Mexico.” Now that was more helpful. Statesmen had heard about the strange weather patterns, mysterious hammers, and swarms of SHIELD agents descending on an otherwise ordinary little town in New Mexico and had chosen to watch from a distance. After seeing the damage done by an alien robot come to kill Thor, Statesmen had paid much closer attention to news about aliens and superheroes. Jack had read the case file on Thor’s visit to Earth years ago, and now he distantly recalled that Thor had been sheltered by an astrophysicist, one Jane Foster. Jane Foster, who now worked for SHIELD.

“Darcy was originally Jane’s intern, then assistant, and now lab manager.” Jack nodded along. “So she and Jane have known Thor since before there was an Avengers, and now she knows all of them.”

“Yeah,” sneered Malkovich. “I heard she ‘knows’ at least half of ‘em really well.” Jack could hear the sly insinuation in his voice. His mouth tightened. It was none of his business who Darcy Lewis ‘knew'. It was also none of Malkovich’s. He hadn’t decided how to react before he heard a loud guffaw. It was Rumlow.

“I dare you to repeat that shit where she can hear it, Malkovich.” Though Rumlow’s voice was laughing, his eyes were not. Jack sat back. Rumlow could handle Malkovich’s bullshit this time. Burden of being team leader.

“Darcy tased Thor, what do you think she’d do to you?” Lewis tased Thor? What the fuck? Then they were landing and the conversation ended. Jack felt even more confused by the end of the flight. He had a few pieces of the story. Lewis worked for Foster. Foster and Lewis found Thor. Lewis came to work for SHIELD. At some point she had met the rest of the Avengers, and remained closely connected enough for there to be rumors about the relationship. Malkovich’s gossip had to be taken with a huge helping of salt (given that it had come from such a slug), but there might be a grain of truth in it. Oh and she really had meant it when she said she could handle Malkovich. Jack grinned nastily at the idea of Malkovich getting tased in the balls by Lewis. It was a very satisfying picture.

Which reminded him.

After the team had handed off the artifact to the lab team for testing, Jack caught Rumlow’s eye and jerked his head. Rumlow followed him into a deserted hallway as the rest of the team headed off to do their post-mission paperwork. Rumlow had asked if there was a problem. Jack had been inclined to let one nasty incident with Malkovich go, but two demonstrated a certain pattern, one that Jack didn’t condone and didn’t want to work with. He turned to face Rumlow and squared up, crossing his arms and fixing his team leader with an evaluating gaze.

“I do have a problem with Malkovich,” He stated clearly. Rumlow nodded slowly, his expression turning pensive.

“Hm. Thought there might be. Let’s have it.”

“I don’t think I can work with him.” Rumlow raised his eyebrows.

“Because of the crap he said about Darcy? I noticed you getting all tense there. She knows about those old rumors that she’s slept with half the Avengers. She’s heard it all before.” Rumlow was being too cool about it. If someone had been standing there badmouthing an old girlfriend of Jack’s he would not have been so casual about the disrespect. It irked him. Maybe Rumlow was just trying to be a good leader and keep the peace, but Lewis warranted more consideration. He stepped closer and allowed irritation to etch itself across his face.

“Ain’t just that. I’m guessing she didn’t report him?”

“Report what?” Rumlow frowned and his voice dropped to a growl. There it was.

“That debrief we had with her and Foster after the time bubble. He made a sexually suggestive comment to her and Foster.” This did not have the effect Jack had been hoping for. Instead of getting angrier, Rumlow tossed back his head and laughed. Jack narrowly resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

“A joke? Seriously, Daniels? That’s what’s got you all upset?” Rumlow waved a hand to dismiss the issue. “Darcy makes raunchy jokes all the time, and no one gets their panties in a twist. You just don’t know her very well.” Jack’s frown deepened. It was true that he didn’t know Lewis well, and her sense of humor was a complete mystery to him, but still.

“I wasn’t laughing, and neither was she.” Rumlow waved this away too.

“It was a bad joke then. Look, I already told Malkovich that Darcy wouldn’t enjoy her private business being gossiped about. That’s the end of it.” Rumlow actually clapped Jack on the shoulder before he turned to go. “Good chat, Daniels. Have your mission paperwork in by the end of the day.”

He walked away, leaving Jack alone. Alone was not a safe place to be, especially when he was pissed off. Lewis deserved better. Any woman did. Malkovich had made a slimy joke or bad pass at Lewis. Lewis had not looked amused or charmed. She had been leaning away from Malkovich, her body language screaming ‘eww’. Jack hadn’t given her time to shoot Malkovich down (or tase him), but he doubted that she would have thanked him for the interference if she had been about to take Malkovich up on his offer. No, she definitely hadn’t found it funny. Then Malkovich had gone on to bad mouth her in front of their coworkers in a way that smacked of sour grapes.

Rumlow hadn’t shut Malkovich down, not really. He had told Malkovich that Darcy wouldn’t appreciate his comments and would retaliate, but Rumlow hadn’t told Malkovich that his words about a colleague were disrespectful and unwelcome behavior. He hadn’t stated aloud that he personally disapproved. He hadn’t condemned Malkovich’s harassment. Either incident alone might have been dismissed, but together bespoke a pattern. A pattern that Rumlow was ignoring. It made Jack wonder: had there been other incidents? Other occasions with Lewis the Rumlow didn’t know about or with other women?

Jack did not like the idea of relying on a man like Malkovich. If a man considered women lesser, as things or sexual objects, then that man was stupid or poorly socialized. You could retrain such thinking and maybe the guy would realize the error of his ways and shape up. Until that time, Jack considered such men unreliable. Stupidity got people killed. Jack had no desire to die because Malkovich underestimated a female opponent or because he decided to slap the wrong person’s ass.

What really pissed him off the most was Rumlow’s handling of it. Rumlow hadn’t even asked what Malkovich had said, just dismissed it as a joke and called the issue closed. No wonder Lewis didn’t bother to even casually mention it to him, never mind making a formal report. Sometimes reporting issues like this caused just as many issues for the victim as the perpetrator. Was Rumlow’s attitude an isolated opinion or was it representative of how SHIELD as whole dealt with such issues? Jack wasn’t sure.

“Fuck.” He headed to his desk where the mission paperwork was easily complete. Then he just stared at his emails blankly, wondering what the fuck to do. He could report Malkovich’s behavior to HR himself, but without knowing if HR would take the matter seriously or if there would be any sort of blowback on Lewis or himself, he couldn’t risk it. He needed an ally with more power in the SHIELD hierarchy or a source of information that could help him understand SHIELD’s internal political. Damn. He used to be good at this kind of thing.

Chapter Text

‘I drink my Whiskey ne-eat. My coffee black and my bed at three..’ Hozier warbled from Darcy’s speakers. Darcy shimmied slowly as she plopped cookie dough onto baking sheets. She had a department budget meeting tomorrow and it would go much  easier if everyone were sweetened up a bit. If there were any leftovers, she would take them up to the agent’s bullpen as an apology for interrupting the sparring session last week. Not that she really needed to apologize. How many people did they really need Daniels to beat up in one afternoon?

It's fine. Nobody died. Nobody so much as broke a finger. Particularly not Daniels.

According to the mission roster and the reports submitted by Rumlow’s team, their last mission had been a milk run, no issues or injuries reported. Not that she was checking up on Daniels. Not that he needed it anyway! Yesterday she had seen him in the cafeteria getting invited to eat with a group of elite agents. Although Daniels hadn’t looked eager to make friends, he had spoken a few times and attentively nodded along with the conversation. Darcy definitely hadn’t been watching him while pretending to watch cat videos on her phone. Definitely not.

She definitely hadn’t admired the fact that his jacket had been a chocolate brown corduroy that looked soft enough to pet. Definitely hadn’t admired the way it highlighted the brown of his eyes. Definitely hadn't watched his hands and thought about how strong they were. Definitely hadn’t watched one of his hands scrub over his well-trimmed mustache and wondered what it would feel like against her skin… Definitely not!

Darcy took a large gulp of water and made herself cough. Oh, who gave a fuck? The man had looked good enough to eat! She busied herself with taking a round of baking sheets covered in cookies out of the oven and replacing them with another set. So it turns out that the cranky cowboy can really throw a punch and look delicious doing it. It has nothing to do with me! And he doesn’t need my help loosening up and making friends. All he needed to do was show off a bit.

Except that it hadn’t been showing off. He could have been a lot rougher with his opponents, but he had taken them down quickly and with minimal damage. Darcy couldn’t fight for shit, but after years of watching her friends spar (or fight for their lives) she could tell that Daniels was an extremely competent fighter who was well above the average SHIELD agent. It hadn’t been showing off, just a frank demonstration of his capabilities that people were now responding to. That Darcy was responding to.

Noooo. Competent people are my kryptonite! Which is stupid, because there are plenty of attractive, competent people in this city! You do not need to be thirsting after a grumpy, sexy, potentially damaged, definitely dangerous cowboy that you know virtually nothing about. Snap out of it!

She cranked her music up and loudly serenaded the steaming cookies as she flipped them off the trays and onto cooling racks. Darcy wasn’t going to spend her lovely cookie-scented evening thinking of hot men.

Someone knocked at the door. Darcy tensed. She wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Just a minute!” She called. She tugged off the floury apron she wore to protect her cozy hand knit sweater. Going over to the door, she snatched the taser hanging on its usual hook and flipped up the peephole cover. She caught a flash of red. She screeched and flung open the door.

“NAT! You’re back!” Natasha Romanov, one of world’s deadliest spies, smiled. The Black Widow was around Darcy’s height but built to much slimmer and more muscular lines. Her deep red hair was currently in a shoulder length bob that looked sleek and sophisticated. She wore leggings and a leather jacket over a soft sweatshirt. Fresh off the plane.

“Good evening. Do I smell cookies?” Darcy laughed, flung the taser back on its hook, and caught the other woman’s wrist, pulling her inside. She didn’t let go until she had swung her friend into a tight hug.

“Of course there are cookies! Aren’t there always? When did you get back? You were gone for almost a month!” Nat hugged Darcy and gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

“We landed an hour ago. Things in Macau were more complicated than the initial briefings suggested, but Clint and I are back now.” Darcy released her friend to give her a once over.

“And you look like you’re in once piece. Clint too?”

“He had a rather impressive black eye a few days ago, but otherwise he is fine.”

“You, Nat?” Darcy asked softly as she drew the Widow over to her small breakfast bar that served as her dining space. “Are you fine?” Nat’s smile softened at the concern.

“Yes, Milaya, I am well.”

“Good. Sit down. I’ll make some tea and fill you in on all the SHIELD and Avengers gossip that you’ve missed.”

“Cookies too?” The Widow opened her eyes wide in a pleading look. If you had no idea who she was, you might have mistaken her for a vulnerable woman in need of help, but Darcy did know. The Black Widow did not need to plead for anything. The ridiculousness of the legendary spy attempting puppy dog eyes at her made Darcy cackle as she cleared a space on the stovetop for the kettle.

“I thought that went without saying. Now put that creepy look away!”

“Creepy..” muttered Nat bemusedly. She allowed her face to relax into a neutral expression, but all too soon she was smiling in response to Darcy’s chatter. Plimmons in Legal was now dating Trainee Agent Bailey. Quay from Acounting was still in a feud with all of strike team Gamma for their flagrantly ridiculous expense reports from last quarter. Handler D’Orsay had gone too far during an office prank war and now the Records department was requiring him to submit every piece of paperwork by physically walking down and handing it to them. Tea, fresh cookies, and a good catchup with Darcy had Natasha feeling contented and full.

Just as important was what neither woman did say. Darcy didn’t ask her what the mission had been. Nat didn’t say how many people she’d killed in the past month.

Darcy did ask if she’d eaten at any good restaurants, found time to do any shopping, beat Clint at poker while on stakeouts. Nat spoke freely. Darcy was one of the few people Natasha felt comfortable with. It wasn’t just that Nat liked the funny, creative person who gesticulated wildly with a spatula while recounting a prank gone horribly wrong, Nat trusted Darcy. It was good to be back in the city that contained most of the people she trusted her life.

Natasha didn’t leave until 11:30, when all the tea was drunk, several helpings of fresh chocolate chip cookies had been consumed, and all of the dishes washed. Before leaving, Nat produced a small box from her coat pocket and presented it to Darcy. Darcy grinned. Nat was an excellent gift-giver. She popped the lid off and found a selection of locally sourced spices in tiny glass bottles.

“I thought you might like to try some savory baking this winter.” Darcy hugged her friend and cooed over the thoughtful gift. It was a great present, but it was also very like Nat to get her something that was also slightly self-serving. Whenever Darcy did baking experiments, the Avengers were usually her willing guinea pigs. The idea of what Nat would look like as a guinea pig made Darcy chuckle as she locked the door behind the Black Widow and got ready for bed. She went to sleep with no more nagging thoughts about hot cowboys.

Chapter Text

Jack couldn’t be sure if it was his conversation with Rumlow or if it was his sudden popularity as a sparring partner that was responsible for being asked to join this mission. Usually SHIELD created teams of trainee agents, ordinary agents like him, and one or two senior agents as team lead, with specialists getting thrown in on as needed basis. Teams would work together for months or even years without core members changing. Less commonly, teams could invite agents, senior agents, or specialist to join them on missions where they needed some additional manpower or as a prelude to a reassignment.

Jack wasn’t sure how he had ended up assigned to Team Theta. The paperwork had shown up in his inbox with the mission precis and signatures from Rumlow and Theta team authorizing the temporary assignment. He didn’t recall anyone asking him. Do you ask a weapon’s permission before using it?

 Did it really matter? He didn’t have strong ties to Team Sierra. After last week he had reservations about working with them. Team Theta could be a better fit, but he doubted it. Theta had one senior agent (Ramos), two mid-levels (Pak and Bekele), and two trainees (Connors and Himura). They were a lighter and more junior team than Sierra. Jack was technically classified as a mid-level agent. With this team he was unlikely to see close, heavy action, which was where he thrived.

His own ranking within SHIELD was one more thing that stuck in his craw. He had been one of Statesmen’s top agents before his death, and he would pit any Statesmen field agent against a SHIELD senior or specialist agent. It was waste of resources to have him running around doing grunt work. Interestin’. I would have thought my pride was too dead to care. Seems that I was wrong.

The pre-mission briefings had gone well. The higher-ups were hopeful that this mission would be a relatively simple retrieval of intel.

They were wrong.

Everything started out okay. Connors and Pak were to wait outside the building to secure their exit and provide a speedy getaway if needed. Bekele was going to make a distraction. Ramos, Himura, and Jack would infiltrate the building, retrieve the intel from the secure databanks, and get out. They made it to the third floor thanks to Bekele screaming in the lobby about being wrongfully fired. The security personnel were attempting to throw him out, which would have been easier if Bekele hadn’t dumped a barrel of vegetable oil all over the floor (resulting in some hilarious tumbles) and threatened to light everything on fire.

The first bump in the road was when Ramos struggled to make it past the digital security measures. “Shit. Our intel was wrong about the encryption we needed!” Part of the groundwork for the mission had been researching the type of data security the company used and stealing the necessary authentication from network administrators.

“What’s wrong, Bekele?” Demanded Sahani, their handler at SHIELD HQ.

“This guy had access to most stuff, but the data package we need is locked behind a separate firewall.”

“Can you work around it?” Ramos grimaced. One of the reasons Theta team had been chosen was that several members had better tech backgrounds than the average agent.

“Maybe if I had a couple of hours, I could find a loophole. Himura, switch with me and see if you can do anything.” Ramos went to guard the door while Himura began toying with the systems.

“I don’t mean to rush, but Bekele’s diversion is running out of steam. I’ve diverted the cops, but the security guards are starting to wonder where they are.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not a system I’m familiar with. Is there someone at HQ who would be faster?”

“Yeah,” sighed Sahani. “I know someone who can hack that system, no question. I’ll get her up here. Ramos, can you get me remote access? Man, she is going to give me so much crap for this!”  Ramos and Himura switched again while Jack gritted his teeth. It was a tense minute that stretched into eternity. The back of Jack’s neck itched with phantom eyes.

“Hello, hello, welcome to the show! Step aside, Agent Ramos, give a girl room to work.” The voice over the coms was female and full of pep. Ramos took his hands off the mouse, ceding control to the new operator. Jack watched with interest as screens began flashing past, lines of code scrawled, authorization windows popped up and were shot down. The new person was much faster than Ramos or Himura.

“Shit sticks,” she muttered. “I was afraid of that.” Movement on the screens paused. “Okay boss, I can do this fast and loud or slow and silent. Pick your poison.”

It was at that second that the second bump in the road made itself known.

“Bekele is down!” reported Sahani. “New security showed up out of nowhere and shot him.” There was a yelp from the door as it was forced open, throwing Himura into a heap against the wall. Himura’s head made an audible crack as it hit. Jack was already firing at the attackers as they came through the door. The first one went down, but the second dodged back behind the wall.

“Fuck! Quiet is out, do it fast!” ordered Ramos. “Bekele, what’s your status?” Sahani regrouped the com channels. The computer screens resumed their dizzying displays.

“I’m hit,” panted Bekele. “Lucky this fancy lobby’s made of marble. I’ve got some cover behind a column, but they’re going to run out of patience and rush me soon.”

“I can come in and get him,” offered Pak.

“No, we need less bodies in this building, not more. Stay with Connors and be ready to cover our retreat. Bekele, do you have an exit or do we need to collect you?”

“There’s a nice big window here. As long as it’s not bulletproof I can try to make a hole.”

“Do it,” Ramos ordered as a bullet whizzed past his ear. The gunman at the door had leaned out to take a shot. Jack returned fire. He heard a satisfying grunt of pain. One of his shots connected. Alarms began to sound as Bekele cursed paranoid people with too-thick window materials. Lights on the databanks began to change colors. Himura was still down. “How’s it coming with the intel?”

“Well, they’ll certainly know I’ve been in here. I need another minute to download the data. How badly do you want me to fuck them? Pipe bomb or nuclear?” The voice was still too chipper, like it was all a big game. It almost sounded familiar, though Jack couldn’t place it.

“There’s a difference?” shouted Ramos as he executed a roll that took him to Himura’s side. Jack laid down heavy cover fire.

“Oh yes,” snickered the woman. “Do we care if they know we were successful in retrieving the data? Do we care if they’re able to tell what exactly we took? If so, I’ll nuke their systems to Chernobyl.” The alarms overhead cut off and a strange thunk echoed through the hall. Jack winced as a bullet grazed his bicep. He dodged another spray of fire as Ramos got Himura in a fireman’s carry. “I’ve taken their security system completely offline and disengaged all electronic locks. Agent Bekele, you can waltz out the door anytime now.”

“Go, Bekele. Lewis, will it take you longer to nuke everything? We don’t want them to know what we were after.” Jack’s brain wanted to refuse the new information. It couldn’t be. Not her again.

“I’ve got the intel shunted to jump drive that you used to get me remote access. Grab it and bug out. I’ll make sure there’s no electronic trace of us, but you don’t want to be in that room in two minutes. Going nuclear now,” reported Darcy Lewis. The databank lights began flashing red. There was a sudden silence as cooling fans stopped dead. The flashing got faster and something began to whine. The smell of burning plastic suffused the air.

“Daniels, grab the drive and let’s go!” Jack snapped into action. Finally. This was what he was good for. Ignore the techno babble, ignore the enigma of Darcy Fucking Lewis, ignore the burn of the bullet graze in his shoulder, ignore it all and MOVE.

He ran forward and snatched the small remote drive from the computer terminal, stuffed it into his pocket, and rolled to one side as bullets riddled the floor. He came up just inside the door and the next time a body poked around the door to fire Jack shot it. A scream and the body fell away. Jack came through the door like a tornado. Other security guys had arrived while they were downloading the data, but they fell quickly until Jack’s surging advance.

“Clear,” he called. Ramos followed him into the hall with Himura over his shoulder. Smoke began to issue from the room.

“Sahani, give me options,” Ramos commanded.

“You can go out the way you came, through the lobby. Bekele is clear. There are fire exits to the street at the bottom of the east and west stairs. If you can make it to the roof, you could jump down and across to the neighboring building.”

“Negative on the roof. Himura is still unconscious. How heavily guarded is the lobby?”

“Uknown, sir. When Bekele was there it was a team of six. He got two, but they could have reinforcements by now. We can’t see. We were piggy-backing off their security feed, so we lost video when Lewis took down their system. With all the commotion, they’re likely to have guards on all the exits now. No matter which way you go, you’ll have to shoot your way out.”

“Daniels, thoughts?” Jack took a moment to consider.

“Stairs. Lobby’s too hot and the footing will be dangerous thanks to Bekele’s oil. Stairs are close quarters fighting with a lot of potential for ricochet. You follow me, carrying Himura, staying a floor behind me as I clear.” He sensed something and raised his guns.

 Ramos’ eyes went wide as Daniels aimed a gun at him, and he experienced a flicker of fear as eyes so dark they appeared black looked straight through him. Ramos’ stomach dropped as, for a split second, he stared down the barrel of Daniel’s revolver. He heard the shot before his eyes could register what had happened. He heard a body drop in the hallway behind him.

“Let’s go before they send more reinforcements up here to box us in.”

“Right. You take point then, Daniels.” Ramos swallowed past the knot of fear. As they passed the body in the hall he saw the bullet hole in the center of the man’s forehead.

Darcy had been eating a late lunch when an assistant ran into the cafeteria and physically dragged her out. The assistant caught her up on a mission going pear shaped as she was hustled up to the command area. It wasn’t the first time SHIELD had asked her to use her computer skills for things outside of scope of a regular lab manager’s job. Sahani beckoned frantically from his computer station. She slotted herself into a chair beside him. It was pizza day. Sahani owed her big for this, but it wasn’t the field agents’ fault. No need to make a bad situation worse by being grumpy.

“Hello, hello, welcome to the show! Step aside, Agent Ramos, give a girl room to work.” Darcy unleashed a wolfish smile as screens of information began flying past. She fell into a world of delicate strings of puzzles and problems that only she could untangle. These days she mostly used her computer skills to crunch data and unlock friend’s computers. It was fun to have a real challenge at her fingertips.

“Shit sticks! I was afraid of that.” While Darcy would like to spend a couple of hours romancing this system, maybe take it out to dinner and a movie, the agents didn’t have that kind of time. She had run into a wall too sturdy for her to burrow under. “Okay boss, I can do this fast and loud or slow and silent. Pick your poison.”

Then Agent Bekele was shot. Darcy liked Bekele. A short man with an impeccable goatee and a love of cheesy competition shows, she would not like to see him die. Even if Agent Ramos hadn’t ordered it, Darcy would have thrown stealth out the window in her rush to rip apart the building’s security systems like so much tissue paper. The faster her fingers flew the sooner those agents could get the hell out. Agents, she now realized, including Agent Daniels.

“How badly do you want me to fuck them? Pipe bomb or nuclear?”  She hoped he picked nuclear.

“There’s a difference?” Darcy glanced over to Sahani’ screens. Every member of the team wore a pinhole camera on their front. As Ramos spoke his camera whirled sickeningly, making her glad she hadn’t finished her pizza.

“Oh yes. Do we care if they know we were successful in retrieving the data? Do we care if they’re able to tell what exactly we took? If so, I’ll nuke their systems to Chernobyl.” Please pick Chernobyl. Please. For once I want to get to do some fucking damage! It was always her friends who got to do badass shit and beat the crap out of people. While she waited for Ramos to make the call she worked to disable the annoying overhead alarms. Agents Himura and Bekele were hurt. It would be slightly easier for the team to escape if there were no longer any locked doors or security cameras informing on their movements.

 “I’ve taken their security system completely offline and disengaged all electronic locks. Agent Bekele, you can waltz out the door anytime now.”

“Go, Bekele. Lewis, will it take you longer to nuke everything? We don’t want them to know what we were after.” Darcy tried not to dance in her seat. Chernobyl it was!

“I’ve got the intel shunted to jump drive that you used to get me remote access. Grab it and bug out. I’ll make sure there’s no electronic trace of us, but you don’t want to be in that room in two minutes. Going nuclear now.” She sent all of the systems into a complete overload, demanding that they work beyond their capacity while disabling the cooling systems. She sent the computer equivalent of a dozen screaming Hulks in to smash up their web infrastructures and crash any networked devices. Darcy valiantly resisted the urge to sing “burn baby burn”. Tony and some of the other Avengers might have appreciated it, but SHIELD tended to have sticks up their butts about chatter on the comms.

“Daniels, grab the drive and let’s go!” Darcy watched through Agent Ramos’ cam as Daniels grabbed the jump drive with the intel, did some cool ninja rolls, then shot the guy who was poking through the door to shoot at them. Ramos’ cam didn’t capture Agent Whisky taking out the three other men after he went through the doorway, and he moved so fast that Darcy could barely follow the feed from his cam as he had shot one man point blank, wacked another in the throat to distract him, dodged under the gun the third man had on him before shooting him center-mass, and then finished off throat guy.  All in under 30 seconds with guns in held both hands Black Widow style.

 Her part in this was technically done. She didn’t have to stay to watch. She could have made some excuse about wanting to see the mission through and make sure the agents got away safely, but the truth was that Darcy wanted to see. She wanted to know.

“Clear,” Daniels called to Ramos, who came out of the computer room carrying Himura.

“Sahani, give me options.”  Darcy listened to the planning, wondering what Nat or Clint would choose in this situation. Clint always took the roof, but then he almost always carried rappelling gear and rope for emergency ziplining.

“Daniels, thoughts?”  Ramos had turned his body towards Daniels. His suit still looked unfairly neat for someone who’d been in the middle of a firefight. He had paused to weigh the options, but his face remained still and focused, eyes hard, and body taut with energy.

“Stairs. Lobby’s too hot and the footing will be dangerous thanks to Bekele’s oil. Stairs are close quarters fighting with a lot of potential for ricochet. You follow me, carrying Himura, staying a floor behind me as I clear.”

Then Daniels raised his left gun and pointed it straight at Ramos. His face was the same impossibly still mask. For a moment Darcy thought he was going to shoot Ramos. Death was in Daniels’ face, unstoppable and implacable, as he shot the man who had just turned the corner to attack Ramos’ back. Ramos evidently shared Darcy’s fear because he released a sharp gasp and spun unsteadily to look at the fresh body on the floor.

“Let’s go before they send more reinforcements up here to box us in.” Darcy exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Right. You take point then, Daniels.”  

They made it to the stairs without encountering anyone else. Daniels eased open the door and the agents stopped to listen.

“People on the upper floors to seal off the roof. I can’t tell how many are below us. We’ll have to move fast,” Daniels whispered to Ramos. Ramos gave him a sharp nod and they entered the stairwell. Daniels led the way down, sticking close to the walls, silent as a ghost. Ramos’ breath echoed softly as he hauled Himura along.

A person emerged from the second-floor entrance with a bang. Daniels leaped down the intervening section of stairs, his feet colliding with the person’s chest, sending them flying back against the open door with a horrible crack. Another sharp crack from Agent Daniels’ gun ended any resistance. Shouts echoed through the stairs and a bullet hit the railing near Himura’s dangling leg. More shots made the stairwell ring with manmade thunder. 

Daniels rushed down the stairs, half flying half falling as he leaned on one arm in a tumbling slide around the corners. His cam only caught flashes of chaos as he descended on the security team guarding the exit. One guard he shot on the way down. Another received Daniels’ full weight in a body slam that knocked him into the guard behind him. Daniels shot both men where they lay on the concrete floor. The remaining guards shot at him, and Darcy could only see muzzle flashes bloom in front of Daniels. If he was hit, it did not slow him. He rolled and grabbed at one man’s leg, throwing him back. He swirled up, wrapping his arm around the shooting arm of the last man standing, using him to shoot the off-balance man before Daniels’ other hand came up and shot him under the chin.

Ramos hurried down the last few stairs, trying not to trip on the bodies left in Daniel’s wake or slide in the pools of blood beginning to form. His cam showed Daniels, face upturned to wait for him, speckled with blood. Darcy couldn’t tell if any of it was his. Daniels’ face was still in its battle mask. Darcy knew that unless the man was dying he wouldn’t show a flicker of pain, perhaps not even then.

Daniels waited until Ramos was beside him before pushing out the fire door. Sahani had had the other agents pick up Bekele and then race around to wait in the alley. The door to the white panel van with a ubiquitous plumbers logo slid open. Ramos deposited Himura into the waiting hands while Daniels stood with his guns covering the door. Only after Ramos was also in the van did he climb inside and say “go” as calmly as if they had just been taking a walk on the beach.

The van tore through New Jersey streets. Daniels pulled the drive out of his pocket and handed it to Ramos. Connors was putting a pressure dressing on Bekele’s leg. Bekele patted the man’s shoulder gratefully.

“Are either of you hurt?” Connors waved packets of sterile bandages from the med kit. Agent Ramos shook his head.

“Barely a scratch. Daniels?” Connors had already scooted around Bekele and was reaching towards Daniels. Darcy saw Daniels’ shoulders twitch. She inhaled sharply. Someone ought to tell Connors that sometimes hurt agents did not like being touched by strangers. Daniels went very still, but his eyes moved to Connors’ outstretched hands that were reaching for a bloodstained tear in his sleeve.

“It’s fine,” he rasped flatly.

“No sir, I think you got clipped here. Some of this blood is definitely yours!” Daniels drew back as far as he could in the limited space of the van.

“I said, it’s fine.” His voice was harsher, none of the liquid tones of his accent. Hidden pain grated across Darcy’s ears. She shouldn’t. Her part was done. The only reason she hadn’t been turfed out was that Sahani was too distracted to care.

“Hey Connors, anyone ever tell you not to go poking bears?”

“Wha-“

“Good way to get bit, ya’ know?” Sahani turned to glare at Darcy. Darcy just gave him an ingenuous smile. Thankfully, Bekele got it and began asking about their ETA to SHIELD Medical. Darcy watched Agent Daniels settle himself as far from the other agents as possible, the tension never leaving his posture.

Chapter Text

When Sahani headed to the elevator to greet the team, Darcy went too.

“You can head off now, Darcy. Thanks for the help today.” Darcy shrugged and punched the button for the garage.

“Of course. You know I love a fun emergency hack.” Sahani grinned, his brown eyes sparkling.

“I do. Remember last year with the Greece mission?”

“Yup. You and Osorio owed me big for that one!”

“What’s today going to cost me?” Darcy paused, watching the floor numbers tick down.

“Hmm. I think a little quid pro quo is in order. I got you some intel, I want some intel.” Sahani winced.

“Darcy, you know I can’t tell you what that stuff we got today was…” Darcy snorted.

“Puh-leese! You know darn well I could find out what today was for in under five minutes if I really wanted to!” Sahani winced again. Yes, sometimes SHIELD liked to forget that while Darcy worked for them, she hadn’t drunk the Koolaid. She didn’t adhere to their beliefs about security (many of which she found too authoritarian and big-brother-ish), and she certainly didn’t follow their rules. Hacking SHIELD’s systems wouldn’t be the hardest thing, but she was smart enough not to poke the hornet’s nest over little things, which was why she hadn’t gone into the classified personnel files to find the information she wanted.

“Chill, Rajesh. I mean informal intel. I was wondering about that guy, Daniels.” Sahani relaxed fractionally.

“Him? He’s not a regular member of Team Theta. They brought him into this one because they wanted a close quarters combat expert in case things got nasty. Good thing they did, yes?”

“Close quarters combat expert… Is that how he’s classified?” SHIELD files didn’t just list skills like a resume, they also sorted agents into types for easy mission assignment. Some classifications were common martial arts experts, projectile weapon users, pursuit specialists, etc.

They arrived in the garage and waved at the waiting medical teams that were ready to cart away the injured agents.

“It was for this. But he does have some others listed on his records.” Darcy quirked an eyebrow at the thin man, invitation implicit. “Fine. He’s also listed as being a skilled infiltrator, excellent evasive driver, decent pilot, and field qualified to carry an unholy number of different weapons.” Darcy nodded. Those were fairly standard grab-bag skills of any high-level agent. Pilot was a bit of a surprise. Darcy couldn’t see the dapper cowboy flying a plane or jet. Former military maybe? Those aren’t unusual here.

Skilled infiltrator was the one that really threw her. Infiltrators were agents that could go undercover for long periods of time. SHIELD used infiltrators to worm their way into organized criminal outfits or places like embassies. Natasha, before she became a famous Avenger, was considered one of the best infiltrators SHIELD had. Infiltrators tended to be chameleons: highly skilled at blending into whatever social environment they found themselves in. Darcy’s personal experience with Agent Daniels was the opposite; he held himself apart from everyone. He seemed too rigid, too distinctive to be an infiltrator. But if it was listed on his SHIELD record…

The plumbers van that was not a plumbers van entered the garage and came to an orderly stop right in front of the medical team.

“We’re not even yet, Raj, but I’ll save it for another time.” Sahani sighed and headed over to check on his team. Darcy dawdled in his wake. The medical team extracted Bekele from the van, and (over his protests) loaded him onto the gurney. It made Darcy smile as she listened to him try to tell the professionals that he didn’t need to be carted about like an invalid. When she saw an opening she darted in to flick his shoulder.

“What? Oh! Darcy! Thanks for the help with the door. Who the hell uses shatterproof glass in their lobby?”

“People with stuff worth stealing. Now behave for the medicos so they’ll let us watch Wipeout in the recovery room!” Bekele grinned and allowed himself to be rolled towards the elevator.

“I’ve had enough action today. I found this great house renovation show we should try!”

“Sounds good. Save me some of the good jello!” Darcy called after him as the elevator doors shut. The other members of Team Theta had clambered out of the van and were talking to Sahani. Connors was giving a dramatic account of Bekele’s escape from the lobby under a hail of bullets. She scrutinized the team. Connors and Pak had been in the van the whole time and were fine. A second gurney team had loaded up Agent Himura, but she heard them say it looked like he’d just gotten slammed hard and would possibly be concussed when he came around. Agent Ramos looked a little scuffed up but was mostly unhurt. Agent Daniels…was clearly not.

Today’s suit was a plain black in a non-western style and he wasn’t wearing his hat. Cowboy hats were not helpful when you were trying to blend into a corporate environment. The black suit provided good if boring camouflage, but the stark white shirt gave his condition away. The white was spotted liberally with red. His face was too. Little rubies speckled the tanned skin and made Darcy’s stomach squirm with worry. Daniels stood a little back from the others and though he appeared focused on the conversation his eyes looked vacant. Darcy drew closer. The muscles of his neck and shoulders were tensed. It was one of the tells she had learned to look for in her hospital-averse Avenger friends. Stubborn! Darcy huffed inwardly.

She circled around the knot of agents to stand within reach of Agent Daniels. He did not appear to notice her. Darcy supposed she didn’t rate as much of a threat as any of the agents standing a few feet away. She debated the best approach. Did he even realize she was here? She examined him more closely, cataloging any signs of injury. There was the tear in his sleeve that Connors had mentioned in the car. No obvious scratches or bruises on face, so most of that blood probably wasn’t his. On his right side, there was a patch of suit that was darker than the rest and it shone wetly in the garage’s overhead lights. Darcy shifted to get a better look, stepping between Daniels and the other agents. Yeah, there was a bloodstain creeping across the white of his shirt.

Darcy didn’t know if it was her movement, proximity, or getting between Daniels and the others, but he inhaled sharply through his nose and tilted his head to look down at her. She glared at the wet fabric and crossed her arms, remembering her own rebuke to Connors about poking injured agents.

“What are you doing here?” Darcy jumped and looked up at him. His eyes met hers and she felt a momentary sense of relief that he wasn’t wearing that harsh expression he had worn when he had shot those men. That expression probably would have caused poor Erin from R&D to run screaming from the building, and if Darcy had had to deal with it now she might have done the same. At the moment, his face appeared neutral, but she spotted tiny lines of tension around his mouth and eyes. Daniels was hurting, but he seemed determined not to let anyone see it. Darcy felt her own mouth tighten. Seriously, what had the man been through that he wouldn’t expose his vulnerability to receive medical attention? Her crossed arms shifted into more of hug to herself. He was hurting and Darcy’s first instinct when her friends were hurt was to offer a hug. Not that Daniels was her friend. It was just an instinctive reaction. That was all.

“Checking on you and Bekele, obviously.” Darcy decided honesty was the best policy when dealing with keyed-up paranoid agents fresh from the field. Daniels tilted his head at her in one of his trademarked assessing looks, but his movement was slow, ginger with pain.

“Why?” He asked in long drawl as though talking to someone without all their marbles. It pissed Darcy off. She put her hands on her hips.

“Because Bekele’s a buddy of mine and he just got shot. And for some reason I seem to care about you as well,” she snapped. Her voice had risen, drawing the attention of the other agents.

Jack stared down at Darcy Lewis. Here she was again. Popping up when he least expected her. Today she wore a red beanie hat crammed down over her dark waves, and a black button-down shirt that appeared professional but actually had a patten of tiny cartoon skulls and daggers on it. Cute. The thought was so unexpected that it startled him. Was he losing it? And why was she checking on him? So he asked her why, and Lewis’ answer was even more startling.

“For some reason I seem to care about you as well!” Her hands were on her hips, and he remembered sliding his own hands there to pick her up in the gym. Jack had the insane urge to put his hands there again. He blinked hard and his mouth fell open slightly as he registered what she had just said to him. She cared? About him? His head spun like the world had just tilted out of its regular alignment. It couldn’t be from blood loss; he hadn’t lost that much yet.

“Oh for Frigga’s sake! Quit staring at me like I’m announcing that the Earth is flat!” She huffed out an angry breath before softening. The remaining members of Team Theta had all turned to listen. “Call me crazy if you like, as long as you do it on the way to medical. Honestly, you stand there bleeding out, but somehow I’m the weird one here? You agents are all too stubborn for your own good!” Jack didn’t even know how to respond to that. His brain kept feeding him little bits of information, like how she was standing close enough that he smelled that faint trace of something floral, or how her pale cheeks were now slightly flushed-

“Daniels! Where were you hit?” Agent Ramos barked. Jack snapped his head up to look at the team leader.

“It’s fine,” he said automatically. It had become a rote response when anyone asked about his condition. After all the time he had spent in sterile white rooms while in stasis and in recovery, medical areas sent crawling sensations over his skin. It would have been so easy for Statesmen not to revive him. It would have been just as easy in the months following for someone to decide that they had made a mistake and take steps to reverse it. When he got injured now, he dealt with it himself. Minor stuff was easy enough to attend to using the well-stocked medical kits he kept at his desk and in his apartment. If he had injuries he couldn’t deal with, like the awkwardly located knife wound on his back that he had picked up on one of his early SHIELD field missions, he bandaged and concealed it as best he could until he could get to one of several doctors he knew that would keep their mouths shut and stitch him up in exchange for hard cash.

 It had worked so far in keeping him out of SHIELD medical and away from the dubious mercy of strangers. He had planned to do the same thing today; bandage and clean himself up in a bathroom, change into one of the spare outfits he kept here so that no one would see the blood, and stick out the rest of the day by popping pain pills until he could go home and deal with it privately. There was no reason why his strategy shouldn’t have worked as it had before.

No reason, except for Darcy Fucking Lewis.

“I didn’t ask you if you were fine, I asked where you were hit.” Ramos marched over and jerked aside the front panel of Jack’s suit jacket. Jack only just stopped himself from responding aggressively. Lewis must have seen something because she raised her eyebrows and took a step back. Smart.

Lewis was smart, oddly perceptive, good with people, and kept turning up when he least expected her. She was also pretty when she blushed.

“Fuck. Medical now! Let’s go!” Ramos pointed to the elevator. Jack let out a sigh and dropped some of the tension he had been holding. There was no point in pretending it didn’t hurt when everyone could clearly see the large furrow in his skin left behind by a bullet. He sagged slightly and let his hand come up to press the material of his jacket over the wound. A chance shot in the stairwell had skimmed across the front left quadrant of his abdomen. It wasn’t even a through and through, but everyone still acted as though it were a serious injury, piling into the elevator expeditiously while asking him what had happened.

Jack thought it was pretty self-explanatory: he had been shot. So he ignored Connors and Pak chattering at him in favor of looking at Lewis. She stood by the elevator buttons with her arms crossed as they traveled upwards. Her arms framed her generous breasts and he had an urge to see if he could make the flush in her checks travel down to them. Her skin there would probably be extremely soft and very pale, at least until he sucked tiny marks into it. The idea jolted him. What in the hell was he thinking? He was at work, he couldn’t afford to be thinking about crap like big tits, and pretty blushes, and what her hair would feel like as he ran his hands through it… FUCK! Why was he thinking about this now? Why her?

Jack kept his life highly compartmentalized these days. That was safest. Work was work. If he needed to relax and unwind, he did it at home. If he needed to fuck, he went to a bar and found someone. No last names, no phone numbers, and no repeats. When he was a lot younger, he had made dumb mistakes like that: mixing work with pleasure. He had survived and learned not to. Turns out he wasn’t smart enough to avoid becoming friends with the people he worked with, relying on them, trusting them to have his back. Until they didn’t. Until a bullet in his brain had killed any thought that Statesmen was his family. Well he had survived that too. Only an idiot would repeat those mistakes here at SHIELD. Work was work. Fucking happened off the clock and with no one he would ever meet again. Friends and family? Closest thing he had to that these days was one of his neighbors who let him pet his dog and chat for a few minutes about the weather. He should not be thinking about Darcy Fucking Lewis. Too dangerous.

Thankfully, the elevator stopped at the medical center, and everyone filed out. Jack marched in stoically, determined to make this as quick as possible. Agent Ramos snagged a doctor immediately and dragged her and Jack to one of the examination tables in the main trauma area. Jack sat on the table and wrenched off his jacket as Ramos briefed the doc.

“Hello Agent Daniels, I’m Doctor Dixon. I believe we’ve met. When you joined SHIELD I handled some of your medical intake.” She snapped on a fresh pair of blue gloves. Jack hated the platisticky smell of the fresh nitrile, and the slight rustling squeaks made skitters go up his spine. He nodded a greeting to the doctor and unbuttoned his shirt. She began mopping up the blood that painted his torso so that she could see the wound.

“This will need stitches, Agent. Lie down please.” Jack obeyed, focusing only on the ceiling, not the faces of the others who were watching. He tucked his arm under his head so that it was out of the doctor’s way. Dixon was fast, Jack gave her credit for that. He wondered if Ramos had told her he was a flight risk. In the privacy of his mind he snorted in amusement. He tried to let his thoughts fly away at least but the pull of the needle kept forcing him back. Connors was hovering, watching the doctor work. Maybe he had wanted to go into the medical field at one point. Maybe he still would, the kid had his whole life ahead of him, unlike Jack. Jack wished he were anywhere else in the fucking world than laid out on this table.

Darcy had meant to see them all to the medical department and then go back to her actual job. She really had. Then Jack Daniels started stripping and any plans went out the window. Whoo mama. His shoulders were broad and well muscled through his chest, tapering to a narrower waist. His forearms had those standout veins and tendons that made Darcy’s stomach do loop-de-loops. His stomach was solid, but not the well defined six pack of the avid gym rat. Daniels’ muscles were earned through field use, not endless reps on a machine. It made him look softer, but no less strong. Darcy thought she preferred it. He was real, not manufactured or carefully curated.

He was also still covered in blood. Doctor Dixon was whipping through stitches at top speed. She could probably feel how tense Agent Daniels was. He truly did not want to be in Medical. Darcy bit her lip as she warred between ogling the man and watching the doctor work on his injuries. What had he been going to do if they hadn’t called him out on being injured? Bandage it up and hope for the best? That seemed too untidy for a man who was always so impecably dressed. Was it an aversion to all medical facilities or just the SHIELD facility? How did he deal with injuries normally? Was there a particular doctor here that he trusted? Should she try to find out if there was someone he would be more comfortable with?

He was clenching his jaw so tightly it was causing the tendons in his neck to jump. There were still spatters of blood on his face and neck. Not his. His opponents’. Instead of continuing to let her mind whirl like a hamster on a wheel, Darcy grabbed some alcohol wipes off of a nearby shelf. She approached Agent Daniels slowly and leaned over him to catch his eye.

“Hey,” she said softly. His eyes flicked to hers and he frowned. Darcy didn’t take it personally. Plenty of people were crabby when they were in pain. “You’ve still got some on your face. It’s bugging me.” She opened the packet, took out a wipe, and gently ran it over Agent Daniels’ cheek. His eyes went wide. She held the bloodied wipe up to show him. “See?” He didn’t respond. He didn’t relax, but he also didn’t tell her to knock it off, so she kept going, collecting little dabs of scarlet.

“Hi Darcy, didn’t realize you were here,” Doctor Dixon greeted her. “Is he one of yours?” Darcy flushed bright red and did her best not to meet the questioning eyes of Agent Daniels. She knew Leanna Dixon meant one of her various agents, superheroes, friends, etc. but her gut churned and face heated at the suggestion.

“No,” Darcy remarked vaguely. Honestly! The idea that Agent Daniels was hers in any capacity was… ridiculous? Right? They weren’t friends. They barely knew each other. Darcy just didn’t like the thought of him hurting, that was all. It was human compassion!

“How’s Arthur doing?” She asked to distract the doctor.

“Oh he’s great! He’s made some new friends, and his diet is going really well.”

“Arthur is Doctor Dixon’s very overweight black lab”, Darcy explained to Daniels. He let a small huff of air, and Darcy realized he hadn’t been breathing much at all. She lowered her voice in mock conspiratorial tone. “He’s totally Dixon’s spoiled baby. Dog eats better than I do!” Daniels made a little sound of amusement and Darcy took it as a win. Dixon taped a bandage in place over her stitching.

“Yes, Arthur is my darling baby boy. I will accept no criticism from a woman with no children or pets. Alright, stomach is done. Where else?”

“His arm,” Darcy answered quickly before Agent Daniels could say something stupid like ‘it’s fine’. Again, she heard a slight huff, but she thought this one was probably a sign of annoyance. She leaned back to toss the bloodied wipe in the trash.

“Okay Agent, could you sit up for me.” Daniels sat up carefully on the side of the table. “Good. Not as deep or long. No stitches necessary.” She got to work cleaning the gash on his bicep. Darcy approached again, armed with a fresh wipe. Daniels was watching the doctor work. Darcy reached out without thinking and lifted his chin.

“Chin up, Agent, you’ve got some blood spatter on your neck.” He didn’t resist and even turned to look at her. Darcy tried to focus only on getting him cleaned up but touching him had been a mistake. His skin was warm, and his chin was just beginning to bristle with 5 o’clock shadow. Darcy’s brain began doing crazy hamster wheel impressions again and she had to focus very had on keeping her breathing even. She wanted to run her fingertips along his jawline and the lines decorating his face. From this distance she could see so much detail. He had a tiny dimpled scar in the center of his forehead. It made her want to press her lips there. She refused to meet gaze until the very end, only looking into his eyes when she had finished cleaning. That was also a mistake. His eyes were a rich deep chocolate. His face wasn’t in a battle mask, or his neutral blank look, but something more soft. His lips were parted just a little like he was confused. No shark eyes to be found here, just warm chocolate. Darcy slid her hands away from his face before she did something stupid.

“All clean.” She had meant to sound chirpy and upbeat, but instead the words came out soft and breathy. Goddammit! You are so not doing this, Darcy! Don’t you dare! She turned away to throw out the wipe and return the box to the shelf. A large hand closed around her wrist, and she turned back in surprise.

“Thank you,” Agent Daniels said, giving her a slight nod. Even without the cowboy hat it still had a solemn air. Darcy felt more than a little wobbly, and her face had to be fire engine red. She clapped her hands together to ground herself as she spun to face the remaining members of Team Theta.

“Okie-dokie! Tech crisis conquered and nobody died! Good game everybody! Now I have to get back to my real job. Raj, I’ll talk to you later about squaring up. Tell Bekele I’ll check in on him before I go home. Bye, guys!” She fled.

Doctor Dixon taped off the bandage on Jack’s arm. “Are you sure you’re not one of hers?”

“One of her what?” Jack’s brain was too full of the flutter of gentle fingers stroking his chin to think properly. Dixon waved ineffectually.

“You know! Darcy’s people!” As though that explained a damn thing.

“He isn’t.” Sahani took pity on him. “He can’t be. They don’t even know each other. Right?” Somehow that statement felt inadequate to Jack. They didn’t know each other well per se, but they kept running into each other. She seemed better equipped to deal with him than most.

“Not really, no,” he answered lamely. He didn’t know how else to answer. “Is anyone ever going to explain that to me?”

“Huh?”

“Lewis!” Daniels gestured at the door she had just left through. “What’s her deal?”

“She’s single,” Doctor Dixon remarked as she tidied away her tools.

“Not what I meant,” he ground out. “I thought she was a lab manager. What was she doing on the comms?”

“Saving our asses?” Offered Ramos. Sahani took the question more seriously.

“Darcy has some skills that come in handy during the weirdest times. Hacking is one of them. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to pull her in during an emergency.” Jack mulled that over as he pulled on his ruined shirt for the trip up to his desk. Yet another piece of the very odd puzzle of Darcy Lewis. The more he finds, the more questions he has.

Chapter Text

Tony, you’re so full of shit!”

“No I swear, I danced with her in the club in 1992!”

The elevator doors opened onto a loud argument between Clint and Tony. The normalcy of the two teammates bickering made Darcy smile. Tony and Clint stood in the kitchen of the Avengers Tower common area holding beers and quibbling over sordid details of Tony’s past as a wild rich kid. Nat sat on a couch with her feet in Bruce’s lap, getting a foot massage while talking to Jane about the Soviet space race. Steve and Thor sat on the long couch facing the big screen TV playing Mario Kart.

“Dang it, Thor! Quit it with those shells!”

“My apologies, Steven.”

“You don’t sound sorry!”

Darcy strolled into the kitchen and deposited her burden of cookies onto the countertop. She was glad to see Thor after his time in Europe, but she would say hello when there wasn’t a risk of Mario Kart induced wrestling matches.

“Taser-girl’s here! Finally we can decide what to order for dinner.”

“Hi to you too, Tony” Darcy chuckled as the billionaire wrapped his beer free hand around her shoulders to reel her in for a hug. She gave him a gentle squeeze back. He smelled of expensive cologne and machine oil like always. She raised her eyebrows at the beer in his hand. “Beer, Tones? What happened to scotch?”

“Just taking a break…”

Clint burst out laughing. “Because the first night Thor got back, they drank until Tony puked!” Darcy winced.

“How much… I mean I thought Tony had a super high tolerance?”

“Not a godly one though, no matter what he thinks.” Darcy laughed at Tony’s arrogance in thinking he could actually keep up with the superhuman metabolism of an Asgardian. She flitted over to Clint, and he tucked her in beside him as though she had been there for hours. “Need a drink, Darce?”

“Gods, yes,” Darcy sighed. Tony swanned over to the cabinet that was just alcohol and mixers.

“Rum and Coke?”

“Thanks, Tony.” Tony began making her drink as Clint rubbed her back.

“That sigh sounded heavy. Something up?” He asked her. His green eyes glittered with leftover amusement, but his eyebrow arched, fully ready to swoop into concerned friend mode. Darcy patted him affectionately.

“Nothing too bad, just a long week. I did get pulled in to help out on an op a few days ago.”

“Whose?” Natasha had appeared on the other side of the countertop. She cracked open one of the containers of baked goods and lifted it to her nose to smell the contents.

“Team Theta. An intel retrieval that was more complicated than originally estimated. A lot more highly guarded as well. Apparently, Sahani had some words for the folks that did pre-mission assessments.” There weren’t supposed to be that many guards on duty. SHIELD was digging deeper to find out why the company had had so much additional armed security on their premises. Something had clearly been missed in their initial investigation.

“You weren’t there, were you?” Nat demanded sharply, her desire for baked goods temporarily eclipsed by concern for the younger woman.

“Nope. They got in and got me remote access. I hacked and burned from the safety of SHIELD Command Center.” She pursed her lips and her forehead wrinkled in memory.

“Agent Bekele wasn’t so lucky. He got shot in the leg.” Earlier she had dropped by SHIELD Medical to watch an episode of “Hopeless Moneypits” with him and give him a selection of cookies.

Tony leaned across the countertop and handed her a crystal tumbler. Too fancy, thought Darcy. A rum and coke should be drunk out of a red solo cup. But Tony didn’t do plastic cups unless there was beer pong to be played. Darcy was always paranoid that she was going to drop her glass and break something worth more than her entire jewelry collection, not that Tony would give a damn if she did.

“Bekele’s good people,” nodded Clint. “Was it bad?” Darcy shook herself for bringing down the mood and took a healthy plug of her drink.

“No. He lost a bit of blood, but they think recovery should be quick as far as these things go. Though between him and Daniels the motor pool guys must have had a time getting all the blood out the van.” Nat had been about to lift a lavender lemon drizzle cookie to her lips, but at Darcy’s words she stopped.

“Daniels? Is that a new junior agent?” Clint asked as he shoved a whole peanut butter cookie into his mouth. Crap. Darcy hadn’t meant to mention him tonight. She hadn’t meant to think about him at all, needing a night off from her burgeoning crush.

“He’s kinda new, but not a junior. He was just with Theta for this mission.”

“Don’t think I’ve met him yet.”

“Well, we have been busy this fall with Thor in Europe and Nat in Asia.” Mario Kart was frozen on the TV screen and Steve Rogers was reaching into the container with double chocolate chunk expresso. The other Avengers had been kept busy the past few months to make up for the absences, leaving them with precious little down time. “We should drop by SHIELD to do some sparring and catch up officially on things we might have missed.”

“Darcy!” Thor boomed as he jockeyed for space in the suddenly full kitchen.

“Thor!” She squealed. Darcy abandoned Clint and her drink to throw herself bodily at the Asgardian. Thor wrapped her in such an enthusiastic hug that her feet left the floor. “I’m so glad you’re back!”

“I have missed you as well, little lightning sister! I wish you had accompanied Jane to visit Scandinavia. There was much there you would have enjoyed with us.” During Thor’s summer in Europe, Jane had gone over to visit him. Darcy thought it best for her bank account that she didn’t go. Thor was one of her favorite people in the world. In addition to her best friend’s boyfriend, he was a friendly and affectionate man who didn’t mind being used as a pillow as he listened. It wasn’t uncommon for movie parties to end with Thor propping up both Darcy and Jane. She gabbled excitedly to Thor about her baking experiments and knitting projects, gladly allowing the conversation to flow away from mentions of SHIELD and Agent Daniels.

Bruce and Jane were summoned to the kitchen to debate over what kind of takeout they should get. Thor won with a strong argument about missing the comforts of New York cuisine while he was gone. Multiple massive pizzas were ordered with accompanying fries, chicken tenders, and jalapeno poppers. Thor filled Darcy in on some of his latest adventures in Europe, which included outdrinking an entire pub of sailors, nearly causing a diplomatic incident over an arm wrestling contest, and identifying several fake artifacts in a small museum.

When the food arrived, several minor scuffles broke out. Darcy laughed hysterically as she, Bruce, and Jane watched Clint try to steal some of Tony’s garlic fries as a distraction for Nat to make off with half of the meat lover’s pizza. When the team settled at the long table to eat the conversation turned towards Avengers activities.

“Two weeks ago some weird old sorcerer used an artifact from another world to bring Central Park to life,” Tony told Nat.

“Isn’t Central Park already full of living things?”

“No, no! I mean all the rocks and trees and stuff started walking around and attacking people!” Happy chatter filled the space and pizza perfumed the air. Darcy munched on her veggie topped pizza with great contentment. Just because the vegetables were on top of pizza didn’t mean that Darcy didn’t count them as eating healthy.

“What happened after you destroyed the artifact?”

“Everything snapped back to normal. We spent the rest of day untangling civilians from tree roots and persuading Hulk to put the rocks back where they came from.”

“Good job, Bruce!” Darcy reached over and patted the quiet scientist’s arm. He chuckled and patted her hand in return.

“So, what kind of cookies did you make, Darcy?” asked Steve. Darcy stared at his spotless plate. A few minutes ago, it had been filled with large helpings of everything but the poppers. Steve could make food disappear faster than anyone. She shook her head with an envious sigh. Damn superheroes that can eat their own bodyweight in pizza and never gain a pound!

“Lemon drizzles, Chocolate expresso chunk, peanut butter, and plain chocolate chip.” Steve whistled.

“You pulled out all of the stops!”

“Sure did, mon Capitaine! Everyone was so busy this summer I feel like I barely saw you guys. I missed you all.” Steve tugged playfully at the end of her messy braid on his way back to the table with his plate freshly loaded with caloric decadence.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around much, Darce. I know I said I would go to that Andy Warhol Exhibit with you but-“ Darcy snatched his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“But saving the world comes first,” she interrupted. It wasn’t the first time one of her friends had had to cancel plans on her, and as far as reasons went that was probably the best one. The worst one being ‘I know I said I’d come to karaoke night, but some super-powered psycho was running up 8^th avenue with a spear and turned me temporarily into a shish-kabob, and don’t worry Tony’s flying me to the nearest hospital’. Darcy had accused Steve of giving her prematurely gray hairs after she heard that particular voicemail.

“We’ll just have to go to a different exhibit, Stevie, and you’ll buy me an absurdly expensive souvenir from the gift shop.” Steve chuckled and began wolfing down cookies like it was his job.

“I think we can make that happen.” Clint gave a cavernous yawn and stretched.

“Boooring! Who’s up for another round of Mario Kart?” There were several takers. Before leaving the table, Clint hung himself over the back of Darcy’s chair. “I’ll be at SHIELD on Monday. Wanna grab lunch?” Darcy grinned and ruffled her fingers through his spiky blond hair.

“Of course! I don’t have any meetings until 2. Unless someone needs me to pull their asses out of the fire again.” Clint gave her a squeeze and headed off to battle Bruce and Tony. Darcy remained with Nat, Jane, and Steve to eat their dessert.

“You mentioned another SHIELD agent was injured on that mission, who was it again?” Natasha asked casually. Darcy looked sideways at the Black Widow. Nat didn’t forget small details, even ones that came up in casual conversation. It was one of the skills that had kept her alive all these years. What was she up to?

“Yeah, Agent Daniels got clipped a few times. Messy, but not life threatening. Stubborn idiot.” She murmured the last aside to herself. She wondered how he was recovering.

“Oh?” Nat seized on the last bit. “What makes you say that?” Darcy winced. She should have known better than to think her comment would go unnoticed in a room full of spies and superheroes.

“Wait, Agent Daniels? Is that the same guy with the cowboy hat that you were talking about before yoga the other day?” asked Jane. Darcy focused her attention on her cookie, practicing some precision nibbling.

“Yes,” she did her best to respond casually. “The same. He was being silly about going to Medical.” She tried to keep her voice light and joking. “Just like some other idiots I could mention.”

“Why were you and Jane discussing him?” Nat raised her eyebrows. Shit. Shit. Redirect!

“Oh, I’ve run into him a few times is all. So did you-“

“Darcy thinks he’s a decent guy who needs help making friends,” Jane interjected. Damn it.

“Really?” Nat’s tone was smooth as butter, lightly salted with insinuation. Steve was nowhere near as subtle.

“So are you planning on being his friend, Darce?” He bobbed his eyebrows up and down. “It’s been a while since you ‘made a new friend’. You offer to play nurse for him?” Darcy gasped in outrage. It was so easy to forget that polite Steven was also Stevie the little shit.

“Is this Agent Daniels attractive?” Nat was asking Jane. Darcy moaned and faceplanted the table. There would be no escape from Nat’s prying. The woman who dealt in deadly secrets for a living also enjoyed recreational gossip and would sniff it out like a bloodhound. Pretty soon Nat would know every instance of Darcy so much as looking at Agent Daniels, which had been numerous lately.

And Steve’s comment about playing nurse hit way too close to home. She had had perfectly good reasons for checking on the team and then escorting them up to Medical, but staying and helping Daniels get cleaned up? Not so much. Steve made it sound like foreplay.

But wouldn’t you like it to be? A voice in her brain teased her. You do think he’s attractive, and competent, and he’s got decent manners when guns aren’t involved. He shut down Malkovich. He realized the risk of the time-space pocket and calculated how much air they had, so he’s smart. And he seemed so surprised and confused by anyone showing concern for him…

Darcy shook herself and refocused on the conversation. Jane had been telling Steve and Nat about the sparring match they had stumbled upon after yoga.

“He is a strong fighter then?” Natasha was asking. Jane shrugged.

“As far as I can judge these things.”

“So Darcy’s type is now suit-wearing cowboys?” Steve gently nudged Darcy’s side.

“I don’t love any of you right now,” Darcy moaned. “None of you deserve my cookies!”

“Has Agent Daniels gotten a taste of your cookies, Darcy?” Darcy turned her head to glare at Steve.

“How do you keep making everything sound sexual?” Steve burst out laughing.

“That time I actually just meant to suggest that feeding him baked goods might persuade him into asking you out on a date, but you said it, not me!” Darcy’s mouth hung open as the others began to laugh with him. She felt blood rush to her cheeks. She had walked right into that one.

“Perhaps that would make a good next step, Milaya,” Natasha offered as the laughter died down.

“Oh sure, Nat. I’ll woo the man with baked goods.” She threw up her hands in exasperation.

“It could work. Your baking is delicious.”

“Thank you, but you’re all assuming that I’m trying to start something with Daniels.” Her friends exchanged sideways glances. “To clarify, I think he’s a bit closed-off and so I mentioned to Jane that maybe he needed help making friends, but after the sparring in the gym he’s had people inviting him to their tables at lunch so he’s not doing too badly there. The medical thing-“

“So you’re paying attention to who he sits with at lunch? Ooh! Darcy might have a crush!” Gods, Steve was a giant shit sometimes.

“And she made sure he went to medical,” Natasha murmured.

“I do the same thing for any of you!”

“Precisely,” Natasha pounced. “We are your friends. You care about us. Clearly, you care about this man as well!”

Darcy froze, a deer in the headlights, as she tried to come up with a rebuttal. She couldn’t, not without it coming out as a lie. Because she did care. She saw plenty of other agents wandering the halls of SHIELD with empty looks in their eyes, but she didn’t feel the clawing need to make them smile again. She had seen other agents with blood from the field still stuck to them, but she hadn’t chased them to Medical to make sure that they would be okay. She didn’t go around thinking how nice her other coworkers would look with a few buttons loose and hair tousled from her fingers.

“Odin’s saggy balls,” she cursed quietly. Jane snorted some of her drink out of her nose. She coughed and Steve gently patted her on the back. Natasha’s lips quirked upwards in satisfaction. The grilling commenced.

“What kind of baked good do you think he prefers?”

“Will your first date be square dancing or target shooting?

“Is his favorite position cowgirl or reverse cowgirl?”

“OH MY FUCKING GODS, JANE FOSTER YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT!” Darcy shrieked at the top of her lungs. Her shout brought the others tumbling back to the table at top speed.

“What did we miss?” demanded Tony. Steve opened his mouth to reply but Darcy bolted up out of her seat and clamped both hands over his mouth.

“Absolutely not! No. Rejected. Verboten. So help me Hela, if anyone repeats that I will never bake anything ever again!” Steve gave his best puppy-dog eyes, but Darcy remained strong as Vibranium.

“Are we at least allowed to say-“ began Jane, but Darcy swung her head to glare at her with an audible growl.

“No, you troublemaker! You’ve lost talking privileges.”

“What is going on, Darcy?” Bruce asked softly, ever the voice of moderation. Darcy willed herself to gain some of his composure via osmosis. It had very limited effect. She sat back in her seat and threw back the last of her drink.

“I may have a tiny crush on a person from work. These assholes think it’s hilarious.”

“Well then ignore them, come sit us and play Mario Kart. Do you want Luigi or Princess Peach?” Darcy got up again and went into the living area, but not before turning and giving the gossip-mongers at the table an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.

“Sooo…” began Tony after a few more rounds of games and drinks. “Is it serious? You and this guy?”

“When have you ever known me to be serious about anything, Tony?” Darcy scoffed as she lapped Clint and stole a booster right out from under Thor. “No,” she answered after a minute of dead air. “Nothing serious is going on. We haven’t talked much. I think he’s hot as hell, but with more baggage than Heathrow Airport. I have no idea what he thinks about me, if he even thinks about me at all,” she finished in a mumble.

“Hot but damaged sounds sexy as fuck,” replied Tony. He took advantage of her distraction to shell her. “And I’ve never seen you let it get in your way. You want it him, go get him, Taser Girl.” Darcy laughed and threw a shell, but it missed Tony and hit Bruce instead. Tony’s got a point. Darcy thought as she looked around at the strange array of individuals she called her friends. I like complicated people and they seem to like me because I’m not. Maybe Agent Daniels needs someone uncomplicated in his life.

Chapter Text

The pull of half healed injuries made the skin of his stomach ache as he swung his arm in a swift arc. The tip of the whip made a satisfying crack as it pierced the sound barrier and struck one of the target dummies. He grinned. Jack loved that sound. He remembered being a teenager when he had first learned to make a whip crack. On his father’s ranch he had learned to ride as soon as he could walk, use a lasso before he was ten, and shoot rifles at twelve. There hadn’t been much call for fancy whipwork, it had been something he did for the joy of it. In the modern world, even after Indiana Jones, using a whip was a rare skill. Using a whip in combat hardly ever happened outside of comic books, but he had learned it. It was nostalgia and pride shaken in a heady cocktail that made him keep his skills sharp.

He took aim at another dummy and cracked. The tip of the whip hit the dummy’s head. He couldn’t hold back a wince. Jack had been hit before, it was a peril of whipwork, but being struck in the face at full speed was not something he had ever experienced. The dummy had certainly just lost an eye. He increased his speed slowly, upping the difficulty of the routine, until he was spinning from target to target like a tornado. Ordinarily, he would have activated a program that made the dummies move around, forcing him to run and twist to hit the targets on their heads and chests, but he was still injured. He would leave the running and acrobatics for another day.

At some point Jack became aware that he was being watched. This wasn’t uncommon when he was using the whip. People would hear the sound and come to investigate or happen to wander by. The observer remained outside until he had finished his routine, a wise move on their part. When Jack finally came to a stop, a slow clap of applause rang in the air. He took a pull from his water bottle and turned to face the observer.

A man with short, sandy blond hair leaned casually in the doorway. He had a pugilist’s crooked nose and wore black tactical fatigues.  Jack recognized him. Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye of the Avengers, who also worked as an agent of SHIELD. Jack had never encountered the man professionally (at least as far as he knew) but he had always tried to keep apprised of the major players in top intelligence organizations. He and a few others at Statesmen had called it ‘Spy Bingo’. Any time one of them personally encountered or brought back significant information about another spy’s movements, they got to put a chip on Ginger’s randomly generated bingo board. If they got a bingo in a month, someone would bring in donuts or pizza. Silly, but entertaining, and it had kept them sharp.

Jack met Barton’s gaze and gave him a curt nod. He didn’t think he’d been between Barton’s crosshairs before and was unlikely to be while he was at SHIELD, but professional curtesy was never a bad idea.

“Agent Barton.”

“New Guy. That’s some fancy shit. Haven’t seen anyone do that in years.” Barton shrugged off the doorway and came into the room. Jack purposefully kept his body loose, ready to respond but nonaggressive.

“Where did ya see it before?” He drawled. Barton smirked.

“Circus.” It surprised a snort out of Jack. “Where did you pick it up?”

“Out west,” Jack responded vaguely. Now Barton snorted.

“I’m not surprised with that getup.” Jack glanced down at himself. He had taken off his jack and tie and rolled up his sleeves. He still wore a deep blue button down with grey slacks and his black hat. “Agent Cowboy, then? I think I may have heard something like that before.” Jack dipped his head. Barton probably had encountered Statesmen agents before, although not all wore Western apparel (that being a matter of personal preference), and he would almost certainly have heard of them. There were only so many agents in the world that operated at the level he and Barton did. That he used to. He wasn’t a Statesmen anymore. Here at SHIELD, Jack wasn’t even a senior agent. Starting over galled him.

He extended his hand to Barton.

“Jack Daniels.” Barton laughed and shook. Barton’s hands were incredibly tough, sinewy things with heavy calluses on fingers, knuckles, and palms. His arms bulged with strongly defined muscles. Unsurprising for an acrobatic archer. Barton may be a ranged combat specialist, but Jack sure didn’t want to try arm wrestling the man either.

“No way in hell is that your given name, man!” Jack shook his head with the ghost of a smile. It wasn’t uncommon for spies to live under assumed names even when technically off-mission. Statesmen insisted on it as a layer of additional security. Even if an agent had to burn every cover they’d ever used, their true names would stay safe so that one day they might be able to fade back into the civilian population. He had lived as Jack Daniels since his recruitment in his mid-20s.

“At least everyone will remember your drink order. I’m Clint Barton, but you already knew that.”

“A pleasure,” Jack drawled. He even meant it. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“Yeah,” Barton sighed as he rubbed the back of his head. “That’s the trouble of running around with people like Captain America. It tends to draw attention to you.” Jack scoffed.

“Your reputation preceded you before the Avengers. Using archaic weaponry will do that.”

“So you’ve been in the game for a while then,” Barton seized on the idea like a dog on a bone. “Not a newbie agent. A guy your age doesn’t just pop out of thin air.” Jack tilted his head. Surely Barton didn’t expect Jack to volunteer where he had worked before? No, the other man was just chumming the waters to see what Jack might snap at. He shrugged at Barton.

“Just as you say,” he replied politely. Barton waved this aside.

“New to New York City?” This question only got Barton a raised eyebrow. “Oh, relax man, not trying to suss you out. Just wondering if you needed a bar or takeout recommendation.” Jack blinked. Barton was attempting to be friendly? Barton grinned at him. “How about a sparring partner then? I might have heard through the grapevine that you’re a tough nut to crack.” Jack felt on safer ground now.

“Maybe.” Jack smiled slightly. He liked the idea of sparring with Barton. The man would be a challenge, someone that could really push Jack to his limits in a way that few regular agents at SHIELD could. “I think I’d like that when I’m healed up.” He tapped his stomach. “Got a bit scuffed up on my last mission, but it should be fine by next week if you’re still around.” Clint nodded and crossed his arms.

“I might have heard something along those lines. Something about a stubborn cowboy needing to be wrestled up to Medical?”  He chuckled. “After meeting you, I’m surprised she didn’t need to hog tie you to get you up there.” Jack stilled. There was only one ‘she’ that Barton could be referring to.

“Darcy Fucking Lewis,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

The entire time Lewis had been touching him with those damn alcohol wipes he had barely been able to breathe. The gentle scent of her had distracted him from the smells of disinfectant and blood. If he had had enough air in his lungs, he might have done something fucking embarrassing like sigh or beg her to keep touching him. He had been afraid that one wrong breath would dislodge the delicate touch of her skin on his. Dangerous. So dangerous to be thinking like that, but what a lovely distraction from the pain. Her eyes had looked more blue that day in the cool, bright light of the Medical Department. He had watched sooty dark lashes flutter as her eyes roamed over him, looking for blood, looking for things to fix or clean. But the things that were wrong with him couldn’t be stitched up by a doctor or wiped away by a concerned hand.

I am nothing more than a weapon. Not anymore.

He had been so distracted that he made several errors later when filling out the post-mission paperwork. Luckily Ramos was a good team leader who had caught them in review before they were officially submitted. He had murmured something sympathetic about how Jack was clearly tired and injured so he really could have waited until the next day to do it, but Jack had shrugged off the concern, eager to be done with it all.

“The one and only!” Barton agreed, calling Jack back to the present.

“How-“ Jack stopped himself. Barton worked at SHIELD. Lewis worked at SHIELD. Lewis was known to be friendly with the Avengers, if those assholes on Team Sierra were to be believed. It made sense that Barton knew her. “She talked about me? To you?”

 “We were all having a catchup because we haven’t hung out much lately, and Darcy mentioned she got pulled onto a mission. It got us all pretty worried, so naturally we asked her about it. She said you and Bekele got shot, but you were being stubborn about going to Medical. No details beyond that, Darcy understands operational security is important.”

“Does she now?” He said flatly. Jack felt unnerved by Lewis, Lewis talking about him, and Lewis talking about him to Clint Barton. He couldn’t decide which facet of the situation was making his stomach squirm. At his words Barton looked affronted.

“Of course! Darcy may talk a lot, but she doesn’t go spilling sensitive info. We wouldn’t be friends with her if she did!”

“So you are friends then?” Jack challenged softly. Barton looked even more irritated.

“Yeah, Darcy and I have been buddies for years now!” Jack raised his hands in surrender.

“Just askin’. Tryin’ to figure that woman out is harder than gettin’ cheap concert tickets these days,” he sighed in exasperation. Words began spilling out of him. “She just pops up and says the most bizarre shit. No predicting her!” Barton’s lips curled into a smile as he crossed his arms.

“Yup, that’s Darcy! Fun, isn’t it? The way she doesn’t fit into neat little boxes? Personally, I think she likes to take the little boxes and make origami dinosaurs with them.”

Jack groaned. If even her friends thought the woman unpredictable, how was he supposed to sort her? Everyone got sorted. Combatants versus noncombatants. Agents and civilians. Long range weapons versus short range weapons. Everyone got classified somehow so that Jack could parse them in his threat assessments. Barton was an agent, long range specialist, Avenger, general threat but not currently aggressive. Darcy Lewis was… a scientist? He didn’t really know what a lab manager did. SHIELD affiliated, yes. Avengers affiliated, confirmed. Physical threat? Doubtful, as she seemed to lack any training in hand to hand combat but he couldn’t confirm that. Preferred weaponry? Completely unknown. Threat level? Too damn confusing. His inclination was to put her down as nonthreatening, but he still didn’t understand her skills, her abilities, the positions she held, or her motivations for acting the way she did towards him. Jack couldn’t sort her and it was confusing him.

Jack flexed his hand and the water bottle crinkled. It reminded him.

“What’s her deal with the water?” He asked Barton. Maybe she’s one of those health nuts obsessed with how much they drink per day, counting ounces and calories, complicating the simplest things. Maybe she does it to everyone she meets. Barton only looked confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Half the time I interact with her she asks when I last drank water.” Barton cocked his head, looking him up and down.

“Oh, so she’s already doing that to you!”

“Doing what?”

“Checking in,” Barton told him with a satisfied nod. “Darcy takes care of people. It’s one of her things. Has she made you your favorite type of baked good yet?” Barton’s strange question threw him for a loop.

“What?” Jack could only ask stupidly.

“I mean, if you’re only at the water phase you could still have time to wriggle out, but if she’s baked you cookies already it’s too late.”

“Barton, what in the hell are you talkin’ about?” It was like the other man had switched into an entirely different language, a strange code that Jack couldn’t make sense of.

“Becoming friends with Darcy,” Barton said simply. Jack just stared at the blond archer. Friends? He and Lewis weren’t friends. Jack didn’t have friends, not anymore. He had coworkers, neighbors, contacts, not friends. Friends weren’t safe. Jack ran through his past interactions with Lewis. The water was her trying to be friends? What kind of weird strategy was that?

“Now I really don’t understand,” Jack mumbled as he rubbed a hand across his mustache. To his surprise, Barton reached out and clapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s really not that complicated. Darcy likes to help people in general, but she really likes to take care of her friends. It’s her style. Making sure you remember to eat and drink is one of the first steps she goes through. It means she cares. At this point, if she’s done it a few times, it means she likes you well enough to be friends. You could probably tell her to lay off, but why would you? Being friends with Darcy is awesome! Some dumb fucks do find her a bit intense though, so maybe that’s why. Anyhow, one of the things she does for people who are more than casual friends is find out what you like, specifically so that she can bake it. Once that happens you’re pretty much a lifetime member of the Darcy club!”

Jack stared open mouthed, wide-eyed, and completely frozen by the new information. Deer in the headlights facing down a semi-truck. His brain was probably making that dial up internet sound.

Why? Why would she want me? Does she just go around befriending everyone she meets?

 During their first interaction Jack had hardly been on his best behavior. And then the meeting had been just that, a regular meeting. Although, he had appreciated that moment of synergy between them when she had understood exactly what he had been saying about the oxygen supply. Afterwards… well he had dealt with that prick Malkovich for her. Perhaps that was it. If Malkovich and Rumlow’s disrespectful attitudes were commonplace at SHIELD it might make sense that Lewis was keen to befriend anyone who wasn’t a shithead. Yes. That sounded logical. She had decided that he was an ally, an asset to be cultivated. Jack could understand that. Somewhere in the recesses of his brain Darcy Lewis tucked herself into a dusty box labeled ‘potential allies’.

Clint Barton waited patiently as Jack’s brain did a hard reset to incorporate the new data. The archer stood smirking with his hand still on Jack’s shoulder.

“I…didn’t realize that was what she was doin’,” Jack finally managed. Barton gives him another one of those long looks. He patted Jack’s shoulder again before withdrawing.

“Kinda weird, isn’t it? Darcy’s good at doing the unexpected. If it makes you feel any better, she got to all of us, but in like the best way possible. I am serious about it being a pretty sweet club to be in.” Barton wiggled his eyebrows. “Last week she made four types of cookies to bring to game night. Also, for my last birthday, she knitted me the warmest fucking hat I’ve ever owned.”

So, Lewis had befriended the Avengers like this? With cookies, and bottles of water, and hand knitted hats? Had she stood beside all of them when they were hurt and wiped the blood off their faces? He felt something then, the churning in his gut became a sort of ache. He wanted her to do that again. He wanted her to touch him with that kindness and make cookies just because she knew he liked them. He wanted it more strongly than he’d wanted anything in months.

“Thanks for the info, Barton. I think I get it now.”

“Cool. Thinking of joining the club?”

“I’m not sure yet.” He was. He was just considering the price of admission. What did Lewis want in return?

“Sure. Anyhow, that sparring offer still good?” Jack jerked his meandering thoughts back to Barton. The other agent had just given him some good insight, a sparring match was a good trade. He extended a hand.

“Looking forward to it.” He gave Barton a fighting grin. Barton returned it and clasped his hand. “And thanks.”

Chapter Text

Darcy stormed into the cafeteria full of righteous indignation. Professor Bosworth had nearly driven her to violence during their meeting. A man in his upper 70s belonging to the oldest guard of academia, the Professor made his female colleagues irritated with his constant inquiries about why they had gone into research when their husbands had good jobs or why they weren’t at home with their children. Most of his comments weren’t meant to be demeaning, but he tended to get under people’s skin. This wasn’t the first meeting Darcy had had to have with the elderly man to discuss modern workplace etiquette, but it had been the worst. On this particular day Darcy had tried to have a discussion about the Professor’s use of the wrong pronouns with regards to Dr. Libitz. It hadn’t gone well, with both of them becoming increasing frustrated, until Darcy had finally snapped and demanded to know why, if the Professor was so intelligent, was it so difficult to use ‘they’ singular when referring to Dr. Libitz. Nothing productive had occurred after that.

Darcy was striving to bring herself back under control, but even color-coding things had failed to calm her down! She had tried so hard to be a proper manager. She had done her best to be fair, levelheaded, and understanding. She had even dressed the part, even though it was hardly her most comfortable outfit. Darcy didn’t like wearing bland pencil skirts with stockings and heels, but she thought that Professor Bosworth might take her more seriously if she garbed herself in boring serious clothing. It was a kind of visual code-switching that had proven successful in the past. It hadn’t helped today, and now she would be mildly uncomfortable until it was quitting time.

Darcy damn well deserved a nice soothing cup of coffee with a mid-morning donut! If only they hadn’t run out of the double fudge donuts. Darcy waved away the offer of a raspberry filled and turned to find a place to sit. Now that it was well into September SHIELD was suddenly bursting with people. Everyone was coming back from summer vacations or long assignments. Darcy spotted a group of people from tech support that she knew and headed in their direction, but then she saw him.

Jack Daniels sat by the south wall at a small table. Today he wore a grey suit with an emerald green shirt and a black silk tie. His usual black hat made him instantly recognizable even across the cafeteria. Yummy, Darcy sighed as her feet propelled her in his direction. Get a grip!

There was no grip to be had however, as Darcy came nearer and spotted a new detail: Agent Daniels was wearing glasses. Oh, Freyja help me! Nooooo! He can’t look cute too, that should be illegal! His glasses were thick rimmed and retro looking. By all natural laws, they should have made him look like an old fashioned geek, but the universe clearly liked toying with Darcy too much, and instead they made him look sophisticated and intelligent. Daniels looked up from the sheaf of papers he was reading to see who had approached him, letting the folder that held them flip closed.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses!” popped out of Darcy’s mouth before she could stop herself. Nrgh, you couldn’t have said hello like a normal person?

Daniels raised an eyebrow at her and leaned back in his chair. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Lewis.” His mouth settled into a tiny smile. Klaxons blared in Darcy’s brain as her blood threatened to overheat. Why did he have to look like that? Why did he have to sound like that? The man was more dangerous than nitroglycerin! It would be smarter for Darcy to excuse herself politely before she embarrassed herself further. She stared at the way his mouth twitched up at the corners, making her stomach flutter. She cocked her head at him and gave him a disarming smile. Then again, no one had ever called Darcy Lewis a genius.

“Well Cowboy, we could fix that. Mind if I join you?” Both his eyebrows leapt skywards, but whether it was at her words or the flirty tone in which she said them, Darcy couldn’t tell. The other chair at the table scraped backwards as Agent Daniels pushed it back with a booted foot. Darcy’s smile morphed into a triumphant grin as she seated herself, her bad mood from earlier completely forgotten. “Thanks. What’cha working on?”

“Studying some personnel files.”

“For an upcoming mission or recreationally?”

“Little of column A, little of column B.” Darcy shrugged at his dodge. She was used to getting half answers and evasions when talking to her agent friends.

“Must drive you crazy.” He tilted his head at her. “Being new, I mean. Settling into to a new place is hard enough, but going into the field with strangers you don’t know must be a total nightmare!”  His eyes widened as though he hadn’t expected her to say that.

“It does,” he said with quiet ferocity. It startled them both. He leaned forward a little. “It’s dangerous as hell too.” Darcy nodded. Spies didn’t trust easily as a rule, and Daniels took that to an extreme. He didn’t even want to voluntarily seek medical attention so great was his distrust in his new colleagues. She didn’t expect him to trust her, but she still wanted to reach out anyways.

“If there’s someone you’ve got questions about, you can ask me. I know lots of people around here so sometimes I may know things that won’t be in the files.” Daniels narrowed his eyes at her, considering, assessing, judging.

“Well… I’ve got an upcoming mission with Team Echo,” he said slowly. “What can you tell me about them?” Darcy frowned. First Team Sierra, then Team Theta, and now Team Echo? He was being shuffled around quite a bit. No wonder the man was studying personnel files like a maniac.

“I know Echo has Albertsson, Opeyemi, and Sala. Who are the others?” She wanted to make an excuse about people getting shuffled around, but truthfully she simply didn’t know every single agent and their team designation.

“Trucco and Gerber.” Darcy snapped her fingers.

“Ah! Here’s something that might be good to know, Trucco is just coming off the injured list. He broke an ankle and it took some time to heal.” The cowboy nodded. “I don’t know Albertsson well, but Sala is a total cardsharp. Do not gamble with him! The man has a near eidetic memory.” Daniels nodded again.

“Useful in this line o’ work.” Darcy snorted.

“Yes, and he is utterly unscrupulous in how he uses it! I lost 50 bucks the last time I played poker with him!” Daniels chuckled.

“You play poker?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Cowboy,” Darcy parroted back at him.

“Oh, I know,” he said softly. The tone made the butterflies in Darcy’s stomach take wing again. She couldn’t look away from his deep brown eyes. “Why don’t we fix that?” An explosion worthy of Hollywood kicked off in Darcy’s chest. She clenched her hands around her cup of coffee to keep them from trembling. Fuck. Shit. She swore the temperature had just gone up by three degrees. Why was he affecting her so much today? Was it only the glasses? Maybe it was the repeated exposure like radiation? Maybe it was the way that he seemed downright chatty today? Who knew.

“Unlike everyone else around here, I’m an open book,” Darcy chirped nervously. She sipped on her coffee as she watched Daniels’ face shift to contemplative.  What was he going to ask her?

“What’s your weapon of choice?” Darcy choked and only narrowly avoided a spit take. Once she was done sputtering, she began to laugh. Daniels looked on with a raised eyebrow, unsmiling. He was completely serious. She supposed she should have expected it.

“I don’t have one. I mean I don’t use them.” She pointed at herself. “Can you imagine me with a gun?” She shuddered at the idea of combining her own clumsy nature with deadly weapons. Daniels leaned forward, bracing his arms on the tabletop. He frowned at her.

“None? But how is that possible?” Now it was her turn to frown.

“Easily,” she scoffed. “I work in the labs. I’m not an agent.” His frown deepened. Fine lines appeared across his forehead, at the corners of mouth, and in crows feet beside his lovely eyes.

“Seriously, nothing?” he demanded, seeming alarmed. Darcy shrugged.

“Nat’s been after me for years about training-“ Daniels’ eyes widened to comical proportions. “But all I’ll let her teach me are some self-defense moves. I have zero desire to fight people. Oh, and I carry a taser. Pretty good with that, if I do say so myself.” Daniels scrubbed a hand across his mouth, his eyes focused far away, clearly thinking hard. Finally, he sighed.

“Self defense lessons from the Widow herself and a taser. Well that’s… something at least.” Darcy rolled her eyes at him and sipped her coffee. His attitude wasn’t uncommon. Even administrative personnel and lab scientists at SHIELD frequently had combat training and carried weapons. Darcy was an outlier in her refusal to do so. Daniels refocused on her.

“Your turn.”

“My turn?” Her confusion amused him. His mouth didn’t move but his eyes warmed.

“Yeah, your turn. It’s only fair. I asked you a question, so now you ask me one.” Darcy was absolutely shocked. He was actually volunteering information? Spies didn’t do that. They just didn’t. But, it wasn’t quite volunteering. She had given him some info about the team he would be working with next and some info about her, and now he was offering some in exchange. A bargain. A trade. That was something spies did. Nothing for nothing. She would have preferred a free-flowing conversation, but it was probably too soon even for that. Daniels’ sense of decency demanded that he give something in exchange. She could work with that.

“What’s your favorite animal?” She had surprised him again. Darcy liked doing that. His eyes went all big and round and he looked so cute!

“What?”

“Fine, it’s a hard question. Top 3 then.” He blinked his big brown eyes at her. Darcy smiled and resisted her desire to coo at him. Deadly agents didn’t always appreciate that.

“That’s what you want to know? You aren’t gonna ask-“ He bit off whatever he had been about to say, clearly frustrated and confused. Darcy tilted her head at him and leaned forward to mimic his posture.

“What did you think I was going to ask?”

“Normal shit, Lewis! How’d I get to SHIELD, where was I before? What are my specialties? What types of missions do I prefer?” His accent made his words twang and run together. Darcy nodded slowly, thinking over her responses with care.

“I think I’ll address that point by point. First of all, I already know some of your specialties because I was curious and asked around. Secondly, preferred missions might mean somethings to other agents, but not so much to me. I’d learn more about you from your favorite animals. And as to your past… I can’t pretend I’m not curious. Agents always have interesting stories. But your past is your business. I know that you’ve been a spy for a long time, so that means that you’ve worked for other agencies, maybe other countries or as an independent, either way that’s highly privileged information. I gave you some info about your colleagues and told you I carry a taser. My info is hardly worth that.” She sipped at her coffee as she watched him consider her words. Finally, he narrowed his eyes and leaned forward more. They were so close together now that Darcy could have almost counted his eyelashes.

“I didn’t stipulate the grade of the information you could ask,” he said softly. Darcy’s pulse raced. Despite her coffee her mouth felt dry. Had he wanted her to ask? Would he have answered if she had?

“You didn’t,” she responded just as softly. “But demanding information that you have no desire to give me defeats the purpose.”

“And just what is the purpose of this conversation? Why are you here?” His eyes were hard in contrast to his voice. It was a dangerous combo that made Darcy feel short of breath. Even as her brain warned her that Jack Daniels was incredibly dangerous, her heart gave a twinge. Does he really not know? Or is he just being polite in not mentioning how I pant after him?

There was a chance that this was all some strange game, his initial warmth, his offer to share information. Darcy had no head for the intricate interpersonal games that she knew spies like Natasha played with other high-level operatives. The complexities and shades of truth that those games demanded were beyond her, and she preferred it that way. She would tell him the truth. Darcy decided then that she would do her best never to lie to Jack Daniels. He was so used to those games that he didn’t even recognize when someone just wanted to talk. Not to exchange information or ferret out secrets, but to get to know him as a person.

Darcy forced herself to inhale deeply and slowly exhale, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. This was a bit of a risk; it could make things awkward, but he had asked. He was still staring intensely, still waiting. She still wanted.

“I’m here because this hot guy I work with was sitting alone when I came to get some coffee.” His eyes widened and lips parted. “I wanted to ask how he was feeling because he got hurt last week and I was worried, but it turns out he wears glasses, which are my kryptonite, so my brain totally misfired.” She smirked at his gob smacked expression. It was gratifying that she had managed to hide how damned attractive she thought him, to the point that he would find her admission shocking. Was that a point for her acting abilities or just a measure of how disconnected he was? She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and folding her arms. She hoped it made her look confident, like she called sexy agents her personal kryptonite every day.

“I withdraw my animals question. How are your injuries?” The ball was in his court now.

‘Hot guy’, him? Jack’s mind was once again forced to re-evaluate every interaction he’d had with Darcy Lewis as he integrated the new intel. Barton may have got it wrong; Lewis didn’t just want to be his friend, she also found him attractive. He hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t been looking for it. Hadn’t considered that she would. He had been so focused on concealing his own reactions that he had completely missed hers. He was rusty. Damned rusty.

Then she admitted to being worried about him and his brain nearly exploded. Worried about him. Worried that he might still be hurting. Something deep in his gut wrenched.

Then, his glasses were her kryptonite? Wasn’t that just something? His pride, a much battered and bloodied thing, was flattered. And that it was his frickin’ nerdy reading glasses… that was a weird kind of icing on the cake. That clever mouth of hers had gone out of control, had it? It made a man wonder just what else he could do to make her lose control. And what might she say or do when she did.

His own control was flagging when Darcy Lewis leaned back in her chair with a smirk on her pretty mouth. Her usually red mouth was a tame pink today, and the front of her hair was held back neatly with pins instead of her red hat. Her usual jeans and boots were missing too, replaced by – oh fuck. He hadn’t noticed the skirt and stockings earlier. Rusty. Damn but she had nice legs though. He wanted to run a finger up the curve of her calf, chart the angles precisely. He wanted to know where her usual dark lipstick was, not that her mouth needed it. He wanted to know if the light pink tasted differently from the deep red. He wanted- shit. He wanted lots of things. It had been bad enough when he thought about those things before, but now that he knew she was over there thinking similar things him? Fucking hell.

“I withdraw my animals question. How are your injuries?” Jeezus, why was she asking him about that shit now? How was his brain supposed to function when she kept on dropping bombs on him? He should get a hold of himself. He should answer politely and extricate himself from the situation. Darcy Lewis was dangerous. He couldn’t think straight when she was around. His best option was a tactical retreat.

Or was it? There was another option, one that might open up more possibilities. This option was the one that Jack Daniels, top Statesmen agent, might once have used. That felt like a lifetime ago. He was rusty, sure, but Lewis didn’t seem to mind. It was a terrible idea, but he wanted to try. He wanted very much.

Jack managed to shut his mouth and relax his face. He leaned back in his own chair, propping an elbow on the back in feigned nonchalance. Lewis’ eyes followed him, and now that he knew what to look for, he noticed her eyes roving over his torso before snapping back to his face. Some of her smirk had faded. He grinned in satisfaction as her eyes followed the hand that he took off the table to brush slowly up his torso on the way to adjust his glasses. Yeah, Lewis liked what she saw. Her cheeks tinted as she stubbornly met his eyes. It felt good, her notice a solid boost to his battered ego.

“Worried about me, Lewis?” He purred. “Why don’t you see for yourself?” He was amply rewarded for his flirtation as Lewis’ cheeks flushed deeply and her eyes widened. He had surprised her for once. He watched her blink several times.

“I – uh-“ she squeaked. It was fucking adorable. She inhaled sharply and managed to find her equilibrium. “That didn’t answer my question.” He chuckled.

“S’pose it didn’t. Fine then. My arm is completely healed.” He tapped his fingers on the part of his stomach where the bullet had grazed him. “This is taking a bit longer. It’s knitting together well, no infection, though it’s still a little sensitive.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Satisfied?” Lewis was biting her bottom lip and frowning slightly. Her eyes appraised him. At last she gave a little huff.

“Not really. Unlike my idiots, I can’t tell when you’re lying.”

“Your idiots?”

“Steve, Thor, and the rest.” She waved a hand as if to gesture to the other members of the Avengers. “They also aren’t great at admitting when they need help, but at least I can tell by now when they’re bullshitting. You’re a lot harder to read.”

“Good. I’m supposed to be.”

“Sure, but not to the point of damaging yourself!” She waved her hand angrily in his direction this time. “What exactly were you going to do if I hadn’t been there to make you go to Medical?” Jack felt a prickle of irritation and he scowled at her.

“I would have dealt with it myself,” he snapped. Most people when faced with his scowl would have immediately tried to flee the situation, but Lewis didn’t seem to have a sense of self-preservation. If he had hoped his words or his tone would dissuade her from perusing the topic further he was disappointed. Lewis bolted to attention, staring at him.

“What the hell does that mean?” she snapped back. “Would you have gone to Medical on your own later?” She shook her head at him. “I highly doubt that! You mean that you would have patched yourself up!” He glowered. Damn her. He didn’t have any sort of response. His lack of retort seemed to calm her slightly. Her posture softened and she leaned towards him again. He kept his own body rigid though he also wanted to lean forward, to recapture that moment from earlier when they had been talking about information exchanges. He wanted to be able to study every minute emotion in her grey eyes.

“You would have patched yourself up, rather than admit to being hurt,” Lewis said lowly. “This isn’t even the first time, is it?” He remained silent, unmoving. Why did it matter? Why should she care? Why did she look so damn upset? She exhaled long and loud. “It wasn’t. Were you always this stubborn?”

“You’re one to talk about being stubborn, Lewis.” His voice was quiet but sharper than steel. She winced and pressed her lips together.

“Yeah, I know. I’m stubborn and nosy. I’ve heard it all before. And you know what? I don’t care!” Her own voice had gone to a harsh whisper. “I ask questions and demand answers because it’s fucking necessary. Otherwise, you get people running around with gunshot wounds trying to stitch themselves up like we don't have a miniature hospital on the sixth floor. I’d rather be stubborn and nosy than let you suffer in silence!” Jack flinched as if struck. He had a mad urge to flee, to get up and run. It was illogical. Lewis was no threat to him, but he wanted to run anyways.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” His own voice was rough, but he couldn’t control it. Lewis, as usual, did the last thing he expected and smiled at him.

“I know. You probably don’t want anyone to look to closely, find any kind of weakness, gain any advantage over you.” Her voice was too gentle now and grey eyes too knowing. Snakes writhed in the pit of Jack’s stomach. “I’m sorry that you feel that way. You probably have damned good reason for thinking in those terms, but it doesn’t apply to me. I’m not an agent. I’m not part of all the bullshit spy games. You don’t need to play them with me. I’m not trying to gain anything here.”

“Then why?” He snarled before he could stop himself, a wounded animal lashing out. “Why are you here?” Lewis tilted her head this way and that. Jack tried to keep a neutral mask in place but his jaw was clenched so tight that he could hear his teeth grinding.

“You keep asking me that question. You asked me before too. My answer isn’t going to change. I’m here because I think you need someone in your corner. I don’t think you’ve had that in a long time, so I’m volunteering. Mull that over. It doesn’t have to be me, but I really do think you should find someone you can trust a little, Jack, before you break.”

Jack spun out in a chaotic whirl of emotions. He couldn’t think. He could barely breathe! Damn her for seeing too much, she was always too much. How could he stop her? Did he even want to? What if he just… let her? People had mentioned that Darcy Lewis collected people, collected friends, collected agents. What if he let her collect him too? Would that be so bad? He could let her bully him into going to the Med bay, and drink more water, and ask silly questions about his favorite animals. It was dangerous, he knew, but it had felt so good. Lewis was unlikely to shoot him in the head, so as long as he was still careful about what he told her…

Darcy stood slowly. Daniels was clearly going to need some time to consider what she had said. She didn’t mind. She knew they were both stubborn people. She was used to dealing with stubborn people and suspicious spies and ornery scientists. She just hoped that he would take some of what she said to heart and find someone to talk to. If even Nat, one of the most dangerous and internationally wanted spies, could find people to talk to and rely on, then so could Jack Daniels. In the meantime though she should probably give him space and let him get back to studying up for his next mission. But as she turned to go a hand closed around her wrist.

“Horses.” Darcy turned to look at Daniels again. He was leaning over the table with his right hand extended to stop her. His expression was too complex to read properly, but his eyebrows were almost colliding they were drawn so tightly.

“What?” Darcy asked.

“Horses, dogs, and hawks. You asked for my favorite animals.” Darcy beamed at him. It was such a small thing, but even that tiny morsel of information was a treasure. It was a crumb of trust, hard-won. Her stomach swooped. She really wanted to kiss that little line between his eyebrows and say ‘there was that so hard?’ But she didn’t, for which she deserved a fucking medal.

“So I did. Horses make sense with the whole cowboy thing, and I don’t trust people who hate dogs, but why hawks?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I’ve always liked watching them fly.”

“Hmm. A good answer, and not one I expected.” She nodded approvingly to him. She rotated her captured wrist in a little twisting motion that Nat had taught her to break his grip and snatched his fingers instead. She gave them a gentle squeeze. “I have to get back to the lab. I’ll see you later, Cowboy.” Then she released his hand and left the cafeteria.

Chapter Text

Jack had a lot of strange dreams. One where he was chased by a hamburger that wanted to eat him. One time he thought he was in a regular meeting but when he looked down his suit was striped red and white like a candy cane. He was no stranger to weird shit. The thing that unnerves him about his dreams of late is how ordinary they are. On a Wednesday night in September, he dreamed he was lying beneath a beautiful sky on a picnic blanket with the scent of coffee that he knows came from a freshly uncapped thermos teasing his nose as he watched hawks coasting on the thermals high above. It was a good dream. But naturally the next night he dreamed that he went into a firefight with a nerf gun as his only weapon.

Still, he found himself craving coffee more than usual, which was why he was sitting in the cafeteria again with paperwork to do and a piping hot cup in his hand. There was no other reason. Just needed some coffee.

“Yo, Daniels!” Jack glanced up in time to see Barton sling himself into the chair opposite.

“Barton.” He gave the man a polite nod. The blond man grinned exuberantly and rubbed him hands together.

“You busy right now?” Jack flapped his files meaningfully, but Barton waved this aside. “I mean busy with anything that won’t keep ‘til later!” Jack raised an eyebrow and sipped his coffee.

“Coffee will go cold.” Barton laughed at him.

“So serious! Come on, man! I could really use a sparring partner.” Jack stood without hesitation. His coffee was only half finished, but he discarded it. It wouldn’t do to take a gut punch and spew out a bunch of coffee colored bile, and he is going to take a few punches. Barton is good. This should be fun.

“Let’s get a move on then. I confess I could use a good workout myself.”

They headed to the gyms, chatting politely along the way. It turned out they’d visited some of the same places over the years, and even had a few contacts in common. They were still arguing whether Old Lady Amaya who sold fruit on a street corner in Madrid was more reliable for intel than the weapons dealing Cortes family when they found a smaller unoccupied sparring room. Barton staked their claim to the room while Jack got changed into some heavy weave cotton pants and a white t-shirt. He and Barton carefully stowed their weapons on a side bench and began limbering up.

Barton had a good sense of humor and apparently knew all of the best places to get pizza or Thai food in the city. He regaled Jack with a story about a dust-up with a local gang that involved a yellow labrador, parkouring drug dealers, and an epic chase through a large restaurant kitchen. Jack returned with a tale of mistaken identities, someone sleeping with the wrong gangbanger’s lady, and an escape utilizing a poncho and a donkey.

They took their time warming up and exchanging slow combos. When they did finally bow to each other and begin fighting in earnest Jack found himself grinning. They were similarly matched in that they had little combat style to speak of, neither one belonging to a particular martial discipline.  Barton fought with a lot of acrobatics and rolls, rarely remaining still for long. Sometimes it was all Jack could do to swivel in place, defending himself from the energetic archer. But Jack was used to fighting like that, alone in the eye of a storm he created with his guns, whip, and knives. His movements were bigger, sweeping, with more power behind them. Barton sacrificed a strong combat base for speed and surprise, used to ambush tactics and distance combat.

Both men landed good hits that caused bruises to bloom across their skin. Sweat dripped and their breath came in heaving gulps as they battled. Neither one gained a significant advantage, and it was only a timer on Barton’s phone going off that forced them to stop. Both agents paused in the middle of the mat as an electronic chime split the air.

“You’re pretty fucking good, Cowboy.”

“Your reputation is well deserved, Barton.” They grinned at each other and clasped forearms. They could have kept going and settled the fight, but one of them would have ended up seriously injured in doing so. Barton turned off his alarm and sprawled bonelessly on the floor. Jack chugged half a bottle of water and splashed a little on his head to cool down. From the floor, Barton snickered.

“Planning on entering a wet t-shirt contest?” Jack also chuckled. Between the sweat and the water his shirt had gone translucent and stuck to his skin in places. He stretched languidly, rotating a shoulder that Barton had singled out for special attention.

“That was a good bout. Haven’t had one of them in a long time,” he sighed. Fighting someone at his level was different than marathoning bouts with people he had to hold back with to prevent serious injury. He had been able to really cut loose. It felt like some tension he had been carrying was gone.

“Yeah? Wanna do it again sometime?”

“I’d like that.” Jack dropped down onto the bench. “Are you mostly working for SHIELD or the Avengers these days?”

“I had to spend most of the summer with the Avengers because we were shorthanded. Usually, I split time more evenly.”

“So you’ll be around.”

“Yup.”

“Good,” Jack grunted as he raised his water bottle in salute to his opponent.

Jack attributed his continuing good mood the next day to an excellent sparring session with some credit given to a half-remembered dream involving skipping stones across the surface of a lake. He was cheerful enough that a member of Team Echo commented on it during the pre-mission briefing. Jack’s mask slammed down and stayed in place for the rest of the meeting.

The mission was to track down and recruit a scientist that was doing some really interesting things with electromagnets. It turned out there were some other parties interested in the scientist and her prototypes. They found the scientist and convinced her to come work for SHIELD. The tricky part was getting her out alive. The team was racing across the tiny college’s quad as hostiles fired at them. Jack and Opeyemi lagged behind to give the team cover fire as the others rushed the scientist to the extraction point. The wide-open space gave Jack the chance to use his whip.

He snared a man’s gun, cracked another across the face, swiveled to kick someone coming from his 3 o’clock. Opeyemi saw his work and gave a whoop. He retreated to cover Jack’s back as Jack created a whirlwind of devastating chaos. He called out warnings to Jack and took out more distant targets as they tried to advance on their position.

“We’re clear. Trucco will pick you up,” Albertsson told them over comms. A minute later a black SUV roared across the manicured landscaping. Jack and Opeyemi threw themselves into the back seat as Trucco peeled out to the harsh rattling of bullets against the vehicle’s body.

“Did you see fucking see that?” demanded Opeyemi.

“I saw. God Damn, Daniels! I’ve seen you spar in the gym, but I had no idea you could do all that with a whip!”

“Like Indiana Motherfucking Jones!”  Jack chuckled in response to Opeyemi’s praise, glad his practice came in handy.

At the end of the mission no was hurt beyond some bumps and bruises, and SHIELD had a brand new scientist. It was a good day’s work. Jack decided a drink would be a fine way to celebrate. He had booze back at his apartment, but he didn’t feel like going back and drinking by himself. Maybe Barton would have a good bar recommendation and be willing to join him? Jack texted Barton to ask if he was at SHIELD. Barton replied that he was in the shooting range.

After bidding Team Echo a polite goodnight and receiving several backslaps, Jack headed up to the range to find Barton. It was quiet that afternoon with only a few occupants. Jack went down the line looking for the blond archer. Barton was examining his spread on a target when Jack reached him. Today Barton wore a black t-shirt with Prince’s symbol on it in purple with black cargo pants. He had a small pistol on the shelf in front of him.

“Hey, what’s up, Cowboy?”

“Just off a mission. Everything went well so I-“ Jack went silent as a redheaded woman peered around the next shooting partition. It had been several years since he had been face to face with the Black Widow, at least this time there wasn’t an icy fog in the air screwing with visibility. He had known since he joined SHIELD that running into the Widow would likely happen sooner or later, and it had become a certainty when he was shifted to the New York office.

Instantly the air sharpened and other sounds faded away. Jack’s hand was at his waist where he had his knife strapped to his hip. Its hilt was a comforting shape against his palm as the Widow’s eyes met his. Death had lovely green eyes the color of peridots and full bee-stung lips, but then many brightly colored creatures in the animal kingdom were poisonous.

“Ah,” Barton swiveled to observe both of them. “I take it you’ve met.” The Widow’s head tipped to the side as she gave him a slow full-body scan. It felt weighty, clearly an evaluation.

“Yes, we have met. Last time I believe was Germany?” Evidently Jack wasn’t going to be shot where he stood, which was always a risk in these types of situations. He exhaled to calm his pounding heart. Wade through a firefight with no backup and only 2 spare clips of ammo? Sure, no problem! Face down a surprise appearance of the Black Widow herself? Fuck. He reached up and dipped his hat to her politely.

“That is correct, Ma’am. Lovely to see you again under more pleasant circumstances.” The Widow’s mouth jerked up and she gave a toss of her shoulder length red hair.

“Is it? You are very polite, Agent…”

“Jack Daniels, Ma’am. I joined SHIELD about six months back.” It went against every instinct he had to force his right hand away from the hilt of his knife so that he could extend it to her. He heard the smallest click as she put down whatever gun she had had aimed at him from behind the shooting partition. She shook his hand. The Black Widow had elegant hands like a concert pianist and must have used excellent lotion because Jack could barely detect any calluses.

“A recent addition. Your former employer didn’t mind?” Jack noted that she said employer singular. She might already know who he had been working for the last time they met. It wouldn’t surprise him.

“No. We reached an amicable partin’ of the ways.” Not, Jack thought. Though really in their line of work any employment that didn’t end with one party dead was fairly amicable. The Widow nodded.

“Their loss is SHIELD’s gain. Are you still as good of a shot?” He felt a jolt of pride. He was a damned good shot then and now.

“I’m flattered you remember,” he chuckled. She narrowed her eyes and gave him a vicious smile.

“We nearly killed each other in Munich,” she murmured. “That bears remembering.” He grinned wolfishly in response.

“Well now I definitely need to know this story!” Barton’s eyebrows were nearly to his hairline. Romanoff shrugged.

“Very little to say. I was hired to obtain a package, our objectives collided, we fought.”

“Hmf. We exchanged a few bullets, practically a friendly encounter,” Jack offered.

“One of those bullets gave me a haircut,” she said evenly.

“Just a sign of respect, Ma’am. Wouldn’t dare go for anything less than a headshot where you’re concerned.” Natasha Romanoff snorted and gave him a genuine smile.

“You are quite the charmer, Agent Daniels. Were you here to speak with Clint?”

“Yeah, like I was saying Barton, I just came off a mission and I was wondering if you wanted to grab a drink?”

“Hell yeah. Let me clean up first. Nat, I’ll see you later?”

“Naturally.” Romanoff nodded to Jack and returned to shooting. Barton tidied his spent rounds and chucked the used targets in the trash bin.

Barton took him to a great hole in the wall place where they didn’t play the game on TV too loud. The beer was good, though Barton needled him endlessly about not ordering a whiskey. They were seated near the rear exit at a little high-top table where they had a good view of all the other patrons and staff. Barton also did his best to interrogate him more about Germany. Jack dodged nimbly and set him to talking about other things. They discussed weaponry, sports teams, good hiking trails, and other agents.

“I’m technically assigned to Team Sierra right now, but I haven’t run an op with them in while.”

“Getting shuffled around a lot?” Jack nodded. “That’s ok. They’re trying to see where you’ll fit best. And a lot of the upper-level agents get thrown onto teams as backup and skill fillers.”

“I’m not graded as a senior agent.” Clint choked a little on his beer.

“No? Why- oh! It’s probably time with the agency. Skill wise, you probably make the grade for a senior, but they want to get a better sense of how you operate and make sure that you’re sticking around before they promote you.” Jack blinked and leaned back in his chair. He hadn’t thought of it that way before. He had had assumed that he had been judged and found lacking.

“So all of this shuffling isn’t necessarily a bad sign?”

“I doubt it. If you went toe to toe with Nat and survived it, then you’re definitely senior grade. They’re just trying to make the best use of their resources. Plus you’re all shiny and new so some of the teams have probably been putting in requests to work with you to see if you’d be a good addition. I heard you had a pretty legendary sparring marathon a few weeks back. It drew attention.”

Jack considered Barton’s words. The other agent had made some good points. Shopping Jack around before he settled in with one team or another made sense. He straightened a little at the thought that people had seen and remembered his sparring and wanted to work with him because of it.

“I suppose that does explain why I keep getting asked to lunch or coffee by different teams all of a sudden.” Barton bobbed his head.

“Shiny and new! Take advantage of it. If there’s a team that you work really well with, you can make a case with the handlers. Similarly, if there’s some you can’t work with, you should also let them know that too.”

“Why?” Jack demanded hotly. “To get branded as a troublemaker?” Barton paused with his beer halfway to his mouth.

“No…” he said slowly, giving Jack a gimlet eye. “Because they don’t want a mission blown while someone was debating someone else about the best way to do something or because agents actually came to blows. They’re not trying to set you up for failure. Team dynamics are an important consideration.”

Jack still felt heat in his face and neck. He didn’t want to get labeled as someone with subpar skills or a troublemaker again. He wouldn’t survive. You were only allowed so many mistakes in this business. He had already made one fatal error. He removed his hat and scrubbed a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. He needed allies to survive. Barton could be a good one. He had already been helpful in understanding some of the interdepartmental dynamics of SHIELD, and he was one hell of sparring partner.

His nose tingled with the phantom scent of coffee. There was someone else he wanted as an ally, someone who had already offered to be one, someone he already owed and needed to give reciprocal aid. Could Barton help him out with that issue as well? He replaced his hat and gave Barton a speculative look.

“I can hear your brain ticking over there. Feel like sharing with the class?”

“Say I had encountered some behavior I found troubling while I was working with a team, what would recommend I do about it?”

“Depends on the behavior, I guess. Are we talking war crimes level shit?” Jack snorted at Barton’s flight of fancy.

“No. Just… troubling.” He shifted uneasily. “How does SHIELD usually react to sexual harassment?” He had the privilege of seeing Barton completely dumbstruck. Barton opened his mouth and started to speak before shutting it again several times.

“That’s… really not what I expected you to say. Um, can you tell me what they’ve been doing or saying to you? Only if you’re comfortable…”

“What?” Jack shook his head in confusion. “No, not me!” He supposed that Barton would leap to all the wrong conclusions if he kept being so vague. He huffed. “Look. An agent I worked with made some unsavory remarks to female SHIELD employees, then I heard him say rather unflattering things about one of the employees to his teammates while on a mission. It didn’t sit well with me, so I brought it up to the team leader and they brushed me off.”

“Hmm. Has the agent done anything else? Like physically threatening?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Barton nodded.

“So just some verbal stuff then.” Jack felt some of his hope wither on the vine. Barton was going to brush him off just like Rumlow had done.

“Verbal ‘stuff’ matters too, Barton,” Jack growled.

“What?” Barton looked confused, then he frowned. “I know! I just mean that verbal harassment is harder to prove than a clear case of someone getting grabbed or sent threatening emails. Jesus man, what did you think I meant?!” The two men glared at each other for a moment before understanding filtered through. “Fuck that shit,” Barton enunciated clearly. “I don’t trust assholes like that. Too many people in our line of work think that because they’re tough that they’re entitled to something. Fuck that!”

Jack let out a long sigh and all of the tension oozed from him.

“Couldn’t fucking agree more.”

“So you’re trying to get them disciplined?”

“I don’t know. I don’t approve of that kind of attitude in someone I’m trusting with my life. I suppose I could let someone in HR know that I’d rather not work with that person again, but that only fixes it from my angle. What I want to know is if this agent has a track record of this behavior. A fella can say stupid shit sometimes and maybe all he needs is for someone to call him out on it, but a repeat offender is different. The attitude of the team leader worried me too. Maybe all this agent does is make someone uncomfortable, but maybe he escalates without anyone to check him. That’s why I was asking about harassment at SHIELD in general. Some places don’t take this kind of thing seriously and let problems grow.” Barton took a healthy swig of his beer.

“Nah. SHIELD doesn’t like that shit. I honestly don’t know about any kind of reporting system though.” His eyes lit with mischief. “It’s possible that we could take care of it ourselves.” Jack shook his head.

“I’ve called him out on it when I saw it happening, but it’s not like I can be there every time.”

“Give me a name and we can get more intel about this guy’s behavior. It could be that other people have seen things too. If it’s a continuing problem we should report him.”

It made sense. Barton had been with SHIELD for years. Maybe he had worked with Malkovich before, maybe he had seen things he had dismissed before. He had strong interpersonal connections that could be used to get more information. Still, Jack hesitated. Darcy and Barton were friendly. Jack didn’t want Barton talking to her about it and potentially making her uncomfortable as she was Malkovich’s target.

“I don’t want this conversation to go beyond us.” Barton frowned and shook his head.

“I can’t promise that. What if it turns out this guy’s an actual monster?”

“You’ve likely interacted with one person I know he’s harassed. I don’t want you talking to them about it. They have the right to be totally anonymous.” Barton scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Unless that person is Natasha, I doubt I would. She’s the one I was planning on asking.” Jack blinked. The fucking Black Widow? “Look, Nat likes gossip. She doesn’t spread it, she just collects it. Hoards it like a dragon. She enjoys hearing about all the petty feuds and drama as a kind of stress relief. If this agent has been messing with anyone else Nat will know, or she can find out discreetly.”

He considered it for another minute. The Black Widow had a stellar reputation as an assassin, spy, and intelligence broker. He just never thought about her as a regular person who enjoyed listening to water cooler chit chat for fun. It made sense in a way, she probably collected information about everyone automatically due to her training, so why shouldn’t she like listening to the small stuff for fun?

“Malkovich on Team Sierra.”

“I’ve worked with Team Sierra before, but I never noticed anything,” Barton said ponderously. “I’ll ask Nat if she’s got anything on him. We can also keep a sharp eye on him in the meantime.” He whipped out his phone and fired off a text. Jack was impressed at the speed and dexterity of Barton’s texting.

“Hang on, Team Sierra’s leader is Brock, right? You talked to him about this already?”

“Yeah,” Jack answered heavily. “Rumlow laughed it off and said that Malkovich was just joking around and repeating some frequently heard gossip.”

“That tracks. Rumlow is a little old school sometimes. I can see him shrugging it off if the behavior wasn’t violent.”

They got another round of beers while they talked about some of missions Jack had already been on with Team Sierra. Jack assumed that the night was winding down and that he wouldn’t get any further information about Malkovich. He was proved wrong halfway through his second beer when Barton’s phone buzzed. He read it out.

“Hmm. Nat says she was aware that Malkovich is a scuzzball. Apparently, it’s common for him to make passes at female coworkers and then get a little nasty about them if they turn him down. She says she doesn’t think he’s dangerous, but she’ll do a little digging to be sure.”

Another knot of tension loosened in Jack’s chest. Lewis wasn’t likely to be in danger from Malkovich then. Good. It still left Jack not wanting to trust his life to Malkovich or Rumlow, but perhaps he could drop a hint about Malkovich’s inappropriate behavior when he talked to HR about his team placement, as Barton had suggested. And the motherfucking Widow herself was going to do a little digging. If the man had skeletons in his closet Natasha Romanoff would find them.

“Thank you, Clint,” Jack said quietly, looking the other man in the eye. Clint raised his eyebrows a little and smiled.

“No problem.”  He tipped his chair back and somehow managed to balance himself on a single leg. “In return you could tell me about meeting Nat in Germany?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

"There really isn’t much more I can say. I was guarding a package, Romanoff went to retrieve the package, and there was a small scuffle. She nicked me a few times, and I got some good shots off. In the end she made off with the package and I wasn’t allowed to pursue. That’s it.” Clint gave a soft whistle across the top of his beer bottle at Jack’s calm recitation.

“Bleh. Boring! At least give me something interesting!” Jack chuckled and shook his head at the blond man’s antics. “How about Darcy then?” Jack froze and then consciously made the effort to unfreeze.

“What about Lewis?”

“Did you decide about letting her add you to the club?”

“I am currently working on my entrance fee.” Clint goggled at him.

“Wha? Darcy doesn’t charge anything!” Jack returned his confusion with a leveling look.

“Nothing for nothing, Clint. If I’m going to be getting involved with her, I need to pay my way first.”

“Well that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! Friendships don’t work that way. And even so, Darcy don’t work that way!” Jack’s only response was to take another sip of beer. He didn’t want to argue with Clint about this, but evidently Clint felt differently. He lowered his voice that had grown overexcited and loud. “Darcy enjoys baking for people and giving them pick-me-ups when they’re not doing so good. All you need to do is let her. That’s all she wants from you!”

That might not be all. Lewis called me ‘hot’ after all, and said I made her brain misbehave when I wore my glasses. Friendship might not be the only thing Darcy Lewis wants from me. What if she wanted something a little different? Something involving me putting my hands all over her and finding out if any of that lip stuff she wears is flavored?

God, what a thought. What an incredibly delicious, enticing thought. Sex with Lewis would be amazing, he just knew it.

But if I’m getting fussed over when I’m injured, given water after long spars, homemade baked goods, and potentially sex, what do I need to do in return? What the fuck could I give Darcy Lewis that a mile long line of guys wouldn’t gladly give her?

It was a thought that kept repeating in his head since that day in the cafeteria when he first became aware that Lewis found him attractive. He had long since thought her pretty, intelligent, and confusing. If she offered, he would very much like to have sex with her, but what could he give in return? Answers were sparse: good sex (he prided himself on being an above-average partner), a willing ear?

Not enough. Never enough.

The man he had been might have been able to add to the balance sheet. That man might have taken her dancing, cooked her breakfast in the morning after a long night in bed, and comforted her when life went to shit. But that man was dead. Jack was all that was left. A shell. He might look the same as that man, but he knew the difference. Agent Whisky had been charismatic, jovial, a good dancer, excellent fighter, funny, good at making friends, and always up for an adventure. That man would have flirted eagerly with Darcy Lewis from the second they met. He would have made her laugh. That man might have been deserving of something more with her. Not Jack. Jack had fucked up and nearly gotten a ton of people killed. Jack didn’t do things because they were fun or an adventure. No wild nights of dancing, drinking, and flirting. No days of striding into battle confidently with reliable comrades at his side and Ginger’s voice in his ear advising him. Just a shell was left. An empty thing where that man used to be. His own ability to fight is the only thing remaining to him, all else is just a fragile camouflage pulled on to cover the gaping hole.

Darcy Lewis deserved a whole man. Darcy Lewis would have liked Agent Whisky. Agent Whisky is dead. All that’s left is a weapon named Jack. But Lewis is an adult. If she decides that she can sleep with a blade in her bed rather than a man, that’s her business. If she decides that the weapon is worth maintaining, and given some measure of value, then that’s also her business. A weapon has little say in such matters, but the weapon can be of service.

So that is what Jack will do. He will make himself useful. Starting with dealing with Malkovich. It’s all he has left to give.

“The world doesn’t work that way, Clint. You can’t expect someone to keep giving you nice things for free. Debts gotta be paid.”

Jack’s voice was slightly hoarse as though he hadn’t spoken in a long time. Clint had watched Jack sip his beer and wrestle to put his thoughts in order. His eyes looked darker than earlier and small lines of tension had appeared around his eyes and mouth. His posture was tight and defensive with his arms crossed over his torso and a hand gripping his beer bottle too tight. Yeah, someone had done a number on Jack Daniels, maybe lots of someones. Darcy would help with that, Clint had decided. Darcy had been a good influence on him and Nat and Steve. She was good with people who had been through tough shit.

“Letting Darcy be your friend doesn’t incur a debt. She doesn’t want to use your abilities or knowledge to her advantage or any shady shit like that. I’ve been friends with her for years now and she has never taken advantage.” Clint scoffed. “Closest she’s come is asking me to plant a glitter bomb in Tony’s workshop vent.” This comment startled Jack and some of his posture loosened.

“What the hell?”

“Big prank war last year. Tony accidentally launched Darcy’s laptop into the pool and destroyed some of the stuff on it. He replaced it, but she was still pissed. She swore dire revenge and planted glitter, goo, and paint bombs everywhere.” Remembering Tony’s face covered in sparkly slime after he had opened one of his toolboxes was a priceless memory. Clint giggled. “Eventually peace terms were negotiated, but it still took Tony weeks to get the glitter out of everything.” Poor Jack looked so confused and unsure how to respond.

“All I’m saying is that Darcy isn’t going to ask you to go shoot someone or steal the nuclear football. It’s just not her style.” Jack still looked unconvinced, but Clint decided to drop the issue for the moment. Darcy would win him over eventually as long as Jack didn’t put up too much of a fight.

He changed the subject to what cities had the best barbeque, thinking that the cowboy would likely have strong opinions. He was right, and debating the best sources of regional foods carried them through the rest of their beers. Clint waved Jack a good night and headed to his apartment in Avengers Tower.

He found Nat waiting for him in the common room. She had a faint glimmer of a smile on her face. It got Clint’s blood flowing because it usually heralded something fun. They headed back to his rooms and Nat placed an anti-eavesdropper device on his living room table. Clint grabbed a glass of water from his kitchenette before flopping onto the plush couch.

“What’s the smile for Nat? You can’t be that happy to see little old me.” Natasha folded herself elegantly into a chair, crossing her legs, and widening her smile.

“You are correct. I have something truly interesting to share. During our last team dinner you were playing video games with Thor and Tony when Darcy admitted to having a crush on someone.” Clint sat up and glared at Nat, hurt at being left out.

“Why haven’t I heard about this?” Natasha shrugged.

“She did not want to admit it at first. I think it’s very new.” Her smile was worthy of the Cheshire Cat. “But the truly interesting thing is that we know him.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed. Your new friend Jack Daniels.” Clint collapsed back on the couch with a loud whistle.

“She couldn’t have picked a normal person this time? Like someone who works at her favorite craft store or something?”

“We both know Darcy hasn’t qualified as a normal person for years, why should she want someone who is?

“Fair.”

“At least she has decent taste.”

“What makes you say that? I thought you barely knew Daniels.”

“Our most recent encounter was several years ago now, but I have had other close calls with him and his old agency. I have made an effort to gather information on him over time. He is too dangerous to ignore.”

“And how exactly does that make him good for Darcy?”

“I didn’t say that it did. I was surprised to realize that the cowboy Darcy likes is the same person as your new sparring partner… and the former Agent Whisky.”

“Holy shit!” Clint stared at Nat in disbelief, despite knowing full well that his partner would never joke about such a thing. “Statesmen. Damn. That is some high caliber shit.” Nat nodded.

“Yes. He is an exceptional operative, in addition to being handsome and well dressed, which is more than we can say of some of Darcy’s exes.” Clint cracked up a bit. Darcy usually had good reason for dating the people she did, but presentation was rarely her first priority. “He also has a good reputation for being a decent human being as well.” Now that was a priority for Darcy. It was also a welcome surprise to Clint; most people in their line of work were not there because they were fluffy puppy dogs. Operatives could span a wide gamut from morally grey to outright psychopaths. Clint didn’t suspect Jack of being that bad, but hearing from Nat that he had a reputation for being decent was excellent confirmation.

“Well, at least that answers a few questions I had about my new buddy’s past and spawns about a hundred more. Jack Daniels AKA Agent Whisky of Statesmen, now Agent of SHIELD. And Darcy admitted he likes him?”

“Yes, after some prodding. She cares about his wellbeing.”

“Oops.” Nat raised her eyebrows. Clint shrugged. “I may have given Daniels bad intel. Darcy’s been giving him bottles of water almost every time they run into each other, so I said that Darcy does that to people she’s friends with and therefore she must want to be friends with Daniels.” Natasha chuckled.

“She does try to take care of people, especially people she likes. She just also happens to want to sleep with him.” Clint grimaced.

“I told him that being friends with Darcy is like joining a weird club. He had a very odd reaction to the idea that Darcy wanted to be friends with him, and tonight he was talking about paying for it. I think he’s a bit messed up, Nat.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean I want my friend dating someone like us,” Clint grumbled. Nat leaned forward to pat his knee reassuringly.

“Darcy is far braver and stronger than most give her credit for. Perhaps Agent Daniels will see her value, perhaps he won’t. All we can do is watch and wait.”

“You’re already planning something,” he chuckled. “Aren’t you?”

“You know me too well.”

Chapter Text

Darcy hadn’t seen Agent Daniels in over a week when she ran into him again outside the armory. No, literally ran into him, which was just her sort of luck.

Her body made a heavy thump sound as she turned a corner at speed and ran into someone. Whoever they were, they were solid. Damn all these agents and superhero types running around here! Her brain had time to reminisce on the good old days when she could run into someone and they both would be sent flying, now alas, it was only her who was falling backwards with the grace of a newborn giraffe.

But she didn’t hit the ground. An arm had whipped around her lower back. Time became molasses slow as she glimpsed who had saved her a bruised ass. Jack Daniels. Naturally. He had an adorable look of bewilderment in his big brown eyes as he leaned over her. For a moment she was balanced on one foot with her upper torso at an absurd angle as Daniels held her. Darcy felt her heart thud painfully against her ribs just once before he brought them both upright. Then Darcy was standing in a SHIELD hallway with Jack Daniel’s arm around her, pressed close enough to him that she could smell amber and cedar. Sigh. Best day ever.

Then Daniels stepped back and dropped his arm. Voices echoed up the hall, bringing her sharply back to reality.

“Lewis. What-“

“Quick! Hide me!” Daniels pivoted his body so that he blocked Darcy from view of people coming up the hallway. He put one hand on the wall and the other flew to his hip, creating a shield of his jacket that hide her from view until the two men had passed them by. Darcy and Daniels stared at them until they turned the corner, disappearing from view.

She sighed in relief and looked up at Daniels, intending to thank him, but the words died on her lips. He was looking at her with an inscrutable expression. He really shouldn’t look so dreamy just standing there.

“Mind fillin’ me in, Lewis?” he drawled. He remained with one hand braced against the wall by her head, blocking her exit on two sides. As if I’d actually want to escape! She had never wanted to move less.

“Umm, I really didn’t want to talk to Tavish again today?”

“And who is Tavish?”

“Obviously one of the guys who just went by,” she snarked. He raised an eyebrow cooly. “Fine,” she sighed. “It’s this guy who works in HR who is allergic to anything fun. He considers himself the wardrobe police.” She plucked at her t-shirt. “He would undoubtedly find this inappropriate and give me another lecture about workplace attire.”

Her black t-shirt said ‘it has been 0 days since the last Jurassic Incident’ and had a little cartoon dinosaur eating stick figures on it. She thought it was hilarious and so had most of the other scientists she had seen today. Now that she was staring up at the dapper cowboy in his navy blue suit and tie, she slightly regretted her chosen outfit of a funny t-shirt, long cardigan, and jeans.

Daniels gave her an obvious once over. His direct attention was her stomach squirm. A corner of his mouth twitched up.

“So you ran away from him?”

“No! I proceeded with haste in the opposite direction.” Now both corners of his mouth twitched but he was clearly making an effort at keeping a straight face. His brown eyes were warm.

“Lewis, you are somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I am well aware.” Darcy rolled her eyes. “Everyone has their theories, so go ahead, what am I, Cowboy?”

“Cute,” he responded instantly. Darcy gaped up at him as the world did a record scratch. Did he just? Holy Shit! She straightened to her full height and tilted her chin up in challenge. It put her face mere inches from his. She smiled like a cat that ate the canary.

“Why, Cowboy, are you flirting with me?” His eyes narrowed and his tongue peaked out to moisten his lips.

“Could be,” his voice deepened the slightest bit. “That a problem, Lewis?” Darcy bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep herself from screeching ‘hell no’.

“That depends, are you going to keep calling me ‘Lewis’ all the time?” A mischievous smirk claimed his face and called forth the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

“Any other problems, Darcy?” Their faces were really too close for a casual conversation. Darcy felt like she was about to lose her mind.

“No,” she breathed. “Jack-“

A cacophony of voices suddenly filled the hall as the door to one of the nearby meeting rooms swung open to disgorge at least 20 SHIELD employees. Darcy and Jack both flinched back. Darcy was glad she had worn her hair loose so that she could use it as a curtain to hide her blush from the passersby. It took several minutes for the hallway to empty again. She took it as an opportunity to catch her breath and try to calm her racing thoughts. What should I say? Did we almost kiss just now? What the hell happens now?

Jack had his face turned to the side, blank and impassive, watching the last of the people leave the area.

“So… do you wanna go get some coffee?” Ah yes, when in doubt fall back on the classics. He refocused on her.

“I-“ Jack checked his watch and visibly winced. “Shit! The meeting - I- “ His eyes danced between her and the watch, clearly torn. Darcy sagged a little. Clearly there was not going to be a makeout session or coffee date this afternoon.

“It’s fine, go on.” She flapped her hand in a shooing gesture. At least this was something she had a lot of practice with. Jack looked pained.

“Are you sure?” No, please stay here and kiss me.

“Yes! I’m not about to ask you to miss your meeting. Now, shoo!”

He went, leaving Darcy leaning against the wall. But when he reached the blind corner that Darcy had come from, he turned to look back at her. Darcy grinned and waggled her fingers at him. A trace of that smirk returned as Jack tugged at the brim of his hat in salute before disappearing.

Ridiculous. And old fashioned. Sigh. And I really, really, like it when he does that. I’m hopeless.

Damn it! Jack cursed all the way to his meeting.

He had been hoping to get a better resolution on the Malkovich Situation before engaging with Lewis again. Clint had told him that Darcy wouldn’t ask him to use his skills for anything serious or dangerous, but it’s what he’s best at these days. It’s all that he has to offer. Despite Clint’s words at the bar, Jack had been turning the problem of reciprocity over in his head. The equation comes out wrong every time. Darcy was funny, pretty, intelligent, good with computers, good with people, baked, knit, and had many friends. Jack was an attractive man who was very good at fighting. What could he bring to the table that would be worth her?

Nothing.

If Darcy needed battles fought, she had the Avengers. She didn’t need Jack. Unless she wanted his well-trained body for other reasons... and he was amenable to that. Maybe she needed an itch scratched? He could handle that much for her. He could engage in a physical relationship with Darcy, but any more than that was not something he was capable or deserving of.

With all that said, he had still wanted to have fixed something or done something useful by the time he saw her next. As per their past interactions, Darcy Fucking Lewis defied expectations. She ran straight into his arms, and Jack wasn’t strong enough to resist teasing her. She was too damned cute in her funny t-shirt with that smile on her face! Any reservations he’d had about getting involved with Darcy had faded when he felt the air between them start sizzling.

Then a door had popped open and the window of opportunity had slammed shut. If he hadn’t been running late to a meeting already, he would have stayed to get coffee or get kissed, whichever she felt like.

Damn and double damn. It sure would have been better than this.

He sat trapped in a too-small meeting room while different people debated minute mission details that they would likely have to scrap the second boots hit the ground. That was just the way things worked. Plans fell apart as new factors came into play. Team Lima was a very junior team full of young agents. Jack was certain that apart from Agent Cole, the team leader, he was the oldest person in the room with the most time in field. The younger agents wanted to plan out every second. Agent Cole seemed to be permitting it as a way to help them get over pre-mission jitters, but it was slowly driving Jack insane.

Statesmen didn’t have nearly the number of field agents that SHIELD did. They operated alone or in small teams. Jack used to like working with his buddy Tequila, but they had parted ways after his revival. Ginger had still been his handler, but she wasn’t a field agent. He had been a one-man army on missions for the past couple of years. Going from that level of autonomy to SHIELD’s bureaucracy and multi-agent teams was an unpleasant adjustment.

Finally, he couldn’t take anymore.

“Listen, y’all can plan as much as you like, but it won’t mean a thing when things start to go wrong.” The other agents froze and stared at him as though he had truly lost it.

“He has a point,” Cole told them. She waved a hand at Jack. “Tell them.” Great, now I feel like the mean parent, Jack thought as he looked at the baby agents.

“Plans,” he told them slowly, “are essentially thought exercises. We can plan for the best-case scenarios and hope that the mission is carried out in that manner. We can even plan for a few of the worst-case scenarios, but in the end plans will only get you so far. There is just no way of predicting everything that will happen and trying to do it will drive you crazy.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” wailed a brunette agent who favored blue pens and paper notebooks.

“You make a solid general plan, come up with contingency points, and make sure everyone has a complete picture of all roles and objectives, then respond to the situation as it develops.” The baby agents looked so lost. Like a bunch of moon-eyed calves. Jack sighed and resigned himself to teaching the team how to adapt on the fly.

Far, far later in the afternoon Jack slumped in his seat after the younger agents had left the meeting room.

“Christ, I feel old,” he muttered.

“I know. They get younger every year,” Cole chuckled. “Thanks for leading that impromptu seminar. I think they found it helpful.” Jack wanted to ask why the hell Agent Cole or someone else training the younger agents hadn’t done it already then, but he kept his mouth shut. Training younger agents wasn’t his job, but he also didn’t want the kids rushing out unprepared.

The mission was two days later. A few things did go wrong, but the group planning and strategy session had neatly covered all but one of the issues. The final straw was when one of the agents exited the warehouse targeted for being part of a weapons smuggling operation. They had to go through a back alley where someone had knocked over the dumpster of the neighboring Chinese restaurant. The agent, Bardot, escaped to the extraction point without a scratch, but had clumps of noodles and chili sauce stuck to their tactical vest in humorous clumps. Jack managed to wait before they were all safely on their way before bursting into laughter.

“See! No one could have predicted that!” All the other agents cracked up, even noodle covered Agent Bardot.

Darcy has been on cloud nine for the last three days. It was starting to get annoying. Even Jane, to whom human moods were a source of constant confusion, had started to look at her sideways as though suspecting a psychotic break. Darcy had been relentlessly chirpy and refused to say why.

Because it’s not a big deal. Nothing happened really.

To other people, getting called by their first name and then not kissed would be nothing special. Those people don’t have an outsized crush on Jack Daniels. She shouldn’t be this excited over a thing that almost (but didn’t) happen. Clint and Tony would tease her mercilessly if they knew. Jane, Thor, and Steve would be excited and supportive. Natsha and Bruce would fail to see what all the fuss was about.

It’s too soon to tell them anything, she decided. If there was one thing she could count on her friends for, it was having ridiculously over the top reactions. The last thing she needed was Thor popping by SHIELD to congratulate Jack on joining the family and scaring him off before it had even begun. And yes, that did happen once. Thankfully it had been at a university where Jane was a guest lecturer for a semester, and Darcy had only been on one date with the cute sociology PHD student.

Agent Daniels was probably a lot tougher than that student, but Darcy didn’t want to test that so soon, especially given Jack’s issues. When she first met him, she thought he was a cranky weirdo, but now she realized that it had been an anxious reaction to not having his weapons. Jack was tightly wound even for a spy. Borderline paranoid. He didn’t seem to feel safe letting down his guard at SHIELD or with his colleagues. There were also those times when he seemed completely disconnected, lights on but no one home. Disassociated. Darcy knew a trauma response when she saw one. She was friends with too many Avengers not to.

That’s another reason she didn’t want to push too hard too fast. Anyone else she might have already dragged off to a quiet corner to test out that chemistry she felt burn between them, but she couldn’t do that with Jack. It might be fine. It might not. It might trigger something and it would really suck to get carried away and wind up stabbed instead of kissed. She had made her interest known but now Jack had to decide if he wanted to take her up on it.

It felt like he had made his decision in that hallway. But she still had to wait for him to make a move.

Darcy hated waiting. It made her anxious. That was part of the reason that the Avengers usually came home from a long battle to piles of baked goods lining the countertops. Baking gave her something constructive to do that took up her time and attention. It also produced delicious treats that her tired and sometimes hurt friends could eat and feel better.

What kind of treats would Jack like? Classic chocolate chip cookies? Salted caramel bars? Blueberry scones? What if he didn’t like sweet things?! A sliver of panic pricked her. Maybe nuts then? Almond croissants? The panic began to balloon. Maybe he wasn’t a baked goods person at all. She might need to learn how to make ice cream. What if he doesn’t like anything she makes? The panic took over, sending her thoughts reeling through recipe books and Pinterest boards.

All of her excitement and cheer had flipped. Her energy transmuted into fear. Every doubt loomed large. Darcy dropped the laundry she had been folding on her bed and made a beeline to the kitchen. Her brain wanted to sabotage everything. Call it off before she got hurt. Avoid Daniels and every complication he presented. Find someone safe, someone boring, someone who like sugar cookies, someone she didn’t care so much about. A bag of flour hit the countertop and she began to measure out cups into a large mixing bowl.

Darcy made two batches of cookies before Steve found her.

“Darce? What are you doing?”

“Baking.”

“At 11:30 at night?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know what kind of cookie he likes!” Her voice broke slightly at the end. Her chin quivered as Steve slid around the countertop to put his arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, come on. I’m sure he’ll like whatever you make him,” he told her softly. She glared down at the butter that hadn’t softened enough and was making her dough lumpy.

“You can’t know that! You don’t even know who I’m talking about!” She whipped her wooden spoon against the side of the bowl to try to beat out the lumps.

“I don’t have to. You make the best cookies! And if he doesn’t like them, then he’s an idiot.” He snatched the spoon from her hand and stole a bite of cookie dough. “More for me!” Darcy giggled wetly.

“He’s not an idiot though. Maybe he’s just not a dessert person.” Steve cocked his head at her.

“Do you know that? Or are you just guessing?” Darcy stayed silent. “Darce,” he chided. “You and I both know you couldn’t possibly be happy with someone who doesn’t appreciate a good desert every now and again. If he doesn’t, then it’s not meant to be.” Darcy inhaled and exhaled sharply. Steve tossed the dirty spoon into the sink and wrapped her up in a hug that strained the ribs.

“I don’t know,” she whispered into his chest.

“So ask him.” Darcy groaned at the suggestion. The man had barely answered what kinds of animals he liked. If she asked him about food he might start to think she wanted to poison him. “Or ask someone who knows him.” She perked up.

“That’s... not a bad thought.” She didn’t know who he was friendly enough with to know the answer, but Darcy knew people who knew how to get information discreetly. She wasn’t about to violate Jack’s privacy by getting a full background check, but favorite foods? That seemed harmless enough.

“Thanks, Stevie. I got a little bit… in my own head.” Steve looked at the finished cookies and the lumpy dough.

“Yeah, I can see that.” It happened sometimes. Darcy’s thoughts would spiral out of control and her anxieties took over. She would obsess over something small until it became a bigger problem than it actually was. Steve had seen her do it more than once. It’s almost funny because Darcy can handle being in the middle of a disaster without freaking out too badly, but tell her she needs to wait for something? Boom. Her brain will explode with horrible possibilities and worst case scenarios. Jane called it catastrophizing. Jane would shut it down by being ruthlessly logical. Steve tended towards a more gentle approach.

“Want to talk about it?” Sweet, sweet Stevie.

 “I want to, just not yet.” She gave him an apologetic smile. Steve just nodded and helped her clean up and pack the cookies away. Then Darcy put herself to bed.

She brought some of the cookies in to work and left them in the break room nearest her office.  A little note on the top listed the ingredients in case someone was allergic to something. Her scientists were used to baked goods mysteriously appearing for no reason and thought nothing of it. Jane was not one of her run of the mill scientists however. Jane has been Darcy’s best friend for years. She scrutinized the proffered cookies.

“There wasn’t an Avengers call out last night,” she stated. Jane sipped at her coffee with her arms crossed, waiting for Darcy to answer the unasked question.

“No. My brain went kablooey over something trivial.” Darcy chomped happily on her double fudge chunk. Jane nodded and didn’t ask more. She knew that Darcy would gladly talk about it if it was something she actually wanted discuss. Darcy fidgeted restlessly, shifting from foot to foot. It felt wrong not to spill the beans to Jane about the almost hallway kiss. She knew Jane enjoyed hearing Darcy’s tales of singledom.

“I’m meeting Natasha for lunch later,” Darcy blurted. “Want to come?”

“Sure.”

They left the SHIELD campus a little before noon and walked a few blocks to a Spanish tapas restaurant. Nat had already secured a table and was waiting for them. She raised her eyebrows at Jane’s presence as Darcy hadn’t mentioned bringing her along when they had been texting that morning. They barely had time to exchange greetings before the server came. They had been there before and knew what was good so they placed food and drink orders simultaneously. As the server departed Darcy clapped her hand in front of her.

“Right! Let’s get down to business. Earlier this week I almost kissed Agent Daniels.” Both women raised their eyebrows at her. “I’ve been talking and flirting with him for a while now, and I think I’ve finally made progress,” Darcy continued, practically vibrating with energy. Natasha held up a finger to stop her.

“You are referring to Jack Daniels?” Darcy nodded. Nat’s face split into a satisfied smile. “How very interesting!” She is waaaaay too excited about this. I feel I great disturbance in the Force.

“Yes, well this is why I was making cookies last night,” she explained to Jane. “I’ve been trying to get him to open up with very little success. I freaked out a little last night because I realized I don’t know a lot details about him, like if he even likes cookies.” She turned back to Natasha. “That’s why I offered to buy you lunch. I need intel.” Nat looked impossibly smug. Jane nodded along. “I don’t need like, a crazy in-depth background check. I just want some stuff that’ll help me move things along, like what food does he enjoy, does he have any activities he enjoys outside of work that might make a good date? That kind of stuff.”

“Oh but I know far more about him than that, Milaya,” Nat purred.

“Wait, you do?” demanded Jane as the waiter arrived with their food and began setting plates on the table. “How?” Nat waited until the waiter left.

“I was aware of him long before he joined SHIELD.” She dangled the bait before them and dug into her food.

“Why didn’t you say so when you all were teasing me about him at game night?”

“I didn’t yet have confirmation that the Agent Daniels you mentioned was the Jack Daniels I knew of.”

“But how do you know him?” Jane insisted doggedly. Nat gave the scientist a sharp smile.

“I’m sure you can name many other prominent astrophysicists. Spies are much the same.”

“But you’re-“ Jane lowered her voice. “You’re the Black Widow! There are thousands of spies, you can’t know them all!”

“I didn’t say that I did. But I do keep track of those who operate at similar levels,” she was studying Darcy closely. Darcy calmly ate a piece of bread. Nat nodded. “You were already aware.”

“I had my suspicions. I’ve seen him fight. He’s good, like, Clint good. But no one seems to know where he came from. He just popped up out of nowhere. Usually, if someone comes to SHIELD from one of the other government agencies it becomes water cooler gossip. But no one knows where Jack transferred from.” There was a long pause.

“Are you going to ask me where he’s from?” Testing. Everything with Nat was a test. It made casual friendship a bit difficult sometimes.

“No,” Darcy sighed. “I already told him that that was his business. It might not even be safe for me to know. If he wants to tell me someday, that’s great, but we’re not there yet.” Some of the tension leaked from the air. There was no noticeable change in Nat’s posture, but something had eased.

“A wise decision. I will at least tell you that he did work for the interests of the United States, not another country.” Darcy shrugged at this. She supposed that crossing borders and allegiances could be difficult, but it happened way more than most people thought. The real trick was not getting discovered, arrested, or assassinated after the switch was made. In point of fact, Nat had changed her allegiances from the Soviet Union to the U.S. and here she sat. Darcy didn’t think she would have had a problem with it even if Jack had worked for another country.

“Well I want to know where he’s from!” Jane stated hotly. “And his birthdate, bloodtype-“

“Janie!” Darcy whined. “You think I don’t want to know that stuff? I do! But spies are a sensitive bunch, and Jack seems more sensitive than most. If I go behind his back  I could ruin everything!”

“Or perhaps he would respect you more for it,” offered Nat. Darcy glared at her.

“Don’t make this difficult! And don’t tell Jane anything that’s not her business to know.”

“As your best friend, I reserve the right to interrogate him and anyone I can find to see if he’s a good guy!”

“I’ll save you the trouble, he’s not!” The table fell abruptly silent in the wake of Darcy’s declaration. Jane and Nat had been knocked speechless, an incredible rarity. “He’s not,” Darcy repeated softly. “Probably not in the way you’d measure it, Janie. He’s a high-level agent, and that means he’s definitely lied, cheated, seduce, killed, stolen, and a whole list of other things that generally disqualify him form being labelled ‘good’.” She regarded Natasha carefully. “That doesn’t make him a truly evil person, unworthy of caring about someone or being cared about. And I do, care about him, that is.” There was another long pause.

“I’m not happy about this,” Jane grumbled. Darcy sighed.

“Yeah well, remember how many times Erik warned you that there was something weird about Thor before we found out about the whole alien prince thing?”

“The heart wants what the heart wants,” Nat stated quietly. Darcy winced. It was uncomfortable to think about hearts getting involved so soon, but Nat knew her too well. Darcy didn’t do things half-assed.

“So… will you give me some harmless info about him?” Nat tossed her a smirk.

Darcy left lunch that day knowing that Jack liked chunky peanut butter, drank dark roast coffee with a bit of sugar, enjoyed dancing and horseback riding, went to music festivals, and often carried concealed weapons on his person or tucked into his hat.

“In case you decide to get handsy, Milaya,” Nat had offered her with a saucy grin. Darcy had flushed and waved off the parting short thinking that she likely could have guessed that one on her own. Clint and Nat frequently carried hidden blades and other dangerous items. Darcy had once run afoul of Clint’s throwing stars when rifling through his pockets to get to his phone after he had taken embarrassing photos of her drooling in her sleep.

Weapons in his hat? That’s a new one though.

Chapter Text

Jack was having a surprisingly good day. He had finally made the dreaded trip to HR to discuss future team placements. He had cited ‘differences of opinion’ when he told the HR lady that he preferred not to be placed with Team Sierra. The elderly woman whose nameplate read ‘Gladys Everbright’ had pursed her lips and stated that it was a poor reason. Jack had barred his teeth.

“Not if you knew the opinions being discussed, Ma’am.” Everbright had given him an unimpressed look at this show of temper but said that she would note the preference in his file and that it would be considered when assigning him to a permanent team.

All in all, not as bad as Jack had thought it would be. With the unpleasant task taken care of in less time than he’d allotted for it, he found time to go down to R&D. A meeting invite had gone out office-wide to view the testing of a new targeting device. Jack went even though he rarely used weaponry big enough to take down multiple targets. It had nothing to do with the fact that R&D was where he had first encountered Darcy Lewis and was near to her office. He definitely hadn’t looked up her office location either. It would be a complete coincidence if he should happen to run into her again. Definitely.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t there. He swallowed the small disappointment and followed half a dozen other people in the direction of the nearest breakroom. He had heard one of the scientists claim that their breakroom was the best in the building as they exited the weapons test. Jack had snorted and wondered why one identical corporate breakroom would be any different from another.

He was swiftly forced to revise that opinion; the breakroom on this floor came with homemade cookies. He got himself a coffee and bit into something that had been labelled a ‘cinnamon walnut swirl’. It was deliciously chewy and the cinnamon went well with his coffee. The damn thing was gone in three bites.

“Darcy always makes the best shit!” One of the scientists he had followed proclaimed loudly.

“No kidding. Remember those maple cinnamon buns she made last spring? My wife’s been trying to replicate them ever since!”

Jack hovered by the cookies, staring at the little handwritten sticky notes that gave allergen warnings. That was what her handwriting looked like then. He admired the loopy shape that made it look friendly. And this was what the much-vaunted baking tasted like. Heavenly.

He wasn’t sure what the rules were about taking multiple items, so he snuck another cookie before beating a quick retreat. He waited until he was safely back at his desk before trying it. This one was dark chocolate and salted caramel. He went slow and savored this one, trying to make it last.

Yeah, he could see why Clint and everyone else got so excited when talking about Darcy’s baked goods. She clearly had a talent for baking and wasn’t afraid to share. He leaned back in his desk chair, feeling his neck pop as he regarded the ceiling. He almost didn’t want to drink his coffee so that he could keep the taste on his tongue a little longer. Her taste. Her flavors. His mind drifted back to the missed opportunity in the hallway. He ran his tongue over his lips, searching out any crumbs he might have missed. What would kissing Darcy Lewis taste like, he wondered.

A hand knocking on the surface of his desk jolted him back to Earth.

“Sorry Daniels, did I catch you napping?” asked Agent Cole as he jerked himself upright. She was a short, plump blond woman who looked like she should have been driving a minivan of kids to soccer practice. Appearances were always deceiving at SHIELD. Jack knew for a fact that she could run fast enough to keep up with the younger agents she rode herd on and drive any vehicle you could name.

“No, just thinking about baked goods,” he muttered as he wiped a hand across his mouth and moustache self-consciously. Agent Cole saw the crumb dotted napkin he had used to carry the cookie still sitting on his desk. She chuckled.

“Sorry to interrupt the sugar coma then. I wanted to get your thoughts on a mission they’ve just assigned to me and my team.” Jack cocked his head at her. His next mission was with Team Foxtrot, not Team Lima. Why did she want to discuss things with him?

“Sure.” He supposed it didn’t hurt to listen.

Jack and Agent Cole had been talking over some of her team’s upcoming missions for about 45 minutes when a ping when out over the office-wide alert system. Jack read the message that had popped up on his computer screen. ‘Dangerous laboratory animal has escaped from Biology Labs on floor 4. Be on the lookout’.

“Oo! We haven’t had one of these in a while,” trilled Agent Cole. “It’s always entertaining to watch them try to recapture escapees.” She happily told Jack stories of previous escapes and the hijinks that ensued. She didn’t seem to find the situation worrying, so Jack wasn’t concerned.

At least he wasn’t until a door to another section of the floor banged open and people started shouting. He and Agent Cole stood and craned their necks over the cubicle walls to try to see what was going on.

“Stop it!” Someone yelled.

“It’s going ‘round the east side!”

“Bridger, if you don’t nab that thing, I will make you a member of the workplace safety committee!”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

Papers flew through the air and several cubicle partitions were knocked down as the chaos approached Jack’s desk. He heard a high-pitched squealing as the shouting came closer. A creature that looked something like a baby wild boar jinked around the corner of a desk. The animal was vaguely pig shaped but had long blue hair with silver tusks. A long tufted tail whipped madly as it evaded its would-be captors. A man in a sweater vest who was running behind the boar made a desperate flying tackle, but the boar leaped aside and ran up the cubicle aisle.

“Six months on committee, Bridger!” screeched a woman who leaped over the hapless Bridger to continue the pursuit.

This is what happens when I go out to lunch! My idiot scientists let alien animals out of containment! At least she was wearing boots with low heels today. Darcy looked ahead to try to predict the torcalleach’s path. Instead, she caught sight of a familiar cowboy hat. Ah jeezus I’m going to kill Bridger for this. Remember kids, do not try this at home!

“Cowboy, catch!” Darcy shouted. She threw the mini tranq gun over a section of cubicles as the torcalleach neared Jack. He snatched the gun out of the air, clasped it in a classic two-handed shooting stance, and fired once as the alien ran past. The torcalleach continued running for nearly 50 feet before it slowed and slumped to the ground. Darcy skidded to a stop beside Jack and Agent Cole, panting with her unplanned run through the SHIELD building. She braced her hands on her knees as she huffed and puffed. So undignified.

“Nice shooting, Cowboy,” she said as she straightened. She didn’t take her eyes off the blue alien as she watched its sides rise and fall. She held out a hand for the tranq pistol. Jack handed it over and Darcy reloaded it with a spare tranquilizer round. She approached the torcalleach warily.

“Darcy…” warned Jack. She waved him off and squatted down by the creature, watching it breathe and confirming that it was well and truly unconscious. With a sigh of relief, she stood and propped her empty hand on her hip.

“It’s down. Bridger, get your ass over here and get this thing back into containment before I ask Heimdal to portal you to Jotunheim!” Xenobiologist Conrad Bridger scrambled to his feet and joined her by the torcalleach. Darcy handed him the tranq and called down to the labs for a cage and hand truck. The piglike alien was about as large as a midsize dog but rounded with muscle and very heavy. She propped herself up on the edge of a desk and waited as a lab crew came. She was distinctly not looking at Agent Jack Daniels.  

Maybe if she just didn’t look at him he’d vanish. Or she’d vanish.  Sink into the scratchy industrial carpeting and ooze away. Darcy had done lots of embarrassing things in front of people she had crushes on in her lifetime. She wondered which was worse, chasing a blue pig around and arriving at Jack Daniel’s desk looking like a total mess or doing the chicken dance in front of Scott Mesnick while drunk in her sophomore year? At least this time she could distract herself with work and pretend that they still needed her for something. Supervising. That was what she was doing. Supervising the pig removal. Gods knew that she couldn’t trust Bridger with it.

Her excellent plan was foiled when Jack approached and stood at her shoulder, ostensibly watching the pig removal too.

“What is that thing?”

“A torcalleach. Alien cat-pig thing from the planet Aduanlir. A portal was opened about 8 months ago and a bunch of these guys came through to Hoboken. SHIELD rounded up most of them and sent them back before the portal closed, but a couple slipped through. This one’s been living in our labs for the past 4 months.” She was not going to look at him. She was not. Even though during the arrival of the lab guys he had propped himself up on the same desk and had an arm braced somewhere behind her. Even though he was so close she could smell cedar again. Darcy’s brain let out a little whimper as Jack hummed in response to her summation. If I adjusted my balance just a little I could be leaning up against him. I bet he’s sturdy in addition to smelling amazing.

She was here. It was like thinking about her so much earlier had summoned her. Jack could have done without the rampaging alien pig, but this was well worth the trouble. Darcy had come flying out of nowhere and thrown a gun at him (they would seriously need to have a discussion about weapons safety later) and now she was beside him watching them load the alien pig into a big metal dog crate on wheels. She was clearly busy. And pissed as all get out at poor Bridger.

God she was gorgeous. A wild thing with her hair going everywhere and her sweater hanging off her left shoulder. Jack was hypnotized by the pale skin of that shoulder and he had come as close as he could without touching her. But he wanted to. It would be the easiest thing in the world to duck his head and kiss the spot where the straps of her camisole and bra dug in. Jack shuddered slightly and tried to focus on what she was telling him about the critter he had just shot, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“All set. We’ll transport him back to the lab now.” The unfamiliar voice made Jack jerk his head up and dispelled some of the haze from his brain. It was the unfortunate Bridger. Darcy crossed her arms and glared at the gangly dark-haired man the orange sweater vest.

“Great,” growled Darcy. “I want your incident report in my inbox along with Doctor Pheel’s and Ms. Raeburn’s by the end of the day.” For a moment Bridger looked like he might argue, but the thunderous expression on Darcy’s face persuaded him otherwise. He turned tail and ran, in front of the pig this time.

When they were gone Darcy’s hackles dropped. She sighed and scraped a hand through her hair to pull it back from her face. Then she finally looked up at Jack. Storm clouds danced in her eyes.

“Thanks for the help,” she said. Her voice sounded hoarse. Jack nodded. He didn’t like seeing her upset. He’d seen her happy, calm, excited, mischievous, flirty, serious, but not angry before. Now that the unfortunate Bridger, the focal point of her ire, was gone the anger was draining and she looked stressed. Jack wanted her to laugh. He thought this was the kind of incident that would warrant one of her usual jokes. A blue pig running through the office? Hilarious! But she didn’t seem to see it that way.

“Gonna fry Bridger up for breakfast, Darlin’?” He drawled. Darcy’s eyes widened and the corner of her mouth twitched. “I’ll dart him for you if you want. No chase required this time.” She snorted and her shoulders began to shake. It built until she was giggling. Music to Jack’s ears. It was the best damn thing he’d done all day, making her laugh.

“Oh god, the poor guy did look like he expected me to chop him to bits, didn’t he?” Darcy giggled. “I’m probably going to feel bad about that later, but…” She tapered off.

“Nah, he probably deserved it. He let the thing get away in the first place, right?” He grinned at her. “If I were you, I’d be making pig related jokes in front of him for months.” She smiled up at him and it felt like sunshine.

“You would, would you? Why, Jack Daniels that sounds like petty revenge. I like the way you think!” Her voice transitioned from joking into something softer, sweeter. They were in the middle of the fucking cubicle farm, but Jack thought if he didn’t touch her he’d combust and do something really crazy. He just needed a little…

Darcy nearly had a heart attack when Jack touched her. The carefree grin that had graced his face had slid into something hungrier. His eyes were still bright and dancing with intensity, but he was no longer smiling. For a moment she regretted letting flirtation color her voice if it meant that the rare smile was gone, but then he touched her and her heart beat faster than when she had been chasing the torcalleach. He had drawn his left hand up to her shoulder where the wide collar of her sweater had slipped during all the running. Jack slid the back his index finger up her arm and over the cap of her shoulder soft as a whisper. Then he slid it down again in a slow, tiny slide that made Darcy’s skin tingle.

He had dropped his gaze to watch the path of his fingers across her skin as he repeated the gesture in a hypnotic motion. Darcy’s breath hitched and his eyes flicked back to hers. His mouth had parted ever so slightly and Darcy couldn’t look anywhere else. She had swayed close enough to feel his breath on her skin. He looked so hungry and all Darcy wanted to do was feed him. He could have her right now, whatever he wanted, as long as he finally put his mouth on her. Somewhere. Anywhere. Shoulder, mouth, hand, didn’t matter. Please. Please.

“Hey Daniels, I’ll see you later alright?” An overly loud voice pierced the bubble, and Darcy felt the tension pop like she’d just descended from 35,000 feet. She started and whipped back from Jack to stare in shock at Agent Cole. The older woman had an amused smile on her face and a stack of brightly colored folders in one raised hand. Darcy was rudely brought back to Earth and the mess of the cubicles surrounding them, which were full of people chatting and cleaning up after the piggy rampage, though honestly more mess had probably been caused by the people chasing after the alien than the alien itself. They were surrounded by people and Darcy’s sweater was hanging off one shoulder and she had nearly kissed Jack Daniels in public. Again.

AAAAAGH, Darcy internally wailed, unsure if she were more upset over the loss of another kiss or the embarrassment of being caught almost kissing in the middle of SHIELD. Either way, she’d hit her limit for embarrassing shit today, and that was a very difficult thing to do. Agent Cole just smiled in a friendly way, looking from Darcy to Jack as Jack said something Darcy didn’t listen to. Hell nope. Can’t. Just can’t. Darcy couldn’t even toss a fake grin or a pithy comment to Agent Cole as she turned and walked away. She needed to find a place to go breathe quietly for a few minutes.

She couldn’t head for the elevator because Agent Cole and Jack were standing between it and her, so she made for the stairs. She didn’t have the faintest idea where she would go once in the stairwell, but that was a problem for Future Darcy to handle. She just needed to not be standing there with her outsized crush and raging lady boner for Jack Daniels in full view of everyone. She knew her face had to be beet red.

AGAIN. They’d been interrupted AGAIN. Jack wished he still had that nifty little tranq gun so that he could dart Agent Cole and make her stop grinning at them. He snatched his hand back to his side like a kid caught in the cookie jar. Darcy flinched and her face flushed. He wanted to scream. For a few moments he had completely forgotten where he was. There could have been a dozen gun barrels trained on him and he wouldn’t have known or cared.

“Right,” he managed to mutter to Agent Cole. “I’ll get back to you about that last mission brief we were discussing-“ He broke off. Darcy was walking away. No, no, no! he whimpered as he watched her go. Please come back, we can go and get coffee and keep making pig jokes. Agent Cole had the fucking nerve to chuckle at him.

“Well, well, well. I’m learning a whole lot about you today, Daniels.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down. Jack glared at her. “Oooh yeah, I definitely interrupted something there!” She jerked her chin the direction of the stairs. “What are you standing here for, man? Go!”

A string snapped.

 Jack would recognize it later as the last fibers of his self-control. He didn’t care anymore what anyone saw or learned about him. He hurtled to the stairs and ripped open the heavy metal door that had only just finished closing in Darcy’s wake.

The stairwell was the faintly grimy grey of all office stairwells and lit with ugly harsh fluorescents. Darcy in her oversized blue sweater was a dash of color in the gloom. She had only made it to the next landing, not even a full floor away. It was still too much space between them.

“Darcy!” Jack called, his voice echoing against the concrete. Darcy stopped and swirled around. He was already down the intervening steps, reeling her in at the waist, his other hand at her jawline. Their mouths collided and his eyes slammed shut. Her hands landed on his chest and she seized his jacket lapels. For a second Jack was afraid she had grabbed him so that she could shove him away, but her hands yanked him in and down so that she could surge up against his mouth and kiss him harder.

Heads tilted as their noses bumped and they opened their mouths wider. Hungry for more. More. More. More. It was not a gentle, tentative, polite, first kiss. They’d both run out of patience for that. Darcy Lewis tasted like Coca-Cola. Sweet and cloying. Her lips were impossibly soft and demanding. His thumb skimmed over the apple of her cheek and she leaned into his touch, wanting more, more of him. Jack closed his teeth over her bottom lip, giving her the smallest nip. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

But Darcy moaned softly and it reminded him; This was the first time he’d kissed her. He can’t take too much, can’t go too fast. If he fucks this up now, he will lose everything.

He didn’t want to scare her away, so he softened the kiss, let their lips scrape together lightly. Their mouths made soft wet sounds as he brought them together and eased them apart. He was rewarded with a small keening sound from her, and she raised her hands to cup the back of his neck and head. Her nails scratched lightly through his hair and it was his turn to moan. His hat fell to the floor unheeded.

Jack made a guttural sound that came from deep within as Darcy took over. She refused to let him control this, just like she never let him control any of their conversations. She was too unpredictable. He couldn’t put her into one of his boxes and make her stay. Darcy Fucking Lewis ripped apart his boxes like they were made of tissue paper. He could never guess what she would say or do, and that scared Jack shitless. But it also made him feel more alive than he has since a bullet went through his brain. Her tongue swept into his mouth and his mind went blank, lost to the hunger and the heat.

He loses time. It couldn’t have been more than a minute but now Darcy’s back was against the wall, and their tongues danced freely. One of her arms was flung over his shoulder with her hand gripping at the back of his jacket. It brought their chests flush and he cursed the layers of clothes between them. His hand pet the small of her back, clenching and unclenching the thick stitches of her sweater. His other hand had slid to cup her neck, tangle his fingers in her wavy hair. Silken against the callouses. His hand continued to drift, chasing the lines of her neck and collarbone, over the straps to again stroke that pale skin from earlier.

Jack remembered his desire to touch her, to put his mouth to her skin and know the taste. He knew her lips and tongue now. He was greedy to know more, every taste and texture she will give him he will take them all gladly. And now there was no one to see him be so greedy and foolish, no one but her, and she seemed just as greedy for him as she sucked on his tongue.

It took a moment for him to extricate his mouth from the pleasurable business of devouring and being devoured, but he slowly slid his mouth down to kiss at the corner of her mouth, her chin, her jaw. She sighed and tilted her head to allow him access to her neck. Darcy became malleable as putty in his hands as kissed her neck. He lingered there for a time, nipping and sucking along the muscle until he followed it down to the hollow of her throat. His tongue swiped over the space between her collarbones and she moaned for him, her head dropping back against the wall with a slight thud. His lips followed the path charted by his fingers. He liked the tiny smacking sound generated by contact. It complemented the pants of their breathing in the echoing space.

He ran out of shoulder to kiss and shifted to press his forehead to it instead (and when the fuck had he lost his hat?), leaning there with his eyes closed, trying to remember how to breathe and talk again. Darcy gave him no help as her fingers on the back of his neck moved and traced gentle patterns that distracted him utterly. He never wanted to move again.

Darcy turned her head and pressed her lips to his temple. It sent a shudder through his bones at the sheer tenderness of the gesture. His hands had settled at her hips at some point and his thumbs made circles against the frustratingly thick sweater that hung to her midthigh. Her hands had come to rest cupping the back of his head, interwoven with his hair, breaking up the gel he used to slick it back. He felt her inhale and let out a breath slowly in a deep, satisfied sigh.

“Jack,” Darcy murmured. Because what the fuck else was she supposed to say?

He had come after her and kissed her hard enough to make her lips swell. She didn’t mind a bit. Frankly, she wouldn’t have minded if they had ripped each other apart right there in the stairwell. It was the hottest first kiss she had ever had by a mile. Guess there was something to be said for being patient.

She couldn’t seem to pull him close enough even with her hands fisted in the front of his jacket. A single centimeter between them would have been wasted space. Jack had scraped his thumb along her cheek and she had leaned into his touch, wanting it to match the pressure of the gasping kiss.

Jack bit her bottom lip and Darcy made a noise that echoed embarrassingly loud in the stairwell. She couldn’t bring herself to mind, after all, she was finally getting the thing that she had been dreaming of since she saw him sparring in the gym. She had craved that intensity, that singularity of focus. She had seen the way he could wield his hands as precise tools to damage a person and wondered if he were just as capable of using them to produce pleasure as well.

It turned out his mouth was every bit as good as his hands. He had lightened the pressure and slowed the world down, letting air pass between their lips. Darcy nearly sobbed. She had wanted more, needed more. It couldn’t be over yet. So she carded her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head and demanded more.

Jack had made a noise like he was coming apart at the seams and pushed her back to rest against the wall. She hadn’t resisted, loving the feeling of him pressing her against the solid surface. Darcy finally got to let her fingers loose to roam his shoulders, caress the delicate crows feet at the corners of his eyes, stroke the back of his neck, and run a thumb along his jawline. His skin felt like it was on fire and she loved the faintly scratchy velvet of it. His hands hadn’t been idle either as they tangled in her sweater and hair. She could feel the roughness of the callouses on his fingertips as he plied them over her face, neck, and shoulder.

Jack tasted like coffee and chocolate. Kissing him was rich and dark and oh so good. Darcy was on the verge of passing out because she kept forgetting to breathe when Jack angled his head to kiss her cheek, jaw, then neck. Darcy made a happy breathless noise that would have been so much louder if she could have remembered to breathe. And then it was a very good thing she was pressed so securely between him and the wall. The smooth drag of his tongue over her skin made her knees go weak. Did he even realize he was the only thing keeping her upright?

He pressed tiny smacking kisses out to her shoulder, fulfilling the promise he had made when he had started stroking her out in the bullpen. Only then had he finally paused, leaning against his head against the shoulder he had just kissed. She wished they were near a couch or a bed so that they could topple over and be still. Breathing seemed to be an activity they both struggled with at the moment, which was very satisfying to Darcy.

She kissed the nearest bit of him and sighed in relief. That kiss had told her more than Jack had probably meant it to. Jack Daniels liked her enough to lose some of that fucking reserve and kiss her up to the point of collapse. It made her feel almost drunk to think that she provoked that reaction from him. She still didn’t know nearly as much as she wanted to about his life, but Darcy felt she knew him. Plenty of time to learn details later.

His hands had migrated to her hips and she felt the tiny movements of his thumbs. Gods, his hand felt perfect there with his fingers extending almost all the way across her lower back. Darcy would never use the word ‘small’ to describe herself, that was for people like Jane, but Jack made her feel… almost delicate? Maybe it was the way he kissed like it was his last day on Earth but kept his hands so gentle. He kneaded at her sweater in a catlike gesture. This was officially her new favorite outfit.

“Mmm. If I knew this would be your reaction I would have worn this sweater much earlier.” She kept her tone light and the volume sotto. It didn’t feel like Jack was going to freak out and flee, but she didn’t want to startle him. And one of them had to be the one to talk first, dammit.

Jack’s fingers spasmed. He chuckled lowly and turned his head. She felt the minute bristle of his cheek against hers as his lip hovered by her ear.

“It’s less the about the sweater than the girl in it,” he murmured. Darcy shivered. His voice had dipped so low she could feel it in her bones. He felt her reaction, and Darcy could tell from tone that he was smiling as he said, “Like that, darlin’?” He nuzzled at her ear so light it tickled. Darcy made a strangled noise of agreement and he chuckled in satisfaction. When he pulled back to look her in the eye, he certainly appeared pleased with himself.

“Tease,” Darcy grumbled. He raised his eyebrows at her. It didn’t have the proper chastising effect as his hair was so delightfully rumpled and sticking out every which way. She couldn’t help giggling at it. He looked confused for a moment before figuring it out and trying to rake it back into submission with a hand. It only seemed to make it worse as whatever product he had used to tame it gave up the ghost.

“Dammit. This is why I wear a hat,” he muttered. Darcy laughed and stooped to one side to scoop up the lost article.

“Here.” She held it gingerly up to him. It didn’t look or feel like it had concealed weapons in it as Nat had suggested, but then Nat rarely looked like she was carrying weapons yet almost always was. He took the hat in one hand and scraped his hair back with the other before replacing it. Unfortunately, he did not return his hands to Darcy’s person, which she considered a grave loss. During these maneuvers he had also stepped back a pace and now he placed his hands on his hips. He looked at the ground for a minute and exhaled sharply and when he looked back up at her the smile was gone. The little furrow between his eyebrows made an appearance. Fuck. Darcy felt her stomach plummet and her anxiety went into overdrive.

“We’re gonna need some rules to this.” Darcy wasn’t sure what she had been expecting or fearing that he would say, but that definitely wasn’t it. Rules? Darcy wasn’t big on rules, but plenty of relationships had them. She kept her face neutral.

“What would you suggest?”

“Nothing in public,” he stated firmly. Darcy bit the inside of her cheek. She assumed he meant Public Displays of Affection. It made sense, given how closed off he was at work. This would be difficult for her. Darcy was an affectionate person in general. She liked hugs and walking arm in arm with friends and loved getting a hello kiss from partners. She supposed that not wanting to make out in public was reasonable enough. Nothing though? That bugged her, but she wasn’t going to fight him on it.

“Fine. What else?” She did her best to keep her tone even and sunny.

“No labels.” That made Darcy roll her eyes. It was such a dumb guy thing, like avoiding calling it something would make it any less true.

“I understand not liking terms like “dating” or “boyfriend” but come on! There has to be something.” Jack crossed his arms.

“I don’t see why there should be.”

“Well, how the heck do I describe you then?”

“Guy you’re fucking?” Darcy rolled her eyes again. Commitment-phobia, she should have guessed that.

“Question: Monagamy?” For this first time in the conversation Jack looked uncomfortable. He shifted his weight from foot to foot before answering.

“For my part? Yeah. But-“

“Okay then,” she cut across him. “So you’re fine with me referring to you as ‘that guy I’m fucking’?” He nodded. Darcy’s lips thinned. “For the record, I am not fine with being referred to as your fuckbuddy or anything like that.” She had experienced a guy or two calling her that to his friends; she hadn’t enjoyed it. But now Jack was frowning harder, like she had said something ridiculous.

“Why the fuck would I call you that? You’re not ‘my’ anything.” And didn’t that feel like something sharp had just been jabbed into her ribcage? Darcy refused to think ‘heart’.  Too soon for that, wasn’t it? She remained completely frozen with only the widening of her eyes to reveal that she had heard him. “You’re not mine,” he clarified. “Not my girlfriend, not my partner. I don’t have any kind of claim on you.”  What in Mjolnir’s name is he talking about?

“I don’t understand.” It came out flatter than she meant it to, but it was the only way she could keep her voice from shaking. You are not crying right now, Darcy Lewis, you’re just not. He hasn’t broken up with you because you never started. You will not cry about this!

Jack sighed and shook his head. Darcy was afraid he was going to walk out right then. Instead, Jack braced both his hands against the wall by her head and leaned in slightly.

“Listen, Darlin’. I know I’m no goddam prize, so any time you want this to stop, you say the word. I won’t be some shitty clinging ex-boyfriend you cuss about down the road, won’t do that to you. I’m yours as long as you want me. That’s it.” Darcy blinked hard, trying frantically to decipher the emotions playing in his deep brown eyes. Now she was even more confused. How the fuck could he be hers, but she wasn’t his? What-

“Please, Darcy. Please,” Jack whispered. He leaned in and kissed her lightly, tracing his lips over hers. His eyes were closed, but Darcy was too shocked. His eyelashes were unfairly thick. Her mouth opened in confusion and he invaded, turning the kiss wet and deep and filthy. Darcy had just begun to let go when he pulled back and ended it. “Please,” he panted. “I’m not good for much, not anymore, but you can use me however you like, and kick me to the curb when you find someone better.”

Use him? Use him??? What exactly is he offering? Darcy still didn’t understand. She didn’t have time, Jack had lowered his arms and was stepping back.

“Think about it,” he said with a sharp nod. Then he began to turn to go.

“No!” Darcy gasped. Before she could consider the wisdom of grabbing a top agent, she had already snatched at the front of his jacket. Darcy had made her choice weeks ago when she had started to investigate and flirt with Jack in earnest. She wanted him, in whatever fucked up way she could get him. There would be time to sort out the details later, but now she couldn’t let him leave, not with the uncertainty she had finally read in his eyes.

“I don’t need to think about it!” She tugged hard and must have caught him off guard as he took several stumbling steps into her. She pivoted and suddenly Jack was the one caught against the wall. His mouth was open and his eyes were wide in shock. Darcy wrapped his tie around her hand to prevent further escape attempts. “I don’t need to think about it,” she repeated more gently. “In fact, I don’t want to be thinking about anything at all right now.” She brought her other hand up to press against his check. She managed a little smile. “Help a girl out, Cowboy.” She kissed him sweetly, just off center on his bottom lip. He groaned. His arms wrapped around her and his head moved to correct the contact, deepening the kiss.

Darcy’s mind really did go blank for a few minutes.

 When they parted again Jack was smiling. Darcy felt a stab of satisfaction at putting that look on his face. It was worth all the confusion. Whatever price she had to pay to keep Jack and his smile, she would pay it.

Chapter Text

Jack’s back hit the mat and all the breath in his lungs wheezed out.

“Whoa! Got ya’ good there.  You okay, man?” Clint’s ugly mug hovered above him.

“Oof,” was Jack’s only reply. Clint chuckled and flopped down next to him in solidarity. They had been sparring for a while. Clint had finally gotten a good grip on Jack and slammed him down before Jack could stop him. They were both sweaty and out of breath as they stared up at the ceiling and watched dust motes flicker through the air. Jack smacked the back of his hand into Clint’s arm.

“Good one.” Clint turned his head to grin at him.

“I would say good fight, but you don’t usually let me get a hold of you so easily.”

“Fuck you, Barton,” Jack scoffed.

“No thanks, you’re not my type.” Clint interlaced his fingers comfortably over his stomach. “Besides, rumor has it that your type is dark-haired.” Clint heard Jack’s breath hitch.

“Oughta know better than to listen to rumors, Barton.”

“So you don’t think Darcy’s pretty?” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I never said that! I-“ He realized his mistake too late as Clint’s grin gained wattage. Jack pressed his lips together.

“So-o! You were making eyes at Darcy after that containment breach a few days ago!” Jack stubbornly remained silent. “And you followed her into the stairs afterwards!” His lips were a thin line. “Well, well, well! All that talk about finding her confusing as hell, I’m assuming you two have figured things out?”

“None of your business, Barton,” Jack growled through clenched teeth. He sat up and glared down at Clint. “It’s nobody’s business. Don’t go spreading rumors about her.” Clint raised an eyebrow, still smiling.

“I’m not. I’m asking you, are you involved with Darcy?” Are you involved with my friend? Jack heard the unasked part of the question. Clint was Darcy’s friend and he wanted to look out for her. In the old days Jack would have been making the same enquiry if someone new started hanging around with Ginger or Tequilla. It took the wind out of his sails to remember. Jack raised his knees and propped his elbows up on them.

“We might be,” Jack compromised. Involved did feel like the perfect way to describe their ambiguous non-relationship. “You want any more details you’ll have to ask her.”

“Not gonna give me any more than that, huh?”

“No fucking way, Clint. I am not gonna screw this up by talkin’ outa turn.”

“That implies that there is something to screw up.” Clint waggled his eyebrows impishly. “How serious is it?” Jack just shook his head. There was no way he was saying anything that might upset Darcy. She might not care if Clint knew. She might not care if all of her friends knew. Until Jack knew how she wanted to handle things he wasn’t willing to risk it, this strange nebulous soap bubble of a thing. There was too damn much at stake.

“If you’ve got enough energy to run your mouth, you’ve got enough for another round,” Jack stated as he rolled to his feet. Clint threw his legs into the air and brought his feet down with a slam as his body scissored upright.

“Oh, I’ve got the energy for it, but do you have the focus for it, Jackie boy? I thought you were a little distracted while we were fighting earlier. Maybe you were thinking about something else?” Jack didn’t give the other agent any more time to spew crap, aiming a powerful punch at his kidney. Clint twisted away just in time, giggling like a schoolgirl. “I’ll take that as a yes!”

Asshole. Why do I hang out with him again?

She slid across the ice on blades whisper sharp. She loved the sound of ice being carbed as she angled her blades into a turn. Darcy had never managed anything really fancy, but she could do some simple spins and one jump. But when she really needed to think, going round and round in circles was the best thing. Darcy had been one of those little girls who dreamed of being an ice-skating princess when she was little, and her parents had gladly taken her to classes. Everywhere but the dance floor and the ice rink Darcy always felt a bit clumsy and awkward. Dancing was something she did for fun while out with friends, and skating had become the thing she did when she needed time and movement to sort out her messy brain.

But it wasn’t really her brain that was messy at the moment, it was Jack’s. They had made out. It had been awesome. Then he started talking about rules and how she could use him and lose him any time she wanted. Call her crazy, but that didn’t seem like a healthy approach to a new relationship. He hadn’t brought it up as an option, just declared that that was how it was going to be. She had expected some kind of weird boundaries; As a spy, Jack lived and died by deciding who to trust. He had been doing it for years clearly, and living in that way left its mark on people.

 Darcy glided to the center of the rink and began whipping herself into spins, trying to whip her thoughts into order. If he had declared that all he was interested in was sex with her, that would have needed one thing, and probably not something Darcy could manage. But Jack had said ‘please’ and ‘I’m not good for much, not anymore’.

Bad previous relationship? Maybe several bad ones?

Did Jack not think he was capable of being in a relationship? Was it lack of ability or lack of desire for one? Darcy snapped to a crisp halt that made the ice sing. Damage from bad previous relationships could be worked out. Some perceived incapability might be soothed by time. The only thing Darcy really couldn’t overcome was Jack not wanting any kind of relationship with her at all. He had refused to call himself her boyfriend and in the same breath said ‘I’m yours as long as you want me’. 

She smiled absently as she resumed skating around the edge of the rink. No, lack of desire wasn’t their problem. She remembered the sensation of him kissing the base of her throat and the needy sounds he had made when she ran her hands through his hair. Jack wanted her. She could work with that. Maybe she could convince him to want a relationship with her as well?

She sped up, feeling a fresh invigoration. She would show him what dating her would be like, show him that things between them didn’t have to be scary or difficult, that he could trust her with his back. Did Jack like to skate? Maybe he’d prefer a quiet afternoon on the couch watching a movie? She laughed to herself as she remembered her friends asking about square dancing. It wasn’t her favorite style of dancing, but if Jack enjoyed it, she’d go.

She is also going to bake shit for him until she figures out what he likes. She is going to make sure he gets treatment when he gets injured. She is going to kiss the hell out of him even if it’s only in private. Darcy Lewis is going to seduce Jack Daniels by being an awesome girlfriend whether he wants to call it that or not. She will respect the letter of law, but not the spirit. If he questions her, she’ll say she treats all her sexual partners this way. The only way he can avoid the full Darcy treatment now is if he actually tells her to cut it out.

She treated herself to a steaming cup of cheap Swiss Miss hot cocoa from the rink concession window on the way out and grinned at the tiny mini marshmallows that floated on the surface. Jack Daniels is going to be happy. With her.

To Darcy’s great surprise, Jack didn’t make her hunt him down. He found her.

“Hi Jack! What’s up?” Jack stood in her office doorway, hovering uncertainly in a deep gray suit with a blue tie. Really, I should be applauded for my self-restraint in not pouncing on him constantly, Darcy snickered to herself. She had just finished her meeting with Ms. Asano to discuss a project proposal. She had barely waved Ms. Asano out the door when Jack had appeared, nodding politely to Ms. Asano and leaning against the door frame.

“Nothing much,” he shrugged. “I was just wondering what happened to that alien pig thing? Are you busy? It’s nothing important.” Aww, he thinks he needs to come up with excuses to come down here? Darcy stood and stretched to give herself a second to revel in it. The agent’s face was impassive, as though the words he was saying didn’t matter much at all. His hands were shoved into his pockets and his leaning posture would indicate a casual air to anyone who didn’t know him. Darcy did. If Jack was projecting casual and unassuming body language, then something was up.

She smiled brightly at him, trying to reassure him with her own casual and open posture.

“That was the last of my meetings for the day. I’ve got time to chat.” Jack nodded and his eyes roved over her and the office space, still nervous. His eyes narrowed suddenly.

“Are you wearing a shirt printed with the digits of Pi?” Darcy smoothed her hands over her deep teal button-down that was indeed printed with unending rows of Pi in brighter teal. It was one of her more professional shirts, but that didn’t mean it had to be boring.

“You know Pi?” He grinned at her surprise.

“It’s one of best holidays, but you are a few months early.”

“You know about Pi day,” Darcy sighed in a near reverential tone. “Fuck, that’s cute.” He’s too cute. Really, who needed applause or self-restraint? Darcy moved to cover the few feet between them and pressed a kiss to Jack’s mouth. She felt him stiffen as she laid her hands on his chest, but he melted within a second. His hands came out of his pockets, one fumbling behind him to close the door, and the other slipping across her lower back.

The door thudded shut behind Jack, and Darcy had never been so happy that her office didn’t have any windows.

His hand tilted his hat up so that they could press closer without the brim jabbing Darcy’s forehead and then it settled against her cheek and jaw, his thumb smoothing over her skin. The kiss was soft and quiet, and it still made Darcy’s stomach quiver. Their mouths moved gently against each other, learning and exploring. Darcy loved the faint sigh Jack emitted when one of her hands moved to cup the back of his neck and gently scrub through his hair.

They stopped kissing but didn’t separate, leaning together and sharing breath. Darcy’s eyes flickered open to find his deep brown ones waiting for her. She smiled slightly.

“So do you really want to see how the torcalleach is doing, or can we just stay in here for a bit?” He chuckled softly and the fine lines appeared at the corners of his eyes.

“We can do whatever you want to, Sugar,” he murmured as he nuzzled his nose against hers.

“Hmm,” Darcy sighed. She circled her arms around his neck, and he moved his hands to clasp her waist. “You really shouldn’t say shit like that to me Jack, or I’ll have us going home early to cuddle up on the couch to watch movies and eat junk food all afternoon.” He clearly had not been expecting that answer and it startled an incredulous laugh out of him.

“Really Darlin’? I say ‘whatever’ and that’s where your mind goes?” Darcy snorted.

“What? That’s certainly not the only place it went!” She peered up at him through her eyelashes and gave him a coquettish smirk. “My brain is very good at multitasking.” He laughed again and she relished the bright, heady feeling it gave her. She felt his fingers move as they twined through the belt loops of her jeans. She’d had this pair for years and they were wonderfully soft and worn. His fingers rasped against the denim.

“I’m sure,” Jack purred. His smile had changed, becoming predatory. It sent a thrill up Darcy’s spine. She shivered and ducked her head. “How’s about you tell me where else your mind just went?” Jack sidled them deeper into the room and Darcy gave a squeak as her butt hit the front of her desk.

“Err, I-“ she stuttered out. His hands on her hips, his voice in her ear, and the faint scent of ceder did something to her brain. She rarely had the focus for dirty talk and he was filling her brain with static. “ I-“ A hand came up under her chin and forced her head up.

“Darcy, you okay?” His eyes flicked over her face in concern, cataloging details she couldn’t begin to guess at.

“Yeah, sure! You just found my super secret weakness is all.” He cocked his head. “Dirty talk. I’m just really not good at it, I guess, and-“ He cut off her babbling with a gentle nip to her lower lip. Her breath stuttered.

“That’s fine, Darlin’, just fine.” He took off his hat and set it on the corner of the desk. “Was beginning to wonder just what in the hell you couldn’t do.” He ducked his head and kissed the side of her neck. “It happens that I like it, giving, receiving, don’t matter.” Darcy’s eyes fell shut and she tilted her head back to give him better access. Her fingers raked through his hair, destroying the neat part he’d made. Jack sucked hard on her neck in retribution. She felt his teeth rake across her skin. Darcy moaned.

In a sudden move Jack scooped her up a few inches and deposited her on the desk. He stood between her legs and smoothed his hands over her thighs.

“Holy fuck,” Darcy whispered before pulling Jack’s face up to kiss him hard. His hands clenched, gripping too hard for a moment before softening, moving up to hold her hips, then her waist. Darcy moved her own hands to his neck and then his shoulders before she forced herself to stop. She ranked her head back. “Jack, have you got anything in your jacket I need to worry about?” She panted. Jack’s eyes were only half open and his lips looked wonderfully reddened.

“What?” He mumbled. “Oh, yeah.” He stepped back and shrugged out of the dark gray jacket, tossing it into the visitor’s chair. He wore a leather shoulder holster that held guns to each side of his ribs, dark against the stark white of his button-down shirt. Oh no, thought Darcy muzzily, that’s a new thing to find stupidly hot. He fiddled with a buckle and slid the harness off. Then he reached around to his back and unhooked a knife holster. His guns and his knife were set down carefully on the seat of chair.

Jack held up empty hands. The little strip show had given him time to calm down and he looked much more in control now. It had had rather the opposite effect on Darcy. She crooked a finger at him with a little grin. He returned it and stepped back towards her.

“Sure you don’t want me to take off a little more?” Darcy snorted. Her hands shot out to grab his shirt and reel him back in.

“Cowboy, if you take off any more layers I will not held responsible for my actions.” His smile widened. The kissing resumed, but now Darcy let her hands roam freely over Jack’s torso, mapping lines of muscle and seams of clothing. Jack’s hands were not idle either as they drifted in feather light touches across Darcy’s legs, back, shoulders. The frantic pace of the kisses slowed as well until their lips were moving together languorous and deep.

Jack hands drifted again from her waist as he swept his thumbs over the curves of her breasts. Darcy’s back arched, and he repeated the caress with a firmer pressure, moving to cup them in his palms. Darcy’s hands smacked the desk, bracing herself from falling backwards as her spine bent like licorice. Her mouth left his and she moaned.

“So pretty, Darlin’,” Jack murmured as watched Darcy pant under his hands. His thumb found a nipple and he dragged a blunt nail over it. Even through her shirt and bra Darcy felt it. She burned for more.

“Ja-ack,” she sighed as he repeated the touch to her other nipple. She looked up at him and saw hunger plain as day written in every line of his face. She tightened her legs around him and urged him closer with a syrupy slow gyration of her hips. Jack gasped hoarsely as Darcy ground herself again the front of his pants. One hand fell from her breasts as he braced himself against the desk. Darcy watched his dark eyes slam shut and jaw clench as he moved convulsively against her. The bulge in the front of his pants ground against the seam of her jeans.

“Fuck! I-“ Jack ground out.His other hand left her breast to curl around her knee, lifting and tugging to enable him to press harder. Darcy whimpered. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. She was coming unraveled and needed something to hold on to. She latched onto Jack’s shoulder and neck as he bent over her and put her mouth to his neck. She mouthed at the tendon and sucked hard where she felt his pulse under her lips. Her tongue flicked to taste the warm skin and Jack made another choked sound as his hips spasmed against hers. She did it again just for fun. He whined in response and buried his face in her hair.

“Christ, Sweetheart, you’re killing me…” Good. Mutually assured destruction. Darcy tried to laugh but it came out as a hiccupping gasp as Jack slipped his hand up her thigh. Of all the days not to wear leggings. His thumb brushed lightly against the seam of her crotch. He drew back to give himself room and he raised his head to look down at her. He pressed harder and Darcy shuddered, wondering if he could feel the dampness in her panties. He let go of her thigh and cupped her, grinding the seam of her jeans against sensitive spots.

“Jack,” Darcy moaned loudly. “Uhh!” He kissed her deeply to swallow the sound.

“Yeah, Darlin’? You like that?” His eyes were so dark they nearly black as they met hers and his mouth pulled to one side in a satisfied smirk. He kissed her again, their mouths making wet sounds as they moved against each other, tongue intertwined. He rubbed circles over her clothed cunt and Darcy moved her hips against him to encourage the motion.

Jack paused all other motion to grip at the waistband of Darcy’s jeans.

“Give me the green here, Darlin’. Let me make you come with my fingers.” Darcy’s brain was down for maintenance. She needed this, needed him. Wanted him to keep going so badly that it ached. This really wasn’t how she had planned to have sex with Jack Daniels for the first time, but needs must and all that jazz. She opened her mouth to tell him to keep going.

A stack of maintenance paperwork slipped off her desk sending a cascade of papers all over her office floor. Her desk. Her office.

“Shit!” She gripped Jack by the shoulders in alarm. “Did you lock the door?” Jack flinched back his eyes as wide as hers. That was all the answer she needed. “Holy shit!” she cursed again. Jack had the nerve to chuckle at her. He took a few steps back and locked the office door. He stepped back into place but Darcy had covered her face in her hands.

“Oh my fucking gods. Anyone could have walked in on that!” Jack kept chuckling. “It’s not that funny,” she snapped at him. She glared at him between her fingers. His smile was wide and his face relaxed. He braced his hands against the desktop and kissed the crown of her head.

“It’s a little funny, Sweetheart. Both of us gettin’ so caried away we forgot to lock the damn door...” Darcy sighed theatrically and thumped her head onto his shoulder.

“That could have been lethally embarrassing.”

“Hmm. Still could be depending on how soundproof these walls are,” Jack said speculatively. Darcy jerked back to look at him. She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“Did you just offer to fuck me so loudly the neighboring offices would hear it?” Jack barked a laugh.

“No. I meant to imply that I would make you moan my name so loud half the building would hear it.” Darcy clapped her hands back over her face with a feral little screech. She could not listen to him flirt with that charming smirk on his face. He laughed at her and gave pecking kisses to the back of her hands.

“Aagh! This is so not going according to plan!”

“Oh?” Jack perked up. He bent forward to murmur in her ear, “Mind fillin’ me in on this plan?” Darcy shuddered violently as his voice sent sparks to already overheated parts of her.

“It – it was more an idea than a plan.” She swayed slightly, feeling dizzy and overheated. “I wanted to be in a nice big bed, plenty of space to roll around in, and no need to worry about being overheard…” There was a pause of several breaths.

“I like that idea. Got any more?” Darcy’s hands slid away from her face. He hadn’t called her silly or boring for thinking that their first time having sex would be in a bed, as she had worried he might. Other partners had, saying she was boring or a mood killer. Darcy just liked being comfortable and having space to figure things out. But Jack wasn’t calling her a mood killer, he was agreeing with her?

“I wanted- I want- to unwrap you. Like a big present. You wear so many frickin’ layers, I always wanna peel them off!” Jack lips moved over her neck just below her ear.

“Done deal, Sweetheart. More,” he growled. He bit at the sensitive skin.

“I have at least three fantasies pinging around in my brain because of your shoulder holster,” Darcy panted. Her mind was fuzzing out but her mouth was running on without it’s input. “Because it’s like this nice dark leather, and you look really hot in it, and there wouldn’t need to guns involved but we could-“ She broke off with a gasp as Jack’s hips thrust against her and his grip went white knuckled against the edge of the desk. He groaned.

“Fuck. Sorry. Shit. For a girl who says she’s not good at talkin’ dirty, Darcy, you sure can get me going.” He took a step back from the desk, removing himself from between Darcy’s legs while still keeping his hands on the desk. Darcy half-smiled at him, feeling untethered from reality without the pressure of his hands or hips against her. They weren’t touching at all now despite the way his arms framed her.

Jack’s tongue flicked out to moisten his lips. “Sweetheart, how serious are you about the bed?” Darcy winced.

“Ah, fairly serious, but it’s not non-negotiable.” She curled defensively as much as their positions allowed her. Jack was an agent, plenty of them were adrenaline jockeys. She had heard tons of stories about wild sexual escapades, some of which were probably true. Would he think it was boring? That she was boring?

Jack sighed deeply and pulled his hips further away. His lean put their faces on a level and he kissed the corner of Darcy’s mouth. She turned in to him automatically, reaching for more, but he broke it off.

“Sorry Darlin’. I can’t keep kissing you locked up in your office and keep to the bed plan.” Darcy stared at him. Jack looked disappointed. Darcy opened her mouth to tell him to forget about the bed and do whatever. He kissed her light and fast. “I want the bed too. I want to lay you out on my sheets and stay there for hours. Want it so slow that it damn near kills us both.” He sighed again. “Swear to god I usually have more control than this,” he shrugged and looked embarrassed. “But you say such sweet shit. Gets to me.” Oh. Oh! Darcy grinned at him, glad to hear that he had been thinking about it as well. She leaned forward to peck his cheek.

“Good.”

“You won’t think it’s good when I spoil all your nice plans for us.” He huffed out, “I should go.” Darcy nodded though her mouth twisted in displeasure. “For the sake of planning, when might the bed thing be occurring?” His voice shifted into a wheedling casual tone. Darcy shrugged.

“Whenever we want it to.”

“Right. So... potentially... this weekend?” A wild grin grew on Darcy’s face. Jack’s eyebrows rose and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Hell yes.”

Jack wandered the halls of SHIELD in a fuzzy sort of haze after leaving Darcy’s office. He had gone there hoping to see her, chat, suggest they grab coffee together, but in the end he had gotten so much more. He certainly hadn’t planned on that almost happening on her desk at SHIELD, but she had kissed him and unnecessary thoughts about appropriate workplace etiquette had dribbled out of his brain. She had kissed him because he knew about Pi day. That had to be the weirdest thing a woman had ever kissed him for. It still made him laugh. Darcy Lewis was a hell of a lot of fun. He had laughed more in the past hour than he did in a week. He hadn’t been expecting that. It was... nice. Nice to laugh and flirt and forget.

He grinned triumphantly as he thought of the upcoming weekend. Darcy had been using that clever brain of hers to think about plans for the two of them, and Jack was excited to see just how many they could get to in one weekend. He had plans of his own as well.

Crap, he needed to clean his apartment. And buy some groceries. He wasn’t sure what kind of food she liked apart from baked goods and coffee. Maybe they’d order takeout. This was the first time in ages he had weekend plans, especially plans with a woman. Though maybe he needed to quit smirking about it, given several people he’d just passed in the hallway had shot him weird looks.  He patted the front of his jacket self-consciously, reminding himself that he had put himself back together before he left Darcy’s office. She had watched him from her perch on the desk as he did, looking like a cat that ate the canary. Being around Darcy Lewis did wonders for a man’s self-esteem.

“It might make things easier if we had each other’s numbers,” she told him before he left. She handed him a florescent pink sticky note with her name and number scrawled across it in wide loops. He programmed the number into his phone as he sat at his desk but hesitated when he was about to crumple up the note and throw it in the trash bin. He left it by his computer while he caught up on emails, a finger rolling and unrolling one corner. When Jack stood to leave for the day, he still hadn’t thrown it away. The pink note stood out like a beacon. Obviously, he couldn’t just leave it there. It rode to his apartment shoved deep into his pocket like contraband. As he hung his jacket up and put his guns in the safe, he found it again. He pressed the sticky edge to the back of the safe. It hung there incongruently against the gleam of his pistols and the matte black of one of his various go-bags. He kept plenty of valuable items in the safe. The little note could hang there where no one but him would ever see it.

Chapter Text

Jack couldn’t contain his nervous energy on Friday. He was so keyed up that the jiggling on his leg had knocked the little cup of pens off his desk. Nothing constructive was getting done, so he decided to hit the range. That always centered him. He checked out an array of weapons in different calibers from the armory, found a booth, and began shooting. A man could get too used to shooting only his usual weapons and find his precision went to shit if forced to use another. Jack avoided that trap by doing periodic brush ups with a variety of guns.

He sank deep into the meditative state he went to when shooting. Or at least, he tried to. Thoughts kept intruding. Would she like his apartment? How should he dress? Should he wear his hat? Would she stay the night?

His phone in his pocket vibrated. His first thought was ‘Darcy’. The shot went 3 millimeters wide and he scolded his own distraction. Unless she was cancelling their plans for Saturday night there was little she could be texting him about that couldn’t wait until he’d finished. A top caliber agent shouldn’t get distracted so easily.

But you’re not, are you? Not at the top of your game, haven’t been in years. Face it. You’re past your expiration date. A rusty old pistol that lacks precision. What good is a weapon like that to anyone? They should have left you dead. Would anyone even have mourned you? A useless failure like you…

“Hey man, there you are! I texted you, but you look like you’ve been busy.”

You’ll let everyone at SHIELD down too. Even her. You’ll find a way to fuck that up too, you idiot. What are thinking? Begging a woman like that for scraps of attention? You don’t deserve to touch her, don’t even deserve to breathe the same air-

His paper target came towards him, nearly in front of his nose, and Jack startled. He didn’t remember pressing the recall button. He didn’t remember firing the last of the bullets in his clip.

What the-

“Jack.” He looked around. Clint’s hand was withdrawing from the recall button. The rest of the man was there too, though absent his usual grin. Jack swiveled to face him. He got an unpleasant shock; the Widow was also there, leaning casually against the back wall. He flinched. He hadn’t noticed her or Clint approach.

Dead. Worthless. Maybe this time the Widow herself will do the world a favor and put you down.

Clint was Fucking Concerned. He had texted Jack several times about grabbing a coffee but not gotten an answer. He had given up on meeting up with the man for the day and gone down to shoot some rounds with Nat and there he was. But when Clint had tried to get his attention Jack hadn’t responded. Tapping on someone’s shoulder in the shooting range wasn’t a good idea. Clint didn’t feel like getting shot or gutted by one of the stupidly long knives the man kept on his person. Shouting and waving hadn’t worked, so Clint had broken his concentration another way. Hopefully if the guy was feeling jumpy, he'd shoot the paper target rather than anyone else. The man didn’t break shooting stance until the target nearly smacked him in the face. Ordinarily Clint would find that funny, but it didn’t feel like a ‘ha ha’ moment.

When Jack turned around, Clint saw deep furrows in his forehead and by his mouth. His breathing was off. Clint would have thought he was pissed off, but there was something wrong with his eyes. He wobbled as he turned to face them, then he saw Nat and twitched. Shit was about to hit the fan. He really didn’t want to have to try to subdue Jack, but there may not be a choice.

“Jack,” Clint repeated, trying to reach the man. He didn’t take his eyes off Nat.

“Agent,” said Natasha in a crisp clear voice. “I have new information for you regarding the Malkovich issue.” Jack inhaled sharply and was silent for several heartbeats. He blinked rapidly and his eyes lost some of the fogginess. His face didn’t relax, but the hand that had been clutching the gun did.

“Widow,” his voice sounded creaky and choked. “That ain’t a thing to be discussed in public.”

“Perhaps not. It’s nearly the end of the day and there’s a good coffee shop a block over.” Jack jerkily nodded his assent and turned to attend to his weapons.

Not today. Maybe someday, but not now.

Would it be better to be taken out by the Widow than a man he had counted an ally? Jack wasn’t sure. His head was pounding and his mouth felt impossibly dry. Coffee sounded fucking awesome right about now. He cleaned up after himself and returned the guns to the armory. Widow and Clint followed him up to his cubicle where he collected his things and they all walked together to the café. Jack thought they’d go in silence, but he ought to have known Clint better.

“Are you busy next week? Steve’s thinking of coming in to do some training with the upper agents and the tactical response teams. I bet you’d like to meet him! People usually do.”

“Steve?” Jack grunted.

“You know, Steve! Steve Rogers!” That did get his attention.

“Oh. That Steve.”

“Yeah, so you wanna met him or not?” Clint bobbed up and down as he walked, Nat leading and Jack bringing up the rear. “Cuz’ I think it’d be really funny for Steve to meet a cowboy. Worlds colliding, ya’ know? He’s mostly an east coast boy. I’m not sure he’s ever met a cowboy.”

“You do know that I haven’t actually herded cattle in years, right?” Clint snorted and flapped his hand. They entered the café and ordered coffee.

“So you’re more of an urban cowboy these days, that doesn’t answer my question about meeting Steve.”

“I’m sure he’s a fine man, he is friends with Darcy after all, but-“ Natasha interrupted him with a delicate sniff.

“That doesn’t say much.” She gestured between herself and Clint as they took seats at a small table. “She is friends with us also.” Jack’s lip twitched.

“Hmm. Point taken. Anyways, you said you had information for me?”

“Yes. I have confirmed at least four other instances of Malkovich making advances at female colleagues. Three turned him down, and he proceeded to speak poorly of them to others.”

“Dick.”

“Yes. The fourth woman did go out with him.”

“I’m sure he was a real treat.”

“I can’t confirm his dating performance. The woman wouldn’t speak about it.” Jack stared hard at the agent. Her poker face was excellent.

“At all?”

“She made some evasive comments about it being fine but became more upset when I inquired further.” He frowned at her. “Yes, it’s nothing solid. I began to look outside SHIELD.”

“That’s where things get interesting,” Clint interjected.

“He has a truly prolific online dating history. The number of women who have blocked him on different social media and dating apps must be well over 100.”

“Busy bee.”

“Unluckily for the women of the tri-state area. I’ve been working to access some of his private chats with the women. He gets very nasty, doesn’t take rejection well.”

“Lots of unsolicited dick pics,” Clint added. Jack sipped at his coffee.

“So we know he’s an unpleasant individual, and I feel sorry for any woman that does get involved with him, but we don’t have anything actionable.” He didn’t wish harm of that sort on anyone, but it would make matters much easier if the Widow had managed to dig up assault charges or a restraining order. “If that’s all you could find, she might be safe. He’s a slimy bastard but I bet he always knows just where to toe the line.” Clint grimaced.

“He is. I’ll be putting fleas in certain ears about watching him closely. Just because we can’t find evidence of him being outright violent or abusive doesn’t mean he isn’t. And his online behavior could become a liability.” Jack and Natasha nodded. They all knew the score. Intimate partner violence was underreported, particularly when the abuser was in a position of high authority like cops or politicians. Maybe Malkovich was just a fucking creep, or maybe no one had been willing and able to report worse behavior.

“I will also be discreetly warning other women of SHIELD about his bad habits. It would be better if I knew whose well-being you were so concerned about.” Jack slurped his coffee obnoxiously. It was Darcy’s decision how to deal with Malkovich. She clearly hadn’t told her friends about the incident. Jack would respect that.

“She rejected him. She’s too smart to go out with a shithead like that. She’ll likely avoid contact.” And I can make sure she’ll never even need to consider it. He entertained thoughts of keeping Darcy busy enough that she didn’t pay any attention to Malkovich or any other man for that matter. His body relaxed as he remembered that he had plans on Saturday, plans with her. He leaned back in his chair and swirled his coffee contentedly. He could feel the others watching him, but unless they had hitherto unknown psychic abilities, there was no way they could know.

Unless Darcy had told them.

“I would have thought you would use any available resources to protect this person.” Jack glanced at the Widow’s blandly concerned face.

“Tryin’ to manipulate me, Widow?” She shrugged at his callout.

“For a good reason. Sometimes men like this will escalate. Sometimes they will snap. I could help keep her safe.” Jack raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t wrong necessarily.

“I’m not giving you her name. You can use some of your goddamn resources to monitor Malkovich. He steps out of line, he gets brought down, simple as that.” Natasha pursed her lips at the heat in Jack’s voice, but she nodded. “And attempting to manipulate me with a woman’s safety is a shitty thing to do.” His voice lowered and the tension crackled. “Do that again, and we will be having words.”

“Are we not having words now?” Asked the Widow blithely, batting her eyelashes in an imitation of an innocent. Jack leaned forward.

“No, at the moment we are having a frank discussion about how far you can push me. I don’t give a fuck what other games you play, but leave me, and her, out of them.” The innocent mask fell away leaving the cold professional.

“Understood. But I am curious. If you don’t tell me, perhaps I’ll go looking myself.” Fuck. He should never have mentioned her in the first place. He stood. There was nothing to be gained by staying.

“I’ll be heading out now. Thank you for your assistance,” he told her politely as he touched the brim and his hat and left.

“Well fuck, now I really want to know who the hell he’s protecting!” sighed Clint.

They were meeting tonight. Darcy tried not to panic or bake ten thousand cookies as she attended to all the little bits of hygiene she felt necessary. She had made peanut butter cookies with chocolate drizzle. They were a simple classic, plus flinging the chocolate around had been fun. She stared at several potential outfits laid out on the bed. A simple jeans and t-shirt combo that kept things casual. Leggings and a pretty sweater that would be comfortable and easy to take off. A few dresses that made her boobs look incredible. What would be best? Her hair was tamed, nails painted, simple makeup applied, and now she needed the perfect outfit to seal the deal.

She rubbed at the sleeves of the plush purple robe that Clint had given her for her last birthday. He hadn’t been in the country for it. Bruce had handed the package to her with an apologetic grimace. “He’s sorry he can’t be here, Darcy. He hoped he would be back by now.” Darcy had taken the package and ripped apart Clint’s horrible wrapping job and cooed with delight at the robe’s softness. Bruce handed her a certificate declaring that she had been enrolled in a coffee of the month club and she would be receiving her first box next month. “That’s just from me.” Darcy had grinned.

“It’s perfect! I can enjoy my exotic coffees in my new robe. Thank you, Bruce!” She squeezed his arm (not a hugger the Hulk) and Bruce looked much less hangdog.

She was stuck in place still rubbing her sleeves when Jane barged in.

“There you are! Thor was talking about ordering sushi and then we realized you weren’t there!” She stopped and stared at the bed. “You are going out.”

“Brainy Janey,” sighed Darcy. “I texted you that I was going out tonight, remember?”

“Did you? Oh. Well, did you say where you going?”

“I… did not.” That got Jane’s attention. It was unlike Darcy not to provide details even if Jane scarcely remembered them. She perused the bed looking for more data points.

"AH HA!” She snatched up the bra Darcy had been planning to wear. “This is your best bra! You save it for special occasions because the company stopped making this one. You’re going to have sex!” Darcy sighed again. Jane’s brain was a labyrinthine mystery that could remember long strings of mathematical formulae (but not what she had been texting about this morning) and apparently the fact that Darcy’s good bra was the blue flowery one.

“Who’s having sex?”

“No one in here, Tony!” Darcy yelled at the eccentric billionaire who had just peeped his head around the door.

“Well that’s disappointing. Who’s up for some platonic sushi from Nishimura’s then?”

“Can’t. I’m going out.”

“Not in that you’re not,” Tony declared as he pointed at the jeans and t-shirt. “The sloppy look only works for supper skinny people and rich idiots.”

“Gee, thanks,” muttered Darcy as she shoved the jeans aside. “Please tell me how you really feel.” Tony shoved past Jane and Darcy to get at Darcy’s closet, which he began riffling through. “What about this one, then?” She demanded as she held up a fun vintage dress.

“Not unless the guy feels like fucking Ms. Frizzle, which could be a fun roleplay, but that stuff should really be discussed first.” Darcy growled. She liked that dress! Jane joined Tony at the closet.

“You still haven’t said where you’re going, or who you’ll be having sex with,” Jane pointed out helpfully. Only the thought of smudging her eyeliner kept Darcy from flinging her arm over her eyes melodramatically.

“Who do you think?”

“Whoa.” Jane turned from the closet. “You and the cowboy? Did Nat’s info help that much?” Darcy shrugged. Natasha’s info would be useful eventually. At least tonight Darcy might get confirmation if Jack actually liked peanut butter. “Good! You can finally answer our hypothesis about his favored sexual positions.” Tony cackled from the depths of her closet, where he was currently crawling around on his hands and knees being swallowed by Darcy’s shoe collection. Darcy flopped on to the bed with a groan. Her hair would be a little pre-mussed, but she hadn’t expected it to stay tidy around Jack anyways.

“Here! This dress with these leggings!” Tony’s hand thrust out a soft pair of very thin leggings printed to look like black lace stockings and a navy-blue wrap dress that fell just above her knees. “And these little boot thingies!” He unearthed a pair of vintage leather boots with short spiked heels. Darcy held up the dress.

“Are you sure? It’s just something cheap I bought that time I spilled tomato sauce all over myself at that conference in Amsterdam and needed something else to wear ASAP.”

“And it’s so plain,” added Jane, knowing Darcy’s love of eccentric patterns.

“So accessorize!” Tony waved his hand. “Oh, what am I trying to explain to you for, Jane. You think flannels are the height of fashion for any season.” Darcy snorted as Jane tried to defend the number of flannel shirts she owned, but she did roll off the bed and look at the row of scarves hanging on the back of the closet door. She grabbed a soft lacy shawl with tiny glimmering beads that she had knit two years ago. She held it up for Tony’s approval. He nodded and she grabbed the outfit to change in the bathroom.

Darcy almost wanted to wear a different bra to spite Jane, but it really was her favorite. She eyed herself admiringly in the mirror. The company was evil for no longer making them. The wrap dress and bra gave her boobs a nice boost without being obvious, and the leggings would keep her from freezing in the New York fall. When she added the shawl it hid her cleavage, which was an unfortunate side effect. She shrugged. She could always take it off later. Hopefully, Jack’s apartment wouldn’t be freezing.

This was happening. She was going to his apartment. She had been shocked when he suggested she come to his apartment with the tacit implication of a hookup via text. She honestly expected the first couple times would happen in a neutral location like a hotel. Getting invited to Jack’s apartment was a big sign of trust from the agent. Just don’t fuck it up.

She exited the bathroom and did a fancy twirl for Tony and Jane, who applauded and wolf-whistled. She threw on her peacoat and then she headed out of Avengers Tower via the discreet private elevator. Certain people knew where she lived, but most remained completely unaware that a small number of non-Avengers personnel lived in the tower. Darcy and Jane had apartments in the Avengers section, but there were also some guest rooms in the lower floors for Avengers allies or the occasional stray person befriended by one of them.

Darcy walked to the restaurant and picked up the Chinese food she had ordered. From there she took a cab to Jack’s place. The building was nice looking but seemed to have little to no security. Weird. She had expected cameras everywhere. The elevator was small and rickety, but at least it got her to the third floor. All of the doors she passed had personal touches, doormats, paper pumpkins, wreathes. As she passed by one door bedazzled with ghosts it flew open and multiple screaming children poured out into the hall. It seemed a ridiculous number of kids to be coming out of one apartment. An adult trailed in their wake, looking like they could do with a triple espresso. They smiled curiously at Darcy as she passed. Darcy nodded politely.

Jack’s door was blank. Darcy wasn’t surprised. This might not be the actual apartment he slept in regularly. Nat and Clint had multiple bolt holes and safehouses in New York City as well as other major cities around the world. It wouldn’t surprise her if Jack had some as well. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to control the butterflies in her stomach. You are Darcy Motherfucking Lewis. You have tased gods, fought aliens, lived with superheroes, and worked for shady government organizations. You are funny and sexy, and you are going to have a not-date with a handsome spy. You can rock this shit, no problem!

She rang the doorbell. The door flew open in less than a minute. Jack stood in the doorway looking slightly rumpled. He wore a dark green dress shirt with the top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, with no tie, tucked into black slacks. No hat either.

Do not pounce on the delicious man. Do not pounce on the delicious man. Do not-

“Hi,” Darcy said breezily. “I brought the food.” She held up the heavy brown paper bag. Jack gave her a small smile.

“Hi, thanks for picking it up.” He took it from her and set it on a small table right beside the door. “Come on in.” He closed the door behind her as Darcy got her first look at his apartment. It was not some utilitarian bolt hole full of cheap furniture as she had expected. The color palette was full of warm browns and reds, with dark wood shelves and a squashy leather couch. The shelves were chock full of books, photographs, and doodads. Jack’s hat and a leather jacket hung on a rack by the door. It looked cozy and lived in.

“Can I take your coat?”

“Oh, sure!” Jack’s hand peeled the coat off and he hung it on the rack. She caught him giving her a discreet once over. She thought she caught a gleam of appreciation in his eyes.

I am in a heap o’ trouble, Jack thought as he helped Darcy with her coat. She was standing there in his apartment in her pretty little dress and heels. Overdressed to come over and eat Chinese food. Dressed up for him? Damn what a nice thought. It made him glad he’d at least worn a nice shirt and slacks. He almost wished they could go out on an actual date; him, her, good dinner, funny movie, and then back here for the rest of the night. But they weren’t dating. This was a casual evening that would hopefully lead to some sex, and hopefully that would lead to more sex in the future.

 She didn’t have to get all gussied up. Dacy could have come over in sweatpants and one of her funny t-shirts and she’d still have made him horny as hell. She could have asked to come over just for sex, and Jack couldn’t have complained about it. That was their deal. But Darcy had told him when they were texting that she required at least 30 minutes of ‘chit chat’ before fucking, and since she was coming over right around dinner time she might as well bring over some food for fuel. She had called it ‘an efficient use of time and resources’ and he couldn’t refute it. Besides, a beautiful woman wanted to bring him food. Jack would have to be a complete idiot to turn that sort of offer down. He didn’t object to ‘chit chat’ either. Talking to Darcy was always an interesting experience. Maybe she’d have some weird questions about his favorite animals or favorite non-traditional holidays.

Jack was glad to see her and the food smelled great. The part where he found himself in trouble was that he really wanted to keep touching her after he took her coat. He wanted to kiss her hello, ask how her Friday went, hold her hand as he showed her around the apartment. Normal things. For people who were dating, which they were not.

She was still turned away from him, examining the apartment. Darcy probably wasn’t citing all possible points of entry or the locations of hidden weapons caches. She tugged the soft frilly thing off her neck. Jack blessed himself for the forethought of turning the heat up. The dress dipped in the back and her hair was pulled to one side, leaving the back of her neck a tempting target. Surely a man could greet the woman he was intending to have sex with with a little more than ‘hi’. Surely.

Jack stepped up behind her, bracketed her hips with his hands, and pressed his mouth to the nape of her neck. He felt her shiver. Her head bent forward. Her arms crossed over her stomach, and her hands tangled with his before she pulled them around her. Jack could a hint. He wrapped an arm tight across her stomach and the other across her shoulders, holding her close. Darcy made a soft sound of approval and ran her hands over his forearms. Her head tipped to the side and Jack kissed the side of her neck just under her ear. She hummed with approval again.

“Sweet,” Jack whispered. He nuzzled, inhaling her scent. All flowery today, with no trace of the usual coffee. He wanted to bury himself there and never come out. It was a stupid thought, he knew, but it was enough to jar him out of the haze. Too self-indulgent. That’s enough. This was about Darcy and what she wanted. He needed to stay in control of himself. No going off script. She might walk out and call the whole thing off if he did. He loosened his arms and stepped back to create a bit of space between their bodies.

“So, what…” He had been about to offer her a drink but trailed off when she turned to face him. Darcy’s shawl had covered the low neckline of her dress and the sizeable cleavage it exposed. It was a lot more than she usually showed off at work. For a second Jack’s brain spun out into thoughts of all that silky pale skin and how much he wanted to just stand there staring like a dumbass. BEHAVE, he snapped at himself. You’re a grown man, not some idiot teenager! In a herculean display of willpower his eyes snapped back up to her face. She was smiling at him. Goddammit. I didn’t know tactical shawls were a thing. But they clearly were, as Darcy’s mischievous smirk evidenced.

“See something you like, Jack?” Darcy couldn’t resist teasing him. It was almost cute the way his eyes had bugged out, overwhelmed by the boobage. He wouldn’t be the first guy to fall for this move. Since high school, depending on the shirt and bra she wore, Darcy had rarely had to pay for her own drinks. An odd superpower, but a funny one. She awarded Jack extra points for actually remembering to look her in the eyes after that. It made her laugh. Jack’s mouth twitched.

“Why you little devil, you did that on purpose!” She laughed more, bracing herself against his chest.

“Yup! Gets ‘em every time!” Jack’s kiss stopped her from laughing, and they were both soon breathless. Darcy felt punch-drunk and giggly as they pulled apart.

“Not nice, Sweetheart, teasing a man like that,” Jack growled. His eyes were bright with amusement. Darcy shrugged.

“Is it really teasing if I want you to touch?” She slid a finger along the edge of the fabric, and Jack went hunter still, watching, waiting. Really, what the hell was the man waiting for? A person in a highvis vest holding traffic flags shouting ‘go’? He had started this when he had kissed the back of her neck and made her knees go all wobbly. He seemed ready to go then, so what was stopping him now? She traced the line of her collarbone and went down the other edge of neckline. Jack watched intently as she tugged at where the fabric met and overlapped. His hands at her waist clenched. Darcy stepped closer, crowding him, pressing them together with her hand trapped in between.

“Ja-ack, whatcha’ thinkin’ about?” Darcy sang at him.

“I’m thinkin’ if you don’t quit teasin’ me, I’ll lay you out on that table and eat you for dinner instead!” He snapped. Darcy couldn’t help the shiver of elation that went through her at the feral tone in his voice.

“Well that sounds good to me. We can always microwave the Chinese food.” He stared at her for 5 whole seconds before Darcy found herself being scooped up and laid out on the dark brown leather couch.

Jack knelt between her legs and began kissing her hard. Darcy’s hands flew to his head and shoulders. Their mouths clashed wet and hot. The only sound in the apartment for several minutes was the wet smack of their mouths. One of Jack’s hands had gotten trapped under her back and the other supported his weight and kept him poised above her. Darcy hated it. She whimpered into his mouth and tried to pull him down, but he was too strong. He pulled his mouth away.

“Something you wanted, Darlin’?” His voice was raspy and teasing. Darcy opened her eyes to glare at him. He smirked. She tugged at him again. He rolled his hips, brushing lightly against her, making her gasp. But he didn’t repeat the motion. “Not yet,” he told her firmly. He unburied his hand from the small of her back and placed it on her midriff. His hand slid up from there until he curled one of his fingers in the v of her dress. “I think it was here you said you wanted me to touch?” Darcy nodded frantically and Jack rewarded them both by dragging his finger lightly up the center of her cleavage. His finger kicked off tingles in its wake and Darcy burned for more. She needed more.

“Please, Jack, please,” she whimpered. His hand cupped her breast and squeezed. His head fell to her chest and he began to place tiny kisses along her neckline. She moaned as his finger rubbed over her nipple. Her hands gripped the back of his head and she dragged her nails across his scalp as she pulled him closer. Jack groaned and he increased his pace, swiping his mouth across any inch of skin he could reach. His hand switched sides and pinched her other nipple. Darcy yelped in shock and dug her fingers into the meat of his shoulders. He murmured an apology against her skin.

Then his thumb hooked around the fabric of her bra and dress and pulled them aside. His tongue flicked over her nipple and Darcy moaned, her back arching like one of Clint’s bows, and he sucked it into his hot mouth. His hand freed her other breast and played with it, running his fingers along its curves, the calloused digits impossibly gentle.

Darcy couldn’t take much more of this. If Jack didn’t get a move on she might murder him right there. She took the initiative and began unbuttoning his shirt, sliding her fingers down each inch of his torso she revealed. It was Jack’s turn to moan when she tugged the hem of his shirt free and pressed her hands against the taught muscles of his stomach. He didn’t have much hair on his chest, but the skin wasn’t smooth. Darcy could feel irregular bits of raised texture. She opened her eyes to see.

Scars littered Jack’s skin like constellations, each one a precious datapoint. Jack had stopped kissing her skin and hung above her with his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open in a gasp as she mapped evidence of his past battles. Darcy was familiar enough with some of the shapes that they made sense; here in his shoulder was a sealed hole from an old bullet wound, a perfectly straight two-inch scar in his side where a knife had gone in, and a irregular shaped patch of shiny skin showed an old burn on his ribs. Others were less clear, a tiny scattering of raised scars right across his left pec, an irregular line near his waist, and so many more.

Most of them were faint, years old, but one across his lower abdomen was still fresh. That one she remembered. She had watched the doctor clean it after a bullet had grazed him. Darcy remembered wanting to hold the prickly agent and tell him that he could relax, that he was safe. Darcy finally did what she wanted and pressed her hand across the length of the fading red mark. She felt his muscles bunch and flex under her fingers as Jack sighed. She rubbed it gently. He opened his eyes and looked down at her.

“I wanted to kiss you then too,” she recalled. Jack eyes flared wide. She had startled him.

“I- Fuck - I,” Jack bit out as he struggled with something. Darcy captured his lips and gave him the gentle kiss she had wanted to in the medbay. Jack melted and laid his full weight against her, chest to chest and hips to hips. They both sighed at the contact.

“Shit, Sweetheart, I-“ Jack cut himself off before he said something really stupid and occupied his mouth with kissing Darcy’s neck. She had wanted him back then, in the medbay? Fuck but that was weeks and weeks past. He could have been kissing her this whole time. Fuck! He sucked a hickey into existence on silky skin. The way she touched him was nothing short of divine, her finger skating over his ribs to clutch at his back, as if to draw him even closer. Her dexterous hands worked to push his shirt off his shoulders and he had to sit back to get rid of it. Darcy made an unhappy noise, and he looked down at her. Gorgeous. God what a picture. Her laid back against his couch with her tits bare and her mouth swollen from kissing him. Jack wished he were one of those agents with perfect memories so that he could keep that image with him for the rest of his days.

But none of those agents were here, and Jack was. He got to be here, with her, right now. The life of a spy was never really safe; even if they ‘retired’, old enemies could come looking years later. Jack had been living on borrowed time for years now, he was more intimately acquainted with death than most. Tomorrow he could die on a mission. Tomorrow Darcy Lewis could meet some handsome brainy professor and decide she didn’t want or need a beat-up old spy. But tonight! Tonight it was just them.

Jack fell onto Darcy with purpose, kissing her fiercely. If tonight was all he ever got he’d make it a good one. Her fingers curled into his hair and he let her direct the pace of their mouths as his mind followed the movements of his hands. They inched up her thighs, appreciating the thinness of her leggings, and dipped under the hem of her dress. God bless elastic waistbands, he thought as he began to tug it down. Darcy gasped and he stopped.

“Too fast?” he mumbled against her mouth.

“No!” She growled, “Not fast enough!” She bucked her hips against him and he grinned.

“Roger that.” He tugged the leggings and her underwear down past her knees before he had to sit up again. He smiled wildly down her, now with a great deal of leg revealed.

“If you don’t quit stopping to look at me like that we won’t be done until midnight!” Darcy snapped at him with her face flushed. Her grey eyes were bright with impatience and her hair was fluffed up until it was haloing around her head. She propped herself up on her elbows to better glare him into speed. Messy, sexy, and keyed up. He took up one of her ankles and haltingly slid the zipper of her boots down, tossing it somewhere behind him. “Jack!” He just smirked and removed the other one even slower. Darcy began wriggling and pushing her leggings off. In a demonstration of speed, Jack grabbed both her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head and took control of the clothing removal with his other. The leggings and underwear hit the floor as Darcy stared up at him with her eyes wide.

“That’s my job, Darlin’. Yours is…” He trailed off as Darcy made an incredible sound and arched into him. Her pupils were blown wide, but he hadn’t even started yet. “Oh,” he breathed wonderingly. His hand holding her wrists tightened. Darcy moaned. “Oh,” he repeated. “You like that, Darlin’?” Darcy nodded frantically, eyes closing in embarrassment. Jack’s breath hitched as he struggled for control. His free hand settled gently on the outside of her thigh where he rubbed soothingly. “Fuck.” His voice came out like he had just swallowed a handful of gravel. His mind went into overload as a thousand possible future scenarios danced before his eyes. He felt like a kid on Christmas morning, opening a box covered in shiny wrapping paper with so much enthusiasm and hope for all the amazing potential presents that could be inside. Jack closed his eyes and tried to think of baseball stats. If he didn’t, he was going to come in his pants.

“Shit, Darcy, jus’ when I thought you couldn’t get any sweeter.” Jack buried his face in the side of her neck, his breathing unsteady. He lowered his hips to rest against hers and Darcy felt the prominent tent in the front of his pants nudge her. She rolled her hips and Jack cursed harshly. “Give me a sec’, just a sec’. God, Darlin’ we are definitely doing something with handcuffs or ropes-“

“Tie,” Darcy croaked.

“Hm?” He raised his head to look at her.

“One of your ties,” Darcy managed to get out as she felt blood pound in her cheeks. Jack’s face went completely slack. She saw a flash of color rise in his face for once as he stared at her in disbelief. She didn’t realize until he took a gulp of air that he had also stopped breathing. His jaw clenched.

“Been thinkin’ about it?” His voice was so raspy it was barely intelligible. It sent shivers through her. His hand on her thigh tightened and lifted her knee so that she pressed against him better. “Thinkin’ about me takin’ it off and using it tie your wrists down like this?” His hand flexed. Darcy moaned and nodded, shutting her eyes. Yeah. She had thought about it a lot, even before that day in her office. It really didn’t help that she remembered one of his special skills in his file was ‘ropework’. She doubted that SHIELD had meant bondage, but still. Her panties had been damp since he had bitten her nipples and now there was a steady ache. If she had been flying solo she would have given in and finished it, but she couldn’t. Jack had her hands.

“That’s beautiful, Darlin’. Fuck, I can picture it so easy.” He kissed her deeply, sucking on her tongue. “We’ll do that too. All of it. Anything.” His hand tucked under her knee had brought it above her waist and he began to grind his hips slowly against hers. Only a few rolls of his hips had Darcy nearly sobbing. She needed more, just a little more.

“Jack!” she wheezed. He hummed in satisfaction.

“Feelin’ good, Sweetheart? You ready?” Darcy opened her eyes to meet brown eyes gone nearly black and Jack’s feral smile. She wriggled, trying to free her hands, but his grip was too strong. “Need you to say it, Darce’,” he chuckled.

“Yes,” she choked out. “Please! I –“ He cut her off with kiss. His hand moved from her knee to flip up her dress and his fingers began to probe her, seeking their way through her folds. The tip of a finger pressed inside her and Darcy lost her mind.

“Holy fuck.”

 She let out a strangled moan as she came, muscles clenching, and heat drenching her. Jack’s other fingers kept working, plying over heated flesh to find where she was most sensitive, drawing out the pleasure. Jack was murmuring something above her, but it was all white noise. Finally, Darcy sagged back into the couch and Jack’s fingers slowed.

“God, Sweetheart, didn’t know you were that close. Wouldn’t have messed around so much. Fuck, that was hot as hell.” Jack’s fingers around her wrists loosened and his thumb stroked her skin. He kissed her cheek, her nose, the corner of her mouth, her chin, dragging his lips lightly across her face as she tried to remember how to breathe. “Beautiful, so beautiful,” he murmured.

Darcy shivered and reclaimed her hands. She needed something to hold on to so she put them in Jack’s hair. He bumped his forehead against hers and stayed there, mingling their breaths in the warm air. Her skin still felt like it was on fire. She was guessing that it wouldn’t stop feeling that way until she actually stopped touching Jack, but she didn’t want to. She curled tighter around him, hooking her legs around his waist. She felt like a koala, hardly the sexiest animal, but couldn’t bring herself to care.

Jack’s heart was pounding so hard against his ribs that he was sure it would bruise. A prideful joy had suffused him and he felt drunk with it. Darcy was curled tightly around him, with her eyes still pinched shut, and her breath coming out in sharp bursts. It was fucking incredible. She was fucking incredible. He made her feel good. Very good, apparently. His hands caressed her shoulders and did their best to draw her hair back from their faces. He kissed the arch of her top lip. Darcy’s eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him and kissed him sweetly.

“Your turn, Cowboy.” Jack shivered. He was hard and aching. At this point Darcy could pretty much whisper some filthy things in his ear and finish him off. One of her hands began migrating south, sliding down his front. He bit his lip hard and started listing Superbowl winners in his head. Darcy’s grin shifted to something more dangerous as her hand reached his waistband. She leaned forward and bit his bottom lip, sucking it. “That’s my job,” she told him as she released it. Then her hand undid the button on his trousers and began slipping the fly down. He hissed through clenched teeth at the small relief in pressure, which swiftly became a choke as her hand brushed against his dick with only the cotton of his underwear as a barrier. He let her rub just for a few seconds before he propped himself up on one arm to create space and used the other hand to recapture hers. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but any more and I’ll shoot off like a startin’ pistol.” Darcy raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, that’s generally the goal,” she snarked. Just for that he kissed her again.

“Yeah, maybe we could both be naked?”

“Oo! Good idea!”  He chuckled. Darcy brought her legs down and began to wriggle to get her dress off.

“It’s been known to happen.” Jack sat back and helped her pull her dress over her head. So much skin, he thought dreamily. All of it so soft and kissable. In fact, some of it showed signs of his attentions already, with little red marks blooming on her breasts and neck. He watched with appreciation as she unhooked her bra and tossed it to the floor to join the rest of her clothes.

He stood and shimmied off his pants with no ceremony and let them fall to the floor. Darcy was already moving, running her hands along his torso, her touch like a brand. She kissed his hip and his legs nearly gave out. He twisted to land in a seated position with both feet on the floor. Darcy swung her leg over him and suddenly he had a lap full of Darcy. Naked Darcy. With both his hands free to roam. Then she started kissing his neck and chest and Jack lost any sign of having complex thought processes. He could only clutch at her while she decorated him with kisses and nips of her teeth.

Jack’s hips began to move without his say so, grinding up into Darcy, but not positioned correctly. One hand gripped her ass while the other knotted itself into her hair. The sound he made was barely human as she bit down on the place where his neck met his shoulder. He needed to be inside her now, needed it like he needed oxygen, and oxygen was starting to feel like the more secondary need. 

He forced his hands to move with more purpose, cupping her tits, sliding his hand from her ass towards her cunt. Darcy started to shudder and pant. Their mouths met and her tongue stroked his. He shifted to widen his legs and give himself more room to move. His fingers swiveled and he cursed the angle. But Darcy’s back still arched and wet heat coated his fingers. Her nails sunk into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks, tiny pinpricks of pain that he relished. He pressed the tip of his finger into her again, but this time he sank deeper. Darcy threw her head back and moaned. He withdrew and used the space her movement had created to snake a hand between them. It was easier now to find the places that made her gasp and buck. His fingers were drenched when he sunk two inside her and ground her clit with the heel of his palm. He crooked them slightly and Darcy started to shriek before the noise was cut off. Jack looked up. Darcy had clapped a hand over her mouth and was making muffled sounds into it.

“No,” he whispered. He started sliding his fingers in and out, probing to find the angles that made her tremble. “Let me hear it, Sweetheart, need to hear, need to know-“ He kissed at her cheeks and hand. He found a good angle and worked it mercilessly. Darcy’s hand transferred to his hair and he moaned as she gripped too hard. It didn’t matter. She could snatch him bald and he wouldn’t stop. The sounds were too incredible. She let a constant stream of whimpering moans, their bare skin made slapping noises where they moved together, and his fingers squelched in her slick.

“Oh god, oh god, oh fuck, I , uh!” Her voice grew higher and he knew she was close.

“Darcy, can I-“ He cut off as she palmed his dick and guided him to the entrance and then swallowed him with a deep roll of her hips.  He made an embarrassing gurgling noise as the sensations hit him. He had intended to go slow, easy, let them learn each other’s shape. As usual, Darcy Lewis scrambled his plans along with his brain. Her hips began making small motions, grinding against him. She gripped him hard and made a mewling noise in his ear. Instinctively he turned and bit at her neck as his hands found her hips and began supporting them in a deeper, faster rhythm. The sounds were even better now, louder, more intense. He loved it. He could have gotten off on the sound alone.

“That’s it, Darlin’,” He growled. “So good, that feels so good sweetheart, fuck, just a little more!” His hips hit a spot that made Darcy scream. She clenched around him and he came. He fucked them through it, hips nearly coming off the couch as Darcy writhed above him.

A small eternity later his hips slowed. Darcy was slumped against him so closely he couldn’t see her face. Her hands had gone slack around his shoulders. A thin sheen of sweat covered both of them and Jack could feel wetness trickle between their thighs. The sound of them both gasping for breath filled the apartment. There was no world outside of the apartment. Jack’s mind floated mercifully blank as he wrapped his arms around Darcy’s back. Pleasure blocked out any discomfort or thought of moving. Nothing else mattered as he felt the rise and fall of her back under his hands.

Darcy was pretty sure that the apocalypse was coming. She wondered vaguely if it would be freaky ancient curses or advanced aliens. A little known fact about living through multiple world ending events was that the sex afterwards tended to be incredible and life-affirming. Darcy had just had some very good sex, therefore APACOLYPSE! Usually, the good sex happened after the world was saved though. Fuck it, maybe someone on the other site of the world had saved it this time and Darcy was just reaping the rewards. How nice of them.

She basked in the afterglow and enjoyed the heat of Jack’s skin where it pressed hers. She was wrapped around him so tightly she was pretty sure she’d need to be peeled off with a crowbar. But eventually they’d need to deal with the stickiness and eat dinner. Why was she always the responsible one? She raised her head from where she had buried it in Jack’s neck. His head was tipped back against the couch and his eyes were closed. Darcy took a minute to enjoy the view. She liked the slight curve of his nose and how ridiculously fluffy his hair had become. His skin was flushed a deeper tan than usual and his face was completely devoid of any tension. He looked years younger.

I did it! I got the sexy, tightly wound cowboy to relax! Darcy had many goals in life, not Goals with the capital G, like own a house or get a high salary (though she really wouldn’t object to those). Smaller goals, like be maid (ha ha) of honor at Jane and Thor’s wedding, convince Steve that his art was awesome and enter it into an exhibition, pull off the ultimate prank and conclusively win the prank wars, and see the new Star Whatever movie that was coming out next month. She had impulsively made the goal of getting Jack to unwind and open up ages ago. Well, mission accomplished! Now she just wanted to maintain it. Keep seeing those bright smirks and pretty eyes. It was such a good look on him, and it felt amazing to have any of it directed at her. Darcy leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth. It immediately lifted in a smirk.

“Oh good, I was worried I fucked you into a coma. I would have to eat all that delicious Chinese food by myself.” He laughed and cracked open his eyes, looking sleepy and content.

“Can’t have that, can we?” His hands moved soothingly up and down her back. Darcy felt like purring. He lifted his head and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Post-sex cuddling and kissing had to be one of Darcy’s favorite dating activities. She kissed him again and suddenly they were trading achingly light kisses, lips barely sliding together then apart.

It was abruptly spoiled when Darcy’s stomach rumbled loudly. Jack broke the kiss laughing.

“Whoops! Guess it’s time to fuel up. Wouldn’t want you fainting of hunger.” Darcy rolled her eyes at him. She shifted her weight, hissing as they finally came apart. Yeah, she would be sore tomorrow. It had been months since her last partnered dance so to speak, but it had been oh so worth it. Jack’s hands gripped her hips, steadying her and helping her into a more graceful dismount. He led her to the bathroom and left her to clean up in peace after swiping a damp washcloth over himself. When she came out of the bathroom he was in a pair of black sweatpants and he held out a pair of grey ones and a t-shirt.

“You could wear these, if you like?” He offered. “Not that the dress wasn’t fucking incredible, but these might be comfier?” She happily wrapped herself in the cozier clothes. They smelled clean and were super soft. She had to roll the waistband of the sweats a few times and the t shirt was big on her everywhere but the chest.

“So you liked the dress, hm?” She snickered a little. Jack put his hands on his hips and grinned.

“I loved that dress, particularly the tactical shawl deployment.”

“Tactical shawl! Ooh I’m using that phrase from now on,” Darcy giggled.

“Be my guest,” Jack drawled. Just don’t go using that tactic on anyone else but me. He tried to shoo the possessive thought away but had little success. It was damn hard not to feel possessive of Darcy while she was running around his apartment in his clothes after having sex with him. Damn but that t-shirt looked really good on her. It was one of his old ones that said ‘Statesmen Distillery’ across the top right. He hadn’t worn it in a long time…

He must have drifted for a second because when he looked again Darcy was standing closer to him with her fingers lifting his chin. She smiled softly at him.

“Hey, Cowboy, my eyes are up here,” she crooned. He started and gave her a half-hearted leer.

“But it’s such a nice view.”  She nodded.

“It certainly has it’s uses.”

“Mhm. Like seducing poor unwitting cowboys to their doom?” He murmured as he pressed her back to the wall. He cupped one breast, listening to her breath hitch. They both watched him drag his thumb over a hardening nipple. “The dress was good, but I think I like you wearin’ my shirt even better.”

“So you’re into t-shirts and sweatpants?” Darcy tried to quip, but it didn’t work. Her blush was bright enough to be seen from outer space.

“If you’re wearin’ ‘em, yeah.” He leaned in and nibbled at her ear. “You could walk around wearin’ a trash bag, Darlin’, and it’d still be the sexiest thing ever.”

“Hah,” Darcy sighed as he brought his other hand up so he could play with both tits at once. “Mmm.”

Jack wasn’t quite ready for a second round yet, but maybe Darcy would like a third orgasm before dinner? But then his stomach growled and ruined a perfectly nice moment. Darcy laughed at him as she slipped from his grasp and tugged him towards the kitchen island that doubled as his eating space.

“Come on Cowboy, you’re the one who’s going to faint from hunger!”

Chapter Text

They reheated the Chinese food and ate with gusto. When Darcy saw Jack going for a third eggroll she snatched it out of his hand.

“Hey!”

“Hay is for horses, Cowboy. Save some room for dessert!” Darcy reached into the Chinese food bag and brought out the Tupperware of cookies. Jack went very still. “Um, so I made cookies? I’m not really sure what you like, but these are usually pretty popular so…” she trailed off. Jack was staring at her. Crap. Too far, Darce! Jack cracked open the container and checked out the contents. Suddenly all the fun she had had flinging the chocolate drizzle felt childish and clumsy and not nearly good enough.

“Did – did you make these for me?”

“Er, yeah. They’re peanut butter and chocolate, but maybe you’re more of a lemon-lime kind of guy, so you really don’t have to eat them if you don’t want-“ Darcy broke off because something was wrong. Jack hadn’t stopped staring at the fucking cookies like they were a bunch of hand grenades. What the Frig was going on?

He struck fast like a snake, both hands cupping her cheeks and pressing his lips to hers. Darcy was so confused and off balance. She gripped the thin cotton of Jack’s t-shirt for dear life as he kissed her passionately. She gasped for air but he stole it from her, swirling his tongue into her mouth with greedy abandon. Filthy wet sounds echoed from both of them as Jack finally eased up after a solid minute of devastation. He let her go and pulled back, and Darcy nearly tipped off her chair in his wake.

“Ah, um, what?” Jack’s face had gone stony and hard to read.

“No one’s done anything like that for me in years.” Oh. Yeah. Darcy had guessed that ages ago. She still didn’t like hearing that Jack had been on his own for that long. But he’s not alone anymore. I’m going to make sure of that.

“Hm,” she murmured as non-judgmentally as possible. “So do you like chocolate peanut butter cookies or…” Jack sighed and slid his mouth across hers again.

“Yeah, Darlin’, I really, really like ‘em.”

“You haven’t even tried them. They could be terrible.” Jack smiled minutely and plucked a cookie out of the container. He took a huge bite that sprayed crumbs over his moustache. Darcy took one herself and tried to pretend she wasn’t watching him for the slightest sign of displeasure. It never came. His smile grew wider as he took more bites until the crinkles at his eyes were etched deep. He looked happy.

She felt warm from the tips of toes to the top of her head. Darcy had always liked feeding people and desserts tended to make people happy. Bringing in cookies hadn’t worked so well in high school or college, but adults seemed more receptive, glad for the sucrose serendipity. The strategy had won her friends in a lot of places. Feeding Jack wasn’t about strategy. It was about the way he stared at the cookies as though they were more precious than platinum. It was about the way he was grinning now and sucking little bits of melted chocolate off his fingers. And was about the way seeing him smile made Darcy feel like fireworks were going off inside her chest.

Darcy leaned over and kissed his cheek. He raised an eyebrow at her. She shook her head, grinning at him.

“I like seeing you smile,” she told him. “It’s a really good look for you, Cowboy.” The dear man actually looked a bit embarrassed. It made Darcy feel braver. “Like a really, really good look!” She put her arms around his neck and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. The shy smile morphed into a smirk as he got the idea. His hands smoothed over the tops of her thighs. She wriggled to the edge of her seat and took the leap of sliding herself across his lap. Jack wrapped himself around her, hugging her close, passing his lips over her face and hair until she caught him in another kiss. He was warm and solid and steady. They kissed lazily, almost sleepily.

Until Jack’s hand began to slide up her inner thigh. Darcy moaned and snapped her legs shut, trapping a few of his fingers. He swiveled them and began directing pressure against her seam.

“Problem?”

“Hunh!” She gasped as he hit a good spot. “H… Who’s teasing now?”

“Is it teasin’ if I intend to make good?” He pulled back. “But if you don’t want any more…”

“Didn’t say that! I just think it’s dumb to get us both all fired up and then…” He was giving her a weird look. “Jack, we can’t go for another round tonight, it’s just not going to happen!”

“You sure?” He prodded the same spot and watched her shudder. “I get it if you’re too sore or tired, but it seems like you’re enjoying this.”

“I am! But it’s not going to go anywhere!” Darcy flushed under his assessing gaze. “You made me come twice already.”

“Oh!” His face lightened. “It’s usually twice for you?” Darcy’s mouth twisted. It was usually one with the occasional two. She nodded anyway. “But you’re not too sore or tired,” Jack checked. “If you are, we can watch a movie or something and I’ll behave myself, but if you’re not,” he punctuated his words with kisses along her jawline. “I’d really like to go for number three.” His teeth scrapped over her earlobe. “I’d like to see what you look like spread out on my sheets in nothing but my t-shirt.” His words made her remember being pressed up against the wall just before they ate dinner and the way his hands had cupped her through the ancient cotton of his shirt. She wanted him again. It felt absurd. They weren’t in a porno, how much sex could average people really have in one night? One more round, she decided. This perfectly ordinary person could go for one more.

She stroked her hand against her jaw and turned him up to kiss her again. Their mouths moved in the same lazy rhythm as before, but Jack’s hand hadn’t moved. Darcy loosened her legs, but instead of continuing his hand settled near her knee. For all that Agents were supposed to be experts at reading body language, it seemed Jack might have missed that class at spy school. Darcy lent him a hand (literally) and dragged him back to finish what he started. He finally got the memo and put his fingers to work. Darcy pressed at the back of his hand, egging him on.

“Yeah, show me-“ Jack’s voice broke off in an almost painful moan. Darcy quit kissing him.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Fuck, I just had a brilliant idea. Go with me on this one, Sweetheart?” She nodded, wondering what he could be up to. “Awesome. Get up.” Frowning, Darcy complied. He stood and walked her to his bedroom with his hands on her hips, pausing only to dim the lights. Guessing what Jack was thinking of, Darcy slipped off the borrowed sweatpants and laid back in the center of his bed propped up on her elbows. He froze with his t-shirt half off, staring at her with his eyes full of hunger. Darcy smirked at him.

“See something you like?”  She wriggled enticingly. He flashed her a grin and stripped like his clothes were on fire.

“Oh, you know I do, Darlin’.” He paused, hovering over her on his hands and knees. “You look like a dream.” He toyed with the hem of the t-shirt where it sat high on Darcy’s thighs, leaving a trail of fire in the wake of his fingers.

“Good one, I hope,” Darcy murmured. Jack cocked his head and gave her a half smile.

“Mhm, the best.” He finally let his hand roam up her torso to toy with her breasts. She could feel the warmth and soft stimulation of the shifting cotton against her skin. She sighed and arched her back, pressing up into his touch. Her nipples were stiff and Jack pinched one gently. He rubbed and plucked expertly, and Darcy couldn’t look away from his thick fingers against the dark fabric. He ducked his head and nibbled. She moaned at the sensation, hands clenching in the navy blue bedspread, watching the flash of white teeth so carefully applied. Her legs began to tremble as a hard knot of want formed in her lower belly. Jack squeezed her other breast and took the nipple into his mouth. The threadbare old cotton became soaked through and Dary could feel his tongue lave like he could lick clear through the fabric.

“Jack,” Darcy whined. He released her and leaned back to appreciate his work. There was heat pooling between her thighs and Darcy wanted him to touch her there so badly it ached.

“Beautiful,” he said. It wasn’t fair. There he knelt looking all calm and composed and she felt like she was going to fly into a million pieces at any second. Jack took a breath and lowered his head like he was going for another round. Darcy seized the back of his neck and dragged him down into a kiss, his weight pressing her into the bed even as his tongue pressed into her mouth. When they finally parted for air, Darcy felt better for seeing Jack struggle to remember how to breathe. He grinned.

“You distracted me from my plan, Sweetheart. Let me get back to it now.” She raised an eyebrow.

“I thought the plan was you, me in your t-shirt, and a bed?”

“I added something. C’mere.” He shuffled around until he sat back against the pillows. He pulled Darcy to sit between his legs and lean back into him. His hands clasped over her belly, holding her close. “Comfy?” His mouth was right by her ear and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back.

“Yeah, but what- mmm!” Jack’s fingers swept through her folds of her pussy. She grasped at the hand over middle that kept her still. She heard a slight huff of laughter from Jack as he stroked her.

“I want you… to show me… what you like,” he purred. He took her hand and laid it over his. “I wanna know what you do when you’re all on your lonesome. Teach me.” Darcy couldn’t tear her eyes away from where their hands intertwined. She had never tried anything like this with previous partners. Jack’s fingers trailed so lightly across her skin that she could barely feel him. She wanted more. She pressed at the top of his hand and he obeyed, increasing the pressure against her. She moaned. “That it, Sweetheart? Only there?” She shook her head frantically and began dragging his hand into the pattern and rhythm she liked. He was a quick study and both their fingers were soon slick

It felt incredible. It was so good, but so different from when she was by herself. His fingers were thicker and longer than hers, but the motion was perfect. She directed him to rub against her clit and nearly sobbed at how good it felt. She shivered in his arms. She was so wet. Jack kept whispering things in her ear about how gorgeous she was, how soft, how good she was being for him.

Darcy reached a tipping point, “Now!” she moaned, shoving Jack’s hand further down. He got the message and she felt one his fingers breach her hole. He tensed and groaned behind her as she held him still.

“So wet,” he rumbled. His tongue flicked against her ear. “Fucking soaked.” She shuddered. His hand that was clasped against her belly moved up to massage her breast. Darcy moaned. “Can I move yet, Darlin’?” She scrabbled helplessly at his hand, not having enough air in her body to speak. He slowly drew his finger out and plunged it in again, sliding beautifully against a bundle of sensitive nerves. “Gotta tell me, honey, faster? Slower?” His finger made slick slurping noises as he pumped.

“More!” Darcy moaned helplessly.

“Hm?”

She grabbed two of his fingers and guided them inside her, filling her up. Then he hit a good angle, crooking his fingers slightly, hitting that spot she liked, and she screamed. She didn’t need to tell him to do it again. He fucked her faster and faster with his thick fingers, hitting that spot almost every time. She writhed even as she pressed the heel of his palm to grind against her clit and fell right over the edge. Lighting ran through her, burning and crackling. It felt like it lasted forever. Jack kept moving long after she would have lost all control, drawing the lightining out endlessly until Darcy was a limp mess lying against his front. His fingers slowly withdrew and gently stroked against her overheated flesh, making her croon softly, as he murmured praises in her ear. Her blood pounded in her ears but her head felt light. A good one. A very good one.

It took her several minutes to no longer feel like she was about to float away. She started fully upright, jerking out of Jack’s arms.

“Holy Shit!” She twisted around to stare at Jack who was still reclined back against the pillows. His eyes were heavy-lidded and a tiny smile played at the corners of his mouth. You’d think he’d just come from how satisfied he looks! The thought made Darcy look down to note that yes what she had felt against her back was his dick and he was still hard. Good. She bit her bottom lip and grinned. “Holy Shit.”

She loved the way the lower light created a hazy glow across his tanned skin while robing him partially in shadow. Now he was the one laid out for her, a feast for the eyes.  It sent a thrill of power through her veins. She sat bracketed by his well-muscled thighs and ran her hands across the skin  of his legs furred lightly in dark hair. There were more scars she hadn’t seen earlier, including a sizable one that twisted the flesh of his upper left thigh. That one looked like it had hurt a lot. She made a mental note to kiss that one later. Like Jack, she had a plan.

Darcy braced her hands on bed so that she could kiss him. He sighed happily as her lips brushed his. His hands braced her hips and moved to grip her ass, pulling at her gently to urge her closer. He always seemed to want her closer. She moved a hand to lazily stroke his chest and stomach before meandering down the brush the head of his cock, already weeping pre-come. He jerked back against the headboard and moaned. She firmed the touch and watched the pleasure race across his face, his head tilted back with his mouth slightly open and eyes pinched shut, looking positively hedonistic. Lost to everything but the feeling of her hands on him. Her fingers circled his cock and began to gently work him, pumping, slicking him. She dragged her thumb across his tip and Jack shuddered.

“Sweetheart,” he rasped “I’m real close, I-“ She did it again and felt his hips make an abortive jerk. She pressed her other hand against his hip bone to remind him to keep still. Darcy knew she didn’t actually have a hope in Hel of restraining him that way, but Jack obeyed and kept himself rooted to the bed. She smirked. A man who could take direction. Hot.

She lowered her head and licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, savoring the slow drag of his softest skin over her tongue. All the muscles of his stomach went tense under her hand and a strangled sound emerged from his lips. She mouthed lightly at the tip and looked up at him. All earlier relaxation had vanished, replaced with tension ashe stared down at her with rapt fascination.  She smirked and bobbed the tip into her mouth, suckling lightly, putting on a show as she met his gaze.

“Fuck!” He gasped as she did it again, taking in more of him. One of his hands carded the front of her hair back and rested on the crown of her head. Darcy began to move more fluidly, bobbing her head to suck him in and using her hand to stroke what she couldn’t take in her mouth. Jack panted above her, his grip in her hair tensed to the point of pain, but she kept going. She massaged the velvety skin with her tongue and Jack came with a hoarse shout, his hips spasming into her, wetness spilling over her lips even as she tried to swallow and suck.

He finally stilled and most of his muscles eased. She let his cock slip from her mouth and looked up to see him staring at her with eyes so dark they nearly black, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, his mouth half-open.

“Holy shit.” It came out sounding rougher than a two-pack a day smoker. She smirked up at him self-satisfactorily. His hand slid from her hair to cup her face as his thumb ran across her lips shiny with come and spit. “Jesus. Fuck. Holy Fuck,” he mumbled. He tugged her forward to sprawl against his chest, kissing her deeply. It was absolutely filthy, and Darcy didn’t care.

When they finally parted they were both panting and sticky all over. Darcy slumped bonelessly across Jack’s chest and listened to the thud-thud-thud of his heart under her cheek. His fingers drew little patterns where they rested across her back. Their legs tangled together. After several minutes Darcy’s toes started to get cold and thestickiness and unpleasant taste in her mouth forced Darcy to roll off Jack and onto the bed beside him. He made a discontented noise and turned on his side, slinging an arm across her waist.

“Stay. Please.”

“I really need water,” she countered. He blinked sleepily at her.

“I meant the night. Stay here?”

“Oh!” She didn’t really have to consider it. It was late. The bed was comfortable. Jack was warm. Jack wanted her to stay. “Okay.” She sat up. “Still need water though. And to clean up.” He sighed and sat up too, rolling easily to his feet in one fluid motion that she envied.

“Wanna take a shower?” Darcy grimaced and nodded. They scraped their discarded sweats off the floor and headed to the bathroom where Jack turned the shower on and grabbed them some washcloths and towels. Darcy hopped eagerly under the gentle spray as soon as it was warm enough. She turned her face up to the water and sighed in relief.

Jack’s hands came round her waist and his lips brushed her shoulder as he stepped in behind her. Water sluiced over them both and steam began to rise. Jack scraped her hair to the other side of her neck and kissed her neck.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re working on cleaning up,” Darcy noted archly.

“Oh no, I am.” She heard the chuckle in his voice. He reached past her to a little shelf of products and squeezed out some body wash. He lathered it between his hands and Darcy’s stomach and began to run soapy hands across her skin drawing out little sighs of pleasure. It felt wonderful. She tried to remember the last time she’d showered or bathed with a partner and couldn’t. Her last serious partner had been Brock, and he worked out at least once a day; his showers fast and utilitarian. No time for small joys like this. Darcy tipped her head back to rest against Jack and let him do all of the work of washing and keeping her upright. All the tension, the good and the bad, were wiped away under his careful hands. She felt safe here in his arms, knowing that he wouldn’t let her slip or pass out. Occasionally his hands or lips would brush against some sensitive area, making her shiver, but he kept the touches light and easy.

She was nearly comatose when he asked, “Want to wash your hair?” Even annoying practicalities like her hair care routine couldn’t jar her out of the sense of peace. Without her usual products her hair would probably end up a frizzy mess, but if she didn’t it would turn into a rats nest. She nodded reluctantly.  He swiveled her around to face him and dug his fingers into her hair, massaging the shampoo against her scalp. She startled, not expecting that he would help with her hair too. It felt strange having someone else take care of everything like this.

It's not like I’m hurt and can’t do it myself. It just feels really good when he does it. I don’t need to do anything, Jack’s got me.

“You’ve got so much more than me, takes way more shampoo,” Jack chuckled. The meager amount he had doled out barely sudsed half her hair. It made her laugh too. She got more shampoo and scrubbed with much less patience than he did. When she was rinsing with her head tipped back into the spray, Jack kept the bubbles from going in her eyes. Somehow the tenderness of the gesture nearly made her cry.

Casual hookups didn’t do this for each other. If this were a hookup, Darcy would have already been in a cab speeding for home. She trusted Jack a lot more than she had ever trusted some of the people she had been in casual arrangements with. Apocalyptic sex, good food, getting each other off again, and now this? It was a one hell of a (not) date.

Hazily, she looked up at him. He was rinsing the last bit of shampoo from the ends of her hair, rubbing the strands between competent fingers. A trail of water ran from his hair that was plastered back against his skull, past his temple, down his cheek, around his jawbone, and down past his neck and chest. Jack was smiling in an absent way and seemed content in his task. Would he be so tender if he didn’t care about her? If this were solely about physical things? No. Jack could be harsh and unfriendly, but when it was just the two of them he was… softer, still intense but also considerate and funny. Whatever he had said in the stairwell about not being in a relationship and just using each other, Darcy didn’t feel used.

She wanted this to happen again: Takeout and sex, cookies and kisses, flirting and showers together, all of it. And she wanted it to happen on a semi-regular basis as their hectic schedules permitted. He had told her in the stairwell that he would be monogamous. How did all that not add up to a relationship?

Ridiculous commitment-phobic cowboy spy!

Darcy went up on her tip-toes to give him a peck on the lips. Jack looked bemused, smile lines gathering at the corners of his warm brown eyes. No, this didn’t feel like a one-time thing or a casual hookup.

“Your turn,” she told him before pumping some bodywash into her hands. Jack gave her a big grin and stood happily for her, leaning into her touch. She ran slick hands over solid muscles, following the little runnels of water across his golden skin, occasionally diverting to reverently touch old wounds. When she finished, he obediently ducked his head to let her wash his hair. Jack was practically purring like a cat by the time they climbed out of the shower.

They dried off and put clothes back on. Jack found her a small towel for her hair. He dug around in his bathroom cabinet for a minute before coming up with a pack of toothbrushes and offered Darcy the choice of pink or green. Darcy chose green because the thought of Jack eventually using a pink toothbrush was funny to her. Clean, they went back to the bedroom, turning out lights along the way. Jack cracked up at the mess they had made of his duvet.

“Hang on a sec’,” he told her. He got an old quilt out of a closet. It was a classic log cabin pattern in shades of forest green, navy, and russet, old and well loved. Jack chucked the duvet into a corner and spread the quilt over the bed.

“I’m going to get your pillows all wet,” she warned him sleepily. Her hair was nowhere near dry. He gave her a gentle push and she sat on the edge of the bed where he took the towel and worked at drying her hair.

“So long as it’s not blood, I don’t much care,” he told her with a kiss on the forehead.

“How many sheets have you ruined by accidentally bleeding on them?” Darcy chuckled as she wormed her way under the covers.

“A fair few,” he admitted. Jack hesitated at the edge of the bed.

“What’s up? Am I on your side?” He shrugged.

“Well yeah, but first I need to…” He gestured vaguely towards the living room. “Erm…” Darcy yawned and shuffled to the other side of the bed, flapping a hand at him.

“Sweeps, I know,” she told him. Jack nodded. He went into the other room, and she heard him checking the locks at the door and drawing curtains over the windows. She heard other metallic clatterings that she decided was probably him checking weapons caches too. He came back and slid under the blankets, turning out the light, and snuggling up to her. She turned into him so that he wouldn’t have a face full of wet hair to contend with, hardly romantic.

“How’d you know about the security sweeps?” Darcy tucked her face into his neck. He was warm and smelled all fresh and clean. She draped an arm over his waist and intertwined their legs.

“Clint does them too before sleeping,” she mumbled. Jack stiffened.

“Oh, ah, I didn’t think you two were-“

“Eww!” Darcy snorted. “No! Not that! But sometimes when the movie parties run late and we’re all really comfy no one really wants to go back to their rooms…” Jack was silent and completely still. Darcy was abruptly no longer sleepy. “He doesn’t do them every night, I don’t think, but lots of times after a battle he or Nat will run a check.”

“How often do you stay over?” Jack asked slowly. Darcy sighed and untucked herself, propping herself up on a pillow. She couldn’t see much of his face in the gloom but his eyes gleamed and she saw the annoying furrow that he got between his eyebrows when he frowned. She’d really like to kiss it away, but it didn’t feel like the right time to try that particular tactic. It wasn’t like she’d been lying to him, but she didn’t make a habit of casually giving out her address either.

“I don’t. I live there, with them, at Avengers Tower.” It came spilling out in a rush. “It’s Tony’s fault really, I mean, it makes sense that Jane would live there because Thor’s there, but I had my own place when we first moved here. One time Tony was getting rid of some outdated computer monitors, so I asked if I could take ‘em, and then I bribed him with apple strudel to get him to help me bring them back to my apartment. He came over to my place, took one look, said ‘fuck no, I’m sending a moving service to pack you up tomorrow’. I tried to argue about it, but you know how expensive New York is, and I was over at the Tower so much anyway. I made him draw up a lease contract though. He lets me pay the same amount as I was before with the stipulation that he gets a baked good of his choice once per month.” She finally ran out of words. It was a little embarrassing. It was definitely some form of charity, but a little swallowed pride on her part was worth it to get to live with her friends. Jack was quiet for a while as he digested the new information. Darcy listened to his breathing in the darkness.

“It makes sense now,” he said finally.

“What does?”

“Nothin’ important, just some stuff I heard.”

“Oh that!” Darcy snorted derisively. “Is that bullshit rumor about how I must be sleeping with one of the Avengers still going around?”

“Mhm,” Jack hummed. It was Darcy’s turn to stiffen. She shifted and sat up, pulling away from him to circle her drawn up knee.

“Well I’m not! They’re my friends! Good friends! Thor and Jane are more like family to me!” Jack sat up as well and flicked on the light. He was indeed frowning heavily at her.

“I never thought you were,” he said carefully. “I only heard someone mouthing off about it.” He touched her cheek. “It’s none of their business, and it’s none of mine.” Darcy glared at him.

“I’m making it your business. I haven’t had sex with any of the Avengers, and I need you to know that!”

“Alright, Darcy, alright. I read you loud and clear,” he murmured gently, still cupping her cheek. Darcy deflated slightly. No, he really didn’t; She wanted it to be his business who she might have slept with, but he had told her in the stairs that day that they weren’t in a relationship and that she wasn’t ‘his’ anything. It didn’t stop her from wanting it.

“Okay,” her voice cracked. “Just as long as you get it.” He nodded, but none of the frown lines on his face lessened. His thumb brushed across her cheekbone.

“Did somebody not get it before, Sweetheart?” Something unclenched inside her when Jack called her that. He wasn’t running for the hills at the idea that she was close with the Avengers. It was something at least.

“No,” she croaked. “But I’m not deaf. I know the SHIELD water cooler gossip. I’d honestly be surprised if you hadn’t heard that rumor from somewhere.” Jack slid an arm around her shoulders and tugged her back towards him, tucking her head under his chin.

“Yeah, I heard it, but considering it came from that scum, Malkovitch, I wasn’t inclined to give it much credence.”

“He’s always been an asshole,” Darcy sighed. She inhaled deeply, letting Jack’s scent soothe her. “I can handle him though.”

“I remember. You told me that before too. Have you had to ‘handle’ him a lot?”

“Not really. Back when I was seeing Brock, he mostly kept his mouth shut, but he’s bolder now.”

“And Rumlow doesn’t fucking stop him?” The anger in Jack’s voice made her loop her arms around his waist. It was cute really, that he cared.

“Why would he? He’s not saying anything I haven’t heard before. And when he makes a pass at me, I just turn him down.” Jack held her tighter.

“Well, you shouldn’t have to!” Darcy rubbed his back, trying to soothe away the unexpected vehemence. She pressed her lips to the pulse beating in his neck.

“You’re a good man, Jack Daniels.” He jerked like she’d shot him.

“I’m not, Darlin’, I’m really not. His voice was deep and gravelly, full of old pain. Darcy was too tired to try to dismantle a veteran spy’s baggage tonight.

“We can debate the moralities of spycraft some other time. You’re good to me, and that’s something.”

Without another word, he turned off the light and pulled her down to sleep, nestled tightly to his chest. Darcy fell asleep quickly, absolutely exhausted, but Jack was awake for far longer that

Chapter Text

Cookies. She made him cookies. Clint had told him that Darcy did stuff like that, but it really hadn’t prepared him for it actually happening, what it would feel like to sit there with her offering something she had made solely for him. There was a fucking tornado inside his chest churning up debris, sending walls crashing to the ground, ripping up flawed foundations, and stirring up things he thought long dead and buried. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? What the consequences would be? He can’t stop it now. Too late, too late, far too late.

A weapon like him doesn’t need peanut butter cookies. You wouldn’t try to fix a blade that’s been dulled and chipped. Could you truly trust a gun that had so badly misfired it nearly took a third of the world with it? Jack is a poor weapon it’s true, but Darcy’s never treated him that way. She’s never treated him as a weapon at all. In her hands he’s been cleaned, treated for wounds, given water, and now peanut butter cookies. Weapons don’t need much more than a little maintenance and reloading before they are used again; they shouldn’t crave and be given so many precious things like smiles and silly jokes. Jack’s thoughts tangle like string. A weapon’s life is simple; it exists to be used. It was easier to only be a weapon after Statesmen revived him. He thought Darcy might want a weapon. But you don’t need to make peanut butter cookies for a weapon.

The tornado inside him only spun faster.

Beside him, Darcy had fallen silent, waiting for him to respond, but Jack couldn’t explain that there was a tornado inside of him, kicking up the dust of old memories from when he was a person called Jack Daniels. He kissed her instead with all the force of the storm.

It wasn’t long enough. He didn’t think it’d ever be long enough, but he pulled back anyways. Darcy stared up at him with her cheeks pink and her mouth glistening red. She was off balance and looked slightly shaken. Good. Maybe now she had a slight inkling of how he was feeling. How she made him feel.

“Ah, um, what?” She panted.

“No one’s done anything like that for me in years.” A true statement that fell ridiculously short, but you can’t go ‘round telling people that they made you feel more human. Best case scenario they looked at you funny, worst case people backed away and started talking about alien invasions getting harder to detect.

Darcy nodded in understanding (though there was no way she could) and asked if he liked the cookies. It’s a silly question. As if he could not like something she had made just for him. Though he really does like peanut butter. He kissed her again for being silly and told her that.

“You haven’t even tried them. They could be terrible.” He very much doubted that. He happily took a cookie and ate it. It was good. It tasted even better than the ones he’d tried from the breakroom. He took another one and made himself eat that one slower, savoring it. If he were by himself he’d have lost all control and eaten most of them in one go even if it made him sick. Jack licked the little bits of melted chocolate from his fingers, feeling like kid, but it was too good to waste even a crumb.

Darcy leaned over and kissed his cheek and said she liked his smile. The spot she kissed felt hot and the muscles in his face ached from smiling so much but he couldn’t stop. She made him feel giddy. He wants another hit already. Luckily Darcy seemed to be of the same mind as she slipped her arms around his neck. Jack abruptly had a lapful of Darcy and he was not complaining. Jack wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the way they fit together, and pressed his lips to every inch of skin he could reach. ‘Thank you’ didn’t seem like enough for what she had given him,so he thanked her silently with as much care as was left in him.

She kissed him and it tasted like his favorite things, like peanut butter and chocolate and Darcy Lewis. Jack did his best to keep it slow, to savor every second. He craved more. Maybe it was being greedy, but he did. He slid a hand up her leg in an almost idle manner, wondering if she’d let him lay her out on the counter where they’d just eaten and eat her instead. Darcy’s thighs clench around his fingers and he grinned at the strength in them. The pressure only helps him massage her.

“Problem?” He joked. This would be easier if she gave him more room to work, but he’s never been one to shy from a challenge. Jack admired the way her breath hitched and her lips parted. He wanted to kiss her again, but she accused him of being a tease. “Is it teasin’ if I intend to make good? But if you don’t want any more…” He eased his fingers back, if only so that she’d know what she’s missing.

“I just think it’s dumb to get us both all fired up and then…” She actually looked embarrassed. Jack was very confused. Does she seriously think we’re done for the night? Why shouldn’t we have more if we both want it?  “Jack, we can’t go for another round tonight, it’s just not going to happen!” He did his best to throttle the feeling of disappointment rising in his gut. But he had thought she was into it. He pulsed his fingers against her core and watched her mouth go slack with pleasure. He could feel dampness through the sweatpants. She certainly didn’t seem done for the night.

“You sure? I get it if you’re too sore or tired, but it seems like you’re enjoying this.”

“I am! But it’s not going to go anywhere! You made me come twice already.” Yes, he had, and Jack considered that the bare minimum for a successful sexual encounter. Darcy deserved far more than the bare minimum and fuck all if Jack didn’t want to give it to her.

“It’s usually twice for you?” Some of her hesitance made sense. If she wasn’t used to more… Her ex-lovers should be marooned on a desert island and not let off until they’d made a thorough study of female anatomy and the Kama Sutra. Rumlow might be hard to catch though, might have to settle for just shooting him, he mused. “But you’re not too sore or tired? If you are, we can watch a movie or something and I’ll behave myself, but if you’re not,” he feathered more kisses across her skin, trying to recapture the buzz, remind her just how good they felt together. “I’d really like to go for number three.” He did his best not to sound like he was begging. He really would sit and watch a movie if she wanted to cool down, but he desperately hoped she wouldn’t. His teeth scrapped over her earlobe. “I’d like to see what you look like spread out on my sheets in nothing but my t-shirt,” he admitted hoarsely.

The fantasy was only an hour old but it was none the less potent for that. Darcy in his shirt, in his bed, tangled among dark sheets. All his. Just his. She wasn’t his, he knew that, but for a little while he could pretend.

She kissed him and his foolish fancies popped like soap bubbles. She hadn’t said yes. She was letting him down easy. There would be no more sex tonight. Disappointment flared, but he refused to let it show. He could take it. Watching a movie and maybe necking a little would be good too. He might have to excuse himself to the bathroom a few times to get a handle on things, but that was no fault of hers. Her teeth caught at his bottom lip, testing his resolve. He kept his hands at her knees and waist. He could control himself. He felt Darcy relax and he forced himself let go of everything but her lips on his.

He had only just settled back into the slow pace when Darcy changed the game by grabbing his hand and pressing it to her cunt. He felt like a first-class idiot. He had forgotten that Darcy had a hard time saying what she wanted, what she needed, so she was showing him instead. Jack kept the pace of his stroking fingers slow, matching the rhythm of their kissing, letting the heat build back up again. But Darcy wanted it faster, harder, and she ground his hand against her core, trying to guide him.

“Yeah, show me-“ He couldn’t help making a choaked moan as an image struck him; Darcy laying in his bed showing him exactly what she wanted, teaching him how to give her the most pleasure, using him in the best way possible. His fantasies collided and set off an IED in his brain. She asked him what was wrong and he could barely talk. He’d very much like to pick her up and carry her to the bed, but he couldn’t trust his knees not to buckle and shake he wanted it that much. They made it to the bedroom and Jack began to strip off the clothes that he’d only put on an hour ago.

Darcy was faster. There she was, her creamy pale legs against the blue of his bedding, the old t-shirt from his past life wrapped around her sweet curves, and her mischievous smile that made her eyes sparkle and shine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, his brain gabbled.

“See something you like?” Jack smiled helplessly. There was so much to like about this situation that he’d be damned if he could name it all. He tried to give it voice and told Darcy she looked like a dream. He meant it. Whenever this thing between them ends (of course it will) he will be left with these lovely memories of a beautiful, kind, hilarious woman who made him feel human again. They could blow his brains out a dozen times and he will still remember this dream. He wants her to remember him too.

He caressed her slowly, remembering things she liked from their first go-round. He worshiped her tits until she was trembling and moaning his name. He sat back and enjoyed the effects of his work. Darcy’s cheeks were flushed, her nipples stiff peaks he could see clearly through the spit-soaked cotton, her mouth open and panting little whines of pleasure, and a slick glimmer clinging to her inner things.

“Beautiful,” he told her. She deserves to be told that every day. It won’t be him that gets to say it though. Darcy grabbed his neck and pulled him down into a deep, wet kiss. It was filthy and slow. Her fingers in his hair and pressing against his cheek. It felt as though she were consuming him, greedy for him. He loved how out of breath and wound up they both were when Darcy finally let him go.

“You distracted me from my plan, Sweetheart. Let me get back to it now.”

“I thought the plan was you, me in your t-shirt, and a bed?” She sassed him. He loved that too. He propped them up against an army of pillows and cradled her in his arms. She fit there perfectly. He was prepared to drive himself insane from the feeling of her back pressing his dick. He was so hard it was almost painful, but he wanted to do this first. Jack started slow, just testing the waters as he rubbed her pussy, feeling the effects of his efforts. Darcy made a strangled noise and scrabbled against his hand that he had spread over her stomach to hold her against him.

“I want you… to show me… what you like,” he explained as he positioned her hand over his. “I wanna know what you do when you’re all on your lonesome. Teach me.” His own stupid mouth was an instrument of his torture now as his brain spun off thoughts about Darcy masturbating and calling out his name. He really might be a masochist.

Darcy was wavering, uncertainty painted across every stiff muscle. He gave her the lightest teasing strokes, his fingers barely skimming her wet skin. She flattened her hand on his and he bore down on her pussy obediently, drawing a sweet moan from her. He teased her more and she gave in, her need overriding any embarrassment. Her fingers coached him in the exact places to touch her that made her scream. Jack did his best to commit everything to memory, learning her needs so that he could meet them again and again and again.

“That’s it, Darlin’,” he murmured as she writhed in his arms. “God, that’s amazing. Doin’ so good for me.” She was soaked and their fingers moved easily together. He kissed the side of her head as he poured out praise. This was so hot. He was going to combust. He could feel every shaky breath, every trembling muscle. At last she urged his hand southward and he dipped inside. She clenched around him, slick soft heat, forcing him to remember how she had felt wrapped around his cock. He groaned in want.

“So wet.” He wanted to taste it, but he contented himself with nibbling at her ear. “Fucking soaked.” She held his hand still, but he needed to move or he’d go insane so his free hand played with her tits until she started moving again. Jack drew his digit in and out, feeling for her most sensitive places. “Gotta tell me, honey, faster? Slower?”

“More!” She begged him. He didn’t understand. Darcy forced two of his fingers deep inside and he wriggled them to find… that. Darcy shrieked, arching her back, and began to pump her hips. She didn’t need to, he’d take care of everything. Jack worked her harder and faster, loving the squelching sounds produced by the speed. Then he bore down on her clit and she came with another cry. He felt all her inner muscles tense against him and fresh flood of slick poured out as he continued to move exactly the way she liked it. He didn’t let up until he felt her go completely lax and her moans quieted to soft pants.

“Incredible. Hotter than Hell. You’re so gorgeous when you do that, Sweetheart,” he whispered. He had a contact high from watching. He held her gently as she lay limply in his arms and he drew little patterns on the skin of her tummy to keep himself entertained. It took her a few minutes to recover, but he knew the second she did because she sat bolt upright and turned to stare at him. A man could get used to being stared at like he’d just solved global climate change.

“Holy Shit!” Yup. A man could get used to that. Darcy looked extremely well-fucked and very happy about it. Darcy smiled coyly at him. “Holy Shit,” she repeated. She pressed soft kisses to his lips. Jack resisted the urge to punch the air in satisfaction and pride. Instead he reeled her in, wanting more. She stroked his cock and Jack nearly came right then and there. His head hit the back board as she took him apart.

“Sweetheart, I’m real close, I-“ Darcy stroked his tip and he lost his goddamn mind. Her hands were so soft and gentle, and she pushed all his buttons so effortlessly. His hips thrust and Darcy only pressed lightly against his stomach to sooth him. He whimpered when he felt her tongue lick his dick and trembled with the need to roll them both over and pound into her, but he couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t be right, not when Darcy was already making him feel impossibly good. She was in control now. She had him dead to rights and he trusted that she wouldn’t torture him so beautifully forever. So goddamn beautiful.

She made quite a sight, leaning over him, licking at his dick like an ice cream cone. Her grey eyes shone as she looked up at him, knowing the effect she was having on him. How Jack could have ever thought that he could control any aspect of his interactions with this woman? Darcy had danced circles round him from the beginning and she was doing it now. Even as he watched her swallow him up, cheeks red and hair a mess, she ran the show.

He meant to warn her before he came, but she was too skilled for her own good. By the end of it he was howling like a dog with his hands fisted in her hair thrusting into her mouth. His brain had gone all staticky like an old tv and velvet motes of darkness danced in his field of vision. This static was good though, it was nothing like the horrible red of death. He wasn’t in that snowy cabin. Jack was in New York City with Darcy Lewis having his mind blown in the good way.

“Holy Shit,” he croaked when he finally got enough higher brain function back to talk. Darcy smirked at his lack of wits. He loved anything she might take it into her head to do with that amazing mouth of hers. “Jesus. Fuck. Holy Fuck.” He dragged a thumb across her puffy lips and wanted more. No matter how much she gives him, he always wants more. He pulled her in to lie against his chest and kissed her, needing to be as close as he could get. Then they just lay pressed together for a little while.

Darcy rolled away and Jack’s heart jumped rabbit quick into double time. She’s leaving. God no, please, give me more time! A little whine escaped him as he tried to chase her warmth. It’s not enough. A few hours with her won’t be enough. Jack wants - needs – days, weeks to fill himself up with memories, enough to last him through whatever drought will find him when she leaves.

“Stay. Please,” he begged. He wasn’t too proud to beg anymore. He’ll take whatever she’ll give him with please and thank you, but that won’t stop him asking for just a little bit more.

“I really need water.” Jack was confused. It took him a second to remember that no matter how easily Darcy gets under his skin, she still can’t read his mind.

“I meant the night. Stay here?” She looked surprised.

“Oh! Okay. Still need water though. And to clean up.” Then Jack felt like a rude idiot for leaving them both in their mess for so long. He rolled to his feet and offered her a shower. He felt like a heel as he watched her step with clear relief into the hot water. She made it hard to think, never mind remember his manners.

Watching the water sluice over Darcy’s skin and slicking back her dark hair was entrancing. Starring at her was rather unproductive and unhelpful and probably made him look like a creep. He should make himself useful. He stepped in behind her and kissed the place where neck met shoulder. He could see little red marks that he had made earlier in the evening, nothing that wouldn’t be easily covered by a bit of makeup or one of her scarves, but he’ll know that they’re there. He enjoyed seeing that mark of his presence, however temporary on her skin.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re working on cleaning up,” she observed.

“Oh no, I am,” he teased as he used the excuse of body wash to run his hands all over her. He had thought to turn it into a game, given how playful Darcy was, but she melted instead, relaxing utterly under his hands. Relaxation wasn’t something Jack was used to dealing out. Pain certainly, encouragement on the rare occasion, and passion in some odd nights here or there, but relaxation took trust. Darcy trusted him to hold her steady under the hot spray and let him skim his hands over every inch of skin he could reach. She trusted him to do no harm and take the weight. It was a precious thing to Jack.

“Want to wash your hair?” he croaked when he finally ran out of skin. Darcy’s hair was always so shiny and silky, even when it was a mess. He had no idea what kind of alchemy she had to work on it, but her usual routine was probably a bit more complicated than his two in one shampoo and conditioner. She mutely nodded. Her eyes were barely open as he turned her to face him. She came awake as he soaped up her scalp. “You’ve got so much more than me, takes way more shampoo.” Jack couldn’t help his amusement and Darcy laughed as well. She was much more business-like and efficient than him at getting her hair washed and rinsed.

Baths, he decided, is something else we gotta try. He liked a nice soak to release the tension after a hard mission. He had accidently volunteered this information in a Statesmen council meeting years ago when Agent Vodka had been complaining about their sore knees. No one had ever let him live it down. That Christmas he had been bombarded with bath bombs enough to sink a submarine. Joke was on them, he had tried every single one.

He was jolted out of his memories by Darcy giving him a quick kiss, saying “Your turn.” Well turnabout was fair play, so Jack submitted gladly to Darcy’s massaging touches. She even put those nimble fingers to work in his hair as he put his forehead to her shoulder to let her reach more easily. Her nails over his scalp always made him shiver.

When they returned to the bedroom, Jack couldn’t help but feel pride at the absolute mess they had made of the duvet, particularly the damp patch where Darcy had sat. It’s been a while since he destroyed a bed. He tried not to giggle like an idiot as he got out an old quilt. When it actually came to climbing back into bed he hesitated.

“What’s up? Am I on your side?” He shrugged.

“Well yeah, but first I need to…” He gestured vaguely towards the living room. “Erm…” How the fuck did you sum of decade of paranoia without sounding like a madman? He always did perimeter checks, no matter where he bunked down or what condition he was in. It had saved his life more than once.

“Sweeps, I know,” Darcy yawned so big she looked like a snake unhinging its jaw to eat a chicken egg, unflattering maybe but Jack found it cute. He checked the lock, drew the curtains after checking for trouble or surveillance, tapped several of the hidden weapons just to be sure that they were still there, and got them both fresh glasses of water. Only then did he tumble back into bed. Darcy wove herself around him.

“How’d you know about the security sweeps?” He murmured, halfway to sleep already.

“Clint does them too before sleeping.” What. The. Fuck? His brain seized and he couldn’t control his physical reaction. Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck.

He finally rebooted his brain enough to stammer a response, “I didn’t think you two were-“ Darcy laughed at him and mentioned movie parties where no one wanted to go back to their own rooms. Does she have roommates? Does Clint stay over a lot?

“He doesn’t do them every night, I don’t think, but lots of times after a battle he or Nat will run a check.” Why the fuck does she know that? He knew that she was friends with Clint and Thor, but the Widow as well? How many of the Avengers did she know? And there was no way Clint and Romanoff were bedding down in an unsecured location post-battle mission. Too easy to pick them off if they were injured. They couldn’t be at Darcy’s apartment, he reasoned, so then she goes to their place. Avenger’s Tower?

“How often do you stay over?” He kept his voice as smooth and controlled as possible, not wanting to overreact or let any undue emotion show. This was really none of his business. Who she stayed with often enough to know their nighttime habits was none of his business.

“I don’t. I live there, with them, at Avengers Tower.” Holy fuck? What? She told him about bribing Tony (Stark!?) into being a packhorse in exchange for strudel, and him not liking where she was living. Was the apartment a shithole or was the area dangerous? And what gave Tony Stark the right to do that? She pays part of her rent in baked goods? That at least he could understand. But even Stark isn’t crazy enough to let a casual friend live at Avenger’s headquarters. It left one conclusion; Darcy was a hell of a lot closer to the Avengers than he knew. Real close.

He let out a slow breath as pieces slotted themselves into place. Clint’s knowledge of Darcy had not been casually acquired over time but was the direct result of living with her. Darcy’s knowledge and intimacy with the Avengers was far greater than he had assumed. A fair number of SHIELD agents were likely aware of the connection, but he was too socially disconnected to be in the know. This odd connection was doubtless what that bastard Malkovich had been referencing. He made the mistake of mentioning it.

“Is that bullshit rumor about how I must be sleeping with one of the Avengers still going around?” Darcy demanded. Jack wished he had kept his mouth shut. Darcy pulled away from him and drew herself up into a defensive posture. “Well I’m not! They’re my friends! Good friends! Thor and Jane are more like family to me!” Jack could hear how tight her voice had gotten, but it was harder to read her in the dark. He turned on the light for the conversation. He did not like how upset she looked. Every line of her normally soft and curvy frame was rigid with tension. Her pale fingers clenched at the fabric of the t-shirt and her mouth was drawn into a fine line.

“I never thought you were,” he said gently, trying to diffuse the tension. It wasn’t quite a lie. The thought that she might be involved in a relationship with an Avenger had occurred to him when Clint had told him how close they were, but he had never given it any credence.  “I only heard someone mouthing off about it,” he admitted. He touched her cheek, wanting to bring her back to that slow, soft place that they had been. “It’s none of their business, and it’s none of mine.” It wasn’t. Darcy could have slept with every one of the Avengers and that was no business of his. If he were her boyfriend or partner, he might have had the right to enquire how such a nasty rumor started (then beat the shit out of whomever was responsible), but Jack doesn’t have such a right.

“I’m making it your business. I haven’t had sex with any of the Avengers, and I need you to know that!” Her voice had risen to a near shout, seeming more upset than before.

“Alright, Darcy, alright. I read you loud and clear.” He believed her. He accepted it. He also saw that the rumors and shitheads like Malkovich must have taken more of toll on Darcy than anyone knew. He wondered if Clint and Romanoff had any idea. If she had been dealing with the rumor mill on her own, without wanting interference from any Avengers, then perhaps he finally understood why Darcy had never mentioned Malkovich to them. She was protecting her friends from a bit of office nastiness even while it hurt her. A low simmering fury settled in his gut.

“Okay, just as long as you get it.” He had no reason not to trust her word that she wasn’t having sex with an Avenger, though he supposed he had more reason than most to know that; if Darcy had been involved with one of the Avengers, then what the fuck would she want with him? Why get a beat-up has-been spy when she could have a superhero? No one would make that trade.

 So Darcy’s best friends and housemates (towermates?) were some of the most dangerous people on the continent. An unexpected complication. She called them family. He understood having friends that were closer than any blood relative. He used to have them. Once. He gets it.

“Did somebody not get it before, Sweetheart?”  Some of her tension had eased. Jack wanted to croon and cuddle her and swear bloody revenge on anyone that spread rumors. Instead he tucked her under his chin where she wouldn’t see how badly he wanted to shoot Malkovich.

“He’s always been an asshole. I can handle him though.” He tightened his arms around her. He didn’t like the idea of her having to deal with him all by herself. He respected her desire to take care of a problem on her own and not fan any flames, but it didn’t ease pinch in his chest as he remembered how that filth had spoken to her.

“Have you had to ‘handle’ him a lot?”

“Not really. Back when I was seeing Brock, he mostly kept his mouth shut, but he’s bolder now.”

“And Rumlow doesn’t fucking stop him?”  The words popped out before he could prevent it.

“Why would he? He’s not saying anything I haven’t heard before. And when he makes a pass at me, I just turn him down.” That didn’t make it right. That didn’t make Malkovich’s behavior towards his female coworkers acceptable. Rumlow, that asshole. The idiot had had the problem right under his nose and hadn’t dealt with it.

Unfortunately, it was an attitude Jack had encountered before. Plenty of men thought talk was just talk, guys being guys, drunk utterances that would never be acted on. Most of the time that was true (not that it made the behaviors okay), but sometimes the guy that ranted about his bitch of an ex or talked about how a girl was such a teasing whore would act on it. Sometimes that guy who spoke of others with such disrespect decided that his own desires were more important anything else and viewed others as lesser beings built only to satisfy them. That was when a mere asshole could become a true monster. That was when bodies stripped of all clothing and dignity started turning up in parks or out in the desert.

Sometimes it was just talk.

Sometimes it was a monster wearing human skin.

Jack doubted Malkovich was a true monster. He was most likely a disrespectful asshole who like to push the boundaries. Experts who studied shit like this argued about nature versus nurture and the effects of head trauma on personalities, but at some point a man became a monster and most of the time it wasn’t like a switch got flipped. Lots of those monsters started out being assholes who didn’t get mental healthcare or good environments or a swift kick in the pants. Malkovich might just be an asshole but if he wasn’t checked, he could become worse.

Plenty of people didn’t understand that human beings existed on a sliding scale of decency. They thought people were good or bad, black and white, but Jack had lived his life in the gray. Rumlow probably believed in shit like good and evil and thought that because Malkovich worked for the government and risked his life that he must be good. Rumlow probably thought it was just talk. Jack preferred to take a more active approach.

Darcy wrapped her arms around him and called him a good man. He’s not. He’s done a lot of terrible things mostly for good reasons, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist in a world of grays. If he were a good man he might be enough deserve Darcy Lewis here in his bed, in his arms, in his old clothes, pressed tight to his heart. But he is not. Jack knows he’s a weapon in the shape of a man even if Darcy can make him feel otherwise at odd moments.

She called him good and Jack ached. He felt every single scar on his body and every life he’s ever taken while getting them. Even as a weapon he is old and deeply flawed. Darcy doesn’t seem to mind though. It was so strange. She didn’t seem to care about his scars other than as places to kiss. Jack knows that she is well aware he kills people, having seen it when she helped them out on that mission, so she is under no illusions. She just doesn’t seem to care. Weapon or man, Darcy Lewis will bring him cookies and ask him strange questions and tell him funny stories. That had to be enough. He had no right to ask for things like love. That was for people that were really people. But when he’s with Darcy he gets the strangest ideas. A gun or knife does not love, but Jack has this sensation inside of his chest that keeps threatening rip him open and leak out. He's afraid of what will happen if it does, but he wants it so badly it hurts.

Chapter Text

Jack could have gladly stayed holed up in his apartment with Darcy for a week, but unfortunately the real world demanded he come into work at 8am on Monday like it was some ordinary day. It wasn’t. For one thing, he usually didn’t have little bruises and scratches peppering his body from seriously awesome sex. For another, he usually hated Mondays (Tequila used to rib him by giving him Garfield themed gifts), but this Monday had that nice fall crisp in the air and he had two cookies from Darcy to eat with lunch. It was a good fucking day. Jack felt loose and light in a way he hasn’t felt in a while. He wished he could say it was just the sex, but it was the whole dang thing; sex, kisses, peanut butter cookies, waking up on Sunday morning with Darcy’s hair ticking his nose, her showering at his place and walking out of the bathroom smelling like him, all the little places he had left hickies on her, and the funny GIF she had texted him this morning. Jack felt like he was breathing more deeply. He had even chosen one of his bolder ties to wear, feeling festive.

He bumped into Ramos and Bekele from Team Theta on his way to get some more coffee. He nodded to them politely, unaware that he was still smiling from a brief text exchange with Darcy.

“Hey Daniels,” greeted Ramos. They had both stopped walking, so Jack paused as well.

“Ramos, Bekele. How’s the arm?”

“Doing better. The doctor says I’m good for light duty, but apparently no fieldwork for another month!”

“Sucks, man,” Jack sympathized. He had always hated being told to stay on deskwork. “I’ll bet you’re back before then. The medics are always too cautious.” Ramos chuckled.

“Well, that way when we make miraculous recoveries, they get to crow about it.” Bekele made a frustrated harumph.

“I don’t mind if they want to keep me out the field for a bit, but not training is driving me nuts.”

“Get creative,” advised Jack. “A buddy of mine once used his downtime to learn to throw knives with his offhand.” Agent Sambuca had been notoriously incapable of sitting still. Jack wondered if they still were.

“I think I’d cut myself to ribbons,” grumbled Bekele. “Although maybe I could throw darts. Could be a good party trick. Thanks, Daniels!” Jack waved goodbye and headed off to the breakroom, leaving Bekele and Ramos to stare after him.

“Is it just me or is he in a really good mood? God knows he was never that chatty even in the pre-mission meetings. Must have had a good weekend.”

“Yeah. That was odd. What do you think, aliens?”

“Could be. Maybe he touched an ancient artifact that sent him on a monthlong mental vacation that only lasted 5 minutes in the real world? I heard it happened to Jorgenson in 2007.”

“Well if it turns out to be a permanent thing maybe we could snap him up?”

“He is a good shot,” considered Ramos. “If he weren’t so hard to get a read on, I’d have asked him already.”

“Maybe he just needed to warm up.” The agents both shrugged and continued on their way.

Agent Cole came to see him towards the end of the day. Some of what he was calling the Lewis effect had worn off, but Jack was still willing to entertain the idea that not all Mondays were complete shit. Cole grabbed a spare chair from another cubicle and seated herself without so much as a by your leave. Jack was reviewing recommended equipment inventory for an upcoming mission and making his own revisions as he chewed on the end of a pen.

“That’s bad for your teeth, you know.”

“Don’t recall asking you, Cole.”

“You also didn’t remember to email me about those mission parameters we were discussing before the containment breach.” Damn. A solid hit. Now if only he could remember why he hadn’t sent the promised email… Cole laughed at his struggle. “I don’t blame you for not following up! You had more interesting things on your mind that day.” Aw shit. Right. Cole had seen him mooning after Darcy. He mentally prepared himself for prying questions and deflections, but they never came. Agent Cole just gave him a knowing smirk and tossed a few briefs at him. “To make up for it, you can help me pick my team’s mission for next week.”

They went over the different mission parameters and Cole offered ideas about which ones could prove good experience for the junior members of her team. It got them gossiping about the capabilities of other agents in general. Jack felt proud to be able to offer tidbits about some of the various teams he’d worked with the past several months. He liked having a solid lay of the land. Cole had been at SHIELD for 12 years and knew practically everyone except some of the newest hires. Jack figured that explained why she kept showing up for chats; she already knew everyone else. It gave him an idea.

“You ever had the misfortune to work with Malkovich?” he asked blandly. Agent Cole’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh yes. He’s a mid-level agent,” she said slowly. “He’ll probably never get to senior level though. Just doesn’t have the… proper mindset.”

“You mean he’s got the personality of an unneutered dog?” Cole’s bright blue eyes lit up.

“Exactly! Though I have to say I’m shocked, Daniels. Most people don’t have a problem working with him.” Jack snorted.

“Most people here are men,” he pointed out. Cole clucked her tongue in a way that Jack had come to realize meant she was thinking hard about something.

“Yes… some women find him to be… difficult to work with.” Jack leaned forward and lowered his voice.

“Don’t mince words, Cole. We both know he’s a shithead who is disrespectful at least and dangerous at worst." She nodded, looking relieved. “He ever go after you or someone you know?” Cole stiffened.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she replied coolly.

“Maybe it ain’t, but I’m making it my business. He harassed someone in front of me then went and badmouthed her to all the team members while we were on a mission. I might have let it go, but when I tried to mention it to my team leader he shut me down with the good ol’ boy crap of ‘lighten up, it was just a joke’. I started poking around.” Cole’s mouth was one thin line. “I’ll bet you know what I found.”

Cole was silent for a long moment, then “Rumors. Mild harassment.” She picked up steam. “Advances towards female coworkers. Nasty jokes. He always toes the line like a fucking tightrope walker! No one ever takes it seriously.” She exhaled sharply and he watched her tiny button nose flare.

“I take it seriously.” Cole shook her head.

“Sorry, Daniels, but you’re a nobody. You’re not management or a bigshot agent that could make the right people listen.”

“You’re a team leader, wouldn’t they listen to you?”

“About what? That I’ve heard some unpleasant things about the man? He doesn’t usually play these games with married women, but one of my juniors told me about him years ago. She didn’t want to face the stigma or take the professional risk of reporting him.” Jack nodded slowly. There was no way he could really understand that position so he couldn’t weigh all the risks involved. It wasn’t his place to judge.

“You’re right. I am a nobody here.” He barred his teeth in a snarl. “That means I don’t give a shit about interoffice politics or black marks on my record. I’ve already got plenty. All I’ve personally seen is one case of harassment, so that’s all I could report him for. We’ve been trying to get more but-“

“We?”

“We. I asked someone I… trust… to look into it deeper.” Trust was such a funny word when you were a spy. Jack’s gut twisted. He did trust Clint to a point, more than most of the other people he knew. He trusted the man not to shoot him randomly, to spot him 20 bucks, to spar, or to know where to find the best pizza joints. The guy was almost…a friend maybe. Jack had trusted him with this, could he trust him with more? “They looped in some others who have been looking as well, but we’ve hit a wall unless we can find a victim who is ready to report him personally. If we can get one, others might be comfortable enough to come forward and share their experiences as well. The only other option we came up with was to wait until he crosses a line too big to be swept under the rug.” Cole rubbed at her face with a sigh.

“I can talk to some of the ones I know personally. They weren’t willing at the time, but maybe if they know that there are other people who give a damn…”

“Let me know. I can arrange a meetup with the others to share info.”

Agent Cole left shortly after that. Jack wasn’t surprised. It was getting late and they had discussed some uncomfortable things. It was funny that an organization full of people who could shoot guns and throw punches would be uncomfortable discussing a sleezeball. It made him angry. Surely someone could have nipped this thing in the bud years ago! He leaned back in his chair to glare at the ceiling tiles. Shame is probably a big factor. Some of these women are highly trained, so maybe it would be embarrassing to them that a man’s nasty pickup line or overly friendly touch made them uncomfortable. Maybe they-

“Hey!” He startled and jerked upright. Darcy was standing by his cubicle wearing her peacoat and red hat. A smile stole over Jack’s face.

“Hay is for horses, Darlin’.”

“Well you’re the Cowboy,” she shrugged, grinning.

“That I am. What’s up?”

“Not much. A quiet day for Science. I was wondering if you were free after work on Wednesday?”

“Ah,” he shook his head. “I’ve got a mission with Team Sierra.” And wasn’t he just thrilled about that. He’d much rather spend time with Darcy than work with those assholes again.

“Aww, too bad. Will you be too beat up on Friday?”

“Depends. What’s Friday?”

“Hmm, could be pizza if you play your cards right.” Something brilliant sparked inside him. Fuck, he loved Mondays now. He stood and got up in her space. Darcy’s eyes widened and she bit her lip. Hunger flared and she swayed towards him.

“Pizza sounds nice, Sweetheart. Although… maybe you don’t want to wait so long?” Her gaze clung to his mouth in an almost tangible caress.

“I definitely don’t.” The admission came out so quiet he barely heard it even as close as he was. He lowered his head by a degree to tease her.

“So ask me. You’re the one in charge here.”

“So if I told you to meet me in the stairwell in 5 minutes?”

“I’d ask the lady if she prefers East or West stairs.”

“East. Be there or be square.” She winked at him saucily before turning away. He leaned out of his cubicle watching her go. He cursed her peacoat for obscuring the view of her ass in her jeans, but a half smile clung stubbornly to his face.

Only a herculean display of self-control kept Jack in his seat for the next five minutes, during which he accomplished absolutely nothing. When the time was up he trotted to the stairs and found Darcy waiting for him, leaning casually against the wall.

“Hey there, Cowboy” she chirped as she reeled him in by his jacket lapel. Their mouths collided, reforming patterns and remembering angles burned into them over the weekend. Jack kept his palms flat to the wall as he leaned his weight against her. Darcy murmured happily and wrapped her arms around his waist under his jacket. She was smiling softly when Jack broke the kiss. Her hands rubbed over his back and Jack sighed as he pressed his forehead to hers. He got that warm and buzzy feeling that had enveloped him the entire weekend. The Lewis contact high, he had dubbed it.

“So did I earn that pizza on Friday?” Jack asked.

“Hmm,” Darcy’s eyes were still closed. “I’d call it a solid start.”

“Really? What can I do to change your mind?” Jack swept off his hat and braced his other arm over Darcy’s head. He nuzzled at her neck, pressing tiny light kisses to the small area between Darcy’s chin and the collar of her coat. Her breath hiccupped. Jack sucked at a spot just under her ear and Darcy shivered. “Right there, Darlin’? If I left a mark there, could that be my ticket to Friday night?” He ran his tongue over her skin and she gasped.

“Don’t you dare! Do you have any idea how much concealer I had to use this morning?! And I had to wear a scarf because nothing short of high-grade special effects was going to cover some of them!” Jack chuckled at the breathy outrage. Too fucking cute.

“Tactical scarf strikes again huh?” His tone shifted from lightly teasing to something deeper, more demanding. “Show me.” Darcy tugged on the end of the scarf and it slipped off as her head tipped back to expose her throat. The skin between her collarbones bore a livid mark, deeper and larger than the other marks scattering over her neck, breasts, and thighs. Jack’s hand against the wall became a fist as he struggled to keep it there; if he started touching her he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop. Kissing was dangerous too, but at least if he kept his hands clear her clothes would stay on. Or would they? He ran his mouth lightly over the tendons of her neck teasingly. She had taken off the scarf. If he asked, would she take off a little more? He inhaled her scent and sighed. That way lay madness. Bad enough he was kissing her in stairwells at work. If they got caught fucking at work…

Then everyone would know. Everyone would know they were together, that she was his- he yanked his brain to heel. Then their deal would be broken. The last thing she needed was her name linked with a walking dead man, a spy on his last chance. He couldn’t take the risk. Nothing was worth losing this. He couldn’t lose her. He froze as his thoughts swirled beyond his control, back to the heavy gloom that had suffused him ever since they had brought him back, smothering him, choking out everything…

“Jack.”

“Hmm?” Her fingers danced over the narrow band of skin between his collar and hairline, making him shudder.

“Where did your head just go?” she asked gently. Jack froze and pulled back to stare at her.

“Don’t know what you mean.” Her fingers extended, scratching minutely over the back of his head. His eyes fluttered helplessly against that touch.

“You were here with me and then you were gone,” she stated. Fuck. Had he lost time? It couldn’t have been more than a minute. He couldn’t have gotten that lost in his head. Agents had died for less. Was he malfunctioning? Darcy did have weird effects on him, but usually he was all too aware of every second when he was with her. Against his express permission, his heartbeat ratcheted up.

Darcy regarded Jack carefully. One minute they had been fine, flirting and kissing, then Jack had gone eerily still. She had called his name a few times before he heard her. It wasn’t like him to get lost in thought or go that still, even when he was asleep Jack moved around quite a bit. He was extremely present and his intensity was usually sharp enough to make others uncomfortable. Now there were faint lines of tension on his face and his nostrils flared in a minute twitch. So he had gone somewhere.

She huffed out a breath, unsure of how to handle it. If it was Steve or Bruce she’d have felt comfortable pointing it out and asking what they needed. Clint and Tony didn’t like to talk when things were like that, so she’d just sit near them as an anchoring point while they worked their way through it. She’d never caught Nat fuzzed out and suspected she never would. Thor usually figured out he was drifting before she did and would initiate a spirited round of video games or karaoke to force himself into the present. What did Jack need? Clearly not to talk about it, judging by the way he clammed up and started looking at her like she was waving around high-grade explosives. It worried her that he had drifted while doing something he enjoyed. Jack was clearly a physical person. Since she had walked into his apartment on Saturday, he had barely lost contact with her, even if it was only the barest brush of knees connecting them. Jack liked touch. He liked touching her. It surprised her that he had fuzzed out while teasing her like that. What had caused it?

She wasn’t ever likely to find out. Jack kept his cards close to the chest. He did not like letting people see when he was injured or tired. Left with few options, Darcy smiled up at him and offered him an out.

“Blood sugar a little low, Cowboy?” She squatted and rifled through her bag, coming up with a protein bar. She pressed it into his hand. “Sorry it’s not a cookie, but I think we ate all of them.” She kissed his knuckles and stroked the back of his hand as she looked at him. The tension wasn’t gone, but at least now there was a faint upturn to the corners of his mouth. She left a tiny kiss there as well. Jack turned, chasing her lips, and the kiss this time was delicate and sweet.

“Thank you, Sweetheart.”

“Mmm. Yup. Definitely hanging out on Friday.”

“Sounds good to me,” he chuckled. She snatched another little kiss.

“And it definitely time for me to go home before I tempt you into having filthy stair sex at work.” Jack’s smile was warm and his laugh was loud enough to echo. Mission accomplished. “Do me a favor, eat that protein bar and don’t work too hard, ‘kay?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Jack replaced his hat and gently wrapped Darcy’s scarf around her neck. “Night, Darcy.”

“Night, Jack. Good luck on your Wednesday mission and come back safe.” Then she turned and left.

Jack stood in the stairs for a while afterwards, marveling at the wild range of emotions swirling inside him. Fear, hope, excitement, embarrassment, and desire were the only ones he could name with any confidence. He looked down at the bar in his hand and listened to the wrapper crinkle. She had given the order, so he ate it, though he didn’t feel particularly hungry. He ate because she had cared enough to give it to him. She cared. She was a kind person who cared about a lot of people, he tried to tell himself, but it didn’t stop the tingling warmth that seemed to spread from his chest. Darcy cared about him and that was more than he’d ever thought to hope for from her.

By Tuesday afternoon his Lewis Contact High had abated. He was no longer grinning at random intervals, which he thought Team Sierra was thankful for. According to Agent Carmichael, it was slightly unnerving. Just for that Jack gave him a shark’s grin, more a display of teeth than an expression of happiness. Jack also found it unnerving that he was running around smiling. He really needed to get a better hold of himself.

 I used to have the best damn poker face in the office!

He shrugged and changed into loose workout gear. It wasn’t as though he had anyone to play poker with anymore. Jack had no sooner finished that thought when he heard, “Hey Bud!” He spun to face Clint. Maybe Clint would play cards with him sometime?

“Hey Clint. Ready for an ass kicking?” Clint made an expression that would have better suited a kindergartener.

“You mean administering one? I definitely am!” They exchanged silly barbs as they headed down to the sparring area. “By the way, I invited a friend of mine to join us.” Jack glared.

“It better not be Widow, Clint. We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.” Clint shook his head with a wince.

“Yeah that convo didn’t go so great, but really she was just trying to help, just in her very cutthroat Natasha way. No, it’s not Nat. I promise you’ll like ‘em!” Clint slapped him hard across the back as he pushed ahead into their reserved training space.

“Steve!” Clint hollered as he drew even with the large figure stretching on the mat. The person straightened to well over six feet in height with every inch packed with muscle. Captain Steven Grant Rogers, AKA Captain America, certainly looked like the peak of athletic perfection that he had been engineered to be. Jack’s mind lit up with official dossiers, random internet facts, and historical media from World War Two. Unlike the Widow, he and Rogers hadn’t had much cause to overlap in this life or his previous one and therefore he had never drawn up a plan for neutralizing him, but Jack’s mind skimmed through known weaknesses and calculated likely fighting styles quickly enough to that by the time Captain America was extending a superpowered hand to shake Jack’s he already had several tactics in mind.

Jack engaged none of those tactics immediately. He shook the national icon’s very large hand politely and looked him right in his crystal blue eyes. Hand to hand was a no-go what with the videos Jack had seen. He couldn’t match that raw strength and speed. Knives would help, but the Captain had doubtless fought plenty of folk with knives before. A combination of knives, whips, and pistols could be unconventional enough to give Jack the edge. A pity he wouldn’t get to test that theory any time soon.

Jack huffed and raised an eyebrow at Clint. It was damned annoying to know he was going to spend the next several hours getting the crap beat out of him, just like Clint had promised.

“Barton, you and me are going to be having words.” To his credit, Clint actually looked a little frightened and raised his hands.

“Hey man-“

“I mean, you let me meet the Captain without my good hat!” Jack snapped. Not to mention his coat and tie. All had been left in his locker. Jack did so hate to meet the man who had appeared in many of his childhood comic books wearing nothing but a damned t-shirt and sweatpants. He sketched at lazy three-fingered salute and hat tip (minus his hat, dammit). It was the best he could do at the moment.

“It’s good to meet you, Captain Rogers. I thought Clint was jus’ full of shit when he promised me some good exercise today.” Clint made aggrieved squawking noises while Rogers laughed at his expense.

“My pleasure, Agent Daniels. Clint and Nat keep mentioning you, so I thought I’d take advantage of being at SHIELD for once to see what all the talk was about.” Jack snorted.

“Hopefully nothing but spurious lies.”

“Hey! We spoke of you fondly! Said you were a good drinking buddy and an even better sparring partner!”

“Nice to know, but it’ll take more’n that to get you outta the hot seat, Pigeon Brain.” Jack began to stretch, warming muscles he knew were going to hurt like hell in few hours no matter he did. Steve and Clint settled onto the mat near him and began their own warm-ups. “And just what in the hell could Romanoff have been saying about me anyway?” Steve chuckled.

“She said you were an exceptionally deadly adversary with good manners.” The Captain was scrutinizing Jack carefully, doing his own calculations, Jack assumed. People tended to forget that while the Captain didn’t have much to do with long-term campaigns, he had a good head for tactics. Much went on behind the pretty blue eyes that the public never bothered to acknowledge. He was not some muscly one-man wrecking ball that had been aimed by army generals at Germany; Steve Rogers had fought in one of biggest wars in history as the leader of a band of specialist guerilla fighters that repeatedly went behind enemy lines to conduct surgical strikes, rescue prisoners, and capture vital information.

And here he sat, in his own workout sweats, telling Jack that the Black Widow had mentioned him.

Jack could only shake his head at the bizarre company he was keeping these days.

“High praise from her. Any more updates on that issue I discussed with her last time, Birdy?” Clint frowned slightly and shrugged.

“For obvious reasons, she’s been making inquiries without me and hasn’t been sharing much. We have one or two potentials for the list though.”

“Anything I can help with?” The Captain’s eyes were sharp as he listened with too much interest. Jack choked back a biting comment about keeping his large star-spangled self out of it. There was no call to be rude to the man who had just offered to help without even knowing what they were talking about.

"The issue is a sensitive one, and more of a personal matter than anything else, though I thank you for the offer, Captain.” His hand automatically went to the brim of the hat he was not wearing. Rogers gave him a sunny smile.

“Well, any friend of Darcy and Clint’s is a friend of mine. Let me know if there’s anything I can do…” Jack cursed himself for twitching when Darcy’s name was mentioned. He hadn’t known that Rogers was aware that he and Darcy were acquainted. He turned a venomous glare onto Clint, who had the temerity to grin at his reaction.

“Don’t look at me like that, Jack! It could have been someone else who mentioned you two are friends.” Jack rolled to his feet, deciding he was warmed up enough to beat the tar out of Barton and his loose mouth before having to face Captain America. Clint’s smile widened as they began to circle each other.

“Actually, it was Darcy who mentioned you in the first place.” Jack head snapped to the side to stare at the smirking blond captain. Darcy talked about me? To her friends? What did she say? Did she tell them about-

He heard movement and automatically dodged the fist the Clint had directed at his face. He caught Clint’s arm and used the other man’s momentum to toss him. Clint went with the motion, sailing through the air to execute a graceful somersault, then turning to face Jack’s kick. They traded blows and grapples, neither gaining the upper hand. They were well accustomed to each other’s movements. Despite Jack’s earlier irritation and promises to make Clint eat gym mat, Jack was not as aggressive as he usually was.

 Outwardly he appeared calm, but his gut churned. At first it had given him an unaccountable feeling of excitement to hear that she had mentioned him to her friends, but the more he considered it the more nervous he became. Surely the Widow could dig up plenty of unpleasant shit from his past. What would it take before a sweet person like Darcy decided she didn’t want anything to do with him? But maybe it wouldn’t matter to her because all they were doing was having sex. Yes, that was likely it. There was a feeling like a fishhook had somehow become entangled in his intestines and a determined fisherman was yanking on the line.

Jack snarled as he permitted Clint past his guard to land a hit only so that he could land a much stronger hit. He cranked up the intensity of the fight, managing to surprise the archer who had become used to their rhythm. A well-aimed kick sent Clint staggering back, gasping for breath. Jack gave him no time to recover as he aimed more strikes at vital areas. Clint managed to get in another hit that made Jack’s leg tremble with the force of it. He dropped, faking that the hit had hurt him worse than it had, and when Clint attempted to follow up on the attack Jack rocketed up and plowed him in the stomach. An inelegant but effective hit as Clint went flying again. He tried to control his landing and roll, but Jack intercepted him and got his arm in a powerful hold. Both men stopped stock still. Clint could get free, but doing so could damage his arm and fingers badly in the process. In a real life or death fight he would have done it without a second thought, but this was only a practice bout. He couldn’t afford a stupid injury to win a spar and they both knew it.

Clint wiggled his fingers so that they tapped twice against Jack’s hand. Jack slowly released him and they separated. Clint straightened up and rubbed at his side where Jack had gotten a kick in. Jack snorted.

“Don’t be a baby. You’re fine.” Clint pouted at him.

“Aww Jackie c’mon! You just beat me, shouldn’t you gracious in your victory and offer to grab me an icepack or water? Where are those nice manners of yours?” Jack rolled his eyes and examined his own bruises.

“I save my manners for people, not overgrown turkeys.” Clint theatrically clapped his hands to his chest.

“That hurts me, really! You’re just jealous because I’ve got a cool callsign and you don’t!”

“Had one of those once,” Jack replied crankily. “And it wasn’t some silly thing about having good eyesight.”

“What was it?” Jack glared at the suddenly recovered man. Clint bobbed excitedly like a dog waiting for a treat.

“Not telling. Go figure it out for yourself. Ain’t you a spy?” Clint deflated. Rogers joined them in the middle of the maps, proffering bottles of water.

“Yeah, Clint, go try and spy on a spy to figure out his old identity. See how that goes,” Rogers snickered.

“I could just ask Nat. I bet she knows!”

“She probably does, but it’d be cheatin’.”

“Well whatever codename you had, it’s pretty hard to beat Nat’s for sounding terrifying,” Rogers told him cheerfully, clearly enjoying ribbing Clint. Jack took a hearty swig of water before answering.

“Romanoff is just plain terrifying.”

“You didn’t seem too scared of her when you were arguing with her about- the issue!” Jack considered that. The Black Widow had a well-deserved reputation. Any spy worth their bullets held just a little fear of her. She could certainly bring Jack down in a battle of information. A straight out fight though? He wasn’t so sure. Either way, he could put up one hell of nasty fight. Even if he didn’t win, he’d make her bleed for it. And he had already died once before. After a thing like that what was there left to be afraid of? He gave Clint a snarling grin.

“I have respect for her abilities, but I’m not about to roll over and show my belly. We had a good fight last time. Next time one of us probably won’t be able to walk away. She knows it too. Now she knows where my lines are and what will happen if she crosses them.”

“Most people that fight Nat don’t get to do it twice,” Rogers mused. “No offense Agent Daniels, but if you’re evenly matched in hand to hand with Clint, I think Natasha could beat you,” he said in a quiet, matter of fact voice. Clint scratched his head and sighed.

“He did fight her in the field before, Steve. Nat said it herself. And he’s more of a mid-range fighter anyway. He’s pretty fucking scary himself when he’s got his weapons.”

“If we’re done debating, how about we get back to fighting?” Jack muttered. He felt slightly embarrassed by Clint’s assessment of him.

“Sure!” Said Rogers eagerly. “How do you feel about taking me on?”

“Like I’m about to be hit by fuckin’ train,” Jack muttered.

He was absolutely right.

Rogers hit like a fully loaded freight train and was faster and more agile than a man of his size had any right to be. Clint patted his shoulder consoling as Jack peeled himself off the mat.

“He does that to all of us. Well, Nat’s usually too fast for him to catch, and Thor can match his strength, but everyone else gets turned into a pancake.” Jack wasn’t too proud to let out a pained groan. His bruises had bruises. At least the super soldier had been kind enough to leave him in working condition for his mission tomorrow. He clambered to his feet and offered Rogers his hand.

“Good fight.” He couldn’t help the pleased little smirk that hovered around the corner of his mouth. He had fought Captain America and was not a beaten to a bloody pulp, and a good part of that was due to his own abilities. He had done better than he had expected. That was something to be proud of. Rogers shook his hand firmly.

“You as well. You’re an interesting fighter, Agent Daniels.”

“Glad to give you a little exercise, Captain.”

“You should come visit SHIELD more often, Steve. Are you going to see Darcy and Jane before you head out?” Clint asked. Steve wrinkled his nose.

“Obviously. They’d murder me if they found out I was here and didn’t stop in to say hi. You want to talk terrifying women, Agent Daniels, you do not want to see Jane Foster when she’s mad.” Jack nodded slowly.

“I have heard a few stories about black holes and portals into space.”

“Meh, I still think Darcy is worse. If she’s mad at you, there are no baked goods! She’ll make them and let you smell that she’s made them, but she’ll disappear them before you get so much as a crumb!” Clint wailed. Steve laughed at him.

“In the doghouse this week, Clint? What did you do this time?”

“Nothing! I was just asking questions about who she went on that date with last weekend! She wouldn’t tell me a thing other than confirming it was a guy!” Jack went completely still.

“And how many times did you ask her?”

“Erm… maybe a couple hundred?” Steve laughed again.

“There’s a good lesson, Daniels; Don’t pester Darcy until she starts withholding baked goods.” Jack unfroze enough to grab a drink.

“I’ve had some of her cookies. I’m not dumb enough to do somethin’ like that.”

“Smart guy! So did Clint tell you about the party?” Jack shook his head. “Tony’s hosting a party on Saturday night. Nothing big or fancy, but usually lots of interesting people.”

“Ain’t no party like a Stark party!” Clint interjected. “You’re officially invited.” Jack blinked at them.

“Me? Why? I don’t know Stark.”

“Yeah, but you know me, Nat, Darcy, and now Steve. You can meet the rest of the gang of weirdos!” Jack shifted uneasily. He was friends with Clint and felt like Rogers was a decent guy, but what about him and Darcy? He wasn’t sure that they qualified as friends. Would she mind if he was there or would she find it awkward? He chewed the inside of his cheek. They weren’t together. She didn’t need to acknowledge him in public at all, that was the agreement. He could just go as a friend of Clint’s. Yeah, that would work.

“Okay,” he answered slowly. “I guess I’ll be there. I confess some interest at seeing exactly what a Tony Stark party looks like.”

“Don’t believe the old rumors,” Steve told him. “Tony partied hard when he was younger, but he’s actually calmed down a lot since forming the Avengers. Still throws a good party though.”

“Definitely,” confirmed Clint. “Like Steve said, lots of interesting people, tasty food, and Tony doesn’t skimp on the alcohol so there’s usually a funny drinking game or two going on.” Jack smiled slightly. It sounded exactly like his idea of a real good time. He hadn’t been to a party like that in ages. And it would be interesting to see how the Avengers cut loose.

Chapter Text

“Watch left!” Someone shouted. Jack brought his gun up just in time to shoot a small robot that had been trundling up to attack him. Luckily, their tiny laser guns were weak enough that only close-range shots were dangerous, and anything from a distance felt more like a bad bee sting. The robots weren’t very powerful but there were a lot of them. A couple of shots from Thor or Iron Man would have taken them out easily, but both heroes were trying to deal with the more deadly robots who were guarding their creator. It was all part of some kind of unhinged plot to wreak revenge on a tech company that had fired a guy. It was stupid, Jack thought. How much money had the “evil genius” spent on materials to create his little robot army? Well now his shitty little minions were target practice for Jack and Team Sierra!

They had completed an easy mission that had gone entirely according to plan and were on their way back to SHIELD when they had been redirected to this neighborhood to provide backup to the Avengers. They had arrived to find waves of little robots that looked like something a kid might find in their Christmas stocking doing their best to wreak havoc on some very irritated New Yorkers. Most people had just fled inside offices and shops, but Jack had seen a few smashing the bots with bags of canned goods or chunks of rebar. Team Sierra was ordered to support the Avengers, protect the civilians, and try to destroy as many robots as possible.

They were having a blast. The younger agents were still trying to keep count of all the bots they smashed. Jack had taken out his whip and was using it to fling waves of the things into walls or away from civies.

“23!” called Kelson as he took out another bot.

“You’re falling behind, punk!” Rumlow told them. “42!” Jack chuckled at their exuberance. Clint wasn’t as contained and outright laughed at them over the open comms channel.

“Amateurs! I quit counting ages ago!”

“Not all of us have EMP arrows, Hawkeye!” Villenova complained. “We’re going to run out of bullets before we run out things to shoot down here.” Clint just whooped and leaped to another rooftop where he took more potshots at the enemy, with some of his arrows skewering multiple robots at once. Jack cracked his whip and sent four of the things flying across the pavement to crunch against the concrete of a skyscraper.

“Clint wasn’t kidding! You are good with that thing!” A round shield emblazoned with a star hurtled past Jack’s shoulder to plow through a horde of bots as though they were bowling pins. The shield bounced off the building and went shooting back into its owner’s hands. Jack grinned.

“Much obliged, Cap. I reckon you could clean up at the ultimate frisbee leagues.” Clint, Rogers, and the members of Team Sierra laughed and began debating whether it was ethical for Captain America to win trophies with his engineered abilities.

Finally, the Avengers that had gone after the villain managed to capture him and shut down his robot army.

“At least this one was smart enough to put in a kill switch,” Rogers said as he poked a collapsed bot with his toe.

“You would not believe how many idiots forget them,” Jack grumbled as he coiled his whip. Rogers laughed. “No, seriously! Almost every two-bit “evil genius” I’ve ever found just creates a bunch of dangerous crap without a thought to how to turn it off! It’s damned annoying and inconsiderate!” Rogers only laughed harder.

“They ought to put in the evil scientist’s handbook!”

Jack sniggered at the comment. Over comms Team Sierra began checking in and organizing to head home. There were specialized teams of scientists and waste disposal personnel that came in and cleaned up after events like this. Jack was glad they didn’t have to stay and account for every bullet casing. He’d had missions like that, but working for SHIELD had its perks.

“Time for me to head out,” Jack tipped his hat to the Captain.

“Oh! The others will be sad to have missed you. Are you still coming on Saturday?” The Captain’s face under his weird hood/helmet was open and earnest. Jack didn’t understand why the Captain seemed so keen for him to meet the rest of the Avengers. Maybe the man had a bet with Clint on who would move in for the kill first, Jack or the Widow? Or maybe it’s hard for a guy like that to make casual friends? It was a strange thought, that Captain America would be in need of friends outside of the Avengers or that he saw Jack as a candidate for friendship. Mad as hatters, the lot them, Jack decided as Clint landed next to him with a thump that had Jack flinching and reaching for his gun before he registered who it was.

“Birdbrain! Makes some goddamn noise on the approach before I fill you with lead!” Clint danced out of range of Jack’s swipe.

“Little jumpy there, big shooter! Did the scary wobots fwighten you?” Jack rolled his eyes and turned back to Rogers, ignoring Clint’s goading.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Any other adults coming to this thing, or is it just more toddlers like him?”

“People usually count Bruce and me as adults, but I’m not so sure about Thor and Tony.”

“Cuz we know how to have fun!” Clint chirped. Jack heard a call though comms.

“Well, we’ll have to see about that. I’ve gotta run. Pigeon Shit. Captain.”

“Bye, Agent Daniels!”

“Catch you later, Cowboy!”

Jack’s mission with Team Sierra must have gone well, Darcy thought as she watched Jack out of the corner of her eye. He sat at a table with Brock, Agent Carmichael and a few others who were all speaking animatedly over each other. Darcy herself had been having a late lunch with Jane, Dr. Talbot, and Ernie from accounting when the squad had come in and began eating. She itched to get up and go see him, maybe ask him if he wanted to grab dinner tonight, see if he had picked up any injuries that needed tending, or even just touch him to make sure he was really there.

She tried not to cling and worry about her friends and loved ones that had dangerous jobs to do, but Freya’s grace it was hard! She made a conscious effort to keep her mind on eating lunch and listening to Talbot and Jane debate astrobiology and life on other planets with Ernie, who was a lifelong Star Trek nerd. The conversation ran the gamut from serious scientific debate to preposterous fantasizing with a deep detour into humorous memes. Darcy couldn’t stop glancing over to check on Jack. Every time she looked for any sign he was hurt or upset, but he looked fairly relaxed. Only a few months ago he wouldn’t have been sitting at the busy table in the thick of things. Darcy was glad that he was loosening up enough to chat casually with coworkers. He still seemed reserved and quiet, but when he did say something everyone at the table turned to listen. He had earned their respect. His progress made Darcy smile.

“Darce’ are you coming?” Jane asked as she stood and collected her tray. Darcy smiled and shrugged.

“I’m going to get a coffee and say hi to Gladys before I head back to the lab. She texted me that she started a new project.”

“Okay! See you in a bit!” Jane and the others left. Darcy forced herself to finish off her lunch, bussed the table, grabbed a coffee that she didn’t really need, then headed over to see what Gladys was working on. The older woman sat at a table with a few other people who were finishing their own late lunches and chatting happily as Gladys knitted at the speed of light. Darcy bent over to examine the intricate stitchwork of Gladys’ latest masterpiece as Gladys talked about a new cable pattern she had found on Pinterest.

Then Darcy felt a hand grab her ass and squeeze. She let out a startle yelp and straightened to see what the hell was going on. There was a chance that it was some sort of mistake or accident, but all such thoughts flew out the window when she saw Malkovich’s irritating grin. He did not just do that. No way. Darcy felt herself going red from embarrassment.

“Did you just grab my ass?!” She demanded, wishing her voice was stronger and not squeaking.

“Aww, c’mon Darcy, I’m just being friendly! You’re so friendly with everybody, I know you don’t mind.” This shit again. He never lets up! Darcy was caught between crying and wanting to heave. Because yeah, she was friendly and affectionate and wasn’t shy about it. She loved hugs and casual contact. Those things felt nice! Malkovich touching her and talking to her like he always did, a mix of insinuation and insult, did not. He acted as though she deserved to be treated like this just because she was kind!  She felt unclean, like she had sat on a piece of chewed gum in the subway. And Malkovich just stood there with a greasy smile as though he was doing her some huge favor. Her anger flared.

Fuck him. FUCK HIM.

Darcy’s hands startled to tremble. This wasn’t ever going to stop. She had tried to play it cool, not react to provocation, be a professional even if he wasn’t, not cause a scene, or invite scrutiny by filing complaints that would never go anywhere. But enough was enough. She was done. She had in no way given permission for him to touch her. Her body belonged to her and she got to say who touched it! Not Agent Fuckface Malkovich, that was for damn sure! He didn’t get to make her feel dirty in her own skin or talk to her like she was sleeping with half the office! Words alone had never made him stop and they never would.

“I didn’t tell you that you could touch me. I want an apology right now.” Her voice wobbled and her breath caught in her throat as she reached into her bag. Malkovich laughed, and grabbed her arm, and Darcy saw red.

“I know you liked it, Dar-“

Darcy whipped out her taser and shocked him straight in the gut. Malkovich seized up and gurgled, but he didn’t go down like she’d hoped. His grip on her arm had only gotten stronger, and the feeling of his filthy unwanted hands made her feel sick. She shifted to one leg and turned, breaking his grip, performing a simple spin that even mediocre figure skaters could do, and whipped her leg at Malkovich’s midriff. The man went down like a sack of potatoes. Darcy stared down at the winded, gagging, shaking asshole for just a second, appreciating the absolute shock on his face before she turned and ran out of the cafeteria.

Jack heard a high-pitched noise over the general din of the cafeteria. He turned to look, expecting to see someone who had spilled hot soup in their lap, but instead saw Darcy facing down Malkovich. Fuck! His blood started to simmer, itching for any excuse to deck the piece of slime. He got up and tried to move closer but there were people blocking his path. He heard Darcy demand an apology and heard the fear in her voice. She’s calling out that shithead! Good for her!  Brave thing, his Darlin’. Well, she wouldn’t be facing him alone for long if he had anything to say about it! Then over another agent’s shoulder he saw Darcy tase the bastard. It was easily the most astounding thing he’d seen all year. Then she executed a halfway decent spinning kick that knocked Malkovich on his ass, and he couldn’t decide which was more epic. Either way Jack was ready to whip out some pompoms and be her personal cheerleader while she kicked the tar out of him! 

Except Darcy did not follow up on her attack. Her face was blotchy and her cheeks damp. She turned and sprinted from the cafeteria. Jack’s first instinct was to bolt after her, but there was another matter to settle. The first flutterings of a killing rage licked the inside of his gut. He pushed past the final ring of bystanders to kneel over Malkovich’s head. He looked down into the other man’s spluttering face and summoned every bit of lethal intent he had.

“Manners Maketh Man,” he intoned deeply, voice colder than Arctic seawater. “I warned you once, boy.” He draped his fingers lightly over Malkovich’s throat, letting him feel the threat. The man went totally still, not even breathing.” She took care of you this time, and she’s a far kinder person than I am, so thank your lucky stars. Malkovich,” he tightened his fingers, “she won’t ever need to do it again. You speak to her or lay hands on her again and so help me god I will put a bullet in you.” He bore down until Malkovich started to choke, then released him, and went to find Darcy.

Darcy needed to get away, to go, to hide. She had done something stupid again. Usually, the higher-ups tolerated a certain amount of sass and eccentricity from her, but this time she had gone too far. Her breath choked and stuttered in her lungs. The hallways were too bright, too open. She needed to hide so nobody would see the tears and snot running down her face. She jerked open a door and hurled herself through it. The room was dark and silent and small. Perfect. It was the large closet where they kept office supplies and the printer, copier, and fax machines, along with the huge boxes of paper they required. Darcy found a corner away from the door and put herself in it. She flung away her bag with its choking strap and collapsed against the wall. She would be safe here. No one would think to look for her here. She would undoubtedly have to deal with the fallout of assaulting a SHIELD at some point, but not right now. She could let go. She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly, trying to remember to breathe, but breathing hurt and her thoughts were a cloud of angrily swarming bees. A sob escaped her and left the door open for others.

Darcy couldn’t have been in the closet for more than a few minutes when her mind registered a knock. She ignored it. People could wait to make their damn copies. But the door opened anyway and she flinched back behind a stack of paper boxes. Why couldn’t they just wait!? Why couldn’t people leave her alone!?

“Darlin’?” The soft twang sent tingles up her spine like always, but Darcy didn’t want to see Jack right now. She was a fucking mess in more ways than one and now he knew, now he would see! She tried not to make a sound, but her breathing was too irregular to prevent it. The door closed and the light flicked on. “Ah, Sweetheart…” Heavy steps approached her corner and now she was well and truly caught. She kept her face pressed into her arms.

Jack lowered himself to his knees and scrutinized the little ball of Darcy. Upset didn’t begin to describe her state. Poor thing was falling all to bits. He bit his lip against promises to go back there and rip Malkovich to shreds for her. He was wasting too much time being angry. He had already spent a few minutes outside the door to the supply room marshalling his thoughts and putting a leash on his temper. Darcy didn’t need him to describe in visceral detail what he’d like to do to the worthless piece of dogshit.

So what did she need? What would help? Coffee? What would make her feel safe? A ton of warm pillows and blankets to curl up in? But he didn’t have those things! Think, dammit, you’re supposed to be good at improvisation! The warmest thing in here was him. He took off his suit jacket and unbuckled his shoulder holster, then unclipped the knife sheath and coiled whip he was still carrying from the mission earlier.

“Darcy? Can I hug you, please?” He touched the back of her hand gently. No response. He smoothed his fingertips over trembling skin that felt too cold. “Please Darlin’, I just want to help. Tell me what you need.” Her hand flipped over and snatched up two of his fingers in a vice-like grip. He settled his hands on her arms, gently gripping her back. “Atta girl. Need something to hold on to? That’s just fine by me.” He kept his voice low, and soft, like talking to a wild animal. It worked with frightened creatures, why shouldn’t it work here? Even in his past life, Jack would never have put soft and comforting as a part of his skillset, but Darcy hadn’t been there, needing him. He rubbed her arm with his free hand. “You take as long as you need. Jus’ remember to breathe for me, okay?” He got a faint sob of acknowledgement. It was something of a pyrrhic victory as the sound made his chest crack open and the gooey remains of his worthless, shredded heart threatened to leap out.

Jack was here. Seeing her in all her stupid mess. He kept telling her to breathe, but didn’t he see how difficult it was? There was no fucking air in this room! He touched her so carefully. He asked so nicely, but Darcy couldn’t answer, so she just grabbed at his hand to anchor herself. Jack’s touch would never make her feel filthy and hollow and afraid like Malkovich’s had. Jack may not have been the nicest person, but he was polite and decent even when he was upset. Darcy shook like a leaf as her thoughts swarmed. Time stretched like a taffy pull while her breath rose and fell too quickly. It felt like she had been panicking for an eternity, that there had been nothing before this and there would be nothing after. Every bit of her brain and body were screaming that she was under attack still, that she needed to get up and fight or run or something! Jack’s voice was somehow too loud but also far away through the pounding in her ears.

“Shh. S’okay Darlin’. You’re okay…” She fumbled through the fog, wanting more. She had always liked Jack’s voice. “Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll take care of everything. I’ve got you.” Her chest burned from being so hunched over. Suddenly she really wanted that hug he had offered. She managed to make a strangled noise to warn him before moving. Darcy shuffled forward and leaned into Jack, hiding her face in his neck, hugging him as tightly as she could.

The new position felt better, helped her get more air into her lungs. Jack had immediately encircled her with his arms and she felt safer. No one would get through him. His big hands pressed against her back, and he made gentle crooning noises as he began to pet her hair. It felt good. She could feel the warmth of his skin against her damp face and smell the faint tang of sweat and ceder. It made her inhale deeply as she recalled all the times that scent had meant safety and pleasure.

“That’s it, Darcy. You don’t need to do anything else but breathe for me.” His fingers massaged at her scalp as he worked to pull her hair out her face and brush through the untidy waves. Her damn heart was finally slowing, but she still couldn’t stop crying. It was stupid and weak. Always so fucking weak. Wasn’t that why Malkovich always picked at her? Stupid, weak Darcy? She sobbed. Would Jack still want her after this? After he had seen her being impulsive, weak, and messy?

He tipped his head and pressed his lips to her head, whispering soft things. It would hurt so bad to lose him. He had started opening up to her more, showing her how funny and playful he could be, as well as considerate and sexy. She had no doubt he would be very polite after the breakup when she had to see him for work. Would he go back to being polite and distant with everyone else too? Darcy hoped not. I hope he and Clint stay friends at least. The panic was finally in ebb tide, leaving Darcy feeling exhausted and sore. She could relax the strangling grip she had on Jack. It was time to face the music. Shame felt like a bitter fuzz that coated the back of her tongue as bad as any hangover.

Jack felt some of Darcy’s muscles loosen and her breathing slowed, but the wetness that fell against his neck and down the collar of his shirt didn’t stop. Hugging her had helped, miracle of miracles, but obviously it wasn’t all that she needed. He didn’t let go or stop petting her hair. He felt so damn helpless.

“Tell me what you need, Sweetheart. Anything.” There was a long pause where Jack thought she wouldn’t respond.

“Got a tissue?” Her voice was hoarse and cracking through her usual joking tone.

“Mm. Hang on.” Jack leaned over and rifled through the pockets of his discarded coat and found one of the white hankies he carried. He pressed it gently to her cheek as he tried to tilt his head well enough to see her face.

“Jack, that’s a handkerchief.”

“So?”

“So, I’d get snot and makeup all over it!”

“Don’t care, Darlin’, I’ve got a million of these things. I’ve bleached way worse stuff out of ‘em.” Darcy sighed wetly and took it. Jack sat back enough to watch her swipe at her face with it. Her eyes were swollen, nose red, face wet, makeup running; a real mess. But at least she wasn’t sobbing in that way that made him feel like someone had taken a melon baller to his insides. “There we go. That’s better, right?”

“Yeah, thanks.” He gently rubbed his hands up and down her arms. She didn’t look up at him, hiding her face again in his collar. She didn’t resume the python-tight grip she had had on him. He kinda missed it.

“You… wanna talk about what happened?”

“What’s to talk about?” she gurgled. “I just tased Malkovich! And kicked him! I’m going to lose my job and have to go back to working some shitty minimum wage job as a research assistant in a public university that won’t have decent coffee machines! And everything’s going to fall apart! I’ll have to leave New York and –“

“Woah, woah, woah! Hold the fuckin’ phone, Darcy, you are not losing your job for this!” She jerked her head back to glare at him through trembling eyelashes.

“That’s usually what happens when you assault a coworker, Jack!” she snapped. He grabbed her face in both hands.

“Well then it’s going to be Malkovich who leaves because he was the one doing the assaulting, not you!”

“He’s the one who ended up on the floor!” Jack grinned with vicious pride.

“Damn straight he did! That was a hell of thing, Darlin’. And he ended up there because he grabbed you first. Whole cafeteria saw it.” Darcy groaned and shut her eyes.

“Don’t remind me. That only makes this so much worse. You have no idea how these things work.”

“No.” he told her firmly. “I didn’t, but I’ve been learning. We couldn’t do much against Malkovich before, but now he’s on camera with over a dozen witness who saw him go after you. SHIELD can’t avoid punishing Malkovich without a hundred highly trained women causing a riot.” Darcy’s eyes popped open and she bit her lip as she stared at him.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Ah, oops. Jack hadn’t intended to tell Darcy about sexual harassment case against Malkovich or his part in organizing it. It was going to be a problem he solved for her quietly, hopefully without her ever being aware. She had essentially told him to leave the issue alone and ignore Malkovich, but Jack hadn’t been able to do that because it would leave her and the other women of SHIELD vulnerable to the dickish behavior, so he had planned to keep his part as quiet as possible. Except now she was asking and he didn’t want to lie. He rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks, feeling the salt left there.

“Me and a couple others who have noticed how he treats his female coworkers. We’ve been trying to find people who will file a big enough complaint against him that the SHIELD higher-ups won’t be able to ignore it or just give him a slap on the wrist.” Darcy jerked a little but didn’t pull away from his hands. Her mouth fell open. “Now he’s gone too far and in front of everyone. He can’t hide anymore. You won’t be getting punished for this, he will.” He sighed and leaned in to press his forehead to hers, his hat sliding up. Jack very much wanted to kiss and cuddle his girl. He didn’t think she was in a kissing mood though. “I’m sorry he’s such an asshole, Sweetheart. I’m sorry this happened and that you had to deal with him. But goddamn you are amazin’.” There was a long silence punctuated only by Darcy’s slightly wheezy breathing. It was long enough that Jack was beginning to worry that his interference had only made Darcy mad.

“You’ve really been working on that? Why?” Jack frowned and his shoulders tensed. This again.

“Because the way he treats people isn’t right,” he ground out. “The way he talked to you in the conference room and how he talked about you to everyone else was shitty and unprofessional-“

“But that was before we were even together! Or not together, you know what I mean!” Jack straightened and opened his eyes to glare at her.

“That didn’t matter to me! I would have gone after him whether we slept together or not. I can’t trust someone like that to watch my back in the field and I definitely didn’t trust him anywhere near you!” Darcy’s stormy eyes were wide with shock. Shit. Temper, you dumbass. She’s already had a rough time and shouting at her is liable to make her cry again, you idiot.

“You started looking into him right after that thing in the conference room?” Her voice was soft and steady. Jack raised an eyebrow at her, hadn’t he explained that already, and just nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Darcy’s lips were warm and salty, and suddenly kissing Jack thoroughly enough to make him forget his own name. She moved her mouth against him fervently, tempered only with quick sucking gasps of air. He shuddered in surprise at the abrupt change in mood, confused, but certainly not of a mind to stop her. He softened his lips against hers, relaxing into the kiss, letting her lead. A few minutes faded away into salty kisses.

When she finally stopped and pulled away, all Jack’s brain could come up with was “What?” Apparently, she found his lack of eloquence amusing because she giggled. It was a good sound. A normal, happy, Darcy sound.

“Thank you. For trying, for caring.” She gave him another quick kiss. He sighed and chased her mouth.

“Feeling – better?” He checked, punctuating his words with little smacking kisses. Her eyes were still reddened, but they were bright and happy. She made a wordless hum and returned kiss for kiss. He slid his arms around her in a hug. “Good – because I’ve got – to tell you – how fuckin’ – hot – that was.” Darcy chuckled, eyes glittering in amusement. She moved, twisting until she was on her knees straddling him, arms wrapped around his neck as though he would ever dream of moving away, and a hand at his jaw tipping his face up to hers.

“For the record, most people do not consider tasing ‘hot’.”

Jack does think it’s hot though. Darcy could tell he meant it. His eyes were warm with those smile lines at the corners that she liked so much. He didn’t seem to care that her face was a swollen, make-up smeared mess. Jack looked at her like she was the best thing since sliced bread.

He’s been trying to take down Malkovich… for me. Way before we slept together, or kissed, or made that stupid agreement, because he saw the way Malkovich treated me and thought it was wrong. I know he doesn’t believe it, but Jack is a good person. He’s clever, funny, super-hot, deadly in a fight, genuinely sweet, and a decent human being. I’m a shaking, crazy mess on the floor and he still looks at me like… that. I really, really love him. The damnedest thing is that I think he likes me too. You don’t do all this for a person you’re just sleeping with. You don’t look at someone you’re just fucking like that. You don’t try to take care of them like this. He cares about me. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.

Fuck that stupid agreement. I don’t think either of us could walk away from this, not anymore.

Jack’s tongue flicked out to moisten his bottom lip as he stared up at her.

“Then for the record, those people are borin’,” he rumbled. Darcy felt heat thrum through her veins. She still felt faintly sick from her panic attack, but at least she was no longer cold. Kissing Jack made things better. Watching him look up at her with something Darcy thought could be called devotion or a fierce loyalty along with hunger was a heady cocktail that made her feel strong and beautiful.

“And you’re certainly not boring, Cowboy,” Darcy crooned. She shifted against him and felt the growing bulge in his pants. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. A hand slid from around her waist to grip her ass.

“No, ma’am, I am not.” His eyes were darker that the bitterest chocolate. “Would you like me to prove just how sexy I find your ability to put grown men on their asses?” Darcy was a hairs breath from telling him, that yes, a demonstration would be lovely please and thank you, when a phone rang. They both exhaled harshly, breaking the tension. Jack groaned as Darcy retrieved her phone from her discarded bag.

“I have to get this, it’s Jane.” Jack let out sound easily confused for a piteous whimper and pressed his face into the side of her neck even as his hand retreated politely to her lower back. Darcy accepted the call. “Hi Jane,” she chirped tightly. “What’s up? Did you blow up the lab again?”

“WHAT’S UP? WHAT’S UP?!” Jane shrieked. Darcy winced and held the phone away from her ear. “WHAT’S UP IS THAT I JUST SAW A VIDEO OF YOU TASING THAT DIPSHIT! WHERE ARE YOU?” Jack muffled his laughter against her skin, his shoulders shaking silently.

“Erm… I’m… hiding?”

“WELL, COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW OR I’M CALLING NAT!”

Darcy groaned, “Noooo, don’t send Nat after me!”

“THEN YOU SHOULD have KNOWN BETTER THAN TO TASE JERKWADS WITHOUT ME!”  Only Jane Foster in a rage could manage to hang up on a cellphone in a way that so clearly echoed the satisfying slam of a heavy old rotary phone. Darcy stared at her phone in blank horror. Jack laughed harder.

“I like Foster’s attitude.”

“Nooo, this isn’t funny! She really will call Nat or Clint to track me down, then the others will find out! Thor might smite Malkovich into Muspelheim!” Jack kissed her throat.

“Good. Prick deserves it.”

“Ngh. You’re not helping. This is serious! Steve will wrap me in industrial strength bubble wrap while Bruce lectures me about the benefits of meditation and not giving in to anger.” More kisses.

“I fail to see the problem.”

“Well for starters,” Darcy pushed against his shoulders until he moved back. “It will be very difficult to have pizza with you on Friday night if I’m being held in protective custody by the Avengers.” Jack was clearly trying not to grin and failing badly. The adorable bastard.

“Yeah, that would suck, but there’s still the party on Saturday. Maybe afterwards you and I could slip away?”

“But that does fuck all for us right now,” Darcy grumbled, pouting. “I would think you’d take this issue more seriously, Agent Daniels, or is that another gun in your pants?” Jack shrugged.

“It’ll go down. I accept it as a regular hazard of seeing you.” That adorable flirty bastard. Jack gave her a swift kiss. “Besides, if Jane saw a video, then she’s probably worried sick about you, Sweetheart. I get that. You should go talk to her.” Adorable, sexy, flirty, sweet, understanding bastard! Darcy groaned and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“But what if I don’t want to leave?” Jack petted her hair and kissed the top of her head.

“You’ll have to go back out there eventually, Sweetheart. You can’t live in the copy room.” She did not particularly want to leave the copy room or Jack’s arms. She did not particularly want to do anything that involved standing. “I’d offer to escort you there but that might bring up a bunch of questions you don’t want to answer.” Darcy jerked upright, some of her dread fleeing.

“Would you really? Could you come with me and just glare everybody away? I really don’t want to have to talk to anyone.”

He hesitated, “You sure?”

“Am I sure that everyone who sees me in the hallway is going to know and barrage me with a thousand questions? Yeah. Am I sure that one scary look from you will send them running? Also yeah.” She sighed, curling in on herself a little. “I’d feel better if I weren’t alone. You make me feel better, Jack.”

He walked her down to the science labs. He kept his jacket off and held in front of him, but it didn’t diminish the sheer intimidation of his murderous glare or the sheen of his holster straps against his white shirt that Darcy admired. Not a single person stopped them.

Chapter Text

Jack handed her off to Jane at the door to the lab. Jane just gave the cowboy an unsmiling nod before pulling Darcy inside.

“So… on a scale of one to ten how mad at me are you?” Darcy asked after the door shut. Jane spun on her and wrapped her in a strangling hug.

“I’m not! I was just worried about you!”

“Oh,” Darcy sighed in relief and returned the hug. It reminded her of how many times they’d weathered alien invasions and the tantrums of god-like beings together over the years. Other people came and went, Avengers, SHIELD, spy-assassins, boyfriends, but when push came to shove it was Darcy and Jane against the whole fucking world. That world frequently included sexist assholes who didn’t think women should work in STEM fields. Usually Jane was the one being harassed and Darcy was the one to offer hugs, chocolate, and unconditional support. It felt so strange being on the other side.

“Come on,” Jane pulled away and grabbed her backpack off the table. “We’re going home.” Darcy didn’t argue. There was no arguing with Jane when she got like this. As they walked down to the garage Clint silently fell into step beside them, bracketing Darcy’s other side. Darcy’s embarrassment grew as Clint still silently ushered them into a non-descript black sedan. Jane and Darcy slid into the backseat and leaned on each other as they had after New Mexico, London, New York, and so many other fights. Darcy tucked her head down and closed her eyes as they navigated the midafternoon traffic, not wanting to look at Clint. How would he and her other friends react? Some would be supportive like Jack and Jane, but others, she felt sure, would think she was being silly and overreacting. She was too exhausted and overwrought to try to calculate how each person would react. She just wanted to go home and fall into bed alone.

That was not to be. They pulled into the garage to find the full Avengers complement waiting for them. What if they don’t want me here? What if they’re disappointed in me? Darcy tried to shut out the insidious whispers. She knew that couldn’t be it. That was the anxiety talking. Her friends wouldn’t do that.

As soon as she got out of the car Thor scooped her off the ground into a rib-cracking hug. Then everyone was talking all at once.

“Say the word, Darce’ and I’ll sent a team of the most evil cutthroat lawyers after that guy!” From Tony.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” from Steve.

“I shall rip him to shreds and feed him to the children of Fenrir!” From Thor.

“Perhaps the Hulk should pay him a visit?” Bruce said it so quietly, but everyone still heard him, and all turned to stare at the usually softspoken man. From Thor’s arms, Darcy gave a wet giggle. Natasha took the break in the chaos to creep in and kiss Darcy on the cheek.

“Very well done,” Nat told her. Tears clouded Darcy’s vision again.

They brought her upstairs and ensconced her in an epic blanket nest in the common room. Drinks, snacks, and cuddles were all provided in liberal amounts as they watched the Great British Baking Show.

Clint was the only one who hung back. Natasha cornered him in the large conference room that also served as the dining room. She only had to narrow her eyes at her longtime partner for him to crack like an egg.

“I should have known. I should have figured it out! It all makes sense now: Jack asked me about Malkovich and sexual harassment policies at SHIELD around the time he and Darcy became friends. He must have seen something and decided to act on it. That’s why he refused to tell us the name in the coffee shop. He was trying to protect Darcy. From us.” Clint rubbed at his eyes. There had been a headache brewing since he saw the video and it was threatening to turn into a full-blown migraine. “Why didn’t she tell us? We would have helped her out!” Nat leaned against the table beside him and sighed.

“I think you are correct. I believe Darcy is the reason Jack Daniels took such an interest in Malkovich’s behavior.” She leaned her head against Clint’s brawny shoulder. “It makes me like him more, that he would not give us her name. He wished to give her privacy in this. Clearly, he was following her wishes.”

“But why?” Clint demanded hotly. “Why not tell us?” Nat regarded him through half-lidded eyes, waiting for him brain to kick in. Her old friend was not a stupid man, though he certainly did a good impression of one sometimes.

“Why did she not tell us? There could be a dozen reasons, which you will think of when you are calmer and not fantasizing of riddling Malkovich with arrows.” Clint gave her a pinched smile. She really did know him too well. “Which concerns you more? That Darcy was being harassed or that she did not run to you for help?”

“Obviously the bigger concern is that it happened! But I still want to know! And why did he know and not us? She’s only known him for a few months!” Natasha shrugged.

“The only way to know for certain is to ask her.” Clint grumbled at the idea of asking Darcy questions and upsetting her further. “It will upset her more that you are not there to support her. She will have noticed your absence, Clint. Do not let this fester.” Having said her peace, the redheaded spy sailed from the room to find herself a perch among Darcy’s attendants. Clint frazzled his scalp until all his hair stood on end before finally standing up and following.

He gave Steve, who was splayed out on the floor in front of the center couch a prod with his foot. Steve raised an eyebrow but rolled upright to give Clint space to kneel down on the floor in front of where Darcy sat sandwiched between Thor and Jane. He tapped her knee gently to get her attention.

“Darce’?” Darcy looked down at him with red-rimmed eyes and then quickly away. Shit. So she had noticed. “Darce’, I’m so fucking happy you tased that bastard, but I gotta know, why? How long has he been bothering you? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I – well – it-“ Darcy’s voice came put scratched and halting. “At first it was just little shit that I could ignore, gross comments and bad jokes, then I heard some of the awful shit he was saying around the office about how I wouldn’t go out with him because- because I was already getting it from all the Avengers.” All the air went out of the room as multiple deadly individuals with high body counts of a different sort went very still. “It was such stupid bullshit! I didn’t want to bother you with something dumb like that! And he just never really stopped. But then today he grabbed me and I just couldn’t take it anymore!” The tears had started up again, and Darcy hated it. She fumbled in the pocket of her cardigan for another tissue but found Jack’s handkerchief instead. She played with the smeared cotton rather than look at Clint.

“Bother us? You- you didn’t want to bother us?” Clint repeated. “Clint...” someone said softly as Clint's voice went higher. “No! That’s not- no! Darcy, we’re your friends, we want to know when something is going on with you! A guy creating a hostile working environment and hassling you is worth telling us about! We could have-“

“Yes, I know you could have!” Darcy’s voice raised to a near shout. “I know you or Nat could have threatened to shoot him to get him to back off, but I didn’t want that! It would just have made everything bigger! That’s why I didn’t tell you!” Clint and a few of the others made distressed noises. Darcy felt Thor’s arm around her shoulder tighten. “I kept hoping that if I ignored him or just shut him down that he’d stop. That I could handle it myself without needing to make it a big thing.” She sniffed and clutched at the hanky. “I guess now it’s a really big thing.”

“Maybe you were right to do so,” Nat spoke from her seat on the arm of Bruce’s chair. “We may not have made a… proportional response. Or they would not have,” she said looking pointedly at Thor, Steve, and Clint. “But I could have helped you deal with these rumors, Clint could have helped keep him away from you, Tony could have connected you with a lawyer with experienced in dealing with workplace harassment-“

“Still will!” Tony’s interjection broke the cloying tension, as it was meant to.

“The point is, that we are your friends, and would have given any help we could, if only you had told us,” Nat finished, delivering a poignant Coup de grâce that destroyed any hope of further argument. Darcy nodded slowly.

“Is there aught else we should know, little lightning sister?” asked Thor gently. “Or anything you wish to tell us? Perhaps a personal recounting of how you smited the dishonorable Malkovich?”

“Err… maybe not today, big guy, it’s still a little fresh.” Darcy patted the closest bit of Thor she could reach. “But, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you guys… I’m sort of seeing someone.”

“Sort of,” scoffed Jane. “Is this the guy you got all dressed up for?”

“The one you skipped sushi night to go on a date with?” Tony demanded.

“Yeah, him. We’re not dating, we’re just…involved.”

“May we know the gentleman’s name? For… normal reasons?” Thor inquired delicately. Darcy narrowed her eyes at him. Sometimes it felt like Thor was a little too well adapted to living in modern NYC. She huffed.

“It’s Jack. From SHIELD. “

“HAH! FUCKING KNEW IT!” shouted Clint, as Tony and Bruce said “who?”. Natasha made the creepiest all-knowing chuckle.

“Finally,” Jane smirked.

“Well, I like him,” Steve announced. “When are you bringing him over?”

“Yes! We must… fry him?”

“No, Thor, it’s grill. We gotta grill Darcy’s new guy to make sure he’s treatin’ her right.”

“There will be no grilling or frying! I already said he’s not my boyfriend, so there will be no ceremonial ‘bringing him home to meet the family’. Half of you have met him already for Freya’s sake!”

“But I have not met him! Do you not look upon me as a member of your family, little lightning sister?” Thor did not often attempt to pout, and it looked extremely weird on his chiseled features. Darcy winced.

“You’ll get to meet him at the party on Saturday. He said he’ll be there. He’s just not coming as my boyfriend.”

“I’m a little confused,” Bruce admitted.

“I’m not!” Tony scoffed. “Darcy is having some fun with a guy from SHIELD. Nothing complicated about that.”

“Except that she likes him. She admitted it!” Jane, you traitor, why do you pick the worst time to remember shit? Darcy shifted uncomfortably in her seat and took a hasty drink of her coke to buy time.

“I do like him,” she acknowledged. “We are seeing each other casually, for like, hookups. I think. There was this weird agreement involved.”

“Ooh, sexy!” cheered Tony. Steve cuffed the back of his head and made a shushing motion.

“Not your kind of weird, Tony, just weird. When we started this thing he said there needed to be rules, but I really don’t understand them.”

“Hmm. This conversation should involve alcohol.” Nat got up and fetched several bottles from the liquor cabinet, pouring a healthy measure of rum into Darcy’s coke when she returned.

“Gee, thanks,” Darcy muttered sarcastically as she sipped. Nat raised her own hastily made gin and tonic in salute. “Well, the simplest one was monogamy.” There were a few side mutters. “But then he said nothing public. I kinda assumed he meant PDA, but now I think he meant no public relationship of any kind.” The muttering grew louder. Someone coughed “asshole”. “He told me no labels. That I’m not his girlfriend or his anything.” The room exploded. More calls of “asshole” and “hell no” peppered in with “the fuck is his problem?!”. Darcy just gazed into the sugary dark brown depths of her drink, wishing it contained all the answers to life’s problems. Unfortunately, people who tried to solve their problems with rum were either pirates or alcoholics, and neither group appealed to Darcy. Jack’s words sounded a lot worse when she said them aloud to her friends.

“I have to say, I’m really shocked. He seems so polite and respectful,” offered Steve, spurring on more loud commentary.

“I wonder if it is not a matter of manners, but something else entirely.” Nat and Bruce alone were calm amidst their more emotive friends. “What did he say exactly?” Darcy shrugged.

“I can’t remember the exact wording. I was a little upset at the time. I remember him saying something about me not belonging to him, that he’s got no hold on me, that this can end whenever I- whenever I find someone better.” She sniffed, trying to keep her already inflamed emotions in check. “That he was m-mine, but I’m not his. And I don’t get it! How are we together but not together?”

For once the peanut gallery was silent.

“I think it is a fundamental misunderstanding of the dynamics of your relationship.” All eyes turned to Nat. Of all the Avengers, Nat understood people and their motivations the best. She had to. It had been trained into her brutally and reinforced by her need to survive through everything the world had thrown at her. “You are thinking of your relationship in a normal way, equal, with give and take on both sides. I don’t think Daniels is of the same mind. It’s in the way he said it, you can break up with him at any time if you find someone else, that he has no claim over you. Whether by belief or relinquishment, you hold the power here.”

“Me!? But he’s – he’s Agent Jack Daniels! How the hels am I supposed to have power over him?”

Nat shrugged, “Because he is giving it to you. I’m not certain why, there could be many reasons-“

“Speculate then!”

“He may be trying to make up for the physical power imbalance of him being a trained agent. Or perhaps there is some insecurity. He did say he would be with you until you found someone better. Or there could be an inequality of emotion, where he believes he is far more invested in this relationship, and that you will one day leave him for someone else. It could also be a matter of safety. Jack Daniels has not survived this long as an agent without making enemies. Keeping your relationship quiet and uncommitted could be meant to protect you.”

The group sat in silence, sipping drinks and trying to digest Nat’s words. Darcy’s tired mind was spinning faster than a carnival ride and making her feel twice as sick. She was trying to slow her thoughts and emotions down long enough to sort through them when Clint spoke.

“Ya know, I’d bet on the emotional stuff actually. He said some strange stuff at the bar when I was asking if he was going to join the club of Darcy’s people.” At Darcy’s nonplussed expression and a waved hand from Nat he elaborated. “He talked about it like it was something he had to earn or pay for,” at the outraged looks brewing on multiple faces he frantically shook his head. “Not like that! He said nothing for nothing. I was talking about how you bake and make hats and are fun to talk to, and the guy seemed confused as to why you’d want to be friends with him. I think he meant that he doesn’t have much to offer people, like he couldn’t be your friend unless he brought something to the table, like a negotiation or an exchange.”

“Friends don’t work like that!” Darcy told him hotly. Clint held up both his hands in surrender.

“I tried to explain that, but I don’t think he got it. And if he’s so hung up on ideas like that in friendships, I gotta think he’d apply it to romantic stuff too.”

“I understand,” Thor said gravely. “This man believes he is unworthy of our Darcy, thus places himself at her complete disposal in hope that she will show him some small regard rather than none at all.”

“That’s completely bananas, Thor,” Darcy replied in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Why?”

“Gah!” Darcy harrumphed, covering her hands with her face. “Because he’s Jack! He’s all handsome, and smart, and badass, and kinda funny and sweet too.” Thor patted her back in bemusement.

“But mayhap he does not see himself in the same light that you do? I wonder what he would say about you in a similar conversation.”

Jack would say I’m funny, and kind, and weird, and a good baker, and then he’d call me gorgeous and absolutely mean it.

“Please, I’m not good for much, not anymore.”

I remember him saying that to me when we were talking about the rules. I was too distracted by everything to notice then, but he says that sort of thing a lot. He puts himself down.

She remembered the man she had first met; a cranky, paranoid, closed-off person who didn’t understand why she might want to know something simple like his favorite animal. How he didn’t understand why she was talking to him. Dozens of tiny moments were stacking up.

An agent with critically low self-esteem? A man like that? How? How is that possible?

But it made sense.

“Oh my gods,” she whispered softly. “Jack doesn’t think he’s good enough. For me.”

“Smart guy!” cheered Tony, who was quickly smacked by someone. Darcy straightened and rubbed at her tired eyes. She really had been through a few too many emotional rollercoasters today.

“I’ll have to rework my plan.”

“Plan to do what, Milaya?”

“Well first I planned to befriend him and get him to open up a little, and I’d say that’s been accomplished. But then I realized he’s fucking hot and a great kisser, so I decided that I was going to get him to break those dumb rules by being so awesome he’d want to be in a real relationship with me.”

“I see,” Natasha tittered behind her glass.

“I say, mission accomplished. It’s just that you happen to be way ahead of where you thought you were,” Jane bounced happily in place and chomped on a victory pretzel. She always did like accomplishing goals.

“So what do I do now?”

“Take things slow,” Bruce advised. “I’m sure that in time things will fall into place.”

“Fuck that! Go on a big romantic couples vacation and use the time together to sort out your shit! Wanna use my cabin in Big Bear?” Darcy smiled at Tony’s casual generosity.

“Thanks Tony, but I don’t think we’re at the couples vacation stage yet.”

“Well by the end of it you would be,” he chortled.

“So what are you gonna do?” Steve asked quietly, concern shining clear through his eyes.

“I think I’m going to go more Brucie’s way on this one. We’ve only been involved for a few weeks. We’re still getting to know each other really. At least now I have a better idea of what might be going on in his head,” she smiled softly. “And it isn’t lack of feelings for me.”

“Definitely not. You all should have seen him when he escorted her back to the labs today. He looked ready to stab anyone who looked at you the wrong way!”

“Wait he did what? Why?” Clint leaned over to poke at Jane with another pretzel stick. Jane turned quickly and bit the thing in half, nearly taking one of Clint’s fingers with hit. He gave an outraged yelp and retreated.

“He saw what happened in the cafeteria. He came after me to make sure I was okay.”

There was a collective “awwww”. Thor squeezed Darcy’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

“He may be a worthy match for you after all, little sister.”

The cubicle farm was quiet this late at night, though there were still a few people dotted here and there. Jack’s desk was its own little island. He sat reclined in his chair nursing a mostly cold cup of coffee. After He left Darcy with Dr. Foster, he had parked himself here and hadn’t left. If he had, he might have been tempted to go find Malkovich again, and that would only make things more complicated. So there he sat, working on his post-mission report.

He had sent a few emails first. He had found a copy of the video that Jane had mentioned which had been posted to one of the many employee chatrooms. This one had been composed mostly of the science departments and was usually used to remember meeting times, announce that people had brought in donuts, or post science memes. Jack downloaded the file saved it in several places, took the precaution of putting a copy on a USB drive, and then sent another copy to Agent Cole.

His message was simple; ‘It’s time’.

Cole had gotten back to him in less than 10 minutes. ‘I know, I saw. I sent it to the others. Two have already agreed to make formal complaints. There may be more. We need to arrange a meeting.’

Jack found himself on an email chain with several female SHIELD employees with a meeting set for a restaurant 10 minutes from the SHIELD office for lunchtime on Monday. He forwarded the message to Darcy and Romanoff. Romanoff had added several more names to the chain. Darcy hadn’t replied at all.

Jack sloshed the dregs of his coffee and wished he were sitting on a couch with Darcy, maybe in his apartment with a warm cup of decaf after dinner and something silly playing on the TV. Darcy, warm and safe beside him, laughing at some ridiculous reality TV antics.

He hoped she was okay. He hoped Dr. Foster and her other friends were taking care of her.

Hang on, aren’t we technically friends too? Clint told me I’m part of the club of Darcy’s People now. Our agreement doesn’t negate that. I could reach out… as a concerned friend.

He snorted at his own absurdity but picked up his phone and shot out a quick ‘how are you doing?’ text before he could second-guess it. She responded almost immediately with a photo of half-filled Chinese takeout cartons next to some kind of card game. ‘Better. We have enough food to fuel a small army and I’ve already won the first round of Card Against Humanity’.  Jack chuckled at the idea of trying to play that game with the Avengers.

‘Good. I’m glad they’re taking care of you’.

‘Well you also took very good care of me today. Thank you, Jack [kissy face emoji]’.

A knot of tension that had been sitting just under his ribcage slowly unfurled. She would be okay. Saturday night couldn’t get here soon enough.

Chapter Text

He felt a tiny trickle of sweat go down the small of his back. The damned elevator was taking forever to get him to the upper floors. Feels like another one of the time bubbles. Did I bring the right weapons for this?

The steel doors finally opened with a well maintained hsss and a blare of sound hit him; old rock playing from some speakers, ice cubes clinking against glasses, and a general hubbub of talking, shouting, and laughing. Jack cautiously stepped out and surveyed the room.

It wasn’t quite the top of Avengers Tower, but it was close. There were massive windows along one wall that showed the twinkling lights of the city below and nearby was a big grouping of couches and squashy chairs in front of flatscreen TV. Behind the TV was a long, clear glassed conference room with more windows and screens. Food covered the long dark wood table. To the left of the elevators was a large kitchen and storage area where a makeshift cocktail bar was laid out. People congregated in small groups chatting amiably. No one seemed too drunk yet, so Jack probably wasn’t late.

He scanned the crowd, picking out familiar faces, but the person he wanted to see most wasn’t there. He wanted to seek out Darcy immediately. She hadn’t come to work on Thursday or Friday but had texted him to say she was taking some quiet time to herself to rest and relax. He took that to mean that their flirtatious Friday pizza plan was off and didn’t hassle her. He really wanted to see her though. Not her boyfriend, he reminded himself firmly. Don’t go chasing after her and bothering her. You’ll run into her at some point. His first obligation was to greet the host, and then he could go find Clint or Rogers.

Tony Stark was behind the kitchen island that was serving as the bar, wearing a Guns’n Roses T-shirt under a black sports coat, shaking a cocktail with the flair of an inveterate showman, chatting with a beautiful blond woman. Jack wended his way through the clumps of people and approached the billionaire. He hoped Clint and Rogers had told the man that they had invited Jack to his party.

It seemed any concerns of that nature were unfounded. Tony Stark took one look at Jack and abandoned the cocktail shaker with glee.

“Hi! You must be the Cowboy!” Jack smirked and tapped the brim of his hat.

“That I am. Nice to meet you Mr. Stark, I’m Jack Daniels.” Stark grinned and shook Jack’s hand.

“Please, it’s Tony! What’ll you have to drink? Coat closet’s in there, by the way.” He gestured to a walk-in storage area near the door.

“I’ll take a beer,” said Jack as he stripped off his coat. He hadn’t wanted to dress too formally, so he had worn his leather jacket with a red plaid flannel shirt and dark wash jeans. He hung up his jacket and did a quick check to make sure none of his weapons were too visible. He may have been too paranoid (or was that experienced?) to go without them, but it didn’t seem like good manners to be carrying openly. When he rejoined Stark at the bar there were several beer options awaiting him. He took one and murmured a thank you. The blond woman and her cocktail had gone. Stark sipped at his own drink, still grinning openly.

“So you know Clint, Nat, Steve, and Darcy of course, and they’re all here tonight. I’m not sure who else you might know… Oh! Phil’s here. Phil works for SHIELD too.”

“Phil?” Jack blinked in surprise. “Phil Coulson?” A senior member of SHIELD, the older man didn’t seem the type to attend a Stark party.

“That’s the guy! I saw him chatting with Carol by the mozzarella sticks. Hmm, who else?” Stark’s social calculations were interrupted by a man with graying dark curly hair.

“Tony,” the man greeted softly.

“Ah! Here’s Bruce. Bruce Banner meet Jack Daniels.” This is the guy that can turn into a giant green rage monster? The short, softspoken physicist did not look capable of leveling cities. But then, the man sipping a neon green cocktail out of a martini glass in a ratty t-shirt didn’t look like one of the richest men on the planet.

“Dr. Banner.” Jack held out a hand. The doctor looked him up and down, assessing, before taking it and shaking firmly.

“Agent Daniels. I’ve heard good things about you.”

“Whatever Clint says is a lie,” Jack countered automatically. Banner smiled slightly while Stark snorted.

“Probably. But I meant from Darcy.” Jack mind went blank. How was he supposed to respond to that? Just what had Darcy been saying?

“Yeah, she does mention him a lot. You two must be close?” Stark wiggled his eyebrows.

“Mmm, we see each other a lot at work,” he replied neutrally.

“She said you were there for her after she tased that guy, made sure she was okay. All of us were glad she had someone there looking out for her,” countered Bruce.

“We are friends.” Jack throat felt like it was closing up. ‘Friends’ definitely did not describe how he felt about Darcy. “She just needed someone to talk to her, calm her down. It could have been anyone of her friends at SHIELD.” Banner cocked his head slightly and gave Jack another assessing look.

“Maybe.” Jack wasn’t sure what the scientist meant by that, but he was beginning to feel like a small lab animal being examined for strange side effects.

“Friends!” A booming voice startled the three of them out of their little bubble. A shaggy haired man who could have given any bodybuilder a run for their money with twinkling blue eyes was leaning over the bar. “We were instructed not to grill the good Agent Daniels!”

“Grilling? Who, us? Nope, no grilling here,” Stark announced with a too-white grin.

“Then surely you will not mind if I steal him away? No? Excellent! Come, Agent Daniels, my Jane will be eager to see you!” Jane? That had to mean that the bodybuilder was actually Thor. Here was someone who looked exactly how Jack would have pictured them. The sort of god/alien did look like he spent a lot of time swinging around war hammers and fighting the forces of evil. Jack thought of the small pistol strapped to his ankle. It would take something a good deal bigger to take Thor down. Something like a small cannon, thought Jack grimly as he trailed Thor over to the windows.

“I hope Tony and Bruce have not frightened you off, Agent Daniels.”

“No, not at all. What did you mean about ‘grilling’?” Before Thor could answer him, Doctor Foster appeared.

“Oh good, you came!”

“Yes, Ma’am. Clint and Captain Rogers were kind enough to invite me.” Thor and Foster exchanged a glance. Evidently, they were one of those couples that could communicate entire conversations silently, for Jane gave a shrug.

“Well, you are here now. Tony got you a drink? You’ll need it. By the way, thanks for getting Darcy back to the lab on Wednesday.” She gave him a small smile, and Jack dipped his head. “We got her back her and all tucked up, but then we had to have some rough conversations, so I think she’s still a little tired. Has she seemed okay to you?”

“Why would I know? I haven’t seen her since Wednesday.” Jane rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, but you’ve been texting and talking to her, right?”

“Yes,” he admitted cautiously, but said nothing else. He was on such shaky ground here he simply didn’t know what was safe to say. Jane sighed and stepped closer.

“Look, she trusts you, you know that right? Darcy really doesn’t let other people see her panic attacks-“

“She’s had them before?” Jack broke in.

“She has had them for many years,” Thor answered softly, “Though our Darcy’s disposition is a cheerful one. She spends a great deal of time supporting others but has far less tolerance for her own foibles.”

“I just want to make sure she’s getting some kind of support. She didn’t feel comfortable talking about Malkovich with the others, and she didn’t talk to me about it either.” The tiny scientist rubbed her arms as if cold and the Asgardian placed an arm around her shoulders. “And after Wednesday she hasn’t brought it up again. It’s not like her to be this quiet. If she’s talking to you… that’s fine, that good, but I just wanted to be sure she was talking to someone about it.” The clear concern on Foster’s face melted some of Jack’s reserve.

“She texted me a little on Wednesday evening, and then on Thursday to say that she wasn’t coming to work for the rest of the week.” But she had never responded to the email about the sexual harassment meeting. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, thinking hard. “She talked to you about why she never said anything to you all?”

“It sounds like she was trying to minimize it in her own mind or ignore it in the hopes that it would stop. She said she didn’t want to get the Avengers involved because they would have made the situation bigger and the rumors worse.”

“I never did agree with her about that bit. Heaven knows that at least the Widow could have helped her deal with shit covertly. I think part of it was that she didn’t want to look weak.”

“Darcy is not weak!” Thor snapped.

“Never said she was!” Jack snapped back. “But she’s got a bunch of friends with superpowers and physical training that she can never match who go out and save the city multiple times per month. I think she believed it would make her weak or whiny to admit that a coworker was bothering her.” Thor closed his mouth with an audible snap and Jack could see him grind his teeth.

“But I don’t have powers! I’m not an Avenger!” protested Jane.

“Yeah, but it might have been awkward to admit that part of the harassment was Malkovich telling everyone she slept with your boyfriend.”

Jane rubbed her face and groaned, “I didn’t even think of that!”

“Well ,she might have. Many a friendship has been wrecked ‘cause of rumors like that. Darcy didn’t want to risk it, or trouble anybody, or even admit there was an actual problem. She talked to me about it because I saw it happen firsthand, and I’m an outsider who didn’t give her much choice but to discuss it.”

“You are no longer an outsider, Jack Daniels. As Jane has said, Darcy trusts you and looks to you for support as well now.” Jack stared at the big man in utter astonishment. He said it so simply, like it wasn’t a bag of bricks dropped on his head. He wasn’t surprised Darcy trusted him, she was an open and trusting person, but relying on him? Jack Daniels couldn’t be relied on! He’d fuck it all up, make some sort of horrible mistake and destroy everything.

Except what had he messed up on lately? Since he’d come to SHIELD most of his missions had gone well, and even if they hadn’t it wasn’t because of him. He’d made a few casual friends in Clint and Agent Cole, as well as established a level of trust with some of the other agents he’d worked with. He would finally be able to force the SHIELD upper management to deal with Malkovich. He wished that it hadn’t distressed Darcy further in the process, but it was a small price to pay to see her safe in the long term. His recent track record was actually alright.

Long term. Darcy. I want that. I want to see her every day, watch her make cookies, and pour coffee for her in the mornings. I don’t want to keep acting like I’m not stupidly in love with her. I don’t want to have to ask other people about her and how she’s doing, I want to be there for everything. I want everything with her. I can’t fuck this up, not this, not her.

He looked at Thor and Dr. Foster, who barely knew him but were openly accepting him in Darcy’s life. It made something inside his chest ache as he remembered his old friends from Statesmen, and how he had once considered those people his closest friends and even family. These were Darcy’s family and he seemed to have passed some sort of test without even trying. He reared back in shock.

“You know, don’t you? About me and her?” Foster raised her eyebrows at him.

“Was I aware that there was a new guy in my best friend’s life making her smile and wear her good underwear? Yes. I didn’t make the connection until Wednesday though.” Jack struggled to keep his face straight. He kinda liked Foster’s way of thinking, but he just wasn’t sure if the Norse god standing next to her would let the underwear comment pass without bodily injury.

“I make her smile?” He latched frantically onto the other part of the sentence.

“Yes. Definitely. And worry too.” Jack raised an eyebrow at the little scientist. “She thinks you don’t take good enough care of yourself. You need to do better.”

“Beg pardon?”

“You need to fix your shit so that she won’t spend all of her time worrying if you’re okay.” Foster stepped in and poked his chest. In deference to the god standing behind her, Jack did not so much as twitch. “I know this life can seriously fuck people up, but you have to be kinder to yourself.”

Foster’s big doe-eyes shone up at him like she could see all the broken, jagged pieces of his insides. Her words made an eerie counter to the thoughts that had just run through his head.

“Darcy wants you around, so try to be a person that can stick around for her. That’s all I wanted to say.” She stepped back and leaned into the solid wall of Thor. Jack let out a slow breath.

“What, no shovel talk?” He asked dryly to avoid thinking.

“No need. You’re a smart enough man to know what would happen if you seriously fucked up.” Foster waved her hands vaguely upwards at the god of thunder. He snorted.

“Yes, Ma’am, I do. She’d taze me to kingdom come.” Thor startled him by letting out a booming laugh. Dr. Foster smiled and patted the arm that he had looped around her middle.

“Yes! She would! It was the first thing she did when I fell to Earth. Has she told you the story?” Jack chuckled along as Thor animatedly told him his perspective of being banished by his father and falling to Earth where he was promptly hit by a van being driven by Jane and then tazed by Darcy. Thor was nearing the end when Clint appeared.

“Telling that old story again, big guy?”

“It is a most excellent tale, Friend Clint!”

“Sure, sure. I just came over to say hi to Cowboy.”

“Hey Clint.” Jack smiled in relief at the familiar face. “What’s new?”

“Turns out there’s this fancy cheese called gruyere that’s really tasty.”

Jack chuckled, “Oh?”

“Great with these little crackers. Come try some!” And smoother than a trout, Clint whisked him away to the conference table laden with food. He and Clint promptly fell into a heated debate about preferred cheeses and the best kind of party nibbles. It was a relief to spar light-heartedly with Barton and anyone else who ventured a comment as it kept his mind far away from thoughts of ‘fixing his shit’.

Then he heard an eruption of giggling off to his right. He glanced over to see who was having so much fun. The crowd shifted and he saw a slim man in a red and blue mask talking to… Darcy. She was laughing and holding a drink in one hand as the man beside her passionately told a story using expansive hand motions. She looked gorgeous. She wore a familiar sweater that threatened to fall off one should every time she laughed. Her eyes sparkled in amusement, and she had on a lipstick so darkly red it was almost purple.

Jack’s feet were moving in her direction without another thought. He didn’t see Clint trying and failing to contain his mirth behind him. He drifted closer and saw the exact second she noticed him. He thought she had looked happy before, but her eyes widened and smile got even bigger. For him. Because he was there.

“Jack!” she squealed, grabbing his arm and tugging him forward.

“Hey Darcy.”

“Hay is for horses, Cowboy,” she purred. Standing next to her, Jack felt like the temperature of the room had just risen several degrees.

“Mm. Then good evenin’, Darlin’.” Oops. The endearment just slipped out, sliding over his tongue like warm honey. Fuck. Maybe she won’t notice.

Darlin’. He just called me Darlin’ in front of people! Darcy had to restrain the urge to grab a handful of napkins and turn them into makeshift pom poms. What a great night! The food was delicious, the atmosphere was good, and Jack was here looking all warm and cuddly in his flannel shirt. And gods bless those jeans, she sighed. Nngh. No more touching! Down, sit, stay girl!

“Jack, have you met Spidey yet?” She turned back towards the masked vigilante. “Spiderman, meet Agent Jack Daniels from SHIELD.” Jack appeared unphased but curious as he shook hands. Spidey had worn a sweater and jeans over his spandex and had half of his skin-tight mask pulled up to eat and drink. It was a weird look, but Darcy was just glad he was comfortable enough to show up. Spidey’s relationship with the Avengers in public was one of disapproving tolerance, but privately the Avengers didn’t care that he wanted to keep his identity secret and completely understood his desire to remain a freelance vigilante. Darcy had always found him to be a funny, quiet nerd who usually hung out in a corner with Bruce and Jane at these events.

“Nice to meet you Mr., um, Agent Daniels.”

“Likewise. I think I’ve seen you swinging around on the news?” Spidey shuffled uncomfortably.

“Er, yeah that was me.” Darcy was just about to warn Jack that Tony’s parties were safe places where agency-types were not allowed to arrest or interrogate people when Jack surprised her.

“I’ve been wondering how you sever your swing lines when you’re done with ‘em. When I was younger, I used to try some more acrobatic movements with my whip, but getting it to securely catch and then release was always a problem.”

“You use a whip?! Are you the real Indy-freaking-Jones?” Jack laughed and launched into an explanation of his combat style, which soon had Spiderman at ease and offering his own comments. Darcy smiled as she watched the two very different men talk tension and tensile strength. Finally Jack had to shake his head and sigh.

"I might have given it another go if I were ten years younger, but I think it’s a bit late for me to try any kind of swinging around like you do. But we should talk about something else, we’re borin’ Darcy.” Darcy jerked out of her pleasant contemplation of how handsome Jack’s face was when he was smiling and talking.

“What? No! I’m not bored!” Someone across the room called out for Spiderman to come settle an argument.

“Uh oh, Emma and Steve are debating ethics again. Gotta go!” Rather than walk around the long conference table, Spidey shot out a web and launched himself overhead with a neat flip, landing directly beside the bickering pair. Jack gave an impressed whistle.

“Cool guy.” Darcy nodded, smiling up at him helplessly. His eyes were doing the cute crinkles at the corners that made her stomach go all gooey. Jack smirked as though he knew exactly what effect he was having on her. “Fun people at this shindig.”

“I hope that includes me.”

“Sure does.” Darcy felt a tap on her shoulder. She jumped about a mile, having been absorbed in staring at Jack.

“Odin’s balls, Nat! You startled me!” Jack tipped his hat in lieu of cussing or greeting, but Darcy felt him tense.

“I can’t help it if you lack situational awareness, Milaya. I was sent to tell you that Tony is starting a game of Truth, Dare, or Drink in the living room.”

“Oh good, c’mon Jack, this’ll be fun!” She grabbed Jack’s hand and towed him out into the living room where people had begun to form a circle with Tony in the middle holding an empty wine bottle.

“It’s time to play, kids! If the bottle lands on you, choose truth, dare, or drink, and challengers remember that this is for fun so no serious shit or anything too illegal!” Darcy pulled Jack into the circle as she took her place beside Nat.

“This is always tons of fun! Last time Clint and Spidey ended up doing this really cool circus routine!” Jack chuckled and winked.

“I’m always ready to see Birdbrain get embarrassed.”

In the middle of the circle, Tony spun the bottle. It landed on Jane.

“Truth!”

“Jane Foster, have you ever … stolen anything?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Tony, of course I have.”

“My heart!” boomed Thor from beside her, prompting a round of groans and indulgent chuckles.

“And the last cinnamon bun yesterday. And a shiny lip gloss from the drugstore when I was nine.”

“Ah ha! So you admit you are a thief! Are you the one who took my good blowtorch?”

“No, that was Darcy.”

“AAAAAH!” Tony spun on his heels to point at Darcy. “YOU! WHERE IS IT?”

“Sorry Tony!” Darcy laughed. “I needed it for science(!) two weeks ago. I swear I put it back though.”

“WHERE?”

“The welding bench.”

“THE WELDING BE- oh. I haven’t checked there.” The crowd snickered. Jane came forward and gave the bottle a spin. It landed on Phil. The senior SHIELD agent took one look at Jane’s maniacal grin and said “drink!”

“Coward!” Jane snarled as Phil took the shot that Tony handed him.

“She’s never forgiven him for confiscating our equipment and data in Puente Antiguo,” Darcy told Jack. Jack shook his head in pity.

“Never get between a squint and their tech.”

“Smart man.” The bottle spun again, this time landing on Jack. He frowned and looked Phil up and down.

“Dare.” Phil nodded and paused to think. People began shouting suggestions.

“Agent Daniels, I dare you to take off the hat and leave it off for the rest of the night.”

“Noooo, Phil, why?” moaned Darcy. She really liked the hat, and Jack in the hat. Jack just smirked.

“Goin’ easy on me, Coulson?” Phil only shrugged, giving a polite half smile. Jack swept his fellow agent an exaggerated bow and doffed his hat. A few other people from SHIELD who knew how rarely Jack removed the hat whistled like he done a strip tease. Jack spun the bottle. It landed on Nat.

“Dare.” Jack rubbed at his moustache, pondering. The crowd held its breath.

“I dare you to walk around SHIELD HQ for one hour in a frilly pink tutu.” The crowd went wild! Natasha sucked in breath before glaring and finally nodding. Darcy did her best to conceal her giggles. At least there would be one good thing about going in to work on Monday!

The game continued for several rounds before it came to be Steve’s turn to challenge and the bottle landed on Darcy.

“Uh oh!” Darcy edged behind Jack. “Last time we did this I asked him how many of the chorus girls he kissed back in the day. He turned redder than a tomato, said a gentlemen didn’t kiss and tell, and had to do a bunch of stuff as a forfeit!”

“What’s it gonna be, Darce’?”

“Dare! And nothing dangerous for normal people, Stevie!”

“Fine.” Steve had an absolutely shit-eating grin on his handsome face. Darcy knew immediately she should have wimped out and taken the shot. “I dare you to pick a person in the room and go play Seven Minutes in Heaven in the coat closet!”

 Darcy shrieked, “How did you even learn about that game, Steven Grant Rogers?!” The whole circle laughed and several guys stuck their hands up to yell “I volunteer”. Darcy groaned and smacked her forehead. Damn blond troll. He knows that I want to pick Jack, but I shouldn’t because of Jack’s whole nothing in public rule, but then I really don’t want to even casually kiss anyone else. That giant turd! See if I bake anything he likes ever again! Paralyzed by indecision, Darcy just glared at Steve, her face getting redder. She refused to look at Jack.

 Suddenly his arm went around her waist, and he began marching her across the room towards the closet. The room erupted again into hoots, hollering, and stamping feet to cheer them on. Jack opened the door and swept her inside, slamming the door closed behind them.

“Jack, I – umph!” His mouth crashed into hers, fast and greedy. Darcy’s brain promptly turned to mush as she felt Jack’s tongue sweep over hers again and again. He backed her against the door and held her crushed against him. Darcy loved it. She threw her arms around his neck and refused to let a centimeter of space separate them. She lost all track of time as his hands rubbed over her waist, and back, and neck. She groaned when he finally peeled his mouth away.

“Two minute warnin’, Sweetheart.”

“Hnnn. What? Right, the game.” Jack gave her a smirk that practically melted her panties right then and there.

“Did I make you forget, Darcy?” Then he ducked his head and began kissing her throat and pulling at the neckline of her sweater until it slipped off one shoulder. He gave a hum of satisfaction and began kissing that too.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Mmm. Not that I’m complaining, but I didn’t think you’d be up for this.” Jack pulled back and stared at her, eyes dark and jaw tight.

“I know it breaks the rules, and I’m sorry about that, but I couldn’t watch you go off to kiss somebody else, I just couldn’t.” Jealous or territorial, Darcy didn’t care what it was called, she just liked that Jack had such strong opinions about her kissing other people.

“I didn’t want to kiss anybody but you,” she admitted, rubbing his cheek affectionately. He kissed her again, hard and quick.

“Good, that’s – good.” She left a trail of kisses from the corner of his mouth to the hinge of his jaw, nuzzling contentedly into his neck. He tightened his arms around her in a hug. Darcy felt safe. Safe and warm and wanted.

“You think anyone would notice if we don’t leave this closet for the rest of the night?”

“Wouldn’t exactly be good manners, but I’m struggling to care.” He sighed and kissed the top of her head. “I’ve been wanting to do this since I got here.”

“What, kiss me in the coat closet?” She giggled.

“That part too, but I meant… this.” He smoothed a large hand over her back. “Just… hold you… for a bit.” Darcy was torn between melting into a puddle and doing a happy dance. She was prevented from doing either one by Tony banging on the door shouting, “Time’s up, Lovebirds”.

“I’ll murder him,” she groaned. “Wanna help me hide the body?” Jack laughed.

“Go on and taze him while no one’s looking. Thor tells me it’s practically a rite of passage around here.” Darcy laughed too as they disentangled themselves.

“Did he tell you the epic tale of how Taser Girl was born?”

“Hell yes. I laughed like a maniac thinking of you talking down that Viking with a little man-made lightning.” Darcy exited the closet smiling. The partygoers seemed to have gotten much drunker in the minutes they’d been gone and shouted unnecessarily loudly at their reappearance.

“What? Haven’t you ever seen two adults go into a closet to make out for a bit?” Darcy demanded. Everyone laughed and they settled easily back into the game that had continued without them. Eventually people got tired of playing and wandered off to get more drinks or food, but not before Jack had been dared to dance the Cotton Eyed Joe, and Dary had been forced to admit how she had managed to boobytrap Clint's throwing knife case last spring with superstrong adhesive and feathers that forced him to walk around looking like a chicken for several days.

Jack followed Darcy to the buffet table where they both got enough party snacks to feed the Hulk. She persuaded him to try a fancy fried spring roll-like thing. He retaliated with fried pickles.

“No, Jack! That’s terrifying! Why would anyone make that? Why would anyone eat that?”

“Cmon, Darcy, you hang out with a bunch of crazy superheroes and a fried pickle is what scares you?”

“The Midwest desire to fry everything is definitely a thing to be feared!”

“They are a people with powerful stomachs, it’s true, but fried pickles are excellent.” He bit down on one with a satisfying crunch. Darcy smirked.

“Let’s see how many women you can get to follow you into a closet with pickle-breath!” Jack smirked right back and licked a crumb off his fingers.

“Only want the one, Sweetheart.”

“Oh my Jeezus! He is such a romantic! Do you rent him by the hour or is he yours for the full night?” said a new voice from behind Darcy. Darcy chuckled and turned to face the person in full body black and red leathers.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up, Wade. This is Jack, by the way, he’s-“

“Oh I know who he is, Sugartits.” Wade’s voice deepened, “Been a minute, Agent Whiskey. I heard through the grapevine you were dead.” Darcy stared at Wade and then swiveled back to Jack. His face had gone agent-blank and his hand drifted to his hip where he usually wore a gun or knife. Agent Whiskey? Was that an old codename or callsign? I knew Jack was a spy before he got to SHIELD, but who was he an agent for? Wade must know. This could get very awkward or deadly real fast.

“Been there, done that,” Jack snarled. “Wasn’t a fan. How’s business been lately, Deadpool? Kill anyone I know?” Wade sighed melodramatically and flapped his hand. In contrast to Jack, whose every muscle was tensed, Wade leaned against the buffet table looking as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Considering that no one could kill him he probably wouldn’t have cared if Jack had drawn a rocket launcher on him. But Darcy cared. Gods help her, but she actually liked Wade’s ridiculous commentaries and awful jokes.

 She stepped so that she was fully centered between the two men, extending a hand out to almost touch their chests. She didn’t dare touch Jack right now because who knew what a hair-trigger state facing the unkillable merc with a mouth had put him in. Darcy didn’t touch Wade because he was usually covered in blood and illegal substances, and he didn’t wash that suit half as often as he should.

“Boys, boys, you’re both pretty! Put your dicks away so that we can continue enjoying this nice party in peace.” She heard Wade take a breath to say something. “I mean it, Wade! Play nice or you get  booted and not invited back for months.”

“I was just gonna say that I like your new boyfriend, Darcy!” Wade whined.

“Uh huh, sure.”

“No seriously! I didn’t even realize who he was without the hat on! Where is it, Agent Whis-“ A tiny knife flicked out from somewhere up Jack’s sleeve and he held it to Wade’s jugular, at the same moment he jerked Darcy’s arm to pull her behind him. Darcy inhaled sharply. He was so fast!

“I don’t use that name anymore.” Jack’s voice was cold and alien with barely any of his usual southern drawl. Wade snickered.

“Now, now, Agent whoever the fuck, we wouldn’t want to draw blood at the fancy party,” Wade cooed.

“Please, you wear it like a goddamn fashion accessory, you piece of –“

“Gentlemen, is there a problem here?” Darcy had never been so glad to see Natasha Romanoff.

“You seriously let this psychopath run around here, Romanoff?” Jack demanded without taking his eyes or knife away from Wade.

“Yes. He knows what will happen if he misbehaves here.”

“Lots of slow, painful deaths at the hands of the most beautiful arachnid out there!” Chirped Wade.

“Hey, Jack, let’s grab some air.” Clint had come up from behind Jack. Jack glared at Wade. A twitch of his fingers and the knife vanished as if it had never been. Clint touched Jack’s shoulder and steered him towards Tony’s landing pad. Nat watched Wade with icy silence. Darcy did not.

“Why the fuck would you do that, Wade?”

“Do what?”

“Provoke him like that! He said not to use the name, so you don’t, it’s that simple!”

“But he’s mean! Do you have any idea how many times that guy’s tried to kill me?”

“I don’t need to. You take attempted murders as foreplay! I have never seen Jack behave that way towards another person. He and Nat tried to kill each other, and they can still be cordial!”

“But-“ Darcy held up a hand to stop him.

“No, Deadpool! Bad Deadpool! I was just getting him to relax and you had to stir shit up! I don’t expect you two to be all hugs and kisses what with your history, but I did expect you to show a modicum of respect. He’s my friend, Wade! He’s been through enough without you trying to start something with him at a party! You’re baking-banned!” Wade let out an audible gasp along with several other bystanders who had been listening in. “And I swear by Madonna, Beyonce, and Cher, and any other gods you worship that if you go near him again I will tase you until you wet yourself and glue you into that suit!” She stormed away.

“Aww, Darcy nooooo! C’mon, it was just-“ Wade made to follow her but found Natasha blocking his path. “Eek!”

Darcy was seething. She stomped through the party, ignoring everyone, and headed down to Tony’s lab. Nobody messes with my friends, not even my other friends! And nobody gets to bother Jack about stuff he’d clearly rather forget! Not while I’m around! I should have kicked DP in the balls! I should have tased him then and there, but nooooo! It’s a party at the place where you live, why the fuck would you pack your taser? She went over to the corner of the laboratory floor that Tony had proclaimed “girls territory” where she and Jane did their extracurricular science projects. Darcy’s work area was littered with spare electronic pieces, timing devices, and enough sparkly material to start a riot in a kindergarten

She started sorting through her stuff to make the perfect revenge cocktail. Usually, she would use some form of glitter, but Wade would love that. He was not immune to smells though. She didn’t usually go for olfactory warfare, but she did keep some things around. Skunk was obvious. Very basic, but it was a classic for a reason. Hydrogen Sulfide for the simple rotten egg stench. Stinking Corpse Lily extract was very exotic and putrid! Lovely, now how to deliver the stink bomb? Thrown in a balloon? Dumped out of bucket? She considered putting it in a shampoo bottle, having used that method to turn Thor’s hair green after he and Jane had had a particularly big fight, but Wade didn’t have hair to wash and therefore likely no shampoo. Paintball gun was tempting. She could probably bribe Clint into helping her with that delivery system…

He had been having such a good night. Really it was only logical that the universe would come up with something equally nasty to screw it up. He couldn’t stand Deadpool! The man was an unholy mix of carelessness, arrogance, rudeness, and brutality. Few ethics or personal morals guided him, and that was when he was sane, which was rare. Unhinged. Dangerous. And that man stood there teasing Darcy like they were old pals! He had called Jack by that name and asked about his death, his failure. It was deeply ironic that Deadpool was one of the few people that could understand being an undead catastrophic fuckup like Jack, but all Jack wanted to do is put him in a lead coffin and drop him into the Mariana Trench. Deadpool had used his old codename in front of Darcy. She was smart and connected. She could find Agent Whiskey of Statesmen. She could learn all about his mistakes, his death, and why he left the agency. She could learn about his past and dump his worthless ass so fast it would make his head spin.

Romanoff had intervened before he could do anything stupid like stabbing Deadpool in the eye while Darcy stood between them. It wasn’t like that would kill the cockroach, but it would have made Jack feel a whole lot better. Clint had come and dragged him away and Jack had never been more grateful for the archer’s friendship. He had no doubt that Clint and Romanoff knew exactly who and what he was, but they didn’t judge him for it, they were too similar. He didn’t have to hide how pissed off and murderous the encounter with Deadpool had made him, Clint just got him clear.

Now they stood outside on Stark’s private landing pad while Jack tried to get himself back under control. He did his best to control his breathing, unwind the tension that suffused his muscles, and clear his mind. He was only partially successful. He gripped the railings so hard that his knuckles went white. His mouth was still caught up in a snarl. It was good while it lasted, but now it’s probably only a matter of days until it’s over. You drew a knife on her buddy while she was standing right there! She could have been hurt, you asshole! Why would she stay with a dumbass screwup like you?

He exhaled forcefully and leaned over the railing, feeling like he was going to be sick. Maybe he should just pitch himself over the side right now, end it while he still had friends, people who respected him, and a woman who made him cookies. He dragged a hand through his hair, pulling on it hard enough to make his eyes water. When all was said and done, it wasn’t much of a life he’d scraped together after leaving Statesmen. A raggedy patchwork that Deadpool had just set on fire. His fingers scraped over his scalp and he remembered different fingers in their place, slim ones often painted in wild colors. What he wouldn’t give to have Darcy there now with her clever fingers, soft curves, and wicked sense of humor. He scrubbed his hands over his face. He’d left her in there with that bastard!

“She okay?” he asked Clint, his voice hoarse from pent-up emotion.

“She’s safe. Nat won’t let Deadpool get out of hand, and there are at a least a dozen superheroes and mutants in that room that consider Darcy a friend. Darcy’s fine, you’re not. What happened back there?”

“Deadpool,” Jack growled. “My old agency has tried to deal with him a number of times. The man’s a walking threat to national security.”

“Yeah, but so are we.”

“He’s also a gigantic dickhead.”

“Point. So you two know each other from before you came to SHIELD.” Clint didn’t phrase it like a question, but Jack answered it anyways.

“Yeah. He knows… who I was… how I got here. He was throwing it in my face in front of her like it was all some big joke.” Clint hissed through his teeth.

“Ouch. Big skeletons in the closet?”

“Yeah, mine,” Jack snarked.

“Huh?” Jack raised an eyebrow. He had assumed Widow would tell her partner about him, but she may have omitted some details, lord only knew why. You never saw all the strands of the Widow’s web until you were caught squarely in the middle. He may as well tell Clint now. What did he really have to lose.

“I fucked up on a mission and got myself taken out. Nearly got a whole bunch of civies killed too. They revived me later, but no one at my agency trusted me afterwards. They iced me out, so I left.” Clint leaned against the railing beside him in silence for several minutes, mulling it over.

“Taken out as in dead?”

“Yup. Headshot.” Jack rubbed at the place in his skull that the bullet had pierced, the one that lit up like a Christmas tree on any medical scan. Clint gave a low whistle.

“And they just… brought you back? Just like that?”

“They have some medical technology, that can basically freeze your brain if it’s applied quickly enough, then they can repair the damage. It takes a while though. I was gone for months.”

“And when you got back your coworkers were dicks about it?” Jack glared at the archer’s flippant tone.

“No. They reacted sensibly to a man they considered a traitor.”

“Surely the agency cleared you? Why else would they bring you back?”

“The circumstances were muddy enough that they could never be sure; interagency conflicts, compromised agents in the field, and possible human error. Officially, I was cleared, but no one ever trusted me again. They believed that I screwed up on purpose.”

“Did you?” Clint’s voice was cool and dispassionate.

“No,” Jack sighed. “I thought about it for a second, but it would have killed so many people, one of them being my best friend. He’s an idiot who gets himself into all kinds of trouble, but I didn’t want him to die. Even if I could have justified letting all those people die, I never would have been able to look myself in the face if I killed him too.”

“Okay then, that’s good enough for me. It’ll be good enough for Darcy too, if you were wondering.” Jack flinched.

“No, it’s not! Even if I didn’t mean to do it, it still happened! The only reason those people aren’t dead is the rest of the team managed to salvage the situation!”

“So what? You think no one else has ever made a big mistake that cost people their lives? Ask Tony about how his family legacy became about weapons and warfare and their tech fell into the wrong hands. Ask Bruce about all the times he hasn’t been able to stop from going Hulk and innocent people became collateral damage.” Clint got up on Jack’s face. “Ask me about when Loki highjacked my brain and turned me loose on the people I care about, ‘cause I’m still not over that! I beat myself up about my failures all the time, and so do the others, but at least we keep going!”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean,” Jack barked. Clint pushed him.

“You benched yourself! I can see you doing it right now! You assume that if Darcy hears all this shit about your past that she won’t want anything to do with you, so instead of talking to her about it, here you are, telling yourself that it’s over! I think you did it with your work too. You told yourself that you couldn’t be trusted and withdrew from everyone that could have told you otherwise. You got transferred to SHIELD and kept yourself closed off so that no one would approach you or rely on you here either. And you haven’t shown them your real abilities, just going through the motions. Nat told me how good you are. You should be a specialist agent, but you’re not. You benched yourself!”

Jack shoved him back with a roar, “What the hell do you know!” Clint grabbed the front of his shirt.

“Everything, asshole! We all fuck up and people die! It happens and it’s horrible, but then we get back up so that we can save them the next time! But you never got back up, you’ve just been drifting along, waiting until you run into something bad enough to kill you again and put you in the ground!”

A high-pitched whine filled Jack’s ears. Dead man walking, that’s what he was. A weapon to be used, that had been his reason to keep living. If he was used to help keep others safe, then it was okay for him to still be alive. Clint was right. He had been letting himself drift, doing the bare minimum when he was capable of doing so much more, being so much more. Agent Whiskey was dead. He had never come back, but Jack was still here and doing a pretty lousy job.

You don’t make peanut butter cookies for a weapon.

Darcy had never treated him as a weapon, never seen him as an expendable piece of machinery. Every time she touched him, he remembered that he was a living, breathing human being. She deserved more from him than the bare minimum. So did Clint. So did Agent Cole and his other coworkers and tentative friends. So did the world. He could do better. He needed to.

He broke Clint’s hold and braced his hands on his knees, truly feeling like he might throw up this time.

I am not a weapon. I am a person. A person who made a mistake. I came back, but not everyone gets that chance, so I have to get back up and keep going.

He choked and gasped for air, remembering the pain of a bullet piercing his skull, remembering the horrible blackness that he had fallen into, and the disorientation of losing time. He squeezed his legs until he was certain he would have bruises, forcing himself back into the present. You’re not there, he told himself. You’re not there. You’re on the roof of the Avenger’s tower with Clint in New York City. The buzzing sound that had been filling his ears was slowly fading. He could feel the chill air of the autumn wind chafing against his cheeks, turning them red. He could taste the faint remains of the vinegar from the pickles and the hops from his beer. He remembered Darcy’s hands in his hair and her lips pressed to his mouth.

“Clint?” His voice shook and rasped in his throat like sandpaper.

“Yeah bud?”

“I think I’m a little fucked up.”

“Not surprising. I don’t care what kind of tech or magic they used, a guy gets his brain scrambled and it’s bound to fuck him up a little.” Jack chuffed.

“Does it make it better or worse if I tell you the person who put a bullet in my brain was a friend?”

“It explains a lot about you. Who am I to judge about better or worse though?”

“I dunno, you sounded pretty wise a minute ago.”

“If she were here, Nat would tell you that it happens about once a year.” Jack gave him another hoarse chuckle.

“Real smart lady, that Widow, always said so.” He straightened slowly, feeling achy and exhausted.

“What’cha gonna do now, Cowboy?”

“I reckon I have to go back in there and find Darcy and apologize for the scene.”

“Yeah? Anything else?” Jack licked his lip and raised and eyebrow.

“I reckon we might get up to a few other things tonight that a gentleman doesn’t talk about.” Clint punched his shoulder.

“Ugh! Quit it, she’s one of my closest friends, man! I meant about being benched!”

“You may have a few things right,” Jack raised a hand. “But I still say my friends and coworkers weren’t assholes. They had a right to their feelings and suspicions. As for the rest of it… yeah, it’s probably time I took myself off the bench.” Clint whistled obnoxiously and did a slow clap.

“Jack Daniels, putting on the big boy pants!”

“Watch it, Birdy,” Jack growled. He made a check of his condition and his knives and walked back into the party.

Darcy was lost in thought, mulling over gas canisters and aerosols, when someone came into the lab. Darcy ignored them in favor of calculating how many parts per million different delivery methods would get her. She had vengeance to plot!

Vengeance was temporarily forgotten as the person came up behind her and wrapped their arms around her middle. She smelled Jack’s faintly spicy aftershave and relaxed instantly, leaning back against his sturdy chest.

“What’re you working on?” He murmured.

“A stink bomb. Glitter doesn’t annoy Wade enough.”

“What?”

“I’m thinking I’ll rig an aerosol canister in the elevator and hope he goes down alone. If he doesn’t, I’ll have to revert to my paint ball delivery systems, which relies on bribing Clint,” she explained.

“Err… why are you hitting Deadpool with a stink bomb?” Darcy jerked her head up and swiveled to face him.

“Because he had no right to talk to you like that! He upset you!” Her mouth was a thin slash. “I already baking banned him, but this calls for something really nasty.” Jack’s eyes went wide.

“You’re declaring war on Deadpool… because of me?”

“Obviously!” Darcy gave him a quick peck on the lips. “No one gets to treat you that way, Jack, not in front of me.” Jack was silent, mouth caught slightly open. Darcy examined him closely. He looked tired, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth were deeper, and his eyes were dark and shiny. She could feel a faint chill radiating off him even through her sweater. He’d clearly spent too much time out on the roof and was frozen clean through. Well, he came to the right girl! I’ll gladly warm him up. Although, he might not be in the mood after that bit of bullshit. Maybe he just came to tell me he’s heading home for the night.

Jack’s lips met hers and she sighed in surprised delight. His lips were cold, but his tongue was hot as it invaded her mouth, sliding over hers in wet abandon. Darcy put her hands to his chest and smoothed them along the cooled flannel. Jack pressed her closer to him and set his own hands to roaming her back and sides even as he devoured her. He made a desperate, greedy sound as he slanted his mouth over hers in a new angle. The sound hit Darcy in the gut and traveled lower. She wanted him to make the sound again, repeatedly. Even tired and frozen, Jack wanted her, and the knowledge lit her up inside. She kissed him just fervently, working to match the frenetic pace of his lips and tongue. He jerked her closer, urging her to wrap her arms around his neck and shoulders so that they were pressed as tightly as possible. Darcy moved to her tiptoes to slide her body against his and get a fresh angle on the kiss. Jack shocked her by picking her up and placing her butt on the edge of the workbench. Darcy didn’t hesitate to wrap her legs about his hips. She moaned when she felt the bulge in his jeans connected with the crotch of her leggings.

It seemed to startle Jack somehow and he pulled back. Darcy followed his lips, unwilling to let him go. He kissed her again in a few short machine-gun bursts and stopped her from following him again with his thumb against her chin. Darcy’s eyes slid open to find Jack watching her. Their breath fell in pants in the otherwise silent space. The tension had gone out of his face, and his cheeks were flushed, but Darcy was nowhere near satisfied. She rubbed her thumb against his neck, gently chafing the skin, and slid up to cup his cold-reddened ear. Jack sighed and gave her a quick kiss, mirroring her peck from earlier.

“You’d really do it, wouldn’t you? Shoot Deadpool with stink pellets or boobytrap the elevator.”

“Of course,” she chided him. “I’d do a hell of a lot more than that to anyone who bothered you.” Jack’s eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against hers.

“So you aren’t mad I caused a scene and drew a knife on one of your friends?”

“Puh-lease! If I got mad every time my friends drew knives on each other I’d give myself an aneurism.” She nuzzled his nose. “Not gonna lie, that really wasn’t on my list of activities for tonight though.”

“I am sorry. If I knew Deadpool was going to be here I wouldn’t have come.”

Darcy bit her lip. She wanted to ask so many questions, but who knew if Jack would answer any. She didn’t want to waste time asking about his history with DP, clearly he and Jack had been on opposing sides a few times, which made sense as Wade was a mercenary. She desperately wanted to ask what organization Jack had been with at the time, and if his codename had really been Agent Whiskey, but those seemed less important. She moved her fingers into the short hair at the back of Jack’s neck and began to work her way up, massaging as she went. Jack groaned and tilted his head back into her grip. It sent a shiver through her, seeing Jack vulnerable and craving her touch. She traced her lips over the exposed column of his throat, and he groaned again. She could feel the vibrations against her lips.

“You don’t have to answer me, if you don’t want to or just can’t,” she told him. “But I was wondering about why Deadpool thought you were dead?” He heaved a sigh and slowly pulled his head upright, eyes open and regarding her.

“It’s no big secret; I was dead for a while.” Darcy’s fingers froze.

“A while being like a few minutes?”

“More like a few months.” What? What? Whaaaaat? What the absolute fuck?

“I’m going to need a bit more detail on that, Jack,” Darcy managed to choke out.

“I took a bullet to the head while on a mission. My agency had some technology that can be used in very specific instances to revive people from situations like that, but the process takes months as they have regrow damaged portions of the brain.”

A bullet. To his brain. Jack. Dead. Darcy drew on years of dealing with crazy Avengers shit to try to keep from panicking. I don’t like that, she whimpered internally. I don’t like that at all! And I am going to freak out and probably cry about the horrible idea of Jack with his head cracked open the second he isn’t standing in front of me giving me that damned neutral Agent face!

 She sucked in a harsh breath, biting back a mélange of screams and sarcastic comments. None of that would be helpful right now. She distracted herself by scrutinizing every inch of Jack’s face, looking for any sign of a bullet wound scar. He had some small scars here and there, but nothing major.

“It was here.” He tapped the center of his forehead where she had noticed a small, dimpled scar before. Her fingers followed his before she could stop them. It felt like any other scarred patch of skin and certainly gave no indication that it was the result of a life-ending wound. But he’s here now. That’s what matters.

She cupped his face and pressed a slow, soft kiss to his lips. Jack’s eyes flickered shut for a moment.

“There’s more. More I outght’a tell you,” he forced out. Darcy shook her head gently, squeezing her eyes shut. Any other night she’d be thrilled that Jack wanted to tell her things about his past, but this one piece of the puzzle made her feel like someone had stabbed her with an icicle, freezing and piercing all at once. She kissed him again. Despite her best efforts her voice came out wobbly when she spoke again.

“No. I told you before that you didn’t have to tell me anything you didn’t want to. If you decide you want to share something with me I’ll be here to listen but-“ An unstoppable tear leaked out of the corner of her eye.

“Sweetheart? Are you cryin’?” He caught the tear with his index finger looking gob smacked. So much for remaining calm.

“Yes, Jack! That’s what happens when I hear that someone I care about was almost- not here!”

“You really care that much? About me? You’d cry if I was gone?” Darcy kissed his shocked face so hard he rocked backwards a little before regaining his balance.

“Yes, you stupid Cowboy! That’s what I just-“ He returned her kiss, bracing his hands on the steel worktop. Darcy fiercely intertwined herself with him as much as she could, holding him so tightly there was no way for him to leave, burying her tongue in his mouth so that it was impossible to tell where he ended and she began. She buried a tiny sob in his heat, keening for Jack who had at one point no longer been alive. Small wonder the man was a bundle of weird issues wrapped in a delicious package! She knotted her hand into the fabric of his shirt and speared the other through his hair. Jack groaned and slid his lips over her cheek, pausing when he came to the wet trail leading to the corner of her eye. His tongue flicked out, seeking the salt. He shuddered and went very still.

“No one’s bothered to cry for me in a long time.” He continued even as Darcy tried to speak. “No one’s sworn revenge via stink bomb or made cookies for me either.” He faltered and kissed her temple. “You… I… I just… really like being around you is all.” Warmth spilled through her veins. She nuzzled the closest patch of skin she could reach.

“Good. Wanna come to my apartment and be around me even more?” As far as pickup lines went, she had to admit it wasn’t her finest, but it worked. Jack chuckled.

“Hell yeah.”

Chapter Text

Darcy pulled him into the stairs, making him laugh.

“I’m beginning to suspect you have a thing for dingy old stairwells, Darlin’.”

“I do not! Or,” she paused as she dragged him down a few stairs. “Maybe I do if you’re in them with me.” He chuckled and caught up to her easily on a landing. Instead of proceeding down he looped an arm around her middle and pulled her back against him in an embrace.

“Mm. If you don’t cut that out, we’ll never make to my place,” she murmured as he put his lips to her neck. Her free hand slid up to cup the back of his head.

“Can’t help it. Missed you,” Jack muttered into her skin. He didn’t want to hold back anymore. When he felt things like this, he wanted to tell her about them. He knew now that she would listen. Darcy pressed little kisses to the side of his head and ear. He turned to meet her mouth and the kiss was sweet and slow. “There,” he sighed as he straightened. “Now we can get goin’.”

“Now I think you’re the one with a thing for stairs.”

“Cheeky.” He gave her a light pat on the ass to get her moving again. It had the added benefit of making her squeak and jump. Cute. Too fuckin’ cute.

Two flights down and Darcy brought them out into a hallway lined with doors. They had little signs on them. Jack saw ‘Steve’ and ‘Bruce’ before they came to one that said ‘Darcy’. She touched the handle that had an embedded fingerprint scanner and the door slid open. Jack surveyed the space. It was set up like a small one bedroom apartment with a kitchenette. Darcy had layered her living room in textures with thick rugs, fuzzy blankets on the worn couch, and intricate tapestries hung on the walls. Tiny strands of lights gave off a soft glow that made the space more cheerful. A door to the side led into a large bathroom. She had a small table by the kitchen that was her dining table/desk/crafting area with a laptop and a halfway finished knitting project sitting atop it.

He looked down at her to find her watching him nervously.

“Sorry, it’s a little cluttered.” She moved into the room and began trying to shove pillows and blankets into a basket.  “Uh, can I get you something to drink?” Jack grinned and plopped himself onto the couch. It was threadbare and clearly old, but extremely comfy. Darcy was still trying to make her furnishings disappear when Jack grabbed her wrist and tugged her down on top of him. She squeaked again, but this time it turned into a soft sigh as Jack rearranged her to lie fully on top of him. It felt good, all of her curves and weight pressing into him. It was what he had been wanting all night. He felt more tension drain from his muscles.

“I like it. It’s very you, all soft and warm.” He stroked his hands up and down her back, running fingers along the cables of her sweater. She tucked her head under his chin.

“You don’t think it’s strange? I mean, I am a weirdo living in her friend’s building.”

“Didn’t say it wasn’t a little unusual,” he teased. “But I like the idea of you living here, rather than whatever cupboard you could afford on your own in a bad neighborhood. And you’ve got the Avengers on call as the neighborhood watch here.” Darcy giggled and he felt her breath across his skin. He played with the hem of her sweater, raising it inch by inch.

He had felt so desperate in the lab, needing to hold her, kiss her. Now he had gone past desperate. That was why he had put her on top on him, so she could control the tone and pace of things. If it were up to him, they would already be a few orgasms in and missing some of their clothing before they had even gotten back to her apartment, but the random chance of running into one of her friends in the hall had been too high to risk and now she seemed nervous. All the heady emotion from before urged him to go wild, to let go, and fuck them both into an exhausted but sated coma. But he put a leash on it, scolding himself for being so damn greedy and needy.

His fingers danced across the skin of her lower back and she shuddered. Darcy pulled herself up so that she hovered over him, moving her lips across his jawbone and cheek.

“This okay?” she whispered. “You good?” He growled and grabbed her ass, pulling her against him so that she could feel just how good he was feeling.

“Yeah, Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure this is fuckin’ heaven, why wouldn’t I be good?”

“Just checking.” She kissed the bridge of his nose. “Things were tense earlier. I wasn’t sure if being pinned down like this might be a trigger for you.”

“Oh.” Jack blinked and stared up at Darcy. She knew, of course she did because his girl was smart as hell. He remembered when he had been hurt and she forced him to go to the medbay, how careful she had been to move slowly and let him see everything she was doing. He hadn’t picked up on it then. He also remembered when he had been sparring and she stopped him to make him drink water, how she had kept talking to him about silly things in a calm voice until he had come out of it. She knew, knew he was fucked up before they ever started this, and she still wanted him. He arched his hips into hers, making them both moan at the sensation.

“So good to me,” he rasped. “Such a fuckin’ Sweetheart.” He kissed her filthily, tongues writhing together across open mouths. She gasped and ground her hips down. “That’s right, Honey, you take what you want from me. Don’t have to worry about me, I’m enjoyin’ every second of this.” He worked to pull her sweater over her head. Darcy helped him eagerly and chucked it over the back of the couch. Jack’s hands flew back to her and encountered silk. It made him stop and look. She wore a pretty deep green camisole edged with lace. It slipped across her skin like water. He petted it, dragging it across the skin of her belly, more lovely softness. She chuckled at his fascination.

“Like it?” she purred. He groaned an ascent. Her nipples were peaked and he raised his hands to cup her breasts. She gasped.

“Love it,” he told her as he began to stroke and tweak. “So beautiful, Darlin’.” Their breath sped up as Darcy moved her hips against him. Her fingers splayed over his chest in a caress, occasionally undoing a button, so slow, too slow. He got impatient. He wanted her hands on him now. He was beginning to feel the same all-consuming need he had felt in the lab that he had so carefully leashed. Now they were truly alone and he needed her so badly his skin ached.

Jack sat up and wrenched his shirt apart, a few buttons that Darcy hadn’t gotten to breaking free and scattering into the lush carpet. Her hands moved greedily over his skin, catching his desperation and returning it. He pressed them body to body so that he could feel that pretty silk against his burning flesh. Darcy moaned and rubbed herself up and down his torso, pebbled nipples dragging against him and enhancing her own pleasure.

Adfahkfaklskjfghsklgjn. Darcy’s brain had exploded when Jack had ripped apart his own shirt. It was definitely a hot move straight out of porno, but for a guy who was usually so well attired and careful of his clothing it was proof of just how far gone he was. He needs this so badly. When he had kissed her in the lab and lifted her up onto the workbench Darcy had felt the raw edge of his desire, but he had pulled them up short, frustrating the hell out of her. They had had a very necessary conversation, and there was probably way more that needed to be said between them, but it didn’t all need to happen tonight, when Darcy’s blood had been burning since he kissed her in the coat closet. Seeing him like this, so emotional and discomposed, was a huge turn on for her. Her panties had been uncomfortably wet for some time now and Jack’s dirty talk had brought her right to the edge.

She rubbed herself against him in a frenzy. Jack held her close, letting her grind on him like a stripper pole, playing with her tits and ass. His hand darted down the back of her leggings, into the cleft of her butt, just brushing against where she needed him most. Darcy’s hips faltered, torn between grinding down against his cock or back into his fingers, trying to chase every sensation. Jack seized her leg and widened her stance with one hand while the other rubbed her pussy, playing her like fiddle. Darcy whimpered against Jack’s mouth as he kissed her.

“Christ, Sweetheart, you’re soaked. Need me that badly, huh?” His voice was low and guttural and it sent sparks straight to her aching cunt. “God, that’s so hot, Darcy.” He sent a finger spearing up inside her, rubbing against raw nerves. Darcy threw her head back and wailed. “That’s right, Darlin’, c’mon!” Darcy came violently, hips pumping to impale herself again and again on Jack’s thick fingers as he helped her chase her high. “Good girl,” he told her. “So pretty ‘n wet.” He bit her bottom lip. Darcy shuddered and opened her eyes to find his dark ones staring at her in fascination. It made her hot again to think of him watching her come with such utter appreciation.

Her hands skated down his torso to tug at his belt. “S’matter, Sweetheart?” he chuckled. “My fingers ain’t enough? You need my cock too?” Darcy’s fumbling fingers got his belt undone and she began to work it free of its loops.

“Uh hmm,” she mumbled breathlessly. She kissed at his jaw and neck. “Need you, Cowboy.” He shivered and pressed the tent of his pants into her hands.

“Go on then, take what you want, I’m all yours.” His voice was raspy and felt like a physical touch. His hands began playing with her tits again, massaging them, dragging the silk against her skin. He was very distracting, but Darcy managed to unzip him and pull his cock free. Jack gasped when her hands closed around him, she barely had time for a few pumps before he was pitching them both upwards. “Pants off now,” he growled. Darcy shakily stood and started to pull her leggings and underwear down her legs, intending to make it a tease, but Jack’s control was shot. He stood up behind her and bent her over to grip the back of the couch and slipped inside her without warning.

Darcy gasped at the sudden fullness. Jack’s swiftness had been just short of violent. She felt herself grow wetter at the idea of Jack’s usual manners slipping away into urgency. She braced herself and wriggled against him.

“Yeeees,” she moaned. “Yes, Jack, ple-“ His hips snapped forward and her whine cut off as he began to pound against her. His hands held her hips in an iron grasp, holding her still as he fucked her. Darcy began to babble as sensations swamped her. “Yes! Gods, yeah! Oh, mooooore! Ah! Ah!” His cock filled her perfectly, rubbing every nerve, tip hitting her g-spot with Jack’s trademark precision, the slap of their skin meeting making a symphony with the sloppy sounds of Darcy’s wet pussy. Jack also lost control of his tongue, his voice going so low and choked she could barely hear him over her own keening.

“Fuck, yeah Darlin’. You like it like this? Shit, Sweetheart, you’re so tight I’m gonna come any second. Feel so fuckin’ good wrapped around my cock. Perfect. Gorgeous. So fuckin’ gorgeous I can’t stand it. Wanted to do this all night!”

“Uh! Jaaaaack!” Darcy couldn’t do anything but hold on for dear life as he fucked her into oblivion, every thrust driving her higher and higher until she felt like she was going to burst. One of Jack’s hands slid around her stomach, holding her upright as she lost control of her legs, the other dipped down to swipe against her clit. Darcy came again in a sudden explosion, her vision fuzzing out and her own screams sounding very far away. But Jack didn’t stop, still riding her, drawing out her orgasm until she wasn’t sure if it was the same one of if she was coming again. Finally he tensed, hips loosing their rhythm in a sudden final burst of activity before he also came with a shout.

Darcy lost track of time for several minutes as they stood there panting, wetness trickling down their thighs. She wasn’t sure how she has still mostly upright. Her hands and arms had lost their strength. She realized that Jack was completely supporting her weight with his hands, holding her impaled on his cock. His hands were still, clamped on her stomach and pussy, with no apparent effort. She shuddered and moaned at the thought, feeling her inner muscles clench again around Jack’s softening cock.

“Mmm. Still with me, Darlin’?” He pulled her torso upright, plastering her to his chest. Darcy’s head flopped against his shoulder limply. One hand cupped her cunt and stroked at the place where he entered her while the other cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger. She moaned wordlessly and felt renewed heat writhe through her belly. He pressed kisses to her hair, forehead, and cheek before settling in to nibble at her ear. “Yeah? Feelin’ good?” She nodded as she hung limply in his arms. Her hands lay draped over his arm and she didn’t know if she meant to urge him on or plead with him to stop. It did feel good. It all felt so good she didn’t know if she could take anymore. Jack’s fingers tugged her camisole and bra down to bare one breast and flicked her nipple gently. Darcy arched into his touch, cooing. “I think you can take a little more, can’t you, Sweetheart? I promise I’ll be gentler this time,” he snickered self-deprecation. “Got a little caried away there, didn’t mean to be so rough on you.” Darcy shook her head as he eased himself out of her and sat on the couch with her spread across his lap.

“Felt good,” she whispered hoarsely. “Felt amazing.” She writhed as his fingers rewarded her by swirling around her clit.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, kissing her neck. “Tough as fuck.” He freed her other breast and played with both at once, light caresses that contrasted with his earlier intensity. He nuzzled and mouthed at her skin, licking at the sweat that ran down her neck, teasing oversensitive skin with his moustache. Darcy sat sprawled against him, unable to move from exhausted pleasure. Minutes dripped by honey-slow. She could still feel the cum and sweat dripping from her thighs. Her cunt began to pulse again from Jack’s teasing but felt so empty. Darcy groaned and moved her hand to cup herself.

“Poor thing feeling a bit neglected?” Jack bit and sucked at her neck. “Play with yourself. You know how much I like seeing you get riled up.” Darcy shivered as she remembered lying in his bed, showing him just how to touch her. Her own fingers were so much smaller and softer than his. She craved the feel of his thick, calloused fingers rubbing against her slicked skin.

“Jack,” she whined. “I want you!” He cursed softly. His hands worked to pull off her leggings at last and then he whipped her camisole and bra over her head. His fingers and mouth moved over her with agonizing slowness, tracing across erogenous zone after erogenous zone. She whined again.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed. He laid down on the couch and patted her thigh. “Face me, Darlin’.” Darcy carefully rearranged herself to straddle him again, returning to their first position on the couch. His hands clasped her thighs and one of his thumbs went rogue to brush her cunt. Darcy jerked at the sensation, sighing in relief. She grabbed his hand and pressed it harder against herself. Jack sucked in a breath and obeyed, stroking through her folds. “Mmhm. Wet again. You’re like a fuckin’ dream, Darcy.” She shuddered as his other hand began toying with her breasts again. Her own fingers flexed against the bare skin of his abdomen and she also began to stroke and play, searching out sensitive spots. She bent down and flicked her tongue against his nipple. He moaned and gripped the back of her head, twisting her hair around his fingers, and tugging gently. Darcy kissed and nibbled over to his other nipple. His skin was warm and salty, and he smelled of cedar, sex, and musk.

He edged her onwards so slowly this time that she barely recognized that she was about to come. He was hard again so she sat back and slipped him inside her without thought. Jack choked and squeezed her hip hard before relaxing.

“Good girl,” he panted. “Takin’ me so easy, like I belong right there.” She moaned and rocked a little. “Go ahead, move just the way you wanna.” She lifted and lowered her hips slowing, torturing them both with the pace. She watched beads of sweat drip from Jack’s temples and neck. She could see him shaking with the effort of keeping still. She scraped a hand through his damp hair and he groaned softly.

“Jack, I wanna make you feel good too,” she panted. She reached behind and down, feeling for where they joined, and stroked at his skin. Muscles in his jaw and neck tensed. His eyes burned into hers. He licked his lip.

“Kiss me.” Darcy couldn’t tell if it was an order or a request, but she still did it happily. He cupped her ass, helping her keep the motion going, moving with agonizing slowness. Darcy’s orgasm this time was soft and quiet, less overwhelming. She slipped her tongue into Jack’s mouth with a sigh and kept her hips moving as her inner muscles clenched. Jack groaned and shook as he came. All movement subsided as Darcy felt herself go boneless, plastered to the front of Jack’s chest. He sighed and his fingers traced over the bumps of her spine.

“Shit,” she sighed. “Sorry, I’m heavy, I’ll move in a second.” He tensed, both arms coming around her to pin her down.

“Don’t you dare, Darlin’. This is the best I’ve felt in days.”

“Oh.” She exhaled slowly, letting her muscles unwind all over again. “Okay.” She planted a little kiss on the edge of his collarbone. His skin was warm again after they had worked off the chill of the rooftop. “But you do have to tell me when you want me to move, Jack, otherwise I’ll just stay here for hours.” He huffed, hands turning light and soft again in their movements.

“S’not gonna happen. I damn well don’t want you to go anywhere. I’ve been wantin’ to do this since Wednesday so there’s no way I’m getting up either.” Darcy snorted at him and raised her head to peck at his chin.

“Oh you mean the day I had a huge breakdown and you saw me with makeup and snot smeared all over my face? Sure, that’s a turn on.” Jack shifted and got a pillow tucked under his head so that he could easily look down at her.

“You and I remember that whole day differently; I saw a gorgeous woman take a full agent down. You’re damn right that’s a turn on. As for the whole snot thing, I’ve seen worse. All I could think about was that we were at work and you were upset, two very excellent reasons not to beg you to fuck me right there on the floor, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want it.” He brushed a tendril of hair out of her face as Darcy stared at him. “I also really wanted to just pick you and hold you. Didn’t really get to do either one until now.” Darcy felt her cheeks burn crimson. Her insides did cartwheels.

“You mean all that?” Jack frowned at her question.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” She kissed him swiftly. Then again, and again. Sweet, sliding kisses that made Jack moan softly.

“Darcy, you keep going like that and we’re gonna need another round. I thought you didn’t want to move!” She kissed him more.

“Tough luck, Cowboy, that was before you said the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“If you—think that was—sweet—we may need to—find you a dictionary!” Darcy barely let him mumble past her kisses. “I ain’t sweet!” She giggled at his protest, which she noticed was not accompanied by any physical attempts to evade her.

“Yes—you—are! You, Jack Daniels, are sexy, funny, and very sweet to me!” She did her best to plant kisses on every inch of his adorable face while he wriggled ineffectually. They both knew damn well that he could escape, he just didn’t want to. “Cute too.” She told him, kissing the corner of his mouth. He cupped her cheeks and held her still for a lingering kiss that made the air sizzle. Darcy shivered.

Jack resurfaced long enough to murmur, “Cold, Darlin’?” He chivalrously ran his hands up and down her body to warm her, taking plenty of time to squeeze her ass.

“Little bit, yeah. Some of us aren’t still wearing most of our clothes.” Jack’s eyebrow quirked up and he smirked.

“Well would you look at that, I am a tad overdressed.” Darcy giggled and pushed his flannel shirt off his shoulder.

“This is a private party with a very specific dress code,” she mocked him.

“My apologies, Ma’am. I’ll remedy that straight away.” He sat up and Darcy leaned back to appreciate the flex of his stomach muscles. She put out a hand to feel them under her fingertips. He leaned into her, encouraging the touch, as he slid off his shirt. “Now we come to the real problem, how am I supposed to take off my pants if you’re in my lap?”

“Ugh, I’m not gonna like the answer,” Darcy pouted even as she moved to stand up. Jack chuckled and kissed at her hip bone before standing and taking off the rest of his clothes.

“C’mere.” He grabbed one of the fuzzy blankets Darcy had been trying to hide and wrapped it around them both. They settled back onto the couch with a mutual sigh, this time with Darcy on the bottom. Jack lay between her things, slightly propped on one arm, tucking his head into her neck. Darcy grinned. The new arrangement was warmer, involved fewer clothes, and left Jack in the perfect position to have his hair played with. She scratched her nail gently against his scalp. She felt Jack melt like a purring cat.

“Love it when you do that, Sweetheart.”

“Thought so. Good to know for sure though.” His free hand slid over her ribs, smoothing the skin with his thumb.

“I thought I told you before, I like every way you touch me.” Darcy slid and adjusted so that his head was pillowed on her chest and she was holding him. He’s being very open tonight. And he didn’t even flinch when Deadpool called him my boyfriend, though I suppose there were more significant things being said, but still! Maybe the others were right, and it’s not that he doesn’t want to be with me, it’s that he’s not sure about himself. Well, I guess I’ll just have to keep reminding him how awesome he is and how much I like him too, though I have no idea how he could have missed that the way I’ve been chasing after him.

“Careful Jack, you’re giving me ideas about pinching your butt in public.” He snorted and gave her side a gentle pinch. “You think I won’t? Boy, let me tell you I have been wanting to do just that for months!”

“That’s the part of my anatomy you’ve been day dreamin’ about?” He enquired incredulously.

“What, it’s a cute butt that happens to look awesome in both suits and jeans!”

“A woman who wants me for my ass, that’s a new one!” he laughed.

“Nope,” she replied cheerily, kissing the top of his head. “It just happens to be attached to you is all. No, what really started the whole thing was your frown.” He lifted his head to give her a confused look. She hugged him back to her chest. “Hush you! Yes, it was the frowny face that got me. You see, once upon a time this cowboy came into R & D with a bee in his bonnet about getting his guns back and he was scaring the poor little scientists. So I get ready to deal with a huge asshole, and instead I get this cranky but polite agent who was having a bit of weapon-separation anxiety. I kept thinking, ‘I bet this cranky cowboy actually looks really cute when he smiles’, and then all I could think about every time I saw you was knocking your hat off, ruffling you up, and making out with your face until you were grinning like a loon.” Partway through he had picked his head back up and was staring at her again. “And I was right!” She gave him a big, smacking kiss. Jack’s whole face had gone red from his chin to the tips of his ears.

“I – that- you were really thinkin’ about that this whole time?” Darcy grinned as wide as the Cheshire Cat and kissed the bridge of his nose. “Fuck. Fuck, Sweetheart. That’s-“ If Jack blushed any harder he’d turn into a tomato. Darcy was interested to see if she could force some sort of human-plant transformation.

“What’s making you blush so hard, Cowboy?” She asked in a sultry voice. “Can’t be because I kept fantasizing about undoing your tie and leaving lipstick on your collar.” He groaned and buried his face in her neck to kiss and nip at her skin. “Or because of how much I’ve thought about fucking in the SHIELD stairwells? Can’t go in there anymore without getting a little wet, it’s downright Pavlovian.” Jack palmed her breast and roughly flicked her nipple. “Ah!”

“Fucking hell, Sweetheart. You’ve got a filthy brain.” He licked and sucked his way down her chest to nestle between her breasts. His teeth were much gentler with the delicate skin there, but he still nibbled, licked, and sucked with abandon.

Darcy moaned, “It’s your fault! Who wears a suit and a cowboy hat and – hmm- makes it look so hot?!” She felt the burning heat of cock pressing into her thigh as Jack shifted his weight. He hovered over her, using both hands now to play with her tits. Her own hands slid helplessly over the muscles of his back.

“Filthy. Fuckin’. Sweetheart. I think I oughta help you out a little, clean you up, dirty girl.” Darcy shuddered as he held out his tongue and rubbed her nipple over it. She folded her legs around him, suddenly needing the friction again. He began working his way down her body, so slowly Darcy thought she was going to die. He ran his teeth over her hipbone, but just when Darcy though he was going to put his mouth on her cunt he diverted down her thigh, kissing and squeezing at her ample flesh. Her knees ended up folded over his shoulders as he sat up, supporting her with hands under her ass. His eyes had gone dark and hot, though he turned his head to kiss her knee tenderly, and he no longer blushed. He looked hungry. He looked down at her, surveying his handiwork of little red love bites left speckled across her skin, making her blush with intent stare. Then he turned his gaze to her core.

“Feelin’ good, Darlin’?” Darcy made an inarticulate noise. “Thought so,” he chuckled. “This what you meant to have happen when you started tellin’ me all those lovely thoughts?” Darcy could only shake her head. She hadn’t meant to get them both this worked up again, but she should have remembered how much Jack liked dirty talk. Muscles in her lower stomach began to twinge and ache with want.

“Jack,” she panted.

“Hold your horses. We’re not goin’ anywhere, are we? Besides I like seeing you all spread out for me, like a full-course meal.” He licked her skin. “Delicious. I’ll bet every inch of you tastes good. Can I give that a try too, Darlin’ girl?” He shot a meaningful look at her pussy. “I’ll bet it’s soaked again, can I clean it up a little for ya?” Darcy nodded frantically, but Jack only smacked her ass. “Words, Darcy.”

“Yes! Please, Jack!” He smirked at her.

“Good girl. I think I’ll have me a little snack.” Then he bent his head and brushed his mouth against her outer lips, making her gasp and whimper. His hands came up to support her hips and pulled her open. “Mm. Knew it, you are drippin’.” He stuck out his tongue and gently ran it over her core. Darcy moaned at the feeling of slick skin against slick skin. He began to lick her in earnest, making her gasp and cry out. He sucked at her clit and she came close to falling apart. She knotted her fingers into his hair. Jack swirled his tongue against her hole. Her hips spasmed in his hands and he gripped her harder, dimpling the flesh with the force of his fingers.

“Fuck, Darlin’, you are sweet all over.”

“Jack,” she sobbed. “Please!”

“Not yet, not yet. Give me just a little more, Sweetheart. I know you can.” He sucked sloppily at her, brushing his mustache over sensitive nerves, swirling his tongue in lazy, swooping patterns. Darcy could only hold on and babble incoherently. He speared his tongue deep inside her, making her arch and scream. The problem was that he didn’t focus on anything for too long. He keep finding places that made her cry out, play with them for a second, and then find another spot with unflinching accuracy. It kept her riding the edge for ages, far longer than she would ever have bothered with on her own. She felt dizzy from sensation.

Jack must have known she felt close to having a heart attack or passing out or both because he slipped a finger inside her as he sucked hard on her clit. The pressure exploded and Darcy came. It seemed to last forever as her muscles clenched and wrung ever bit of pleasure she could from Jack’s face an fingers. Her fingernails scored the tops of his shoulders and Jack only licked her harder. Finally, the waves subsided and Darcy sagged like a puppet with her strings cut.

Still Jack’s mouth moved over her, lapping at sticky trails. His tongue moved over her hole again, making wet greedy sounds. Darcy whimpered and squirmed a little. Jack’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, mischief in every line of his face. He gave her one last long lick as though tasting an ice cream cone.

“Thank you for the meal, Darcy.” Darcy moaned in a mix of embarrassment and hedonism and threw her hands over her face. That was so intense… I really thought I was going to faint. Holy Mother of Asgard, that was amazing.

“Give me second,” she wheezed, “and I’ll…”

“No need, Darlin’. You look a little tired.” Jack lowered her legs from his shoulders gently to the couch and hovered over her. Darcy peeped through her fingers at him, he wore a handsome smirk and still had Darcy’s pleasure glistening at his lips and moustache. He met her eyes and sat back, beginning to lazily stroke himself. He reached out and ran a finger over her pussy. Darcy groaned and shivered. “Relax,” he returned the hand to his cock. “Just needed to borrow a little slick.” She shivered again as she watched him. His dick was pleasantly average, no weird shape or complaints in the size departments. It’s not the size that counts, it’s how you use it, and gods damn but Jack Daniels uses it well. Her blood began to heat again just from watching the handsome cowboy, muscles rippling under tanned skin and pale scars, silky hair in complete disarray, and big hands jacking himself slowing as his intense brown eyes watched her watching him through half lidded eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want…” she asked breathlessly, not even sure she’d have the energy to follow through on any offer. He chuckled quietly.

“Darlin’, when don’t I want you? But I can take care of this myself quickly enough, especially with you watchin’ me like that.” Darcy smiled and bit her lip.

“I can’t help it, it’s such a good show.”  She tilted her leg until her thigh brushed against the hand fisted around his cock. He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, brushing his slick cock against her inner thigh. “Yeah, Honey, go on. You should get to feel good after all the work you’ve been doing. Gods, Jack, that was really incredible. You’re so good at that it should be illegal.” He shuddered.

“I’m close, Sweetheart,” he choked out. “Can I come on you?”

“Come on, Cowboy, show me what you got,” she murmured. Jack pitched forward until her was leaning over her, cock brushing against the soft flesh of her stomach. He began to thrust slowly, rubbing himself against her.

“Open your eyes, Jack.” She reached down and replaced his hand with her own. Jack’s eyes flew open.

“Fuck.”

“Mm, not right now, Honey, I want to be able to walk in the morning,” she sassed. She spit into her other hand and brought it down to stroke over the soft velvet of his skin.

“Fuck!” His hips sped up until she could barely hold him. He came with a gasp and spilled out over her belly. “Fu-uck.” He sighed in relief. Darcy grinned up at him. They were both a sweaty, sticky mess, and it felt amazing. His eyes look so impossibly warm and happy. “Mm. Thank you, Darlin’.”

Darcy reached behind her and grabbed the box of tissues that sat on the coffee table and began to clean them both up.

“Always happy to help, Jack. Let’s get washed up. I may have to declare this couch a biohazard otherwise.” Jack laughed and did as he was told.

Chapter Text

Jack woke with gentle fingers stroking his arm. He was curled up in Darcy’s bed with his arms wrapped around her. After their activities last night they had showered off and climbed into bed, he in his underwear and Darcy in comfortable cotton pajamas. Darcy’s fingers moved over his arm that was slung around her waist, tracing line of muscles and tendons. Jack smiled and burrowed into her hair.

“Mornin’.” Her fingers didn’t stop moving.

“Hi. Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log. This is a pretty comfy bed, Darcy. It’ll be next to impossible to get up.”

“Well, there’s no rush.” She turned over to face him. “I like having you tucked up in my bed, it’s like having my own personal electric blanket.” She gave him an obvious once over and spread her hand across his chest. “The view’s nice too.”

Jack chuckled, “I aim to please the lady.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly.

“Bullseye then, baby.” They fell into slow, soft, meandering kisses and gentle touches without intent. It was several long minutes before they resurfaced.

“I know you’re a super tough agent trained to withstand all kinds of crazy shit, but I need my morning coffee!”

“And I know better than to deprive you.”

Darcy slid out of bed and padded into the kitchen where she began to make coffee. Jack took another minute in bed to appreciate the calm warmth that had taken root so strongly in his chest. The force of his own feelings had been overwhelming last night, but seeing Darcy had made it better even though she was the cause of many of them. The sex had been by turns explosive, sweet, and filthy. He smirked triumphantly as he recalled just how amazing it had felt. Jack got up and leaned against the doorway to watch Darcy as she swayed to music only she could hear as she watched the coffee drip into the pot. Pretty damn amazing.

They had coffee on the couch and Darcy admitted that she didn’t keep a lot of food in her personal kitchen.

“Best I can do is a protein bar,” she told him. He told her that that would be just fine with him. “But we can do better than fine! The main kitchen is fully stocked. How does eggs and hashbrowns sound?”

“Sounds great, but won’t it be weird that I’m wandering around the Avengers Tower?”

“Mmm… about that. I may have told everyone that we’re involved.”

“May have?”

“Okay, so I did do that. Apparently, some of them had guessed anyways so really I just filled the others in.” Jack considered some of the conversations he had had last night with different Avengers. It did explain a few things.

“Is that why Thor came to save me from getting ‘grilled’ by Stark and Banner?”

“Probably.” Darcy shrugged. “I told them that they weren’t allowed to grill you, but very little will stop Tony when he’s in a gossipy mood.”

“As long as though they know I didn’t just get drunk and pass out on one of the couches during  the party, I suppose it’s fine. You mentioned eggs?”

Jack redressed as best he could, lacking hat and jacket, and a shirt with few buttons. Darcy had laughed herself silly when she saw how many buttons had been ripped off last night. She kept calling him ‘Magic Mike’, whoever the fuck that was. She also offered to sew them back on for him. It was so darn cute and domestic, exactly the type of thing he would have run screaming from five years ago, that he had to stop and kiss her for another couple of minutes.

If Tequila and Ginger could see me now, they’d laugh their asses off.

This morning it didn’t hurt quite so much to think of his old friends. His new life might not be perfect, but it certainly had its advantages. He enjoyed pondering those advantages as Darcy led him to the elevator. Advantages wore blue polka dot pajamas and bright purple bunny slippers.

“Jarvis, who’s up?” Darcy asked as she looked up at the elevator ceiling.

“Captain Rogers-“

“Naturally. Steve is one of those insane people who wake up at 5am every morning without fail,” she told Jack.

“Doctor Banner is awake and doing yoga in the gym.”

“Has he eaten?”

“A fruit smoothie.”

“Okie dokie, anyone else?”

“Agent Romanoff.”

“Ask her if she wants any eggs.”

There was a moment of silence before Jarvis answered, “She says that she will be there in ten minutes.” The elevator stopped and opened on to the same floor where party had been held. Stark obviously employed a top-notch cleaning staff because there wasn’t a so much as a glass left out on the counter to suggest that a party had been held last night. Darcy set to work making them more coffee, setting out a carton of eggs, heating up a pan. Jack hovered uncertainly by a counter.

“Can I help?”

“Yeah, you can tell me if you’re in the mood for scrambled or over easy.”

He shrugged, “Whatever you want.”

“Nope!” Darcy set a bag of frozen hash browns beside the stovetop. She swiveled and stepped up to him, kissing him on the cheek. “Not what I asked, Cowboy. I want to know how you like your eggs.” Jack gave her a half smile and kissed her forehead.

“I guess we’re having deluxe scrambled today then.” He sidled over to the fridge and began pulling out ingredients. Darcy grinned and began cracking eggs into a bowl for him. Hashbrowns and eggs were soon sizzling in two frying pans on the stovetop. Jack and Darcy stood side by side armed with spatulas to attend their charges with Jack’s hand resting on the small of Darcy’s back.

“This is adorable.” Jack flinched at the new voice, but relaxed when Darcy called, “Hi Nat.” The spy had entered completely in silence and stood by the by the kitchen island looking relaxed in yoga pants and a t-shirt.

“Good morning, Romanoff.”

“Good morning to you as well, Daniels. What is that amazing smell?”

“Apparently Jack has very strong opinions on scrambled egg recipes!”

“Are they not just eggs that are scrambled?” Romanoff poured herself some coffee.

“No, that’s where everyone goes wrong and gets sad, dry eggs!” Jack explained for the second time the proper way to make scrambled eggs (bits of cream cheese and fresh rosemary) as the Black Widow sat at the countertop staring at him like he had grown horns.

“So he cooks and gives a decent show?” Romanoff laughed softly. “How unexpected.” Darcy glared at her and pulled the edges of Jack’s shirt closer together.

“Private showings only!” Jack and Romanoff laughed at her mock jealousy. They dished up breakfast and sat together chatting about recipes and international cuisine they had sampled. It was truly surreal, but not an unpleasant way to spend the morning. Romanoff even offered to do the dishes since they had cooked.

Jack and Darcy headed back down to Darcy’s rooms after locating Jack’s hat and coat, then they sat on her couch together while Darcy put the buttons back on his shirt. When Darcy was done, she held it up critically, searching for loose threads before passing it back to him. Jack took it and instead of putting it on, laid it on the coffee table.

“Thank you, Darlin’.” He captured her hand and began to kiss her fingers. “However can I repay such talented fingers?” Darcy giggled and put her sewing supplies on the coffee table.

“I can think of a few ways. Let’s see what you can come up with.”

Jack didn’t end up leaving Avengers Tower until late afternoon.

Blue shirt or green blouse? Slacks or Jeans? Darcy’s brain was frantically trying to come up with anything to focus on other than walking back into SHIELD HQ today. Socks with pineapples or dogs? Did she want toast or cereal for breakfast? A thousand tiny decisions stacked up in front of her, feeling insurmountable. Left or right? This street or that avenue? No matter how she dragged her feet she still ended up in front of the SHIELD building at 9 am.

She was still there when 9:10 rolled around. She didn’t want to go in there and deal with people. It was too much to hope that people would have forgotten about her going Full Lewis on Malkovich’s ass. She didn’t want to deal with administration and HR and all the rest of the bullshit either. Maybe she’d call in sick again and just go home.

And maybe you’ll get hit by a bus as cosmic justice for being such a coward. Woman up, Lewis! You are going in there and you are going to deal with your shit like an adult!

Her mental peptalk failed and her knees began to shake.

You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s the one in trouble, not you. I saw you take down a full agent, but walkin’ into a building is givin’ you trouble? Jack’s voice in her head was more soothing and persuasive. She could really do with one of his hugs right now.

Okay, Lewis, if you walk into that building right now you get to text Jack about meeting up after work today for fancy pastries at the bakery and one of those nice hugs that make you feel all safe and gooey inside.

She marched in with her head held high. Jack had told her she hadn’t done anything wrong and she believed him. She had protected herself. If forced into the same situation she’d do it again, and she wanted everyone to know it. No one needed to know how long it had taken her to walk in the door. She headed straight to her office and didn’t stop for anything, ignoring any attempts to catch her eye, and slammed the door shut behind her, gasping for breath.

I did it. It’ll get easier from here on.

She spent most of the morning catching up on emails and paperwork from her absence. An alarm went off at 11:45, disturbing her paperwork flow state. She silenced it and glanced at her phone. It was time. On her way out of the building she stopped at the bathroom to primp. Someone who knew her well might be able to tell that she was nervous and pale, but makeup had hidden the bags under her eyes. She nodded at her reflection and headed out.

The restaurant wasn’t far from the SHIELD building, but it still felt like miles to Darcy. She gave the party name to the woman at the front and was led deep into the restaurant and into a private event space set with one long table. Agent Cole was already there talking to two women that Darcy vaguely recognized from legal and IT. She gave them an awkward wave as she chose a seat and set down her bag and jacket. Agent Cole approached her.

“Hi, glad you’re here. I wasn’t sure if you were coming.” Darcy grimaced.

“I thought I might chicken out at the last second.” Cole smiled at her.

“But you didn’t. Come meet some of the others.” Darcy was introduced to the other women, and more kept arriving. She knew the email chain had been sizeable, but she was amazed how many people had shown up. And all of them recognized Darcy.

One of the last people to come in was Natasha, walking with Jack. The Widow was dressed to kill in a deep black pantsuit with red piping and her hair in a sleek ponytail. Jack too looked serious in one of his charcoal grey suits with a black tie. The sight of the familiar black cowboy hat made Darcy’s mouth quirk up. Cole got everyone seated and then rose to speak.

“Welcome everyone. You’re all here because you’ve been affected personally by the actions of Agent Malkovich or you’ve been investigating him.” Several people glanced at Nat and Jack. “This meeting is to share information and provide support. We’ve all known Malkovich was an asshole for a while now, but due to his public attack on Darcy Lewis and her actions taken in self-defense, everyone at SHIELD knows it too. We are going to file complaints against him with HR to force them to penalize or fire him. I know this is hard, but the more people who join us in the complaint and give evidence then the harder it will be for anyone to dismiss this. Together we can hold SHIELD to higher standard and make it a safer place for women.”

There was a moment of silence when Agent Cole finished speaking before pandemonium broke out. Suddenly everyone was talking at once, to each other, to Cole, to anyone. Questions about repercussion were shouted. Demands to see Malkovich fired were pressed. Quiet murmurs of agreement echoed. It took them a long time to get settled again. Cole began calling on people to voice their questions and concerns. Finally some women began offering their stories. Natasha had a laptop out and was serving as secretary. Someone from the restaurant came in to serve them large platters of sandwiches and pitchers of drinks. It was a long and heated meeting. Some women refused to give their testimony, deciding that it was too dangerous. Agent Cole accepted this with a silent nod of understanding. Darcy was the last person Cole called on.

“Does she even need to give a statement? They have the whole thing on video!” Dina Swanton, a junior field agent seated next to Darcy placed a hand on the back of her chair. Supporting her, protecting her.

“What they’ve got ain’t the whole story,” Jack said quietly.

“It’ll be better to hear it from Darcy’s perspective,” Agent Cole agreed. “So that we can have a written record in her own words.” Cole’s eyes were a lovely shade of blue, but Darcy didn’t find them at all comforting. She looked at Nat and Jack. Nat mouthed ‘it’s okay’. What exactly was okay about any of this, Darcy wondered. There were over a dozen women in this room who had been harassed by one man. A few women could even have brought up assault charges against him, given what Darcy had heard earlier. Her own pawing was mild, compared to theirs. Darcy looked at Jack. There was no warmth to his eyes today and not the merest crinkle of a smile for her lurking at the corner of his mouth. He looked like the cold, withdrawn man she had first met months ago. She hated it. When this is over, I am dragging him off into a corner to make out for at least ten solid minutes before I go back to the office. Jack gave her a slow nod as though agreeing with her plan. Do it, and get it over with, then you can kiss Jack and make a giant batch of cookies when you get home. She wished for something to do with her hands, but bringing her knitting hadn’t seemed appropriate. Instead, her nails bit into the backs of her hands where they were clasped in her lap as she began to speak.

She told them everything. About Malkovich’s rude ‘jokes’ and how he had come on to her before she had dated Agent Rumlow. How he seemed to have forgotten about her for a while, but then had started up again when they broke up. How she noticed that there were more nasty rumors about her sleeping with all of the different Avengers after that and Malkovich became more persistent in his requests for a date. How the ‘jokes’ became more lewd and inappropriate. How he found ways to touch her in public despite her rejections. Then the meeting where Jack had told him to knock it off.

The other women in the room gave Jack appreciative looks and nods, but he didn’t seem to see them. He was only looking at her.

She mentioned that she had heard of Malkovich reinforcing the sex rumors among other agents and on missions. Cole broke in to offer that they retained the mission recordings for some time, so if they could find the date or specific mission, they could have more proof of Malkovich’s misconduct. Jack nodded at her again and she saw him slide his phone over to Nat to look at. Then she told them about that day in the cafeteria when Malkovich had grabbed her ass and refused to apologize, insinuating that Darcy was ‘asking for it’.

“Then I tased him. When he still didn’t go down I kicked him and ran for it.”

“Yeah, I replay that moment a lot when I need a laugh,” offered one woman to break the silence that fell.

“But what happened after that? I watched the recording too. What did you say to him?” Someone asked Jack. Jack’s lips lifted in a snarl.

“I told him that Darcy was a lot nicer than I was, and if he so much as breathed in her direction again I’d deal with him in a more permanent manner.”

“I think I’ll leave that bit out of the complaint,” Nat snorted. Jack shrugged.

“Suit yourself. I stand by it.” He stood by her, that message was loud and clear. Darcy let herself relax back against her chair and breathed a sigh of relief. It was done.

“Good job,” whispered Dina from beside her.

Agent Cole began to wrap up the meeting, thanking everyone for being there, and talking about the next steps in the complaint process. Darcy listened without hearing. Recounting everything made her recall the feeling of Malkovich’s hands on her, foreign, uninvited. She felt her phone vibrate as she got up to leave.

‘Do you need anything?’

She smiled at the text from Jack. She looked around, but he had already slipped out. She huffed slightly in frustration. So much for her hopes of restoring her energy through a nice bit of kissing before going back to work. She felt brittle and a little frightened, like Malkovich would know what they had been doing in the restaurant and would pounce on her the second she left.

‘I could really use a hug. Wanna meet up later?’ she texted. She put her phone back in her coat pocket and felt for the reassuring weight of her taser in the other. I’ve faced aliens, robots, and supervillains, all way nastier than Agent Malkovich. And Jack basically threatened to murder him if he came near me. For a man who says he isn’t my boyfriend, he’s very protective. Comforted, Darcy was able to give Natasha a quick smile as she left. Nat nodded and handed her the same folder she had been handing to all the other women as they left. As she walked back towards SHIELD Darcy flipped through it, expecting something about the HR complaint process. That was in there too, but there were also lists of counselors specializing in assault and pamphlets about sexual harassment and abuse.’

“Hey!” Someone called behind her. Darcy jerked the folder closed and spun around. Jack.

“Hay is for horses,” she told him breathlessly. He approached and handed her a steaming cup of coffee from a nearby coffee shop.

“Who’s the cowboy here, you or me?” Darcy grinned and lifted the cup to her face. It was too hot to drink just yet but it smelled incredible and warmed her cold hands.

“Don’t worry, you’ve still got the hat on. So this is where you went?”

“Yeah,” he cocked his head to the side and surveyed her carefully. “I thought you might want some after all that.” Darcy’s lip wobbled. Fucking sweetie.

“Ye-ah,” she agreed, her voice cracking. “Did – did you get my text?” Jack nodded and spread his arms wordlessly. Darcy sank in to him gratefully, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the wool of his jacket. His arms closed around her. A hand wove into her hair, pressing her to his chest. Darcy sighed and focused on trying to listen for his heartbeat under all the layers of his clothing.

“You did real good, Darlin’, real good,” he told her softly. She gripped the back of his coat in the hand that wasn’t holding a hot cup of coffee. Coffee he’d disappeared to get her because he knew how much comfort and energy it brought her. She sniffled, trying to blink away the wetness in her eyes. “You were brave and told them everything they need. Cole and Romanoff will handle everything else.” She nodded. His fingers worked their way through her hair to brush against the back of her neck. “Tell me what to do, Sweetheart. Tell me how to make you feel better.” She squeezed him tighter.

“You’re doing it. Just needed coffee, and you.” She tilted her head up to look at him. His eyes were soft and concerned. She aimed a kiss at his lips but caught his chin instead. Jack made a surprised sound and dipped his head to give her a quick kiss. Darcy sighed and gave him a half smile as the soft contact made her lips tingle. Jack kissed her again, longer this time, and tender enough for a Disney movie. Warmth flooded her veins and she felt more alert than she had all day. “Yup, really needed that,” she murmured. He huffed and gave her a final squeeze.

“Drink your coffee, Darcy.”

Chapter Text

“God I hate Halloween.”

“Ha! I fucking love Halloween!”

A 20-foot headless horseman figure with a jack-o-lantern for a head carrying a scythe was menacing people in Times Square. Darcy was in the main situation room for entirely unrelated reasons, but was enjoying a front row seat nonetheless.

“Come on, Director Pirate, you have to admit this is cool!”

“I will admit to no such goddamn thing, Lewis. What in the fuck are you even doing here? Is that thing Asgardian?”

“What? No, the headless horsemen is a strictly a British Isles kind of thing.” Director Fury groaned and rubbed at his eyes. Darcy barely held back a giggle. Fury was such a stick in the mud! The horseman, while scary, had barely done any damage before the Avengers had swooped in and corralled it. More people had probably been hurt while stampeding away than by the giant scythe. “Oh wait, there’s an idea. Hey, Fury? This thing was way too easy to deal with. Could it be a distraction for something else?”

Fury blinked one dark eye at her before snapping to the room at large, “what else is happening?”

“Police scanners reported shots fired uptown.”

“There’s a fire on Allen Street.”

“Alarms just started going off at the Met. A tourist probably touched something they shouldn’t have.”

“Scramble a team to the museum!” Darcy got to watch as SHIELD interrupted a heist conducted by someone who had gotten their hand on a monkey’s paw-type artifact that gave them insane and bizarre powers. Team Lima handled it easily. Darcy shameless watched Jack’s ass on other team member’s body cameras. Agent Hill pursed her lips at Darcy’s ogling but said nothing.

‘Nice job snagging that artifact with your whip 😊 very Indian Jonesy!’ Darcy typed as she headed back down to the labs. When she got back she helped Jane tinker with one of her custom data collection instruments. Darcy couldn’t have said what the big metal box covered in weird antenna’s did, but Jane had needed someone to read measurements for her as she flipped switches and gave the thing several old-fashioned kicks.

“Yes! Victory!” Jane announced after a particularly enthusiastic smack.

“This is just like old times,” Darcy reminisced. “Even with better funding, you still insist on building half this stuff yourself.”

“It’s just that no one has invented the things that measure what I want to measure yet!” Jane protested. It fooled neither of them. Jane was just as likely as Tony to be found staying up all night cobbling machinery together. No one ever expected the dainty astrophysicist to be covered in machine grease and dressed in shirts with little scorch holes in them.

There was a gentle knocking at the laboratory door.

“Who is that ‘gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door’?” sang Darcy as she skipped over to let the person in.

“What are you, Shakespeare?”

“Nope, it’s the season of Poe!” Darcy felt a small triumph at knowing something Jane didn’t. She knew there were different ways to measure intelligence, but she did like being able to beat Jane at trivia every now and then. She keyed open the door to find a handsome cowboy smirking down at her.

“Darcy,” he greeted her.

“Cowboy,” she crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” Jack fished his phone from his pocket and waggled it at her.

“How did you know?”

“About your impressive moves? Maybe a little birdie told me, or maybe it was a spider…”

“She was watching in the situation room!” Jane called.

“Oh c’mon Jane! You couldn’t have let me drag that out a little more? It gives me street cred with the spies if I mysteriously know things!”

“Quit flirting and come help me find where we put the other datasets for this thing!”

“Someone’s in trouble.” Jack’s grin was wide as he leaned against the doorframe too, looming over her.

“Nah, she’s just excited that we got that thingamajig fixed.” She turned her face into his collar just a little and inhaled deeply. He smelled of ceder, leather, sweat, and gunpowder. Yum.

“What thingamajig?” Jack pushed her lightly, herding her back into the lab. He followed her and the door automatically resealed behind them.

“The Quantum Einstein-Rosen Particle Trace Detector!”

“Did you understand that?”

“Sadly yes. You know how Thor traveled to Earth using a bridge/portal thingie?” Jack nodded. “It’s generated with a specific type of particle. Before Janey they were only theoretical, but she figured out how to detect them, which is why we were in the right place to meet Thor. We can usually detect where the Bifrost is going to be or has recently been opened, but this machine is supposed to detect really old traces of the particles so that we can find older sites as well.”

“So you’ll be able to figure out when incidents have been caused by alien visitors or more domestic troubles?”

“And so much more!” Jane butted in. “I hope that we can refine it enough so that we can detect particle traces left from years ago. We may be able to build a more complete understanding of where and how long Earth has been being visited by people from other worlds!” Darcy observed Jack carefully. He looked puzzled and bemused, but he didn’t seem annoyed or ready to run which were common reactions when Jane started talking about visitors from other planets. 20 or 30 years ago Jane would have been laughed out of any scientific circle for discussing how to detect aliens. Some people even now, despite multiple literal alien invasions, would still call her crazy. Jack just looked politely interested and impressed. He pulled up a chair as Darcy and Jane began tinkering with the QERPTD again and shuffling through log files to find the place where the machine had started to go haywire. He sat and chatted while they worked.

After some time, Jane stood up and headed for the door.

“Okay, I’m going to go get some coffee so that you can make out with your boyfriend in peace. I’ll be gone for about 20 minutes, and there better not be anything broken when I get back!”

Darcy lapsed into helpless giggles at the stunned look on Jack’s face.

“She’s a good egg, Janey, and she doesn’t mince words.”

“I can see that.” Jack shook himself like a dog coming out of the water. He reached over hesitantly and took Darcy’s hand. Darcy pulled it onto her lap and gave it a squeeze. The angle was a little awkward as she was perched above him on a table but he didn’t seem to mind. Jack grinned and swiveled the chair so that his chest pressed against her shins. He wrapped an arm around her legs and propped his chin on her knee. She smirked at him.

“You know her crack about not breaking anything was because she fully expects us to have some wildly gymnastic makeout session?” Jack sniggered. “Yup. I’ve come back from more than one coffee break to find Jane and Thor looking extremely disheveled and the lab looking like a tornado hit it.”

“Well, I doubt I could toss you around like the god of thunder, but I could make an attempt.” Darcy smiled at the dimple showing in his cheek. She lifted off his hat and set it beside her on the table, kissed his forehead where the band had left a red dent, and carded her free hand through his hair.

“Or we could just sit here for a bit?”

“But Darlin’ think of my reputation!” He told her in a mock scandalized tone. It made her laugh. “Don’t mock me, woman, my ego is a fragile thing!” She kissed him right between the eyes.

“You’re in a good mood today, any particular reason? Or is it just a post-battle high?”

“Mm, little bit. Things are going well with the new team.”

After the joint complaint against Malkovich had been filed, Jack had been called into a meeting with Gladys from HR.

“I noticed in reading the statements against Malkovich that you also testified to his inappropriate behavior,” she began without pleasantries or preamble. “I also saw in your file that you requested not to work with Malkovich and Team Sierra several weeks ago. Are these things related?” Jack had faced her stonily.

“Yes, Ma’am. I noticed his behavior towards certain female coworkers. I dislike putting my life in the hands of someone who disregards the rights and feelings of others so blatantly. I tried to raise the issue with the team leader, but it was dismissed as petty jock talk. As you can see from the complaint, it’s not just talk. When I go into the field as a part of a team I need to be certain that I can rely on all its members. I never liked Malkovich. I didn’t have a problem with Rumlow as a team leader until he blew off my concerns. Rumlow might have been able to curb Malkovich, but he didn’t, and she-“ he stopped himself as his voice grew louder. He blew out sharply. “And others were harmed as a result.” Gladys regarded him. He wondered if the woman liked poker, she had a great face for it.

“So you aren’t willing to work on the same team anymore.”

No, Ma’am.” He gritted his teeth. “Frankly, if you put me in the field with him again, I might just shoot the bastard.” After what he had heard on Monday, it would be no less than he deserved. Darcy hadn’t been the only woman Malkovich touched without consent. Gladys sighed.

“You are not the only person to have expressed such sentiments. Agent Malkovich has been suspended from all fieldwork pending a review.” Jack snorted. Review was a such a pleasant HR term for being raked across the coals. He hoped Malkovich was spending some quality time in a windowless room being questioned by some of the harshest senior agents that SHIELD had. “As for working with Team Sierra, I will note your dissatisfaction with Agent Rumlow’s leadership. Did you have issues with anyone else on the team?” Jack shook his head. “Very well. Several other field teams have put in requests for you, so it’ll just be a matter of who you want to work with.”

He had jerked sharply and stared at the older woman for too long. She noticed and her mouth pursed in a miniscule smile.

“Your personnel feedback has labeled you extremely hardworking, adaptable, skilled in unconventional forms of combat, and highly experienced. You could be on track to be an independent senior agent within two years, but for now we need to attach you to a team that can benefit from your unique talents.”

Jack hadn’t been expecting a choice. Choices were for people- which I am! I’m a fucked up person who committed a big fuck up, but still a person!

He was doing his best to keep repeating it in his head. Some days it was easier than others. Today, when he had worked with his new team to flawlessly takedown a threat and was getting to spend time with one of his favorite people, it was easy as pie.

 Learning more about Jane’s (and by extension Darcy’s) work was an unexpected bonus. He did like the headstrong and overwhelmingly intelligent scientist. She reminded him of Ginger and Merlin. As he spent more time with Darcy, spending time with her friends seemed to happen by accident. Darcy would invite him to a gimmicky bar to try silly cocktails and Jane and Thor had wanted to come too. Dary wanted to get dinner at a nice restaurant instead of takeout and there was an art show opening nearby that Steve had been excited about, so he met them after dinner to see it. Jack  had been invited to game night at Avenger’s tower more than once already.

It felt suspiciously like dating.

Jack didn’t make a single objection (apart from going to see a really dull-sounding romantic drama and offering that the movie sounded more like Thor or Steve’s thing) to whatever Darcy wanted to do. She was in charge of where this all went. He had desperately offered himself up in hopes of receiving even a small portion of the kindness and passion she gave to all her friends, and she had overwhelmed him, sucker punching him with more than he had ever dreamed about. She encouraged him to break all of the rules he had set for himself and it had never felt so good.

Nothing in public? He had dragged her into a closet to make out in front of half the Extraordinary community of New York.

No labels? He constantly called her Sweetheart and Darlin’, and had only narrowly avoided calling her his girl when he had been talking to Clint yesterday.

It could end any time she wanted? Well, he’d do his damnedest to make sure she was never bored or dissatisfied or unappreciated and have to hope that she didn’t want it to end for a hell of a long time.

The only rule neither of them seemed to want to break was monogamy. Jack wasn’t sure what he’d do if Darcy wanted to start going around with another guy. He’d probably have to ask Thor and Natasha to restrain him for 48 hours while he processed that. He sure as fuck wasn’t interested in anyone else. Nobody else made him feel like this, and he wasn’t sure anyone else ever would. Warm and spinney like a carnival ride on a hot summer’s day, scary but thrilling and you wanted more the second you touched down again.

Jack grinned up Darcy, tilting his chin in challenge. Darcy like challenges and puzzles. She leaned down and kissed him playfully, sweet as cotton candy.

“So do you think you’ll want to stay?” She asked. Jack blinked a few times in confusion, having lost track of their conversation in the quagmire of his own thoughts. “With Team Lima?”

“Mm. They’re decent guys.” Lima was an all-male close-quarters combat team that was usually sent in when things were definitely going to end up in a fight. Jack had worked with them a few times before, but knew most of them better from sparring and chatting about guns at the range. “All the subtlety of a fireworks show though.”

“Here I was thinking you were pretty unsubtle yourself.” She flicked the cowboy hat on the table next to her.

“As my HR feedback suggests… I am highly adaptable,” he purred. Darcy laughed at his absurd flirt, her grey-blue eyes sparking in that way he liked so much. He stood and slid between her legs, pulling her forward to meet him. “No, really! Also “extremely hardworking”.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember you showed me just how hardworking you are last Thursday,” she cooed, pressing up against him. Her thumb brushed over a little bruise she had left just above his collar. At the time she had given it to him neither of them had been wearing much clothing at all.

“Last Thursday seems a mighty long time ago. I think maybe I ought to give you a reminder.” His fingers scraped over her breast clad in a cute shirt with a pattern of bats. She shuddered and arched into his touch. He palmed her breast and appreciated the thinness of the viscose fabric. Darcy’s mouth latched onto the old bruise to renew it, but a gasp tore her lips away from his skin. He shuddered at the sound so close to ear. Jack pressed their hips together more insistently, earning him another sweet sound.

“Come to think of it, you seem to be in a pretty good mood today yourself, Sweetheart.” He undid a few buttons and slipped his hand inside her shirt, lifting her free of the cup of her bra so that he could tweak her nipple. They both moaned at the exquisite feeling of flesh on flesh. Darcy’s lips pressed against the hollow below his jaw, and when her tongue flicked out to taste his skin it sent sparks shooting down his spine. She muttered something but he lost it amidst the soft pants of their breath. “What?”

“S’your fault.” Her tongue flicked against his ear. “You’re so hot when you’re in the field. I never want to look away.” His hands spasmed in surprise. “And you’re always so wrapped up when you’re working. It’s bad enough when you’re just in a t-shirt,” she sighed, her hands plucking at his white cotton shirt. “But when you’re in a full suit, I can’t help thinking about getting you alone to strip it off you.” Jack’s whole body shuddered. The blood pounded in his ears. He wanted so badly to kiss her, but she was pressed to tightly and shifting her would have required freeing up his hands that were so well-employed seeking under her shirt for more skin.

“Fuuuck, Darlin’,” he moaned instead. “That gets you goin’? Me in a fucking suit?” Jeezus, he didn’t even wear his best ones to work. He might have to start though. Darcy’s hand raked through his hair, setting his mind whirling again.

“Yeah” She panted, locking her legs around him. “I lo- love it!”

(I love you in everything and in nothing.)

Noooooo! You did not almost just tell him that right now! It’s not time yet, he’s not ready! Gods, please shut up, shut up! But the filter on her brain was fuzzing out like a patchy radio signal.

“Love the suits. Love the hat. Love it when you take it all off- I- ah!” Jack hand lifted her leg at the knee, tilting, opening, letting the bulge in his pants grind against her cunt. Darcy’s hands clutched at his sides, scrabbling for purchase as he tilted her hips precariously but oh so deliciously. Her inner muscles clenched and ached at being empty. Her body writhed sinuously to rub against Jack. Jack used her movement to return the favor and nip at her neck.

“More,” he growled. “Gimme more, Sweetheart.” His tongue swirled against her pulse point.

“Mmmm! Love your voice ‘n your accent. Hah! L-love it when you call me Sweetheart.” He barked out a laugh because they both knew well by now how much Darcy like being praised and called pet names, and sucked hard at the curve of her neck. Darcy wailed. She was so close! She could feel it building and fizzing in her veins.  “Love your h-hands. So, so good!” She could feel the dampness of her panties as his cock ground into her. So close now.

The door hissed and began to open.

Jack whipped a knife from his sleeve and flicked it end over end until it smacked into the door panel. The doors slammed shut in Jane’s shocked and laughing face. Darcy still shrieked and froze.

“Shit! Who was-“ Jack’s mouth slammed over hers, tongues squelching obscenely. She moaned at his familiar taste. “Jack – wait – we should-“ He moaned and nipped at her lip.

“Please, Darlin’, just a little more! You’re almost there…” Darcy shuddered at the rasping need in his voice that stroked over her skin like a physical thing. His hand drew her other breast out of its fabric cage and the callouses on his hands were the perfect level of roughness against her sensitive skin.

“Fuck it,” she murmured.

“S’that mean fuck you?” he chuckled. Her knees clenched and she gripped his shirt hard enough to tear. It was a good thing the suits Jack wore out into the field were generally tougher and better made than the average civilian gear. His thumb flicked across her nipple.

“Yes!” she gasped. “Ye-es! Please, Jack, more-“ Their mouths met sloppily, more teeth than lips. Darcy couldn’t take it. She fumbled at his belt, undoing his fly.

“That a girl,” he praised. “Don’t worry, you can have it. Give you anything you want, Sweetheart, you know that.” Yes, she did. She had thought their first night together would be a very nice anomaly: it wasn’t. Jack was indeed a hard worker, unafraid of foreplay and things other men would consider toil. He always took such good care of her. Her hand scrambled at her own pants, lifting her hips to get them down enough. Jack sank into her in one motion as she planted her sweaty hands behind her for leverage. Her hips surged greedily, pulling him in as he groaned. He went still as he bottomed out, every inch of his cock seated inside her. A little bead of sweat pearled at his temple. His eyes, when he opened them, were nearly black. Darcy whimpered and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Feel so good, Darcy.” His breath puffed against her damp skin. “I could stay right here forever.” She felt a laugh well up inside her. She could feel him in her guts and it felt like a perfect fit, like a porno Cinderella. She might very well want him to stay there, but cockwarming was really not Jack’s thing, he couldn’t stand staying so still. Something shifted and his tip nudged her g-spot.  She groaned. “Right here, huh Sweetheart?” He pulled out slowly, her walls clutching around him, and slotting home in the perfect place.

“Ye-es!” she gasped. He did it again and again. A hand fell to her pussy and began playing with her clit. More slick helped him slide in out of her faster and faster. All thoughts leaked away and she sobbed in relief as her orgasm finally hit. Pleasure ran over every inch of her body as her blood pounded and muscles tensed. Jack managed a few more thrusts before his own release overwhelmed him. They sagged together with Jack’s head on her shoulder and her arms wrapped around him.

“Love that,” she whispered raggedly. He chuckled weakly and pressed kisses to her exposed skin.

“I know you do.” His fingers glided over the place where they joined, creaming their mess together and spreading it over already damp flesh. “Made such a pretty mess.” Darcy shuddered, feeling him touch sensitive spots that he knew she liked. He drew back a little to look at her. She felt his hot gaze track over her skin. He lowered his head to kiss at her chest. She murmured an impotent protest as she arched her back. His teeth against her flesh made her core begin to ache again.

“Jack,” she fell back onto her elbows. “We gotta stop…” Jack paid her no mind as his tongue lapped at her breast. “Mmm…” His softening cock slid out of her and she whimpered from loneliness. Jack began whispering dirty praises that drove her crazy even as his mouth and fingers worked to drive her over the edge again. It didn’t take long before she was gasping and writhing for him once more. He took her with his fingers this time, rubbing expertly against the places that made her moan while his mouth left little marks scattered across her breasts like a constellation of stars.

“So… dinner tomorrow night?” Darcy glowered at him as they tidied their clothes. Her underwear was a disgusting moist mess because of him! “Ah c’mon, Sweetheart, what were you expecting when you texted me about my whip skills in the middle of the day?” He was laughing even as he grabbed a container of alcohol wipes and swabbed down the table. Alright, maybe she had been hoping to tease him into a make out session in her office, but she hadn’t been planning to fuck him in the lab! His smile only grew when she told him as much.

“Well maybe it’s your fault for makin’ me so damn happy, ever think of that?”

Darcy startled.

“I make you happy?” The smile vanished. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes dammit! Did I not say-“ He broke off, shaking his head. “Darce, you’ve got to know… how much I… the way we… I really, really, really like being with you.”

She watched him struggle with the words. When it came to his work, Jack was cool and confident. Personal matters seemed more difficult for him. It had taken him ages before he finally admitted that Clint was one of his favorite people to hang out with in general and that Steve was now his favorite sparring partner. She knew that Jack liked having sex with her, but Darcy had been wondering if he thought hanging out with her was just the price of admission. It would be just like him, to think of even personal relationships as transactions.

Jack reached out and cupped her face in both hands. He smelled slightly of antiseptic now.

“M’sorry I didn’t say it clear before now; you make me happy, happier than I’ve been in a long time. I like the sex, I like the talking, I like just hanging out on the couch watching a movie, as long as it’s with you.”

Inwardly Darcy was screaming in celebration while her heart did cartwheels. Later she would do a victory dance to the chant of ‘he likes me, he likes me, I make him happy’. This was progress! She struggled not to break into a fit of frenzied screeching or dancing and managed to smile back in a way that she hoped didn’t look too crazy.

“Good,” she squeaked. She cleared her throat. “That’s good, I mean I figured you were kind of enjoying things because the sex is absurdly good, but I’m never sure about everything else since we’re mostly doing stuff I like.” She cut herself off before she started to babble. Jack nodded slowly as he rubbed his thumbs against her cheeks.

“I get it. You feel like you’re just draggin’ me into stuff.” Darcy’s mouth quirked into a half smile.

“Bullseye, Cowboy. You gotta admit that’s kinda our deal. I drag you into having dinner, or getting drinks with my friends, or coming over to my place for Netflix and chill.”

“No!” He kissed her sharply. “No.” This time his mouth was softer. “I didn’t think about it like that. I just like- like spendin’ time with you, however that happens. I didn’t realize you felt like you were forcin’ me into anything.” She shrugged, trying to avoid his soft brown eyes. He made it even more difficult by pressing their foreheads together. “What’ll it take to convince you that I am right where I want to be?” It was insanely difficult for Darcy to breathe.

 Ask me to be your girlfriend or partner or something. Ask me for a real relationship, instead of whatever weird quasi-situationship we’re in. It’s fine if you’re not in love with me, even if I’m so in love with you that it makes me feel a little sick to my stomach and it makes Jane a little sick to hers to hear me talk constantly about how awesome you are, it’s fine. I just want to be yours.

She only managed to shrug again and swallow hard through the knot in her throat. She couldn’t say any of that. He’d only just gotten around to ‘I like you’. Jack surely wasn’t ready to hear ‘I love you, please be my boyfriend’. Jack shifted, nuzzling their noses together. It nearly made her go to pieces. She never figured him for the cuddly type, but he was. After some of the initial awkwardness was over Jack was a very tactile person. Every time they had sex, he wanted to stay close and connected for a while afterword, spooning, holding hands, something. Darcy fucking loved it. She fucking loved him.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “It- it does help that you said it.”

“That’s not enough though. Not for you, you need to know.” He kissed her so sweetly. “Guess I’ll figure it out. I’ll show you just how much I like being with you.” Darcy gave him a wobbly smile.

“I thought you showed me that every time you fucked my brains out,” she snarked. He smirked.

“Clearly I haven’t been tryin’ hard enough.” She flushed at the recent memory.

“Talk like that is how we ended up fucking on that lab table.”

“Mmhm. Maybe time to switch to a safer topic. What do you want for dinner tonight?”

“Uh… how about Italian?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He kissed her again. “See you at 7?” Darcy nodded and waved him out. The second he was gone she sunk into her rolling chair, energy completely spent. She consciously shoved aside the last few minutes of their conversation to focus on the good parts. The flirting. The sex. She twirled, staring at the ceiling with a stupid grin on her face.

I make him happy.

He needed advice. In the life he once had Ginger or Champ would have been his best bet for solid advice. Ginger was one of the smartest people he knew and Champ had seen and done everything in his long career as a spy. Jack didn’t have them anymore. He considered asking Clint, but he figured Bird Brain would spend half the time cracking jokes and laughing at the problem rather than help him solve it. He considered talking to Cole, who he considered a subject matter expert, but she didn’t know the full specifics of the situation and enlightening her would take a while. There was only one person he knew who would have the experience and subject expertise to solve the issue, and wouldn’t require being read in, and was unlikely to laugh at him. Jack needed help so he asked the Black Widow if she would meet him for a drink.

She was already waiting for him at a swanky bar uptown that was full of crystal, mirrors, gold accents, and soft lighting. In other words, a high-class joint with low visibility and lots of pointy improvised weaponry. He would have expected nothing less. He dressed impeccably in his black suit, dark green tie, and grey shirt. He was tempted to leave the hat at home so as not to stand out, but he shrugged and stuck some small poison darts in the hidden inner band. Darcy had teased him that his hat was like a security blanket, and when he had tried to tell her all of the uses of wearing a distracting hat that could also conceal weaponry she had laughed and patted his arm saying, “sure Cowboy”.

The Widow wore a lovely pale green cocktail dress. Her legs themselves were lethal weapons (no really, she had been known to use them to choke people to death) but he could tell she had a few hidden blades tucked high on her thigh, and no doubt she was carrying a gun in the swanky little designer purse beside her. He swaggered in and sat down beside her at the bar, ordering a whiskey from the bartender.

“Good evenin’, Natasha.”

“Hello Jack. Clint is at home feeling very jealous.” Jack sipped at his drink.

“I’ll be sure to buy him a few rounds next time we grab a beer.”

“Wise. He is like a child when it comes to holding grudges.”

“Can’t have him mad at me, I’d miss the annoying bastard.” She flashed him her teeth.

“Let us be frank, I know I am not your usual choice of drinking companion, so why did you request this meeting with me?” He played with the condensation on the glass bar top.

“Because I need advice or help.” He sighed. “I’m too much of a dumbass to figure it out on my own.” The Widow waived a perfectly manicured hand that looked too delicate to ever hold a gun.

“You have intrigued me.”

“It’s Darcy,” he spilled out in a rush. “I need to figure out how to make her happy, how to make her feel appreciated.” Natasha turned her whole body to face him and scowled at him.

“What precipitated this?” He took a hearty swig of his drink and did his best to meet her piercing stare.

“Don’t know if you know about… our arrangement…” She rolled her eyes and sipped at her martini. “Well, I think it’s going good. Real good.” A tiny snort from her. “We were together the other day and I told her she makes me happy. She seemed… unsure. Said she worried that she was forcin’ me into things. I tried to tell her no, but I don’t think she really believed me.” He paused marshalling his breathing. “She also didn’t say if she was happy.”  This time Natasha gave a substantial cough. She covered her mouth but a slight smile had already slipped out. Jack stared at her. She took another sip of her drink.

“This… problem… is the most interesting thing I’ve hear all week. So yes, I will help you.” He exhaled softly in relief, some of tension easing from his spine. “You want to make Darcy happy, and you wish her to understand that you like her and wish to continue seeing her.” She ordered another martini. “I can allay your fears at least in one regard; Darcy does enjoy being with you.”  Jack felt the tips of his ears redden. “The problem is that she believes she likes being with you more than you do here.”

“But that is just not true!”

“Is it? How can she know? Darcy is used to dealing with spies and other difficult people who rarely say exactly what they mean. She pays more attention to actions. You may say that you are glad you are together, but you need to prove it.” Jack resisted the urge to bang his head on the bar.

“How can I do that?” he grumbled. “You’d think the woman would get the hint from the sheer amount of time I spend with her.”

“Hmm. I have noticed her absence from the tower lately.”

“That’s ‘cuz she’s with me,” he announced with a tinge of pride coloring her voice.

“And what are you doing together?” Jack nearly joked on spit.

“Jeezus, Natasha! Like hell I’m talkin’ to you about that shit!” The Widow grinned at his outrage.

“I did not mean it like that! Unless… that is all you ever do together?”

“Of course not. We eat, watch movies, sometimes she’ll be sitting working on her knitting and I’ll be cleaning my guns, occasionally we’re at the tower for a party.”

“So almost exclusively in private. And I suppose the only time you go out is when she suggests it.” Her tone was arch but Jack couldn’t understand why.

“That’s how it works.”

“Your… arrangement stipulates this?”

“The arrangement was that we didn’t need to be in a public relationship. We didn’t need to make a big deal about dating or shit like that.” A stony, judgmental face greeted that statement and again he didn’t understand why. “Look, being involved with a coworker can be tough and that’s with ordinary people, I didn’t think she’d necessarily want to trumpet around that she was screwing me of all people, especially with the Malkovich shit.”

“Ah, so that was all solely for her benefit, yes I see,” Natasha told him caustically.

“What, you think I wanted to keep it a secret? Like I’m ashamed of her?” Cold green eyes stared him down. “Fuck no! Darcy is amazing. Clever, funny, gorgeous, and crazy. Anyone would be proud to be with her. It’s me that’s the issue! I’m a workaholic spy with enough baggage to fill an airport. Not exactly anyone’s dream partner.” He threw back the rest of his drink. The Widow was silent for a minute.

“Not the average person, no, but we’re not talking about a normal person. Darcy Lewis is extraordinary. You thought she wouldn’t want to be caught dead with you, but she has introduced you to her closest friends and is unafraid to be seen with you in public.  Whatever your strange ideas, and whatever your original rules might have been, I remind you that Darcy Lewis lives to break rules. Perhaps you should take your cues from her.”

“I… thought that’s what I was doing?”

“Now you know better. Reassess the situation.”

“She has invited me out a few times… for dinner, museums, movies… outside.”

“Yes, in public, where most people assume that if you are kissing and holding hands that you are most likely in a romantic relationship.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Darcy assumes because of your original arrangement and that you never suggest an outing, that you may be ashamed of her or do not like her as much as she likes you.”

“So you’re telling me is to say... screw the rules and ask her to go on a proper date?”

“Is that what you wish to do?” The spider was doing an incredible impression of a sphynx. Jack leaned heavily against the bar top and stared into the droplets at the bottom of his whiskey glass. He knew damn well what he wanted to do, but did Darcy really want those things too? A formal date might be the first step down that path, and here was Natasha telling him that Darcy wanted that. If she shut him down he could play it off as a casual thing, but if she said yes? What if? Pretty visions of him taking Darcy to a fancy restaurant where they held hands across the table, of them walking arm in arm through Central Park while eating ice cream, going to a county fair or Coney Island and playing overpriced games to win her a silly stuffed animal, a concert where they sat on a picnic blanket to listen to the music and kiss... Bright futures swirled before him and he knew he wanted Darcy to be a part of every one.

“D’you think she’d like going ice skating with me? Or maybe one of those bottomless mimosa brunches? What about-” Natasha’s icy expression cracked as she laughed at him.

Chapter Text

It was almost time. Jack had thoroughly done his research and scored tickets to a concert he knew Darcy wanted to go to. The group was one that she had introduced him to and they both enjoyed their music. She had stayed over at his place last night.

Jack splashed water in his face, toweled off, and went to put on the coffee. He was a dark Columbian roast type of person, while Darcy liked hazelnut. He had a bag of her kind sitting right beside his in the cupboard. The gurgling of the coffeepot was echoed by a grumbling coming from the bedroom. He chuckled and leaned against the countertop to wait. Soon a stumbling, bed-headed zombie emerged. Like a magnet, she headed directly to the pot.

“Works like a charm.” He put milk and sugar by her elbow and watched in fascination as she went through the routine of making her coffee with her eyes barely open. She took several gulps of scalding hot coffee. “Mornin’ Sweetheart,” he hummed cheerfully.

“Morning people scare me,” she growled.

“Ha! Like you’ve been afraid of me for a single second.” She rolled her eyes and faceplanted into his chest.

“Why are you awake this early?” she whined. “It’s Saturday morning! We get to sleep in.” He laced his hands behind her back and planted a kiss in her hair.

“Darce, it’s 10 o’clock.”

“Mmpf.” He snorted at her lack of pep. She never was one for waking up early, but this was a bit extreme. He sipped his own cup of coffee as she leaned against him.

“You plannin’ on fallin’ back asleep there?”

“No.” She nuzzled at his throat. “Just like it here.” She turned her face up to grin at him. “The view’s nice.” He returned the smile and reached down to give her ass a squeeze.

“I don’t mind mine either.”

Their air was playful and genial as the morning progressed and at one point they found themselves discussing the best music to sing along to while doing the dishes. Jack figured he wasn’t going to get a better opening.

“Hey Darcy, you like that band Dieter and the Dolls, right?”

“Yeah! We’ve talked about them before, I showed you that video of their performance in LA. Why?”

“Well I’ve got tickets to their upcoming show and I wondered if you wanted to go with me?” There, nice and casual. Darcy let out an enormous screech and threw herself into his arms like a koala on speed. He caught her, hands dripping soap suds, as she wrapped herself around him.

“Ohmigods! Yes! This is going to be so much fuuuuun!” He laughed and let their momentum twirl them around. Her excitement was infectious.

“I was thinking we could go to that all night diner you like afterwards for pancakes?” She tensed and loosened her arms from around his neck enough to look at him. They were so close their noses rubbed together.

“Ja-ack? That’s diner and a show.” Her voice was soft and teasing.

“Yeah, got a problem with that?” He muttered past the lump in his throat. Darcy kissed him gently on the cheek and shifted closer to rub her face against his like a cat asking to be pet.

“Nooo...” she drew out. “But it does sound really close to a date.”

“Hmm. Could be that’s exactly what it is.” Her lips pressed his skin again in a nibbling slide down his face and neck.

“Then you’ve got yourself a date, Cowboy. And you’re definitely getting lucky that night.”

“Just that night or are some of the nights in between options as well?”  Her teeth ran over the skin of his neck in a way that always made him shiver. His hands flexed against the swell of her ass.

“Morning, noon, and night, Jack. If you want it.”

“Fuck.” He had her back up against a wall in a trice, grinding their hips together. “How ‘bout now, Darlin’?” She moaned and bit down hard enough to bruise. He felt the sensation zip straight to his cock. Her hands swept over his back. He hadn’t bothered putting on a t-shirt earlier and now he was glad of the free reign it gave her hands. He rebalanced so that he could hold her up with one hand and sent the other scrabbling between them. His t-shirt and a pair of panties were the only things she wore. Jack found his objective easily and began to rub at her mound.

“Jack!” She kissed him sloppily, her tongue darting out to slip against his. Her fingers twined into his hair. She knew exactly how much to tug to get him going. He pulled her underwear to the side and danced his fingers down her slit, enjoying her moans of encouragement.

“That feel good, Sweetheart?” A finger slid inside her and she wriggled, trying to get him to go deeper. “Uh uh, words, Darce’.”

“Yes! Yes! Feels really good, Baby!” He kissed her throat as she threw her head back. “M-more! C’mon Jack!” Fingers weren’t enough anymore. He needed to be as close as possible. He shoved the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear down and guided himself inside her. Darcy angled her hips to take him deeper with another pornographic moan. Jack kept moving, unrelenting, fucking her hard against his kitchen wall. He couldn’t hold back and came quickly, shuddering as he finished first. He plied his fingers against her sensitive nub and she also came in short order, murmuring his name and raining kisses over his face even as she sighed in pleasure. He caught her mouth and kissed her softly as they came down.

They collapsed onto the couch still half clothed and talked of nothing important until Darcy declared she was too sticky and her hair was an unholy mess that desperately needed washing. Jack admired the view as she disentangled herself and stood to stretch. His shirt wasn’t long enough to cover her pale thighs that were practically glowing in the morning sunshine. Utterly Gorgeous.

Darcy looked down in amusement as Jack watched her with a tiny happy smirk on his face. His eyes appreciatively traced her bare legs and the slope of her soft stomach. She lowered her arms and tugged on the hem of the shirt, wishing it were just a bit longer. Silly to be self-conscious about it given how many times Jack had seen her naked, but old insecurities were hard to kill. Jack reached up and stroked the backs of him fingers over her leg in a caress.

“Well, are you just going to lie there and stare, or are you going to join me?” He blinked sleepy brown eyes at her and his grin widened.

“Want me to wash your back, Sweetheart?”

“Among other things,” she told him as she turned and headed for the bathroom. Jack laughed and vaulted off the couch to join her. She had known that would get him moving.

After a pleasant and overly long shower they got dressed and settled back on the couch to watch some Parks and Recreation, but even after two episodes Darcy’s heart wouldn’t stop racing. Jack asked me to go on a date! It’s really happening! The idea of going to a concert with him was awesome in and of itself, but then he had suggested getting food afterwards and her brain had short circuited. She hadn’t been able to resist teasing him into clarifying. She had to be sure. Maybe it was silly to be so excited about calling it a date, but it mattered! He had always been so careful when making plans with her to call it ‘hanging out’ or ‘staying over’, but now he was taking the initiative, making plans for them to publicly go out, and confirming when she had called it a date! Big Frost Giant-sized steps from the relationship-phobic man. And, she bit her lip as she remembered, he came way faster than he usually did. Was he just as excited about this as she was?

She smiled and grabbed her knitting project from the coffee table to keep her fingers busy. Jack shifted slightly to accommodate her new position while keeping an arm draped across her shoulders. He didn’t know it, but the wooly phthalo green socks she was making were for him. She wasn’t about to risk the Sweater Curse even if she did desperately want to see him wrapped in a cuddly garment that she had made just for him. She rubbed the wool between her fingers. Someday.

Darcy hummed along to the music playing from her phone as she mixed up a batch of chocolate fudge cookies with white chocolate chips.

“The weatherman is screamin’, there’s a storm coming, I can feel it…” What was it with songs that compared people to weather? She was disturbed from her jamming by Steve and Natasha coming in from the elevator, clearly having just finished sparring judging by their sweaty and disheveled appearance. Even the Black Widow did not look flawless after going a few rounds with Captain America.

“Hi Darcy! Whatcha making?”

“Hi Steve. They’re going to be cookies.”

“It looks as though you were more invested in a dance party rather than baking,” Natasha observed. Darcy shrugged, grinning.

“What can I say? I’m in a fantastic mood!” Natasha laughed and gave her a conspiratorial grin.

“Might this have something to do with the Cowboy who kept you too busy to attend our last team dinner?” Darcy snickered. The Avengers had gotten a call out on Saturday night to fight some weird chimaera things that had showed up in Hells Kitchen. Darcy had been with Jack. Jarvis had messaged her to let her know the team was Avenging and that there would be tacos to follow. Darcy had told Jarvis to alert her if any of the team were seriously injured, but that she was otherwise too occupied for tacos that night. Thor and Steve had ended up with a few scratches, but everyone was otherwise fine, which had not stopped them from teasing her when she had showed up on Sunday.

“Yeah, yeah, make your jokes. I am in a fabulous mood because Jack has finally asked me out!” She flung her hands out in excitement and some of the cookie dough clinging to the spatula she held flew off and stuck to one of the cabinets. Steve, who had certainly eaten food of more dubious sanitary standards, ate it.

“That’s great, Darce! And these cookies are gonna be fantastic!” Natasha chose to sample some dough nicked straight from the mixing bowl.

“Very tasty,” she commented. “I am happy for you. Where will you be going?”

“A concert,” Darcy sighed dreamily. “And dinner afterwards.”

“An excellent choice. You will have a good time, I’m sure.”

“Well thank goodness he’s finally getting on with it! Now we can finally call him your boyfriend and tease him about you.”

“EEERN!” Darcy made a buzzer sound as she began spooning dough onto cooking trays. “Ix-nay on the oyfriend-bay! He has a thing about labels. The date is already a big enough step for now.”

“But you guys have been hanging out for a few months now and you’re going on a date, so aren’t you dating?” Steve’s handsome face wrinkled in confusion. It made him look like a golden retriever who couldn’t find his tennis ball. Darcy just sighed. Natsha nodded.

“Modern social mores are very confusing in regards to this point. Some people would say that people who are romantically involved and in a public relationship are ‘dating’, but there are some who reject that terminology as they find it too restrictive. Modern parlance has begun to shift away from ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ also due to partly to perceptions about gender identity and queer solidarity and because some find the terms immature.” Steve shook his head.

“In my day-“

“Oh gods, here he goes.” Darcy rolled her eyes. She faked an old grandpa voice, “Back in my day-“

“But things were so much simpler!”

“Nu-uh! People have always like messing around with different terms! Going steady, walking out, courting, hooking up, going out, all kinds of stuff.”

“Yeah, but Jack should be begging to be your boyfriend and be dating you,” Steve grumbled. “You’re ridiculously good for him.”

“Aww, thanks Stevie! But shouldn’t you be saying I’m too good for him or something?”

“No, I meant that you are good for him! I met him before you two started really- uh- whatever it is- and he is different. He’s more cheerful, more talkative, looks like he actually sleeps.” Darcy flushed. She did think Jack’s general mood had improved lately, but it was nice to hear it confirmed. She deflected by making a sassy comment.

“Well, I’ve no idea about the last one, he certainly doesn’t do much sleeping when he’s with me.” She waggled her eyebrows up and down. Natasha laughed, Steve blushed and muttered about not thinking about his two friends and their private activities. “At any rate, I wouldn’t care if he wanted to call me his girlfriend or his partner, just something would be nice.” Steve and Natasha gave her mixed looks of sympathy and pity. “It’s fine, really! I knew this was going to be slow going. I think we’re making good progress.” She smiled as she fished the first sheet of cookies out of the oven. He said he likes me, likes being with me, that I make him happy. That matters way more than relationship statuses and labels.

For all that he wasn’t her boyfriend, Jack was a good one. He wasn’t great at expressing himself with words, but his actions spoke volumes. He had been there for her through the Malkovitch ordeal. He listened when she spoke and now knew her favorite takeout places and yarn stores. Every time she baked something for him his eyes got all wide and excited and he thanked her with such heartfelt gratitude that it made her want to kiss him to bits. That worked fine when they were in private, but had led to several heated looks in random breakrooms that were followed by some very spicy text exchanges at work. He brought her coffee when he knew she was having a rough day. He gave her endless cuddles and didn’t complain when she stole all the blankets. They had been watching TV on Jack’s couch one evening when Darcy complained of being cold and went to his bedroom to steal a blanket, and the next time she had come over there was a new fuzzy blue plaid blanket folded neatly over the back of the couch that she knew he had bought just for her.

It wasn’t all sunshine and roses; occasionally Jack said he was really tired and wanted a quiet night to himself, sometimes Darcy got cranky and snappish when she pulled all-nighters with Jane in the lab, and there had been a small fight about the amount of hair left in the shower drain. Jack still avoided medical attention like the plague, which drove Darcy crazy. His discomfort made more sense to her now after the whole ‘got brought back from the dead via mysterious and intensive medical procedures’ had been revealed. They hadn’t talked much more about the details of his past, but he would occasionally reference people and events from ‘before’. Darcy soaked up every detail that he gave her, resisted the urge to do research or go digging for more info, and tried to be patient when he came home bloody. On those days Darcy would sit him down in the bathroom, help clean and bandage his wounds, keep her chatter light and silly, and press a soft kiss to his temple when they were done. Later, when he was less silent and more engaged, she would chide him about going to Medical next time and kiss every bruise and cut.

They were together, that was what mattered.

“I am glad that he makes you so happy.” Darcy was pulled out of her thoughts by Natasha’s comment. She directed a beatific smile towards her and put a still-warm cookie in front of her.

“He does. I can’t believe he got Dieter and the Dolls tickets for us!” Natasha grinned slyly.

“He is a man with connections. I heard he once went undercover as a performer in the Nashville music scene to uproot a group of highly unethical music producers.” At Darcy’s begging look and offer of another cookie, Natasha continued, “I believe he plays the guitar.” Darcy groaned.

“Of course he does. Why does he have to be so damned sexy?!”

“And that’s my cue.” Steve scooped up a few cookies for the road (to the shower). “Darcy, are we still on for Friday?” They were going shopping. Steve had many events to attend as Captain America/Steve Rogers the decorated war veteran, and sometimes his formal military dress just wasn’t appropriate. Unfortunately, Steve’s artistic sense did not extend to fashion, so Darcy sometimes went shopping with him to help find clothes that didn’t make him look like someone’s grandfather. The women (and some men) of America certainly appreciated Darcy’s efforts.

“Yeah, would you mind is we did some shopping for me as well? I want something new to wear to the concert.”

“Sure! I’m sure we can find something that’ll really knock Jack’s socks off!”

Alarms were blaring all over the SHIELD building as teams scrambled to various key points in the city. Team Foxtrot and some other heavy combat teams were being sent straight to ground zero of the alien invasion. The air in the transport was tense as they listened to their comms people giving them as much information as possible. The aliens had been identified. The Sheve’ir were slightly larger than humans and had deep blue skin and grey hair. Their technology was (of course) far more advanced than Earth’s so they had created vehicles with the ability to create tiny wormholes through spacetime which they used to raid less developed civilizations for anything of value. Like Vikings of old they had come from their ships screaming and brandishing weapons that they were quick to use. The favorite seemed to spear-like weapons with superheated tips that could slice through anything and small explosives.

Jack adjusted a strap on his holster. The rest of Team Foxtrot fiddled with shotguns and sonic knockout grenades. Caruthers was even carrying a fucking sword.

“Alright. Team Foxtrot has now entered the combat zone,” announced Agent Spitz on the open channel. “Please be advised that Captain America is already on-site with other members of SHIELD."

"Copy, Spitz. I thought we were the first team to get here though?” Team Leader Aliev directed his query towards the ceiling as though Spitz were looking down on them from the distant command center.

“Confirmed. The SHIELD personnel is a civilian non-com.” All members of the team gave a little wince. “Darcy Lewis was having lunch with Captain Rogers when-“

All sound faded out, leaving Jack alone with the rushing of blood in his ears. Darcy. Darcy was there, in the middle of the invasion, in the thickest of the fighting. Darcy, who only had a little self-defense training and a taser. His Darcy.

“-close together, moving as a unit. We’ll provide support to Captain America and try to protect Lewis if we can find her. Go!” The transport had stopped and Aliev was ordering them to get moving. Everything felt too slow as adrenaline scorched Jack’s veins. McClelland was to his right while Takeda was just ahead of him. Smoke and concrete dust hung thick in the air and there were already bodies in the street, most likely civilians who had been killed in the first rush of the Sheve’ir attack. Was one of those bodies hers? Broken and bloody on the rough asphalt, cut down as she tried to run away-

No! Darcy wasn’t gone. She couldn’t be.

Aliev engaged a Sheve’ir dressed in some kind of protective gear not dissimilar from riot police with more medieval looking helmets. It took Aliev four shots to hit something vital enough to make the Sheve’ir stop charging them. The other team members joined in, but it still took a second before the alien fell only 8 feet short of their position. His spear fell with a clang, and the molten red tip fizzled and died.

Darcy’s taser would be useless against these things.

A Sheve’ir rushed at him from his left. Jack’s body responded to the threat automatically, dodging the spear tip and firing point blank at a small gap in the amor created by the alien’s movements. It dropped. Jack must have hit a major organ or artery. The blood was almost magenta in color and Jack had to step around the growing pool to take aim at a Sheve’ir attacking Takeda. Half of Takeda’s rifle was missing, sheared off by the spear tip, and Takeda was dancing with the alien to avoid that spear melting flesh instead. Jack threw one of his smallest knives. It bounced off the metal helmet, but it had the desired effect of distracting the Sheve’ir and making it turn towards Jack. That moment of inattention allowed Takeda enough time to grab his own long bladed combat knife and bury it in its neck.

Jack moved through the combat like a machine, his mind too consumed with images of Darcy lying dead amongst the rubble. The other team members spoke on the comms, offering opponents’ weak points and battle tactics, but Jack was silent. He felt as though if he opened his mouth a scream might come out. He wanted to run and keep running until he found her, but he couldn’t. His team was depending on him. He would not make a mistake again. He would never betray them. And she would never want him to.

He accrued injuries as they pressed closer to the portal, they all did, and Jack welcomed the way the pain sharpened his mind, forcing him to focus on the here and now. Darcy could still be alive. She was smart. Maybe she had found somewhere safe to hole up and hide. As soon as the thought occurred he dismissed it. Darcy would never consider herself brave or heroic like her friends, but she would never be able to sit idly by and watch people be hurt, and it would get her killed out here. He shot a Sheve’ir off of a civie who was screaming and kicking on the sidewalk. Jack peeled the man off the pavement and gave him a shove to get him running in the right direction. If Darcy were here, she might have had something calming and encouraging to tell the man, but she was gone, and Jack would be alone again.

I never told her. I wanted to. I tried to show her how much she meant to me. But I never told her I loved her. Never said the words. Coward. Fucking Coward! His movements grew angry and vicious, losing some of their usual pinpoint accuracy. I kept pretending that we were keeping to the arrangement when neither one of us wanted it! How many times had she shown him that it wasn’t just about sex? How many cookies had she baked him, injuries she had bandaged, kisses freely given without a care who might see? We were going to go on our first date tomorrow.

A slight break in the fighting allowed them to huddle up against a building and grab some quick sips of water and reload. Aliev was looking at a heat map of the fighting. Caruthers was cleaning his sword. McClelland snapped a finger in front of Jack’s face.

“I said, can you spare a knife? I’m out.” His light brown hair was slicked close to his head with sweat and his blue eyes stood out against the red blood leaking down his face from a gash on his cheek. Jack tried to open him mouth and speak but no sound came out. He bent down and fumbled at his leg holster, handing McClelland one of larger knives mutely.

“You good, man?” Jack stared fuzzily at the blood on the other man’s face. Darcy’s blood would be that color when he finally found her. He saw her face gone too pale for life, speckled with drops of ruby red, and her grey-blue eyes staring sightlessly back at him. He shuddered and wiped at hand over his own face, smearing blood and sweat and god knew what else.

“Daniels, McClelland, problem?” asked Aliev. McClelland shrugged. Jack winced. It was a liability to have someone as distracted as him in combat, but could they afford to bench him right now?

“Any word about SHIELD casualties?” he croaked. Takeda shoved a bottle of water at him and Jack drank automatically.

“A few confirmed. Losses haven’t been heavy though. The Avengers are deployed and other agencies have been good about coordination efforts.”

“What about Lewis?”

“Darcy Lewis? No word.” Jack shuddered. Surely someone would have found her by now if she was up and evacuating. If she were still alive. God bless Aliev, there was a reason he was a team leader; he saw on Jack’s face something that told him exactly what the problem was. “Oh,” he said softly. The other men jerked round at that and looked between the two, searching and finding the same understanding that Aliev had reached. They were all silent for a moment. Shouts and weapons fire echoed strangely against the buildings around them.

“We can press harder,” stated Caruthers. “We’re not far now from her last reported location.” The agents all looked to Aliev.

“The fighting is thickest there, and there’s more chance of getting caught in friendly fire from the Avengers.” A determined gleam filled Aliev’s dark eyes. “Good thing we’re a heavy combat squad.” Jack stared in shock. There was no need to hurry if Darcy was dead. Aliev had been with SHIELD for 15-some-odd years and had been through all this shit before, so if he thought there was a chance… The tiny ray of hope scared him more than anything he had seen that day.

He felt at his hip for his specially modified gun that Doctor Libitz had fixed up for him. It shot rounds that detonated milliseconds after contact, giving the bullets enough time to enter a target before exploding with the force of a small grenade. Anything he shot was going down. In his other hand he clenched his whip, the one he had sat at his kitchen table carefully maintaining while Darcy sat across from him knitting as they listened to music together.

Aliev whistled, “I think we’ll have you upfront this time.” He and the others had seen Jack use both his whip and explosive rounds to devastating effect. “Let’s go get Lewis. I’ll take rear.”

The fighting was different this time. Jack pounded their invaders with all the fear and rage in his body and never let their forward momentum lag. He bent all his years of combat experience into the singular goal of making it to the plaza where Darcy had been. His team fought beside him like demons and they battered their way through the concrete hellscape.

The plaza was trashed. A hotdog cart overturned, newspapers and food strewn everywhere, formerly charming shops with windows shattered, ornamental bushes trampled under many feet, pieces of cars and buildings tossed about like children’s toys, and bodies everywhere. The portal that the Sheve’ir had come through was a glowing disc of cerulean blue hovering 10 feet above the ground. He took cover behind an upside-down Mazda as a blaze of light streaked through the air to hit a squad of Sheve’ir. Iron Man’s energy weapons were highly effective against the aliens but had no effect on the portal. Jack took aim at one who had avoided Stark’s blast and squeezed off a round. The Sheve’ir fell in a spray of purple blood. Jack heard an echoing roar and saw a blur of green tear a new hole through a building. The Hulk was also here. Stark was too busy zooming around to answer questions and Banner was not very friendly in this form, and neither was the one who could tell Jack what he needed to know.

They skirted the perimeter of the plaza, encountering plenty of Sheve’ir but few humans, living or dead. A whirling metal shield smacked into the head an alien just before Takeda could shoot it. Caruthers moved in and finished it off while it was stunned. Captain America’s shield bounced back into the hands of its owner. Jack was on him before he could consider the wisdom of grabbing the veteran during a fight. He seized Steve’s sleeve, dropping his whip to do so. The blond man turned to look down at him. He wasn’t wearing his combat gear and there was a shallow cut running through the top of his hair and the tan leather jacket he wore was speckled with blood of different colors.

“Steve! Where is she?!” Jack’s voice was harsh and desperate. He had to know and he had to know now before that tiny shimmer of hope grew any bigger. Steve was a shit liar. If she was gone, it would be written in the man’s open and honest face. Steve did the last thing Jack expected and smiled at him.

“She was on the western edge when I saw her three minutes ago.” Jack stumble back, releasing him.

“She’s alive?” he rasped, his breath coming in uneven gulps. Steve nodded. Jack broke and ran. He was past caring what injuries he sustained or how many broken pieces of rubble he had to scramble over, nothing mattered now but getting to Darcy. He could tell the team was following him by the gunshots in his wake. He was going too fast to bother with dispatching opponents and they didn’t matter anymore except as obstacles to be dodged.

 Jack crossed the plaza in under a minute and frantically began scanning any patch of cover for the sight of Darcy. The world slowed to a crawl as he finally laid eyes on her. She was, of course, not where she was supposed to be (sensibly hiding) but out in plain view hobbling over the broken ground as she supported a teenager with a broken leg. She was covered in blood and concrete dust like the rest of them, but Jack though she had never looked more beautiful.

Chapter Text

The first sign that Darcy’s peaceful shopping trip with Steve was going to hell in a handbasket was a weird buzzing sound that only he could hear.

“I’m serious, Darce, it sounds like a giant refrigerator humming.” He rubbed ineffectually at his ear and looked around again for the source of the noise. Darcy sipped at her coffee completely unconcerned. They were in the middle of NYC; weird noises happened all the time. Today had been a great success. Steve had gotten a new pair of shoes and a few new shirts in colors other than blue and white. Darcy had found a very pretty off the shoulder sweater dress that was going to drive Jack crazy. Their mission accomplished, they had seated themselves at one of the outdoor patio tables and ordered overpriced coffee from the café. The November air was chilly, the coffee was hot, and some incredibly fat pigeons were strutting around like they owned the plaza. It had been a very nice day.

“It must be something outside the average human hearing range then because I don’t hear anything weird.” Steve nodded still looking disgruntled. The problem became a lot more serious than Steve’s itchy ears when a blade of light cut a hole through the air in the center of the plaza. Darcy and several other people yelled as the hole expanded. Steve only sighed and cursed. The superhero reached into the odd circular duffle bag that accompanied him everywhere and brought out his shield.

“I’ll call it in,” Darcy told him as she pulled out her phone to alert the agency. Aliens carrying large, unfriendly looking spears dropped through the portal.

“You’ve got your taser, right?” Darcy hummed an acknowledgment as people began screaming.

“I’ll be fine. Focus on those guys.”

“Everyone! Please evacuate this area!” Steve shouted in perfect drill sergeant impersonation. He dashed up to one of the aliens and tried to speak to them – good ol’ Steve trying to politely ask the aliens not to invade- and was nearly stabbed for his trouble. Darcy finished her alert text, put her phone in her pocket, and powered up her taser. Tony had given her an upgrade since the Malkovitch incident. It now had a ‘bear/elephant/alien’ setting that Tony promised her would fry even the toughest opponents. Darcy watched for a moment as the large blue skinned aliens tried to stab her friend. Meanwhile Steve’s vibranium shield seemed to be holding up well against the melty (possibly laser powered?) super-heated spear tips. She felt a shiver of anxiety well up in her stomach, just as it did every time she had to watch one of her friends fight. She usually didn’t have such a front row seat though. She shoved the anxiety into a tiny ball in the corner of her mind and told herself she’d deal with it later. She needed to move. Now.

Darcy spun into action, yelling at people to drop everything and run. She wasn’t a fighter and would only get in Steve’s way, but damn could she yell! People being people had whipped out their cell phones to record videos instead of recognizing the danger. Darcy gave these people hearty shoves to get them moving.

“Internet fame’s no good if you’re dead!” she hollered at a complaining teenaged boy. One of the aliens picked up a heavy wrought iron patio table and hurled it through a store window not ten feet from them, nicely illustrating her point. Glass flew and alarms went off. The alien stomped over and began snatching jewelry from the store display and shoving it into his pockets. Darcy tapped the kid on the shoulder again as they stood frozen in shock.

“Go now, she whispered. She pointed to one of the smaller alleyways that led out the larger road. The kid ran like the wind, glass crunching under his feet. She dabbed at a cut on her cheek and moved on to the next stunned group of lollygaggers.

Around the square chaos was spreading. Aliens were now arriving in vehicles like big floating trucks and driving off into other parts of the city. The ones already on the ground were either fighting Steve or running around stealing and destroying things. Unusual. Alien invaders usually go for wholesale destruction and conquest. Then she remembered a report from a Japanese scientist who was studying wormholes like Jane who had witnessed a small alien raid three months ago. Those aliens had also been blue skinned, carrying spears, and intent on taking anything of value. No such thing as coincidences.

“Jarvis!” She yelled into her phone. “Three months ago, report from Doctor Yuhei about blue aliens in Japan!” Steve must have made one of the aliens really mad because one of their ships tried to blow him up. A portion of the plaza was now smoking rubble and one of the buildings was missing key bits. Steve must have dodged it because he was already up and using his shield like a boomerang.

“I found the report, Darcy. Doctor Foster had Prince Thor take a look to get his expert opinion. Prince Thor believes they are a people called the Sheve’ir, who routinely raid less technologically advanced civilizations.”

“Good!” Darcy let out a shriek and dodged as one of the aliens swiped at her with a spear, its glowing tip carving straight through lamppost she had been standing by. “Tell SHIELD they’re here! I don’t suppose they have any special weaknesses?!”

“I’m afraid not, as far as Prince Thor was aware. I have directed the report to SHIELD’s intelligence analysts. Is there anything else I can do?”

“Yeah, tell everyone to hurry up and get here before Stevie gets his ass kicked!”

“I shall. Please remain unharmed.” The line went dead and Darcy broke into a run to shake off the alien who had taken a swing at her. It worked for a few seconds as she jinked and dodged around obstacles, but the other being was bigger and faster. It swung at her again and Darcy detected the stink of burning hair and heard the sizzle of the spear tip passing too close to her head.

“Hey!” she yelped. “Getting a haircut was not on the agenda for today! I’ve got a date tomorrow you asshole!” The alien, not speaking English, roared something back at her that was probably something along the lines of ‘stand still and let me carve you up’. Darcy abruptly changed directions and swung into a crouch behind a hotdog stand. The alien was exposed for a moment as it rounded the corner and didn’t see her. Darcy’s taser hit center mass and let off enough charge to stop a bear. The alien went down with a screech and lay twitching on the pavement. She didn’t stick around to appreciate her badassery and took off again.

A man nearby was screaming like a dying animal. She squinted through the smoke and the dust to find him lying by the men’s shoe store where they had bought Steve’s new motorcycle boots less than an hour ago. The man’s arm was clearly broken, possibly by a piece of flying masonry, and he was just sitting in the middle of the sidewalk screaming. The second Darcy got to him she clapped her hand over his mouth.

“Hi!” she said brightly. “I know that must hurt like a bitch, but you’ve got to shut up before one of those aliens comes to make you shut up.” His hazel eyes widened and the scream subsided into a whine.

“My arm…”

“Yeah, not gonna lie, that’s broken. Hmm.” Darcy took off her scarf and used an errant shoebox that had been abandoned to make a splint. The scarf wasn’t long enough to secure the splint and make a sling, so she helped the man wedge the end of fingers between the buttons of his peacoat. “Okay, that’s as good as we’re getting. Can you stand? Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Just- just the arm- I think.” She helped him up. A squad of invaders was headed in their direction.

“Odin’s balls,” she cursed. “C’mon, this way!” She pulled him into the shoe store, an old fashion bell tinkling merrily overhead to announce their arrival. The place was deserted. Perfect. “Looks like everyone ran off. That means they’ve probably got a back door.” They found a cleaning supply closet, and a back office before they found their exit. It led to a dirty, stinking alleyway. “There you go now, scram!” She gave him a gentle push as she held the door open for him. He grabbed at her with his good arm.

“Miss! Aren’t you coming too?”

“No. My friend is back there alone. I can’t leave him.” She could. Steve would probably want her to. Fighting weird Avatar Vikings was not in her skillset. But I can help other people get away. I’ve definitely got experience with that!

“You’re crazy!” She grinned after him as he headed down the alley.

“No, I’m Darcy Fucking Lewis!” She called after him.

The aliens they had run from seemed to have found nothing to interest them in the shoes store and gone elsewhere. Darcy reemerged into the plaza and began to cautiously roam. She had made it a few storefronts down when she found another person huddling behind a car, frozen in fear. She snapped them out of it and pushed them into an upscale women’s clothing store where three other people cowering. An alien transport ship roared overhead.

“He-llo! Why aren’t you people running out the back door?” Darcy demanded as they knelt behind the cash registers.

“We tried,” whispered a beautiful blond woman with mascara tracks running down her cheeks. “It’s locked or blocked.” Darcy cursed and went to try it herself. Yep, not happening. This would be a great time for Hulk to come busting in. The universe didn’t give a fuck about her prayers or curses and no one came busting in to save the day. America’s star-spangled man with a plan was busy at the moment, so Darcy was all these people had.

“Alright, new plan. We’ve got to leave through the front. Anyone know the closest way to get out of the plaza?”

“I-” started a young woman as she raised a hand like they were in class.

“No! We can’t go out there! We’ll all be killed! It’s much safer to stay put,” shrilled an older woman in a blazer.

“Lady, all it takes is one female alien who decides she wants a lovely new silk blouse to take home from her hard day of pillaging and you are screwed!” Darcy hissed at her. “You’re sitting ducks in here! And those aliens aren’t being gentle on the buildings either; you could get trapped in here with the building coming down on top of you! Better to go out there, make a run for it and get as far from this part of the city as you can.” The young woman who had raised her hand nodded in agreement.

“Two stores down is a side street that runs parallel to the plaza, and that side street has a bunch of alleys that lead out to the bigger street where I parked my car.”

“Perfect. Everyone follow her.” Darcy stood and went to the window, peering out at the carnage from behind a mannequin in slinky evening dress. They waited for moment when none of the aliens were headed in their direction. Darcy signaled and they all ran silently out. Their luck held until they hit the side street which had two aliens in it. The quiet person that Darcy had pulled from behind a car started screaming, grabbed a trashcan, and hurled it at them. It appeared that the aliens were shocked by the unconventional weaponry and cringed back against the wall. The women ran past them screaming like banshees, disappearing around the corner. Darcy snickered. The aliens roared.  Darcy roared back at them and sprinted back into the plaza. They gave chase.

Darcy was forced to run through the scarred and debris filled center of the plaza as the pair of invaders pursued her. As she was scrambling over a bunch of wet stones that might once have been a fountain, something grabbed her ankle and yanked hard. Darcy screeched and kicked back with her other foot, feeling a meaty crunch as she connected, but she had sacrificed her purchase and slid down the wet stone incline towards the two growling Sheve’ir. The one holding her foot was now clutching at his bloody nose. The other raised his spear. She saw the blow coming and twisted wildly like a caught fish. The spear edge sliced through layers of wool and cotton, then flesh and stone. She screamed as it grazed her side, cutting, burning, sizzling. She smelled blood and smoke and scrabbled desperately to get away. Her hand landed on a chunk of stone and she bashed it at the hand that held her captive. Her ankle throbbed with the force of the blow as the alien yelled and released her.

She rolled, falling off the edge of her tiny mountain and hitting the ground hard, but she picked herself up and ran again. Her heart pounded in her ears but she could still hear them clattering over the broken ground behind her. Darcy’s knees were bloody, her ankle ached, her side felt like it was on fire, and she felt like she had been running for hours. People (Steve, Nat, Clint) had always told her that the body was a surprising thing, that when stressed it was capable of surpassing whatever limits the mind put on it, but those people were heroes in top physical condition and Darcy was a lab manager with mad computer skills and a penchant for baking. Unfortunately, marathon weekends of sex with Jack did not count towards running an actual marathon. Darcy was done. She hated running and had had just about enough of it!

She dropped to the ground and log rolled under a parked delivery truck. Panting, she pulled her taser and waited. One of the Sheve’ir knelt and reached under the truck, their larger frames preventing them from copying her. Easy as pie. She tased with glee. The alien collapsed with a screech and his buddy dragged him away.

Darcy waited in the shadows, listening to her own breath and the battle going on outside. She waited what felt like forever, but the aliens didn’t try to grab her again. Where were they?  Her shelter and the newly roughened terrain limited her field of vision. She swiveled warily, wondering if something was going to grab her from behind in classic horror movie fashion, but all her scuttling only proved that the immediate area around the truck was free of feet.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Dary wiped away a frustrated tear. Were those assholes going to make her wait?

Then she heard a familiar sound: The thrumming of Iron Man’s repulsers. Darcy thumped the ground in exhilaration. Finally, the fucking cavalry has arrived! And now that she wasn’t panicking as hard, she could pick out the sounds of gunfire. Local law enforcement or SHIELD? SHIELD and the Avengers could totally handle these guys!

Darcy patted down her side, exploring the rent in her coat and shirt. Her wound was small and not deep, but it hurt like nothing else she’d ever experienced. Like every experienced baker, she’d burned or cut herself a dozen times, but never both at once on the same spot.

“At least I’m not bleeding everywhere,” she muttered to herself. “How nice of them to cauterize it for me! Bet that’s gonna leave a mark.” I’ll have a scar like one of Jack’s.

Oh gods, Jack! He’d be somewhere on the city streets, deployed to fight the raiders. He was one of best shots in SHIELD. His fighting style was absolutely nuts. Darcy would bet on Jack’s whip, guns, and knives against the assholes with the spears any day. He’ll be okay. He’s strong as hell and he’s got a good team to back him now. He will be fine, he has to be, we’re going on our first real date tomorrow.

The desperate, pitiful thought made Darcy snort. They might have to reschedule that date. Oh well, they could lay very still in bed together, eat ice cream, and compare battle scars. She wasn’t naïve enough to think he’d come out of this perfectly unscathed. But this time he might have to be my nurse for once. Jack would be good at that. Whatever he lacked in communication, he usually made up for with excellent instincts and a downright freaky intuition. Jack was able to guess or use his spy skills to figure out the exact flavor of ice cream the situation demanded and go to the ends of the earth to get it. He’s take great care of her when this was over.

But in order to laze around eating ice cream with Jack she would have to get out from under the fucking truck. The irritating duo still hadn’t come back to try to finish her off. It was possible they had moved on to easier prey. It was also possible they were lying in wait just out of sight waiting for her. Well fuck ‘em. Darcy had home-team advantage and much cooler friends. She could call Jarvis and very humbly request that Iron Man provide backup and evac. She’d done enough for her fellow New Yorkers and now it was time to call it quits. She groped in the pocket of her ruined coat and fished out her phone.

It was melted and cracked. When the spear had sliced through a bit of her side it had also nicked her phone. Not even an industrial strength teal and purple otterbox case had been enough to protect it. The screen didn’t so much as flicker and the smell of burning plastic mocked her.

Darcy filled the air with curse words, using every language could until her brain ran dry and she was breathless again. She sniffled. No one to blame but yourself, dumbass! You could have run but oh no! Darcy Fucking Lewis doesn’t leave her friends behind! Darcy Fucking Lewis fucking forgets that her friends are a lot fucking tougher than she is and can take more than one hit before they start calling in air evacs!

She had gotten herself into this and she would have to pull her stupid, slightly crispy and bloody self out of it.

Chapter Text

Darcy took off her coat, shirt, and tank top in a gymnastic feat that Natasha would have been proud of, then she used a jagged bit of metal on the truck’s undercarriage to cut and tear her tank top into strips. She wrapped a few strips over her brand new war wound and assessed her other injuries: none were serious, just painful. She even had a few strips of bandaging left over. She redressed and tucked it into her undamaged coat pocket. Another shuffling sweep of the surrounding landscape offered up no views of any feet, friend or foe, so she rolled out from under the truck and took cover behind a large overturned trashcan.

Little had changed during her brief reprieve. She caught sight of a flash of blue and white hurtling through the air and knew Steve wouldn’t be far from his shield. She heard more than saw evidence of Tony’s presence as well. She wondered if the other Avengers had arrived or if they were in other parts of the city dealing with the chaos. Her options were to try to approach Steve in the middle of a battle (terrible idea), wave her arms in the air to try to attract Tony’s attention (even worse), or she could head towards the gunfire she could hear and hope that whoever was shooting would at least be able to tell her what direction to run in. The portal had been open long enough for hundreds of the Sheve’ir to come through and the nearby streets would be just as dangerous as the square, and that was assuming there were no other portals.

Taser in hand she began to pick her way around the plaza again. It was hard to pinpoint the direction of the nearest gunfire what with all the other battle sounds and how everything was echoing off the tall buildings. Listening hard, she picked up something else: a strangled moan. There was a big chunk of building beside her that had become abruptly divorced from the rest of the structure (Darcy was guessing Tony was to blame, but who could really say at this point) and fallen on a car. There was glass, pretzeled rebar, and broken concrete everywhere. Darcy’s boots crunched as she explored the destruction. She ducked as a squad of Sheve’ir ran past and stepped on something soft.  Darcy squeaked in surprise and stared down at the hand sticking out of the rubble. The person groaned again.

“Fuck! Sorry!” Darcy hissed frantically as she shifted off the flesh she had stepped on.

“H..help,” the person whispered.

“Yeah! Of course!” Darcy began to dig, picking up chunks of concrete to reveal an arm and shoulder. The piece of building had hit the car and slid sideways, forming the world’s newest cave. A teenaged boy was lying in precarious shelter, clearly having narrowly avoided being squashed like a bug. He couldn’t have been older than 17 and had floppy brown hair falling out of its gelled style.

“Hey there. I’m Darcy.”

“I’m Carson.”

“Carson, where are you hurt?” She did her best to keep her voice calm and quiet even as a weapon blast went off far too close by.

“It’s my leg. It’s pinned! I can’t get loose!” Darcy squirmed into the space beside him to get a better look. One of his scrawny legs was wedged under a large rock. Oh shit. Not good. Even if she got him free there was no telling how badly his leg had been crushed and how much it would bleed once it wasn’t under pressure. Really, no one but an emergency worker with proper medical supplies should be moving him. But I can’t leave him under here! The rubble could shift and crush him! The Sheve’ir could find him and decide they’d like a human pet to take back home! It’s too dangerous for us to stay here and I’m not leaving him behind!

Darcy inwardly cursed herself. If they got out of this, she was going to take a bunch of first aid and trauma classes. Hels, maybe even paramedic training. Gods knew she would use it.

“Eir help me,” she muttered. “Okay Carson, once I start moving stuff around it’s going to hurt a lot more, but you can’t scream, yeah? Those aliens are everywhere. Gimme your jacket.” He wore a zip-up hoodie that he obediently struggled out of. He wore a vintage style Star Wars t-shirt underneath. Darcy struggled ineffectually for a minute as she tried to get the concrete off of Carson. It wiggled and lifted, but it was too heavy.

“Be right back,” she told him as she moved to crawl out.

“Where are you going?” He demanded plaintively.

“It’s too heavy, I need some kind of lever to move it. Don’t worry, I’m not abandoning you!” She grabbed the first bit of straight rebar she found and ducked back inside. It was a little roomier than her truck shelter, but not by much. She wiggled the rebar under the crushing stone and pulled as hard as she could. It took a minute of undignified huffing and puffing before Carson was able to pull his leg free. The poor kid whimpered and went white as a sheet at the sight of all the blood. Darcy bandaged his leg as tightly as she could using his jacket and her leftover shirt strips.

“Good job, Carson. Now we’re gonna get out of here. Let’s head for nearest humans with guns we can find. Just hold tight to me, okay?” She and Carson crawled out and took to the field with Carson’s arm slung over her shoulder. Luckily, they were of a height so that they made a respectable three-legged team. They hobbled through the chaos. People and Sheve’ir were shouting, sirens blaring, and the roar of the Sheve’ir ships reverberated through the plaza like thunder. Something or someone sent a Sheve’ir flying without a ship to skid across their path. Carson squawked in shock. Darcy let out a tiny yip and tased the being as it tried to scramble upright. It went down and stayed down. Darcy pulled Carson back into motion and they swerved to avoid the new roadblock.

“Superheroes, so inconsiderate when they’re trying to save the city!” Darcy snarked. Carson snorted, which she took as a win.

A minute or two later she felt eyes on them and she glanced around, desperately hoping it was paranoia and not a Sheve’ir platoon bearing down on them. Her eyes found a man who was standing very still in clouds of dust and gun smoke.

“Jack,” she breathed.

Even here he was still wearing the fucking cowboy hat. He looked too good to be real, standing with a gun in one hand and a whip in the other like Indiana-Fucking-Jones. Darcy had a wild thought that next Halloween she was going to make him wear a costume and drag him to a party to show him off before taking him home to ravish him. It was a silly thought to be having in the middle of an alien invasion, but it had long been noted that Dary didn’t always react to things in a logical manner. It was comforting. Relief swept through her, making even the tips of toes go momentarily numb with a sense of weightlessness.

“Jack!” she yelled as she redirected their course to head straight for him.

“Who?” demanded Carson. She was too breathless to answer. It was going to be okay. Jack would be able to get her and Carson somewhere safe. He wouldn’t let another Sheve’ir harm so much as a hair on her head. She knew it in the marrow of her bones.

Jack was running towards them, something savage and desperate in his face. Oh, I’m really in for it, she though dreamily. Sweet man is probably pissed as hell that I didn’t evacuate sooner. Ah well, he can read me the riot act all he likes as long as he holds me while he does it. I just really want a hug right now!

A loud grating screech and ominous rumble filled the air above them. Darcy froze instinctively and looked up. One of the buildings had finally taken too much damage and was coming down nearly on top of them (maybe it was even the building that crushed Carson’s leg coming to finish him off), but no, Darcy could tell that it would fall just in front of them.

And straight on to Jack! She had time to find Jack’s eyes one last time. He was still running towards her, faster than she had ever seen him move, but it still wasn’t fast enough. His lips formed her name. Darcy screamed and reached out a hand futilely as the building came down on Jack.

The ground shook and debris filled the air. Darcy and Carson were knocked off their feet and sent sprawling. There was so much dust everywhere that it made it hard to breath. It flooded Darcy’s mouth and choked her. Bits of building rained down around them, creating new bruises and cuts. But those small pains were nothing to the feeling of Darcy’s heart being run though a shredder. Finally, things settled and Darcy was able to raise herself to hands and knees. Carson was still curled into a trembling ball beside her. She stared in horror at the place where Jack had been standing moments ago and found a wall. No ordinary man could have survived that. Possibly no superhuman either.  Jack was gone.

Darcy began to shake. She slumped back onto her knee, no longer bothering to reach for something that wasn’t there. A terrible black numbness filled her head. GONE. GONE. GONE! She would never get that dressing down, or that hug, or their first date. No more kisses and smirks and soft brown eyes. Never again.

There was blood on her hands and knees and tears streaking down her face causing tiny cuts to sting. Her wrenched ankle ached while her side throbbed. A list of things wrong with her spooled out like error codes in a program. Everything hurt. A raw scream forced its way out of her throat. It echoed off the ruins in front her in a mockingbird distortion that no longer sounded human.  Darcy wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed hard, trying to keep from shaking herself apart and prevent any more wretched sounds from escaping her.

Somone put a hand on her shoulder.

“Darcy? Who… who was that? Did you know that guy?” Carson. He was up and talking. Darcy wished he wasn’t. She wished she wasn’t. She wished the building had fallen on her too.

“He’s my-my-“ her voice was so rough it almost cut the air. How could she sum up Jack? A friend? A guy from work? Her almost -but-never-was boyfriend? “He was mine,” she sobbed. Hers to kiss, and hug, and send funny gifs, and bake cookies for, and curl up next to on the couch as they debated what sitcom to watch. Hers to love.

Carson made soothing noises at her and patted her shoulder awkwardly. There was no way he could understand and Darcy didn’t have the words to explain it to him. He was a stranger who had no idea what it meant. Just some kid Darcy had met 10 minutes ago. A kid. Right. A kid that she had pulled out of the rubble with a smashed-up leg. How was that leg? It would be so fucking annoying if she had gotten him out only for him to die of blood loss. He was her responsibility. It forced her mind to focus on something, anything else other than the Jack-sized hole in the universe.

“How’s y-your leg-g?” she forced herself to stutter out. Her tongue felt thick. She spat a few times to try to get the dust out, but it couldn’t help with the awful black fog of nothingness inside her head.

“It hurts, like before. A chunk of something hit my shoulder.” Darcy mutely turned him and began checking him over. They had been lucky, very lucky. Darcy tried to dredge up some gratitude but could find none. They were still injured, in a combat zone, and their path to aid had just been cut off. Darcy made herself get up. They were too exposed and vulnerable to a Sheve’ir attack out here. They needed to get moving. Get Carson to safety. Then you can fall apart. You can wail and scream all you want to then.

She still couldn’t stop shaking. Her grip on Carson was much weaker now, and she leaned on him as much as he leaned on her.

“C’mon,” she mumbled. “We’ll have to go around.”

Jack was running, faster than he thought his tired legs could go because a building was coming down right on top of them and the only thing he can focus on is getting to Darcy, but he felt something hit his back and he was abruptly yanked off his feet and flying back through the air, away from Darcy and out from under the mountain of steel and concrete that came crashing down milliseconds too late to kill him. Jack flew through the air, careening into to something soft that made an “oof” sound when he hit. Arms caught and pulled him further back away from his death. McClelland and Caruthers had him.

“Fuck! That was too close!” snarled Takeda from somewhere behind him.

“But he’s still in one piece.” The voice was young, not a member of Team Foxtrot. Jack straightened shakily and gave Caruthers a grateful pat on the shoulder. A figure in red and blue spandex stood beside Aliev.

“What…”

“Hi Agent Daniels! Nice to see you again! I should really get back out there!” The superhero flicked their wrist, a thin bit of white thread spooled away into the distance, and Jack realized it was webbing. The web caught on another building and Spiderman swung away as elegantly as any acrobat in a circus. Jack touched the back of his jacket where something had hit him to find that it was slightly sticky.

“That guy just appeared out of nowhere when the building started to go down, shot that web stuff at you, and pulled you out just in the nick of time, like a yo-yo.” McClelland told him.

“Oh.” It was really the only response he could give to coming within seconds of being turned into hamburger. His brain felt disjointed and muddled. He looked back at the pile of rubble that almost became his tomb, then he remembered why he had been running in the first place.

“Darcy,” he whispered hoarsely.

"We don’t know.”

Every injury Jack had taken in getting to the plaza has decided to make itself known. It felt as if he had been fighting all day, not an hour. He stared at the enormous obstacle that had slammed down between him and Darcy. There was a chance. She might not be under all that. If she avoided being crushed then she’d be stuck on the other side. He needed to get to her.

“-be stupid, McClelland! We can’t go over the top! Who knows how stable it is, not to mention any live wires, and presenting a big, fat target to any Sheve’ir!”

“We don’t have the gear for it,” Aliev states firmly. “Going around may seem less direct but it’s safer.”

“And we’ll have to backtrack! Jack’s girl is over there!”  They were arguing about the best way to get to Darcy. That jolted some of the fuzzy shock out of his head. He fished around and pulled out an almost empty bottle of water. He finished it. It tasted like copper. He’d probably cut the inside of his mouth at some point.

“Listen, I-“He’d been about to tell them that they should get back to the mission and leave him to find Darcy on his own when a Sheve’ir popped its head around a pile of rubble. Jack shot it twice dead center of the forehead and Aliev’s shots were only a second behind his. The team stared for a moment at the downed combatant before snapping to attention and reforming into a proper squad.

“We backtrack, find Lewis and any other civilians, and get them to safety. Clear?”

“Clear!” The team answered Aliev in one voice. No one said that they should focus on fighting the Sheve’ir and forget Darcy, or contact headquarters and ask for new orders, they were with Jack all the way to the end. He didn’t have to ask them. Teammates backed each other up. He hadn’t had that in a long time, that unwavering loyalty and trust. They’ll guard his back today and Jack will guard theirs tomorrow. And Jack is buying them all a round of beers when this thing is over.

They fell back the way they’d come. Some new Sheve’ir tried to give them trouble but they handled it. Jack had lost his whip when the building fell, so now he fought with a gun and a long knife. Caruthers claimed one of the fallen enemy’s spears and figured out how to turn it off so that he could carry it safely strapped to his back. He liked odd weaponry. Jack thought he’d like the Khukri knife he’d picked up in Nepal a few years back: something for them to discuss over beer later.

Spitz commed them to say that the scientists had come up with a way to force the portals closed and were deploying it via Iron Man. Jack would bet 50 buck that Jane Foster had a hand in that. Now they’d only have to worry about the Sheve’ir that had already crossed to Earth, rather than an unending stream of reinforcements. It was good news, but it didn’t have the same effect on Jack that it did on the other members of Team Foxtrot. He heard Aliev tell Spitz in return that they had made contact with Captain America, seen Spiderman, and are currently enroute to Darcy Lewis’s last known position. Aliev didn’t tell headquarters that a building had come down on top of that position and they don’t know if their mission objective is still support and rescue or corpse retrieval. He couldn’t think about that though. If Jack lets himself think about that then he will lose his shit. She is Darcy-Fucking-Lewis. She’s survived aliens and supervillains, and befriended some of the most dangerous people on the planet, including him; she won’t be taken down by a chunk of falling rock.

Darcy wished she had been taken out by a chunk of falling rock. It would have been so much easier if at some point during all of her running around trying to help, she had gotten a knock on the head that took her out of the game. She could have been blithely unconscious and unable to see Jack die. Would that make it better? Not seeing? Well, she’d have been unable to make a choice about it. That was the thing that drove her fucking nuts; she had to keep making choices. North or south around this pile of rubble? Right leg or left leg stepping forward? Wipe off her face or just accept that she was going to keep crying and get it wet again anyway? Try to hide from that Sheve’ir raider or tase them?

TASE THEM

The being was clearly distracted by something behind it as it ran forward, almost colliding with Darcy and Carson, before Darcy tagged it and stepped to the side letting its own momentum carry it past them. Compared to everything else she had done today, it felt as slick and easy as microwaving a pizza pocket.

“Oh dang! I didn’t know your lady was such a badass, Daniels!” Who the fuck? Darcy jerked her head up to see several heavily armed men arrive at a trot. In their midst was…

Darcy made a guttural choking sound. Jack shoved past the other men. Darcy let go of Carson and sprinted the last few steps to collide with the bloody and dirty, but very much alive Jack Daniels.

“Darcy, Darcy, Darcy,” Jack was chanting as he wrapped his arms around her. Darcy sobbed at the familiar twang of his accent and the reassuring weight of his arms around her back. He was alive! And he was here, with her! “I gotcha, Sweetheart. It’s okay.” He smelled like copper and sulphur and sweat and Jack. He was warm, hot from running and fighting, and he felt like a summer sun against Darcy’s cheek. She burrowed into his neck, tired of adventure and ready to be safe and warm. He put a hand to her head and wound his fingers into her hair as though he never intended to let her go again. His other arm was wrapped securely around her waist, holding her up. Darcy wasn’t sure when she had lost control of her knees, but it wasn’t surprising. She felt lightheaded from so much stress and then relief that her fingers shook where they grasped Jack’s back. The hand at her waist moved slightly and pressed into her wounded side. Darcy hissed in pain.

“Darlin’? What’s wrong? You hurt?” Jack demanded. “You’ve got blood on your coat…”

“Some of that is mine,” Carson volunteered as Darcy remained silent, pressing her face to the warmth of Jack’s throat. She didn’t really want to think about the amount of blood and crud she was covered in. She definitely didn’t want to think about the catalog of bruises, abrasions, cuts, and burns that she had acquired.

“Spitz, we’ve located Darcy Lewis and a civilian. Both need medical attention. Where to?” An unfamiliar voice asked. Jack tried to shift and move back, maybe so that he could see her injuries, but Darcy kept her death grip on him and whimpered slightly. He stopped.

“Darcy, it’s okay. I’m okay. I didn’t even get a little bit crushed. Your buddy Spiderman showed up and yanked me out of the way just in time! I think we owe the guy a handle of whisky and some of best damned cookies ever made. I’ll help. Or maybe I’ll stand there enjoyin’ the show while you make ‘em.”

Darcy chuckled weekly.

“What does he like anyway? I feel like it’s gotta be something unusual like snickerdoodles.”

“Churros,” she muttered.

“Beg pardon?”

“Spidey likes churros.”

“Fuck. Homemade churros? How do you even do that?” She sighed and shook her head. She had made them once before when the poor guy had gotten an arm broken helping out on something Avenger related. It was more complicated than cookies certainly, but she would make Spidey a whole bouquet of different flavored churros this time. He had saved Jack.

“Sweetheart?” He patted her back gently. “Tell me, how do you make churros?”

“Is now really the time for that?” Someone asked.

“Ah hush! They’re being cute!”

“Or maybe that’s their version of dirty talk?”

“I hope not,” someone snorted. “Otherwise, I’d have to admit to flirting with Jack’s girlfriend over cinnamon buns!”

“Takeda,” Darcy grumbled as she recognized the voice. “Matcha does not belong in cinnamon buns!”

“Can we move this somewhere more secure? Miss Lewis, can you walk or do you need to be carried,” some else asked. As appealing as being carried sounded, Jack would no doubt insist on doing it himself, thereby occupy his hands and preventing him from fighting effectively. Not on her watch! Darcy slowly peeled herself off of Jack.

“I can walk,” she affirmed. One of the other men of Team Foxtrot had handed off some of their weaponry and knelt to give Carson a piggy back ride. The team formed a guard around her and Carson.

“Okay. They’ve got an emergency med station set up a few blocks to the southeast. We’ll head there,” Aliev announced.

“Darce,” Jack murmured as they began walking. “You never said how bad you were hurt.” Darcy winced. She should have known that the spy would easily pick up on the slight limp from her sprained ankle and the stiff way she held herself so that her cauterized cut from the Sheve’ir spear didn’t pull too badly.

“None of it is too bad, I don’t think,” she told him quietly. Jack kept one hand on his gun and one on the small of her back as though he were escorting her at a fancy garden party, rather than walking through a warzone. “It’s small stuff that hurts like a bitch, but I’m not about to drop and bleed out. What about you?”

“Mm. About the same. Those fuckin’ spears are a pain in the ass.”

“Yes. I’m sure the weapons experts back at SHIELD are salivating.”

“Caruthers already got them a souvenir.”

“Hey! I heard that! This isn’t for the lab squints, this is going in my personal collection!” Darcy chortled at his whispered outrage. As they got further from the plaza there were fewer Sheve’ir and much less destruction. Mostly the team was able to hear or see them coming and pick them off before they got too close.

Once, a transport ship whirred overhead and they were forced to hide under the scant awing of an Italian restaurant. Darcy leaned into Jack’s side as they watched it go by. Oddly, it was heading back towards the portal rather than further out into the city. McClelland gave it a nasty grin.

“I wonder if they realize the portal was shut down so they can’t retreat yet.”

“Did they have any other portals or just the one?” Darcy asked as they resumed their march.

“One,” Takeda told her.

“And we closed it?”

“Yep.”

“That’s good. But these guys have portalled in before, so what’s to stop them from reopening it?”

“No idea, but they haven’t done it so far!” The mood of the group seemed to lift.

They reached the medical triage area without further incident. An ambulance was parked beside a white shade tent with a red cross on it. Medical personnel scurried around sticking colored tags on the wounded, sometimes stopping to give treatment, or loading them into a waiting rotation of ambulances to be taken directly to the hospital. Carson was deposited on a stretcher to wait for an ambulance as an EMT sliced through his makeshift leg wrappings and began disinfecting and rebandaging. Darcy made sure he was in good hands before she collapsed onto a folding chair someone had donated.

The second she sat Jack flagged down a first responder and demanded treatment for her. The cranky young woman was not impressed with his demanding attitude, gave Darcy a quick examination, a green triage card, and a serving of heavy-duty aspirin. Jack looked annoyed but Darcy just grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“They’re busy,” she whispered. “And I’m okay for now. Let them do their jobs.” Jack huffed out an irritated breath before depositing himself on an overturned planter beside her chair.

“Fine.” He pressed her hand to his lips. Darcy was amused to see the other members of Jack’s team looking slightly shocked. She raised an eyebrow at them, daring them to say anything. None of them were dumb enough to, and they scattered to make themselves useful in guarding the perimeter. The brim of Jack’s hat hid his face and he held her hand cupped in both of his.

She was so fucking tough. So fucking strong in a situation that would have sent anyone running and screaming for mommy. God. She had stayed behind to help people evacuate. She had stayed because people were panicking and hurt and she wasn’t. Crazy. She had stayed because she didn’t want to leave Steve behind to face the invaders alone even though she couldn’t fight and he was Captain Fucking America. Stupid.

Darcy had only given them bits and pieces as they walked, but it was enough to know that she had been through the wringer. Then the kid she had saved, Carson, told them that he and Darcy had seen the building come down and thought Jack was underneath it. Team Foxtrot had been pursuing an alien when the being turned down an alley only to be met with Darcy Lewis’ taser. After all that she had been through that day she was still upright, protecting the boy, and moving. Jack was in absolute awe. He could tell that the rest of the team was also impressed as hell. Alien invaders and falling buildings couldn’t bring down Darcy.

He hadn’t been able to stop touching her since meeting up. He needed that reassurance and she seemed to feel the same. He couldn’t stop stealing glances at her either. Distracted didn’t even begin to cover his mental state. His team (bless ‘em) had recognized it and put him in the center of the formation with Darcy and Carson. He wouldn’t be useless if they were attacked, but his attention was focused too much on Darcy to preserve much situational awareness.

They weren’t really safe now in the medical area, not with aliens still on the loose all over New York, but his brain had apparently decided that saving the city came second to staying beside Darcy. The first responders were busy dealing with severe injuries so Darcy had to wait. He hated that. She said she wasn’t badly hurt, but Jack could tell she was tired and in pain. He wanted to hold her while they waited but didn’t want to cause her any more pain by grabbing at her as he had earlier.

Darcy squeezed his hand to tell him to stay put and not harass the medical personnel. She was comforting him. She was the one who had been through hell and she was comforting him. Darcy Fucking Lewis. He loved her. He pressed her hand to his lips. He loved her and he never wanted to let go of her. Fuck the stupid arrangement they had made and the rules he had set for himself. He’d never be able to let her go and walk away to be with someone else, even if that someone was leagues better than Jack. After today everyone at SHIELD who didn’t already know they were involved would hear about Jack nearly getting himself killed to get to her and it wouldn’t be hard to guess the reason why. Spies were a bunch of professional gossips.

This wasn’t the time or place for it, but he had nearly lost her today. Maybe she didn’t feel the same, but he knew she cared about him, and he knew that he needed to say this before the words ripped a hole through his chest.

“I love you,” Jack whispered as he brushed his thumb along a scrape on the back of Darcy’s hand. She went very still. “I’m in love with you,” he clarified. Darcy loved and was loved in return by many friends and chosen family, but these feelings of his were not of the platonic sort. Some of the choking congestion on his heart eased. He had said the words, put his feelings out there, exposed his soft underbelly. She would do what she would with them as was her right, but he had needed to say it to her.

“I love you. I’m in love with you.” His voice was so soft it could barely be heard over the sirens and commotion. Darcy’s world exploded as a supernova went off in her chest.

She rolled off the chair and fell a few inches into Jack’s lap. He scarcely had time to grunt before her lips met his. She pulled him to her in a rough but desperately sweet kiss. He gasped and clutched at her hips to keep them both from toppling over.

“Mm! I can’t-“ kiss “believe-“ kiss “you said it,-“ kiss “before I did!” Her ridiculously wonderful cowboy who would fight his way through an invading horde like a fucking badass then stand there cuddling her in front of his teammates and ask her about making churros to get her mind off of it. Her Jack.

Her mind went blissfully blank for a few minutes as she pressed her mouth to his over and over again, mapping every inch of his lips in a thorough cartography of affection. She felt him try to speak once or twice but she just kissed him deeper. She didn’t stop until she was dizzy from lack of air and her lips felt bruised. Even then she didn’t stop kissing Jack, just shifted so that she could slide her lips over his jaw, cheek, moustache, nose, eyebrow, forehead, temple- she was running out of face to kiss when Jack’s brain finally rebooted.

“What?” he gasped.

“Keep up, Cowboy, I fell for you ages ago!”

“Uh.. wha-“ Darcy cut him off with another quick peck on the lips. His eyes were so wide that he looked like a cartoon character. Gods, he was cute when he was being dumb.

“I’ve liked you for months, been flirting with you for ages, and sleeping with you for the past several weeks. What did you think was going on?”

“Err, but, we were- we had- the arrangement-“

“Was the only way your damaged commitment-phobic ass was going to go out with me! I agreed because I wanted you too much to let you walk away over stupid labels like ‘dating’!” Jack’s face flushed red.

“Oh.” Darcy contained an eyeroll. He was finally getting the picture. “I thought it was the only way you’d have me,” he whispered softly. Darcy sighed and petted his cheek.

“No, Jack. I wanted the whole enchilada from the start: kisses, sex, dates, game night with friends, lazy mornings in bed, taking care of each other post-mission, everything.” His hands rubbed up and down her back, catching at the rips in her clothes, and tangling in her hair. She looped her arms around his neck and pulled them together so that their noses bumped. “I love you, every grumpy paranoid sweet polite passionate badass bit of you.” Jack choked and his deep brown eyes looked suspiciously wet.

“You shouldn’t, Darlin’, you should be with someone else, someone who isn’t so fucked up.” Darcy smiled.

“Jack, what part of this,” she flapped at hand out towards New York City under alien attack, “makes you think I’m not a little fucked up too?” He made a noncommittal grunt. “I’ll admit, I’m not running around considering myself a zombie for coming back from the dead-“ he made an exasperated huff and pursed his lips. “But most people consider me crazy as fuck, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. All I know is that I want to be with you, insane spy baggage and all.” Jack sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Never stood a chance, did I? Darcy Fucking Lewis.”

“Mhm. We can unpack all the annoying shit later. Are you in this with me?” His mouth quirked up in that grin she loved so much and his eyes gleamed.

“Fuck yes. I love you.”

“Then you should kiss me in honor of surviving our first alien invasion together,” she chirped. He gave her a teasing peck on the cheek. Darcy gave him a mock angry frown. This time it was a full kiss, long and satisfying.

“You two should start charging!”

Darcy’s head whipped up as she gasped, “Tony!” His armor looked clean and uncracked, an easy fight then. Some days when he came back from fights his suit looked like a five-year old’s attempt at grilling burgers. This was a good day.

She slid off of Jack’s lap and stood shakily. She had stiffened up while they sat. Jack put a supportive hand to her elbow as she wobbled forward to give Tony a hug. He couldn’t feel it through the armor, but it was the thought that counted. He grinned and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“So good to see such fine upstanding citizens are considering a career in the porn industry!”

“Stop it! We were not that bad!” Ordinarily Darcy would have smacked his shoulder for a comment like that, but given her own aching body and his metal suit she settled for flicking the side of his head.

“Tony.” Jack still wasn’t very comfortable with the wider Avengers/Darcy’s friends group, but she had seen appreciable signs of thawing.

“Hey Jack. Looking a little rough there.”

“Not all of us fly around in tin can suits,” he shot back.

“Fight later! Tony, how is everyone else?”

“Brucie’s still smashing. Clint is having fun at target practice. These guys don’t seem to like ranged weapons unless they’re on ships, so he’s sniping the day away! Nat’s collected a few burns, all superficial. I’m great, thanks for asking. Thor’s been worried sick about you while blasting the transport ships. We’ve been trying to call, young lady!” Darcy snorted as Tony’s voice edged from boasting to berating. She took her half-melted phone out of her pocket and handed it to him.

“Not much I could do about it.” Tony looked at the melted phone and his energy dimmed.

“You okay, Taser Girl?” Darcy sighed and leaned her head against Jack’s shoulder. He obligingly put an arm around her.

“I’ve been better, Tones. I got a little banged up. Those spears really frickin’ hurt,” she whined. Beside her, Jack stiffened.

“Hang on, you were stabbed?! Why didn’t-“

“Hold your horses!” Darcy cut off his impending panic. Tony snickered at her cowboy joke. “I was not stabbed! There was an attempted stabbing, which I dodged! But I still got a little sliced and my phone got the worst of it.”

“Show me.”

“No! Not right now, it’s fine, I’ve got a bandage on it. Tony hasn’t said how Steve is!” Jack desisted in his gentle attempts to wrestle her coat off. Tony sighed.

“Yeah, not gonna lie, Darce, he took a good beating. But you know Stevie Rogers! He’ll probably try to run five miles tomorrow morning!” Darcy gave him a measuring glare. Tony held up his hand in surrender. “I swear! When I took off to find you he was still on his feet, yelling orders to the SHIELD agents about setting up ambushes for alien stragglers. He’s bloodied but okay.” Dary let out a long slow breath.

“Good. I’m probably going to have to sit on him again to make him get any rest.”

“Probably,” Tony agreed.

“Great, glad the super soldier with the super healing factor is fine. Now will you please show me where you got sliced with a burning laser spear?” Jack demanded.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” she told him coyly. Jack quirked an eyebrow. “I know you didn’t make it through that much combat without some.”

“Oh god, are you two going to be that couple?” Tony demanded as he mimed gagging.

“I’ve no idea what you mean,” Darcy giggled.

“Annoying power couple that runs around showing off how awesome they are together.”

Jack answered, “Hell yeah.” Naturally, Darcy needed to kiss him senseless again.